This morning, I’m worried I might lose my business and my flat. This afternoon? I’m worried I might be losing my mind...
I’ve been struggling to keep my little bookshop afloat for years, and closure seems inevitable—until a mysterious letter arrives on my doorstep. Apparently, I’ve inherited a crumbling hotel from a grandmother I never even knew, complete with long-term residents who redefine “quirky.” Especially Silas—the brooding, infuriatingly hot recluse who always wears black and never opens the curtains.
In a moment of frustration, I slip on my grandmother’s old mood ring. Pro tip? Maybe don’t try on emotionally reactive magical jewellery while having a meltdown—unless you want your kitchen to catch fire.
That’s when things get properly weird.
Turns out, the hotel is a magical portal. Not just to one world… but many. And someone—or something—is willing to do anything to take it.
Now I’m fighting for my new home, my found family, and a future I never asked for… armed with zero training and a flair for chaos.
A Hidden Witch’s Spell For Making a Tiny Giant Mighty is book one in a series that’s custom-made for lovers of strong heroines, quirky magical characters and found family all woven together with heart, humour and action-packed adventure. And that’s to say nothing of the slow-burn romance that will span the series…
About the Author :
C.N. Rowan (“Call me C.N., Mr. Rowan was my father”) is the Award-winning author of the imPerfect Cathar series. It’s been a strange, unbelievable journey to arrive at the point where these books are going to be released into the wild, like rare, near-extinct animals being returned to their natural habitat, already wondering where they’re going to nick cigarettes from on the plains of Africa, the way they used to from the zookeeper’s overalls. Rowan came originally from Leicester, England. Somehow escaping its terrible, terrible clutches (only joking, he’s a proud Midlander really), he has wound up living in the South-West of France for his sins. Only, not for his sins. Otherwise, he’d have ended up living somewhere really dreadful. Like Leicester. (Again – joking, he really does love Leicester. He knows Leicester can take a joke. Unlike some of those other cities. Looking at you, Slough.)
With multiple weird strings to his bow, all of which are made of tooth-floss and liable to snap if you tried to use them to do anything as adventurous as shooting an arrow, he’s done all sorts of odd things, from running a hiphop record label (including featuring himself as rapper) to hustling disability living aids on the mean streets of Syston. He’s particularly proud of the work he’s done managing and recording several French hiphop acts, and is currently awaiting confirmation of wild rumours he might get a Gold Disc for a song he recorded and mixed.
