Witches Just Wanna Have Puns Read online

  Witches Just Want To Have Puns

  VIRGINIA NELSON

  Contents

  Dedication

  Roll for Magic

  Witches Just Want to have Puns

  Foreword

  Prologue

  1. Chapter 1

  2. Chapter 2

  3. Chapter 3

  4. Chapter 4

  5. Chapter 5

  6. Chapter 6

  7. Chapter 7

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  The Witch with an Itch

  Prologue

  8. Chapter 1

  Copyright © 2022 by Virginia Nelson

  * * *

  All rights reserved.

  * * *

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is coincidental.

  * * *

  This book contains content that may not be suitable for young readers 17 and under.

  * * *

  The Author of this Book has been granted permission by Robyn Peterman to use the copyrighted characters and/or worlds created by Robyn Peterman in this book. All copyright protection to the original characters and/or worlds of the Magic and Mayhem series is retained by Robyn Peterman.

  Created with Vellum

  Dedication

  Dedicated to my pals at Delight.

  Roll for Magic

  They signed up for snacks, dice, and a monthly game night. Instead, these witches have been transported to a magical world overrun by cephalopods.

  Witches Just Want to have Puns

  ROLL FOR MAGIC: BOOK ONE

  Making new friends as an adult is hard—even harder when you’re a witch. As the newest resident of Assjacket, West Virginia, Juliana Piepowder wanders into a local card shop and signs up to join their newest tabletop roleplaying group—Octo-pocalypse Overlords?—in hopes of meeting new people.

  Cavalier Hardy has lived in Assjacket his whole life, so he’s seen lots of strange and unusual things. Running the local card shop is his way of keeping his world sane and his adventures in game…or that was the plan before a witch cast a spell, launching their entire party into the game.

  While the group tries to find a solution, sparks fly between Cav and Juliana, so when he’s captured by the Octopus King, she’s willing to do just about anything to save him—

  Even compete in a pun-off.

  Foreword

  Blast Off with us into the Magic and Mayhem Universe!

  * * *

  I’m Robyn Peterman, the creator of the Magic and Mayhem Series and I’d like to invite you to my Magic and Mayhem Universe.

  * * *

  What is the Magic and Mayhem Universe, you may ask?

  * * *

  Well, let me explain…

  * * *

  It’s basically authorized fan fiction written by some amazing authors that I stalked and blackmailed! KIDDING! I was lucky and blessed to have some brilliant authors say yes! They have written brand new stories using my world and some of my characters. And let me tell you…the results are hilarious!

  * * *

  So here it is! Blast off with us into the hilarious Magic and Mayhem Universe. Side splitting books by fantabulous authors! Check out each and every one. You will laugh your way to a magical HEA!

  * * *

  For all the stories, go to https://magicandmayhemuniverse.com/. Grab your copy today!

  * * *

  And if you would like to read the book that started all the madness, Switching Hour is FREE!

  https://robynpeterman.com/switching-hour/

  Prologue

  Juliana

  The glossy cover of the game box featured a person in the center wearing a fishbowl hat containing an octopus. Tentacles stretched downward from the creature on the person’s head to wrap around the waxy, pale, blank face—basically, the illustrated octopus drove the person like a car. Fire rained down alongside red bolts of lightning from inky-black clouds in the background, where more people—arms outstretched in zombie poses—stumbled around with fishbowl hats containing a wide variety of other cephalopods. In large, thriller-variety font across the front of the box, Julie could read the title of the game—Octo-pocalypse Overlords—in red letters outlined in white.

  “So what is the game about, anyway?” she asked, stroking her fingers over the embossed letters.

  “After a toxic waste spill,” their dungeon master explained, “the already intelligent octopus gained sufficient sentience to not just walk upon the land, but to find a way to control humans. Now, armed with fishbowl shields, the Octo-pocalypse Overlords control the kingdom of Ballyribbon. You and your party must find a way to stop the Overlords before the entire world falls to their tentacles. Basically, it’s your usual tabletop role-playing game, insofar as you roll for your skills, initiative and more…but with octopus monsters.”

  The dungeon master had a lovely, growly voice which shivered across Julianna Piepowder’s skin like a touch, but she attributed the sensation to sheer loneliness and dismissed it.

  After all, since she’d moved to Assjacket, West Virginia, two months ago, she hadn’t talked to anyone outside of work or her mother—and it was driving her batty. A transplant from Seattle, she wasn’t used to life on the east side of the country at all, not to mention small town life. She preferred the hustle and bustle of the city, the constant whir of noise which accompanies urban living.

  Here, things buzz. Or chirp. Everything is alive, and it creeps me out, she thought, shaking her wrist when a random fly landed there.

  “So, we met last week to create our characters, but I think we should go around the table and introduce ourselves,” the dungeon master continued. “Most of you know me, but I’m Cav. By day, I work for the city, and most of you have seen me around town.”

  “Cavalier Hardy,” a person with short, dark hair said. That was about all Juli could see of them, anyway—dark hair emerged from their tightly-tied, yet way-oversized hoodie. “Cavalier Hardy, thirty-four years old, and you live at—”

  “I’m pretty sure everyone doesn’t need to know where I live, Amoeba,” Cav said with a nervous laugh. His dark eyes met Juliana’s across the table, and a sizzle of connection danced down her arms.

  There’s something about that dude, Juliana thought. Something interesting…

  “Specificity is important,” the person named Amoeba said.

  “True,” Cav agreed. “I’m Cavalier Hardy, and I’ll be leading our little campaign. Amoeba, do you want to go next?”

  “No,” replied Amoeba before tugging the strings on the hoodie hood to make an even smaller opening where their face must be.

  Juli hid a smile. When she first signed up for game night at the local card and game shop, her big fear was not knowing anyone—which was the whole point of the adventure, so she shoved aside her fears and signed up anyway.

  Despite her concerns, she also knew these people likely played together many times in the past while she was the stranger to their party. Small town, one game shop—they’d probably not just met, but had run campaigns together in the past. The introductions might be for her, and she might appreciate them, but it didn’t quell her nerves any. She thought nothing could help the nerves, actually.

  Amoeba didn’t know it, but their hesitancy
to meet someone new resonated with the part of Juli that kind of wanted to grab a pizza and hide in her apartment instead of facing a roomful of strangers.

  “What if we introduce our characters, instead?” Cav offered, giving Amoeba a smile. “I don’t have a character—”

  The strings on Amoeba’s hoodie loosened, and Juli spotted the glitter of eyes beneath the hood and hair. “You are the dungeon master,” Amoeba intoned with theatrical pauses.

  Cav blinked at her while the man-bun man sitting next to Amoeba snickered.

  “Yes, but I don’t think it is called that in Octo-pocalypse Overlords,” Cav said.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Amoeba insisted. “Dungeon masters have god powers. It’s important.”

  Cav nodded. “It is, but I still don’t have a character to introduce, so someone else will have to go first.”

  “I’m Rudy,” the guy sitting next to Cav said, leaning forward so everyone at the table could see his face. Man-bun man Rudy wore hipster glasses that might have been for aesthetic rather than vision enhancement. His red flannel shirt appeared ironed, while his hair stood in a carefully sculpted curl above his high forehead before being tugged into a way-too-flawless-to-be-actually-tousled manbun. Overall, he wasn’t the kind of guy Juliana ever met across a tabletop for a roleplaying game before.

  He continued his introduction while Juli looked him over. “My character is Drindelwald the Devoted, and I’m basically a cultist who can pray to my deity for attack and heal spells. Drindlewald is a cultist, like I said, though, so he likes to drink, do any drugs that are available to the party, and otherwise is a basic menace. Apologies in advance for my character-driven choices.”

  Juliana snickered. One of the biggest pet peeves she heard from other players of games like this were when people forgot to make choices based on their character’s preferences rather than their own. Nothing worse than a paladin who abruptly forgot his vows, after all.

  “I’m Amoeba,” Ameoba abruptly inserted before pulling the strings tight on their hoodie again. “They/them pronouns, and I’m using my actual name for my character. I like that name. Anyway, I’m a slime wizard, and my character specializes in poisons and bombs.”

  Juliana smiled at the tiny space where Amoeba hid in the hoodie. “Nice to meet you, Amoeba.”

  “I’m Juliana, and I’m new to the neighborhood. My character is Eloise the diviner elf, and she can channel the dead. When I call upon my ancestors, I can use their gifts, but they’re in charge—like Eloise is checked out completely. So, basically, I have to play a whole host of characters as one.”

  “That sounds fun,” Amoeba said.

  “That sounds complicated,” Rudy said, carefully waxed moustache twitching. “We’ll see if you can pull that off.”

  “I’m Polly,” a quiet woman with baby pink hair said. She wore a soft, fuzzy pale brown sweater over a loose sky-blue tee. Juliana was struck with the thought that if a person were a sound, Polly would be windchimes—a whisper of sweet sound carried on a delicate breeze. “I’m playing Garwald the Grave, a Resistance Octo-officer. Basically, Garwald is a tank bard in uniform, who carries both a survival and medical pack issued by the military. Garwald, I’ll also mention, is nine feet tall and built like a wall.”

  Polly smiled, as if the idea of playing something so physically imposing thrilled her. Juli grinned at the woman, appreciating the sentiment.

  “I’m Garett,” a younger guy with bright white hair said from the opposite end of the table as the dungeon master. If Juliana had to guess, he was still in high school—or just out of it, because a tattoo of a fern ran up his neck. “I’m playing Ninjalord Grimreap, a rep from the thieves’ guild. My character is literally an animated garden gnome, so I’m small and very heavy. When I walk, it sounds like cement clanking against rock. Despite my size, I bring raw damage to the party.”

  “Epic,” said Amoeba.

  “Okay, with that out of the way, the reason you all introduced yourselves is that this is the first time you’ve met,” Cav said, before clicking his long, dark fingertip once on his mouse. Music began to play from the laptop behind his dungeon master screen.

  Ominous slow music began to vibrate through the space, setting the mood. He leaned forward before lighting a candle. Juliana reached forward to turn the amber glass so she could read the ivory sticker on the front—Castle Eldrich, the sticker read, before describing the scent as a blend of tonka with notes of rum, musk, and oud. The scent it gave off transported her to a seedy bar in some dangerous part of a fantasy city.

  Juliana rolled her D20 around in her hand as she and the others leaned in to listen as Cav set the scene. “You each received a mysterious communication advising you to be at this bar at this time if you want to save the world from the Overlords. You’d heard a group worked to overthrow the cephalopod armies, and you’ve trained for this moment, this chance to help. You all have your reasons for wanting to end the octo-pacalypse, and perhaps you’ll share them eventually, but for now, the only thing you know is that you’re here to meet with a mysterious party…”

  Although a few shoppers still wandered the shop and the cashier still sat behind the counter, their corner of the game shop held a cozy intimacy as if their party were in their own private space. Juliana was becoming transported to a fantasy world, lost in the flow of Cav’s storytelling and already thinking of what her character would do when...

  Abrupt noise interrupted their game. The back door of the shop jangled open with a resonant clang of bells against glass.

  “Where is he?” a woman demanded. Although she appeared to be in her twenties at most, she gave off much older energy, and not in a great way. Her shrill demand was followed by one ballet slipper stomping the floor with a whisper of can I speak to your manager? emphasis.

  Garrett abruptly slumped in his seat, telling Juliana without a doubt that he was the he the woman wanted to find.

  “There you are,” the woman sputtered, pulling down her wide sunglasses to glare in his direction. “I thought we talked about this?”

  Garrett slumped further in his seat. “You’re not my mom,” he muttered.

  “She’s not,” Rudy added after a tap to Juliana’s arm to get her attention. “Since you’re new, figured you might want to know that’s his sister. After their parents passed away, she became his guardian.”

  “Which only lasts until you’re eighteen,” Garrett pointed out, rolling his gaze up to meet his sister’s. “And I’m twenty.”

  “If you spent nearly as much time on your studies, you’d have twelve degrees by now,” Garrett’s sister continued, ignoring his valid point. “Instead, how do you spend your free time? Either video games or here at this game shop pretending to be a wizard.”

  “He’s a thief,” Amoeba pointed out. “Not a wizard.”

  “Do you think I care what fairytale character he’s pretending to be when he needs to focus on his future?” the sister demanded of Amoeba.

  Silence echoed across the table.

  “Take. It. Back,” Amoeba said, their voice utterly cold and resonating.

  Static crackled across the table, and Juliana jerked back, shocked. “What the—?”

  “Take what back?” Garrett’s sister demanded, eyes closed and a single hand held to her forehead dramatically. “That I think he’s wasting his time pretending at a game shop when he should be focused on reality?”

  Garrett reached for her as another crackle of purple static traveled down the table and pulsed. “You shouldn’t have said that,” he said.

  Before anyone could say or do anything else—or even roll for initiative—they were all sucked into a purpley-black hole that abruptly appeared in the middle of the table.

  Chapter 1

  Juliana

  Juliana Piepowder knew how to be a witch. After all, she had years of experience to draw upon, so she knew which spells were the most useful, when to call her familiar to her side, and otherwise tackled life with witchcraft being more useful
in her day-to-day life than her right hand.

  Upon opening her eyes, she found everything she knew about life, the world, and even herself had been magically erased, leaving her in what amounted to a stranger’s body.

  “What the hell?” she muttered, looking at her long and elegant fingers. A lot of adjectives could be applied to her hands normally, but elongated and graceful weren’t among the ones she would’ve chosen. She blinked twice before determining she also wasn’t the right color.

  What is wrong with my skin?! She’d always been pretty pale, buying one shade above the lightest tone in foundation, but now her skin shined with an almost eerie whitish-blue glow. Like a glass-bellied toad, the pearlescent skin proved translucent enough for her to spot even darker blue veins beneath the ghostly skin. Juli gagged—her skin was pretty gross, even if it would sound majestic in a book.

  “Shit,” someone muttered nearby, so she rolled to her side to see Cav sat staring at a bearded garden gnome. “Is that you, Garrett?” he asked the statue.

  The garden gnome tilted his head, and the red triangle of his hat tilted without falling off. “I think so?” the gnome replied. Fuzzy grey eyebrows furrowed downward on the cement face, giving the implication the gnome wasn’t sure.