Why is it that when things finally go right, the universe sends you a great big Hex You?

My not-quite-technically-legal potion business is booming. I’ve paid off (most of) my credit cards. I can finally afford to eat more than toast.

All thanks to my newest creation: a love potion that guarantees instant attraction and long-term happily-ever-afters.

So naturally, the universe smites me.

One kitchen mishap later, a batch of love potion explodes, and my next-door neighbour, (American banker, immaculate shirts, permanently unimpressed), is standing in my doorway with puppy-dog eyes declaring undying love.

Which would be less of a problem if he weren’t ridiculously hot–and if he hadn’t spent the last eighteen months glowering at me like I’d personally cursed his morning coffee.

Now he insists we can’t be apart. He’s following me around my flat like a lovesick shadow, flirting like it’s a full-time job, and “proving” his devotion with heartfelt confessions and dangerously seductive smiles.

Trouble is brewing, and not just in my cauldron. If the wrong person finds out what I’m selling, I’m finished.

So I need to brew the antidote–fast.

Before I convince myself this is all real.

Before he persuades me he truly does love me.

And before I fall head-over-heels for the man across the hall.

Merlin’s toenails. I’ve really hexed it up this time.