Zofia Trickenbod, a sorceress from another planet, is stuck on modern-day Earth. Things have been quiet for the past three years, until one morning she finds her long lost husband Dorian on her doorstep. And he's undead.
Meanwhile, the evil wizard Vaseelvod Blood is hypnotizing Zofia's neighbors in order to get the magical Stone of Irdisi back from her - and maybe kill Zofia in the process. After Blood abducts her children, Zofia has to deal with a nasty demon, get past a dragon, deal with a lamia, save her children, and tell her boyfriend that her husband is back.
Spell of the Black Unicorn is a fun fantasy read for the young and young-at-heart.
Steady sales
“Mistress Zofia!”
The peevish voice jolted Zofia out of the dream she was having. She sat bolt upright and gulped in air. The gray of pre-dawn on First World met her eyes. She was in her own four-poster bed. Thank goddess, just a bad dream.
“What? Who's sick?” She expected to see her sixteen-year-old daughter, Blanche, or her eleven-year-old son, Elton, or her Aunt Tillie, standing over her. But as Zofia's vision cleared, she saw no one was in the room with her. Whose voice had pulled her out of deep slumber?
Looking beyond the pencil posts of her bed, Zofia spied the highboy where a large brown fur-ball lay on top. Turquoise eyes scrutinized her. It was Argyll, one of her two guardian cats. Argyll sent Zofia a disgruntled look, but then her eyes fell shut and her head sank back down. So, it wasn't either of her cats calling to her.
“Someone's at the front door ringing the bell, and it's giving me a h-h-headache,” the detached, slightly willowy male voice moaned.
“Oh, all right, Biddle. Really!” Zofia grumbled. Throwing off the covers, she swung her long legs over the edge of the bed. She had to shake the cobwebs from her head before straightening to her full, barefooted height of five-seven.
Her gaze cut to the clock on her nightstand. A quarter past five in the morning. No wonder she couldn't get her eyes open all the way. Who would be ringing her doorbell at this hour? Damn Ugwump salesman probably. If they couldn't snag you via the phone, they came to your door. Well, she'd take care of him. One little zap to his ass would make him take off. Or better yet, maybe a good scare would keep him from coming back, and she wouldn't have to open the door at all.
“You're a Ghogal, Biddle,” she snarled. “You should've at least seen who it was before bothering me.”
