People suck. Magic sucks harder. After a two-decade marriage ends with my husband's disappearance, I'm left to wonder: did he run off with another woman? Or is he dead? And which one is worse? Before I can answer that, I turn into a chicken. A real one. The kind that fears KFC. I want nothing to do with Marshmallow's magic community, but somehow, I keep getting pulled into its drama. There are only two choices-keep hiding from the new reality of my life, or embrace the weird, the magic, and the feathers. It's taken forty-three years for me to become the person I was always meant to be. Chicken shifter, witch, or whatever the new me is, I'm going to rock it. Anyone who doesn't like it can cluck off.
