Showing posts with label Melissa Holtz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Melissa Holtz. Show all posts

Sunday, June 29, 2025

Review: A Charming Touch of Tarot by Melissa Holtz

A Charming Touch of Tarot is the second novel in the Gin & Tarot Club by Melissa Holtz! 

This series is magical mystery tour of ghostly gasps, spooky spirits, and mystical mayhem! 

Grab your copy today!




About the Book

Four friends discover that their new magical skills may not be enough to save them from a stalker hell-bent on turning their lives upside down.

Alyssa, Nina, Lanie, and Corinne’s friendship is being put to the test. With Nina’s marriage falling apart, Lanie acting distant, Alyssa’s new romance, and no one quite trusting Corinne, this may be more than their bond can take. But when Nina appears at Alyssa’s door, and confesses not just a decades-old secret, but a newfound magical power, the friends know that the only way to face this is together.

Someone has been blackmailing Nina for years, but lately the threats to reveal her secret have changed to threats on her life, and on the lives of those she loves. With Alyssa contacting ghosts for insight and Nina getting used to her telepathy skills, they dash from city to city to track down the threat. There’s someone out there that will go to any lengths to keep their control over Nina, and it will take all four friends to get out of this without ruining, or losing, their lives. But with the strength of their friendship—and a little help from the beyond—these women are out to prove they’re not to be messed with.







Excerpt

 

1

The Moon

I watch from the doorframe of my great room, savoring the moment. My favorite people are all here, under one roof, celebrating Christmas Eve together, and it's a sight that warms my heart.

Lanie, Nina, and Ava are huddled together in their matching red-and-white plaid reindeer jammies, alternating between shoving holiday goodies into their mouths and sipping from piping-hot mugs of Baileys hot chocolate, minus the Baileys for Ava.

The largest charcuterie board I've ever made sits on the coffee table, overflowing with an assortment of cheeses, crackers, popcorn, and various cookies and candies I purchased from a bakery in downtown Knox Harbor.

I've been running back and forth from the kitchen playing the part of hostess, a role I've always enjoyed but haven't been up to for some time.

In the past few years, the merriness of the season was tempered by sorrow and self-pity. Tonight, it's been all laughter and no tears.

The way Christmas Eve should be.

Those who matter most are in this room, singing along to the song playing on the television. Lanie belts out "Deck the Halls," punching at the air; Nina pulls in her upper lip, grimacing into the side of Lanie's head; and Ava sings the song without a care in the world, just happy to have her two aunts here with us.

We're bonded by more than blood and DNA. These are sacred friendships that we've chosen. They weren't thrust upon us out of duty and an age-old tale that blood somehow trumps all. While my parents are hundreds of miles away, likely playing cards with friends, my made family is here, choosing me, and that's not something I take lightly.

Since the accident that took Garrett from me, Lanie has made Christmas Eve our thing. It was her attempt to pull me out of my despair long enough to ensure that Ava had the Christmas she deserved. This time, we have the bonus of Nina being here.

Before this year, she has always been required to attend Knox Harbor's Christmas Eve ball, a charity event that her slimy ex had nothing to do with organizing but took all the credit for. Due to the shocking events that unfolded earlier this year, the event was cancelled.

I take a second to relish how this year, Richard Dunbar is celebrating Christmas in prison, while Nina gets to curl up on my oversize couch, comfortable and cozy. Not only did Richard cover up his son's drunk driving homicide, but he was also behind two murders and the car accident that took Garrett from me and Ava.

Pure evil.

He's eating crappy food while Nina gorges on treats that she typically didn't allow herself, because he would throw a fit over any weight gain. He's sitting in a cell, staring at concrete walls, and she gets to binge-watch every sappy Hallmark movie she can fit into one night. Movies he never allowed her to watch in her own home.

Oh, how sweet karma can be.

"Are you done stalking?" Lanie calls over her shoulder, not bothering to take her eyes off the television.

"I wasn't stalking anything. If you haven't noticed, the platters of food don't magically fill themselves."

Ava turns toward me, smiling like a loon. "You should really get on that. A magic house that cooks and cleans sounds like a game changer."

I smirk. "I'll make sure to add that to my Santa list next year."

Ava half rolls her eyes, grinning wide and twisting back toward the television.

"I just figured you were keeping an eye on the house next door for any signs of movement," Lanie says, shoving popcorn into her mouth.

"We just started dating. I'm hardly inspecting his house for proof of life. It's not like I haven't talked to him."

Lanie peaks one perfectly microbladed eyebrow. "Have you? Talked to him? Because I've seen you check your phone no less than ten times in the last hour . . ."

"Why do you always make me sound so pathetic? I've been having too much fun with all of you. I haven't thought about him once."

A slight lie, but Lanie Anderson doesn't need to be proven right.

"How about you come sit and finish the movie with us," Ava suggests, patting the couch cushion. "Ignore Aunt Lanie. If you were thinking about Mr. West, that's perfectly normal."

"I agree with Ava. Ignore Aunt Lanie." Nina purses her lips when she turns toward Lanie, who isn't at all bothered. "Come join us. We have plenty of food. Enjoy your time with Aves."

I should absolutely be soaking in every moment I have with her. The two-week break she gets is never long enough. Soon she'll be returning to school, and I'll be in this empty house all alone.

I make my way to the couch, taking the seat next to Ava. She smiles at me, squeezing my hand as she scooches in closer, offering to share her blanket.

"What have I missed?" I ask, eyes trained on the big screen.

"She just got whisked back in time by that sand thingy."

I lift an eyebrow at Ava's explanation.

"I think you mean hourglass," Nina says.

"Whatever it is. She's about to see the hot actor," Lanie says, grabbing a handful of Cheez-It crackers. "It's about to get swoony."

"Are you hungry, Lanie?" I ask, completely mystified by the sheer amount of junk she's consumed in the past ten minutes. While she has never shied away from food, she typically grabs healthier options. I feel bad that I didn't opt to serve a meal.

She purses her lips. "Is that a fat quip?"

"I'm offering to make you actual food if you're hungry." I motion to the large platter. "I really didn't think this through."

She wipes her hand on her pajamas. "I'm simply using the holiday as an excuse to indulge. Nothing wrong with that."

"I didn't say there was. I was only attempting to be a proper host."

"You failed," she singsongs.

"Can you two just get along so we can watch the meet-cute?" Nina reprimands, a hint of humor in her tone.

Ava squeals, clapping her hands and shimmying in her seat, clearly ready for what's to come. "Meet-cutes are the best part."

My head shakes and my chest bounces, barely containing the laughter that bubbles within at Ava's reaction. My little girl is sixteen. She's a young adult, interested in love and romance, something that wasn't the case a year ago.

"Here, this is yours," Nina says, passing over a mug. "It might be a tad cold by now, but it's good."

"Thank you." I take a sip and sigh.

The temperature is perfect. Not too hot and not too cold. The hint of Baileys just enough to make the cocoa even better.

We all settle in to watch the movie, oohing and ahhing at every twist that arises. It's cute. Your typical Christmas love story, complete with magic and humor. The type of movies we all enjoy this time of year.

Over an hour goes by, and we're moments from the movie's conclusion when the doorbell rings.

Ava looks over her shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. When she turns toward me, she lifts one brow. "Who could that be?"

My eyes are narrowed as I run through the short list of possibilities.

I quickly eliminate Nick West. I've peeked at the house next door for any signs of him a few times tonight, only to find it dark. He's likely working late at the station.

That's been his excuse for the three dates he's cancelled in the past two weeks. Ever since the night Nina showed up on my doorstep, looking as though she'd been run through the mud, he's been distant.

I did send him away without an explanation, but he can't be angry with me about that. Nina's practically family, and she was distraught. I needed to be there for her and didn't think she'd be open to spilling her guts with Nick hanging around.

"Well . . . are you going to answer it or let them freeze out there?" Ava asks, cutting off all thoughts of Nick.

I jump up from the couch and rush toward the door because she's right-it's a chilly night, and nobody should be left to freeze on Christmas Eve.

Pressing my eye to the little round hole, I check to see who it is, but there's nobody out there. At least, not that I can see. A strange feeling washes over me, and I decide not to open the door. Instead, I make my way to the white-trimmed picture window, staring down the road both ways.

The soft glow of twinkling lights glistens off the freshly fallen snow all the way down my street. It's a stunning sight that distracts me from my initial reason for peering out my window into the dark night.

There's nothing and no one to be seen. Not even taillights in the distance proving that someone had been on my doorstep.

Bizarre.

I'm about to turn around when a figure pops up from the bushes, two horns protruding from a demonic face. Its hands reach out to tap an eerie cadence against the window. I screech, stumbling backward, grabbing at air. With a quick twist, I crouch low, instinctively assuming a defensive stance. Thankfully, I manage to avoid the embarrassment of falling on my ass. I swiftly right myself in time to see the creature remove its head to unmask Corinne, bent over, laughing hysterically.

"What the hell's going on?" Lanie says, rushing into the room with Nina and Ava right on her heels.

I motion toward the window, working to calm my racing heart.

"That asshole," Lanie says, throwing her head back and laughing. "I love her."

Leave it to Lanie to find this funny. I about had a coronary, but who cares about that minor detail?

Nina throws open the front door, standing to the side, giving Corinne enough room to enter. "Get in here, you menace."

I take a step forward, hands planted on my hips. "What were you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?"

She shrugs out of her coat, throwing it over the chair. "Playing Krampus. Have you been naughty?"

"It's not Krampusnacht, idiot. You're a few weeks off," Lanie says, half rolling her eyes.

"Idiot is too kind a term." I grab her coat and head toward the office, where the others have been stashed.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were tied up with Moradi Madness," Lanie says, but I miss Corinne's reply as I step away from the group.

I deposit the black bomber jacket into the pitch-black room and give myself a moment to laugh at the absurdity that just occurred. I almost went down, and if it had been Lanie, I would be rolling on the ground laughing.

That's the thing about the friendships I have with these girls. They all bring something unique to the group. Corinne's happens to be youth and the reminder that no matter our age, laughter and silliness is the best medicine.

I chuckle to myself before rejoining my friends who are all gathered in the front room, chatting away about Corinne's brother, Darian. From what I've pieced together, he was ordered to bring her here to ensure something goes down.

"What exactly is going down?" I ask, glancing around the room for someone to explain.

"Not you," Lanie says, chuckling at herself.

My nose scrunches, and I glare daggers at Lanie, looking out of the corner of my eye at Ava, who clearly got the joke, if her giggling is any indicator.

Nina sighs heavily. "Do you always have to be so crass, Lane?"

Lanie doesn't answer, and Ava has inquired about the lore surrounding Krampus. Corinne is far too eager to give all the horrific details. I zone out, knowing the story behind the Christmas devil.

My head turns toward the window, and I watch as large flakes continue to fall from the sky, blanketing the ground. It's a winter wonderland out there, the perfect scenery for the holiday.

Movement to the left has my eyes narrowing as I lean forward.

"What the . . ." My words trail off as I stand to get closer to the glass. "Is that Mrs. Fields?"

Standing on the sidewalk, out in the dark, cold, winter night, a barely dressed Mrs. Fields appears to be talking to thin air. She's in her pale pink nightgown, hair secured under a white shower cap, finger lifted as if she's in the middle of a lecture.

The others get to their feet, joining me at the window.

"Is that a nightgown?" Nina asks, and I nod.

"She's not wearing shoes?" Ava says, nose practically pressed against the window.

"Looks like she's wearing slippers," Nina replies to Ava.

The frail woman has her fist raised into the air, moving it around like she's moments away from crashing it against someone's head. Something isn't right with her.

"She's going to freeze out there," I say, heading toward the door.

With my hand on the knob, I look down, recognizing that I'm not exactly dressed appropriately either.

"Let me grab our coats," Lanie says, rushing off before I can agree or protest.

"Nina, throw me that blanket." I motion to the unused fleece throw hanging off the back of the couch.

Within a minute, Lanie is back and practically hurling my coat at me as she slings hers on. She makes her way out into the freezing night with me close behind.

"Mrs. Fields, what on earth are you doing out here? You're gonna freeze," I say, jogging across the street, hitting a piece of ice that nearly takes me out. A patch of snow saves me from my second almost-fall of the night. I'm holding the blanket up to put it around her shoulders, but she stares right through me. It's like this for several moments until her eyelashes flutter and her mouth drops open. She pops a closed fist on her hip and begins a tirade.

"Well, I came out here to see what she was doing out in the cold." She shakes her head, tsking. "Dressed like that. I've never," she grumbles. "Last time I saw a woman dressed that scandalously . . . well . . . it was you," she says, pursing her lips and looking up at Lanie. "Ladies don't dress like that."

"It was Halloween, Mrs. Fields. I was a nurse."

Mrs. Fields makes a noise that sounds an awful lot like clearing phlegm from her throat.

"What woman?" I ask, looking around the area only to find it absent of anyone aside from Mrs. Fields and us.

"That one," she says, gesturing behind me.

We all turn to find nothing but cold air and darkness.

Excerpted from A Charming Touch of Tarot by Melissa Holtz. Copyright © 2025 by Melissa Holtz. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.


My Review


What to expect when reading A Charming Touch of Tarot:

👻 Emotional story

👻 Full of surprises

👻 Mystery solving Scooby Doo-style gang 

👻 Ghost whisperer

👻 Silver fox detective

👻 Family secrets 

👻 Exorcism hijinks

👻 Diabolical enemies

👻 Game changing plot twist

What a wild ride. If my heart wasn’t clenching as Nick’s ex-fiancée’s ghost tries to matchmake Alyssa and Nick, it was in my throat as Nina and Lanie’s hidden secrets explode and have monumental consequences for the group. I was completely enthralled in the storyline and gasped with every revelation. 

The jaw-dropping finale has me chomping at the bit for the next book. 

FTC Disclaimer: I voluntarily read a copy of the book generously provided by the publisher via Net Galley in exchange for an honest review. This in no way influences my thoughts or feelings about the book or the content of my review.


Purchase Links

Penguin Random House


About the Author


Melissa Holtz is a former publicist and marketing expert in the romance genre. Now in an advisory role to several bestselling authors, she consults on industry marketing trends. An Enchanting Case of Spirits is her debut novel. Melissa also writes Romantasy under the pen name, Melissa Winters. You can learn more about both Melissas by visiting her website: melissaholtz.com/homepage



Thursday, May 30, 2024

Review: An Enchanting Case of Spirits by Melissa Holtz

An Enchanting Case of Sprits is the debut novel of Melissa Holtz! 

I was completely enthralled by this magical mystery tour of ghostly gasps, spooky spirits, and mystical mayhem! 

Don't sleep on this one! Grab your copy today!



About the Book

When a fortieth birthday celebration leads to a ghostly visitor, four friends find themselves navigating surprising mysteries and spiritual hijinks, in this clever debut from Melissa Holtz.

Alyssa Mann isn’t adventurous, not since her husband died and she found herself the single mom of a teenage daughter. But there’s no way to avoid celebrating the big 4-0, so when her best friends drag her out for drinks and a tarot reading, she throws caution to the wind and decides to see what the spirits have to say. It’s all fun and games, until she wakes up the next morning with a wicked hangover—and a ghost perched on the edge of her bed.

Sheer panic sends her running to get help from Nick West, the (very attractive) detective who lives next door. When he finds no one inside, Alyssa has to accept that she really did see a ghost. As the dearly departed keep appearing, Alyssa and her friends do their best to learn how to control her newfound power. Trading insults with ghosts, tracking down family heirlooms, and getting closer to the skeptical but helpful Nick is more fun than Alyssa imagined. But when looking into one ghost’s past reveals unexpected—and unwelcome—facts about Alyssa’s late husband’s death, she discovers she just may be in over her head.






Excerpt

 

1

Five of Cups

Another spoonful will dull the painful truth.My youth is gone.

A carton of ice cream is gripped between my legs like my life depends on it not slipping from my clutches. A cool autumn breeze flits through the open window next to my whitewashed sleigh bed, and I shiver as it races up my exposed arms.

I consider closing said window but refrain, too comfy to move from under the heavy down comforter and matching gray sheets I'm currently curled beneath.

My lips wrap around a tarnished silver spoon-a wedding present from my mother-and a chill settles over me. Whether from the draft or cold dessert, I'm not sure, and I couldn't care less either way.

Less than nine hours remain of my fortieth birthday, and I'm alone, eating my ice cream as though it's my last supper.

My eyes are fixed on the harvest-yellow walls, a color I adored once upon a time but now resent because I'm no longer the carefree wife and mother who chose that cheerful shade.

Birthdays come and go, and the next may not be promised, but it's just a day. Tomorrow, all the calls and messages will stop. I'll be one year closer to my own death, with nothing but wrinkles and cellulite to keep me company.

Dramatic much?

My phone chimes from the nightstand and I ignore it. It's been going off all day with messages commemorating a day I'd rather skip from family and friends who know this yet refuse to oblige me.

Almost immediately, the phone rings, and I know that either I answer or risk a wellness check from the police, courtesy of my well-meaning friends. There's no doubt it's Lanie or Nina on the other end of this call. Both of my best friends are dogs with a bone, and neither will stop until I shut off the phone or scream down the line that I'm alive.

Sighing, I grab the black smartphone and push accept.

"I'm breathing. You can stop calling," I drone, sounding pathetic even to my own ears.

"Well, that's a relief." Lanie's dry tone just barely hides the irritation she works so hard to conceal. "I thought you'd managed to drown yourself in Chocolate Salted Fudge Truffle or that nasty riesling you adore." I hear Lanie's deep breath before she continues. "Alyssa, you can't hide from your birthday."

"But I'm going to give it my best try," I say, eyeing the now-empty ice cream container with contempt, sending a thanks up to the gods that she didn't attempt a video chat. If Lanie Anderson saw my current condition, she'd stage a full-on intervention.

All traces of irritation and worry vanish when she says, "Ava called."

I groan, silently cursing my far-too-perceptive daughter for calling my overprotective best friend. This wouldn't be the first time. In fact, it seems to be happening far more often than reasonable.

I know Ava doesn't want me to be alone today, but I don't want her worrying when she should be focusing on studying for her exams. She's a little over an hour away at a prestigious boarding school for the arts, and if it were her choice, she'd give up her dreams and come back home.

"She shouldn't have done that. I told her I was fine."

"She doesn't think you are, Ally. You haven't left your house for more than a grocery run this week. It's your fortieth birthday and you aren't celebrating, when we all know that birthdays are a big production with you."

"I left my house," I say indignantly, blowing a wayward piece of hair out of my eyes.

"Don't be cranky. It's unbecoming of a woman in her prime." Her teasing lilt is meant to make me laugh, but I don't.

"I'm not cranky and I'm not in my prime."

"Sure you are!" she says far too cheerfully when moments ago it was all doom and gloom. "Forty is a prime number."

"It's not."

"It isn't? Hmm . . ." she murmurs, and I can see her clearly in my head, full lips pursed and one perfectly microbladed eyebrow cocked in contemplation. "Well, I guess you're right. Nothing prime about forty."

"I hate you."

"You don't," she practically purrs.

She's right. I cherish our friendship. Even more for her part in picking me up off the floor on numerous occasions over the last two years. Lanie has been a constant friend. One who hasn't allowed all of me to break into the million tiny pieces it wants to. A fate my poor heart didn't escape.

Two years ago, my soul was crushed, and it wasn't with one hard knock to my front door.

The harsh reality is that I was sitting next to my husband Garrett the day he died. My head hit the side window, and the last thing I remember is a bright light and the color red. For over a year, I relived the accident nightly. I didn't have dreams; it was always the same nightmare. One I couldn't wake up from.

Garrett died. I survived. And that truth has haunted me for a long time.

My eyes catch on Garrett's ashes, which sit in a generic, unmarked container on top of my dresser. Too cliché for a life as beautiful as ours had been.

A tear slips down my cheeks unbidden, and I swipe it away.

Not today, Satan.

My current grief is brought to you by my birth. I only have room for one trauma at a time.

"Earth to Ally," Lanie sings through the phone.

I shake my head, clearing my mind. "What did you say?"

"It's your birthday, and it's Thursday wine night. I know you said you didn't want to celebrate, but you must. Nina and I are headed out, and you're coming."

I chance a glance into the floor-length mirror resting against my wall and grimace. My wavy strawberry-blond hair is matted at the crown of my head, and I have dark circles underneath my bloodshot eyes. The entirety of my face is blotchy and swollen, a byproduct of crying.

I'm a hideous beast today.

"No, thank you."

My spoon scrapes the bottom of the empty ice cream carton, and the tears stream briskly down my cheeks.

It's been two years and I know this breakdown isn't about him. It's about a number. Forty always sounded ancient and here I am living it and feeling every ache and pain that decided to start on this very day.

How convenient.

"I . . . I'll be . . . fine," I cry. "I'm just so . . . ugly." The wail that accompanies that last part resembles that of a dying animal, and I'm sure Lanie is beyond concerned about my mental state.

"You're not, babe. You need us." The tenderness she uses is so unlike her.

She's my bossy, no-nonsense friend, who's more likely to slap the sense back into me than to allow the moping.

"As much as I don't want to be the overbearing friend on your day, this isn't a situation that I'm going to back down from. I'm coming to you."

"No, I-"

It's no use. The line is dead, and I know without a doubt that Lanie and Nina will be here at some point regardless of any protest on my part.

Forty wasn't supposed to look like this. I'd had every intention of marching out of my thirties with my head held high, ass tight and no lines to be found from the corners of my eyes to my hairline, seventeen years into a blissful marriage.

Exactly none of those things are my reality.

I have tracks deeper than an off-road path lining my forehead and a scar that runs from my temple to the corner of my right eye, a permanent reminder of all I've lost.

Lanie is right. I'm wasting away in this room.

If Garrett were here, he'd tell me to pull myself together, get dressed, and plan on a headache in the morning. But he's not here, so I'll eat my ice cream and feel sorry for myself until the birthday hijackers I call friends arrive.


At five o’clock on the dot, I hear the key turning in the lock in the door. I gave spares to both Lanie and Nina in case of emergencies. Apparently, my breakdown earlier constitutes an emergency.

Seated in a dark corner of the living room, with a clear view of the front door, I watch Lanie pop her head inside. The sun has long set, and darkness blankets the room, shielding me from her view.

"Alyssa?" she calls out, as though she cares about my privacy. "We're coming in."

Lanie flips a switch, and the overhead lights beam down around us. Lanie's brown eyes are wide, one black-and-white-Converse-covered foot still in the door as if she fears what she'll find. I'd laugh if I wasn't having too much fun watching these two tiptoe around like some ghost is about to pop out at them.

Nina's head peeks around Lanie's body, her blond hair hanging loosely over one shoulder, and our eyes lock. My lips tip up in amusement.

"Hi, love," Nina says, pushing Lanie through the door when she sees me sitting in my comfy chair.

I raise my hand and wave, not wanting to speak for fear I'll start laughing and pee myself, which has been a danger ever since giving birth. Yet another less-than-sexy problem I deal with on the regular.

"I'm glad to see you're not in your bed," she says, sitting down on the arm of my chair and pulling me into a hug.

Nina is a high school counselor and very adept at handling grief, which is a real pain in the ass for someone who's trying to avoid talking about her feelings. "How you doing?" she asks, backing up and looking me over, her gaze lingering a little too long.

If they see that I've managed to pull myself together, they'll insist on birthday shenanigans, and I'm not quite fond of that idea.

I showered, hoping to wash away the remnants of my earlier wallowing, but it was no use. My pale complexion can't hide the stubborn splotches of distress, even with a Sephora's worth of makeup plastered over my face.

"I'm struggling."

A complete exaggeration.

My head lowers, shaking back and forth, playing up the misery card. Based on how her eyes are narrowed in on mine, she knows better. I've managed to fake it till I make it before, but tonight, I'm failing.

"We know better, Ally," Lanie cuts in, walking toward her typical spot on the outdated ottoman, complete with a gaudy floral print. It's a hand-me-down from my mother, which is about the only thing that woman has ever given up to me. "You're trying to avoid a celebration for the big four-oh, and we are not here for it. You and I both know you'll regret it eventually."

Lanie gets comfortable, stretching her long, lean legs out on the couch as Nina takes a seat on the floor at my feet.

"She's right, Alyssa. This happened on your thirtieth and you still to this day whine about not throwing a party."

"We promised we'd never let you do that again. So pull up your big girl panties and embrace your midlife hotness." Lanie says, earning a stern glare from Nina.

Nina springs back up, putting her arm around my shoulder. She pulls me into her embrace again. "Don't listen to her. We all know she's about as comforting as sitting on a cactus."

The most unladylike snort rips through me.

Lanie's mouth opens and then closes like a fish out of water. "I didn't say anything bad."

Nina rolls her eyes, turning her focus back on me.

"I know you're struggling, love. We won't push you into going out if that's not what you want," Nina coos, hand running down my untamed hair soothingly.

I look up into Nina's ice-blue eyes, framed by the longest non-manufactured eyelashes I've ever seen, determined to change the subject.

"Have I gained weight?"

She nods and Lanie gasps.

"Nina Joy Dunbar, what the hell's the matter with you?" Lanie's high-pitched squeal is enough to pull a smile from me. I try to smash my lips together to contain my laughter, but it's no use. A fit of pre-teen giggles escapes me.

Nina's eyes widen as her head bounces back and forth between us. "Huh? What did I say?"

Lanie rolls her eyes this time. "Pay attention. You're not typically the space cadet."

Nina ignores her, gaze settling on me. "I'm sorry, love. I'm . . . distracted."

I want to ask her why, but she forges ahead, beating me to the punch.

"My mother called. She wants to come to town for the holidays."

Nina isn't distracted, she's distressed, and I can't blame her. Samantha Woods is equal parts obnoxious and terrifying.

"Why?" Lanie says, parroting my thoughts.

"I'm sure she needs more money." Nina sighs, picking at her fingernails. "She had a botched cosmetic surgery and is tapped out of funds to fix it."

"Oh, please. The woman is fake from her head to her toes. What more can she need?" Lanie practically spits the words. None of us are fond of Nina's mother, but Lanie in particular despises the woman.

"This time it's true. I heard it myself via an unwanted video call."

My eyes narrow. "You heard it? What, pray tell, does that mean?"

Nina's lip tips up. "She went back to get bigger implants and now her boobs squeak." She waggles her eyebrows, grinning so widely her brilliant white teeth are on full display.

"Squeak?" Lanie asks. "Like a rubber duck?"

Nina's head bobs. "Let's just say that the neighborhood dogs follow her around. And I am not exaggerating."

We all burst into laughter. Of all the people for something like that to happen to, the universe got it right this time.

Lanie wipes under her eyes. "Don't you dare help her fix that. Let her suffer in squeaking until she finds Husband Number Six to pay for it."

I take a good hard look at my friends, recognizing how lucky I truly am, despite the hardships I've endured. Having Lanie and Nina by my side today is something I've rejected, but, man, am I glad they didn't listen.

"I needed this. You two being here," I explain, and Nina offers me a wide smile. "No matter what I said, I'm glad you ignored it."

"If I'd known my stories would make you laugh like this, I would've been here sooner." Nina frowns as she rubs her chest. "I'm sorry I waited so long to barge in, Alyssa."

I wipe under my nose, grunting. "I ate a carton of ice cream and chugged half a bottle of wine. I was fine. Wonderful, even."

Excerpted from An Enchanting Case of Spirits by Melissa Holtz. Copyright © 2024 by Melissa Holtz. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.


My Review


What to expect when reading An Enchanting Case of Spirits:

👻 Nail-biting mysteries

👻 Grief and life after love 

👻 Powerful and engaging storylines

👻 Smokin’ HOT silver fox detective 

👻 Danger, suspense, whodunit 

👻 Spirits, ghosts, and poltergeists, oh MY! 

👻 The spirit realm and what (if anything) comes after death

👻 The importance of having a core group of friends

👻 Witty dialogue, laugh-out-loud funny, and irreverent humor

This story ran the gamut of my emotions and had me laughing, giving me goosebumps, and brought me to tears. I love that the characters are more around my age range. They are lovingly and beautifully created and easily relatable. The storyline is brilliant and the ending left me with more questions than answers. I need more stories with these friends and all the quirky citizens of this quaint New England town.

Read the book in one day. It was so good I couldn’t put it down! Highly recommend it!

FTC Disclaimer: I voluntarily read a copy of the book generously provided by the publisher via Net Galley in exchange for an honest review. This in no way influences my thoughts or feelings about the book or the content of my review.


Purchase Links

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Apple Books

Kobo | Google Play | Penguin Random House


About the Author


Melissa Holtz is a former publicist and marketing expert in the romance genre. Now in an advisory role to several bestselling authors, she consults on industry marketing trends. An Enchanting Case of Spirits is her debut novel. Melissa also writes Romantasy under the pen name, Melissa Winters. You can learn more about both Melissas by visiting her website: melissaholtz.com/homepage

Tuesday, April 9, 2024

Blog Tour: An Enchanting Case of Spirits by Melissa Holtz

Happy Release Day Melissa Holtz!

An Enchanting Case of Spirits is her debut novel! 

Congratulations Melissa! Wishing you all the best!

Grab your copy today! 

Purchase links are below along with an excerpt!


About the Book

When a fortieth birthday celebration leads to a ghostly visitor, four friends find themselves navigating surprising mysteries and spiritual hijinks, in this clever debut from Melissa Holtz.

Alyssa Mann isn’t adventurous, not since her husband died and she found herself the single mom of a teenage daughter. But there’s no way to avoid celebrating the big 4-0, so when her best friends drag her out for drinks and a tarot reading, she throws caution to the wind and decides to see what the spirits have to say. It’s all fun and games, until she wakes up the next morning with a wicked hangover—and a ghost perched on the edge of her bed.

Sheer panic sends her running to get help from Nick West, the (very attractive) detective who lives next door. When he finds no one inside, Alyssa has to accept that she really did see a ghost. As the dearly departed keep appearing, Alyssa and her friends do their best to learn how to control her newfound power. Trading insults with ghosts, tracking down family heirlooms, and getting closer to the skeptical but helpful Nick is more fun than Alyssa imagined. But when looking into one ghost’s past reveals unexpected—and unwelcome—facts about Alyssa’s late husband’s death, she discovers she just may be in over her head.




Excerpt

Five of Cups

Another spoonful will dull the painful truth.

My youth is gone.

A carton of ice cream is gripped between my legs like my life depends on it not slipping from my clutches. A cool autumn breeze flits through the open window next to my whitewashed sleigh bed, and I shiver as it races up my exposed arms.

I consider closing said window but refrain, too comfy to move from under the heavy down comforter and matching gray sheets I'm currently curled beneath.

My lips wrap around a tarnished silver spoon-a wedding present from my mother-and a chill settles over me. Whether from the draft or cold dessert, I'm not sure, and I couldn't care less either way.

Less than nine hours remain of my fortieth birthday, and I'm alone, eating my ice cream as though it's my last supper.

My eyes are fixed on the harvest-yellow walls, a color I adored once upon a time but now resent because I'm no longer the carefree wife and mother who chose that cheerful shade.

Birthdays come and go, and the next may not be promised, but it's just a day. Tomorrow, all the calls and messages will stop. I'll be one year closer to my own death, with nothing but wrinkles and cellulite to keep me company.

Dramatic much?

My phone chimes from the nightstand and I ignore it. It's been going off all day with messages commemorating a day I'd rather skip from family and friends who know this yet refuse to oblige me.

Almost immediately, the phone rings, and I know that either I answer or risk a wellness check from the police, courtesy of my well-meaning friends. There's no doubt it's Lanie or Nina on the other end of this call. Both of my best friends are dogs with a bone, and neither will stop until I shut off the phone or scream down the line that I'm alive.

Sighing, I grab the black smartphone and push accept.

"I'm breathing. You can stop calling," I drone, sounding pathetic even to my own ears.

"Well, that's a relief." Lanie's dry tone just barely hides the irritation she works so hard to conceal. "I thought you'd managed to drown yourself in Chocolate Salted Fudge Truffle or that nasty riesling you adore." I hear Lanie's deep breath before she continues. "Alyssa, you can't hide from your birthday."

"But I'm going to give it my best try," I say, eyeing the now-empty ice cream container with contempt, sending a thanks up to the gods that she didn't attempt a video chat. If Lanie Anderson saw my current condition, she'd stage a full-on intervention.

All traces of irritation and worry vanish when she says, "Ava called."

I groan, silently cursing my far-too-perceptive daughter for calling my overprotective best friend. This wouldn't be the first time. In fact, it seems to be happening far more often than reasonable.

I know Ava doesn't want me to be alone today, but I don't want her worrying when she should be focusing on studying for her exams. She's a little over an hour away at a prestigious boarding school for the arts, and if it were her choice, she'd give up her dreams and come back home.

"She shouldn't have done that. I told her I was fine."

"She doesn't think you are, Ally. You haven't left your house for more than a grocery run this week. It's your fortieth birthday and you aren't celebrating, when we all know that birthdays are a big production with you."

"I left my house," I say indignantly, blowing a wayward piece of hair out of my eyes.

"Don't be cranky. It's unbecoming of a woman in her prime." Her teasing lilt is meant to make me laugh, but I don't.

"I'm not cranky and I'm not in my prime."

"Sure you are!" she says far too cheerfully when moments ago it was all doom and gloom.

"Forty is a prime number."

"It's not."

"It isn't? Hmm . . ."; she murmurs, and I can see her clearly in my head, full lips pursed and one perfectly microbladed eyebrow cocked in contemplation. "Well, I guess you're right.

Nothing prime about forty."

"I hate you."

"You don't," she practically purrs.

She's right. I cherish our friendship. Even more for her part in picking me up off the floor on numerous occasions over the last two years. Lanie has been a constant friend. One who hasn't allowed all of me to break into the million tiny pieces it wants to. A fate my poor heart didn't escape.

Two years ago, my soul was crushed, and it wasn't with one hard knock to my front door.

The harsh reality is that I was sitting next to my husband Garrett the day he died. My head hit the side window, and the last thing I remember is a bright light and the color red. For over a year, I relived the accident nightly. I didn't have dreams; it was always the same nightmare. One I couldn't wake up from.

Garrett died. I survived. And that truth has haunted me for a long time.

My eyes catch on Garrett's ashes, which sit in a generic, unmarked container on top of my dresser. Too cliché for a life as beautiful as ours had been.

A tear slips down my cheeks unbidden, and I swipe it away.

Not today, Satan.

My current grief is brought to you by my birth. I only have room for one trauma at a time.

"Earth to Ally," Lanie sings through the phone.

I shake my head, clearing my mind. "What did you say?"

"It's your birthday, and it's Thursday wine night. I know you said you didn't want to celebrate, but you must. Nina and I are headed out, and you're coming."

I chance a glance into the floor-length mirror resting against my wall and grimace. My wavy strawberry-blond hair is matted at the crown of my head, and I have dark circles underneath my bloodshot eyes. The entirety of my face is blotchy and swollen, a byproduct of crying.

I'm a hideous beast today.

"No, thank you."

My spoon scrapes the bottom of the empty ice cream carton, and the tears stream briskly down my cheeks.

It's been two years and I know this breakdown isn't about him. It's about a number. Forty always sounded ancient and here I am living it and feeling every ache and pain that decided to start on this very day.

How convenient.

Excerpted from An Enchanting Case of Spirits by Melissa Holtz Copyright © 2024 by Melissa Holtz. Excerpted by permission of Berkley. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.


Purchase Links

Penguin Random House


About the Author

Janel Lee Photography
Photo by Janel Lee Photography

Melissa Holtz is a former publicist and marketing expert in the romance genre. Now in an advisory role to several bestselling authors, she consults on industry marketing trends. An Enchanting Case of Spirits is her debut novel. melissaholtz.com