- The Pooch Salute! (Fashion Frenchies #2)
- Love Potion Commotion! (Fashion Frenchies #1)
Doggy fashion designer by day, Dr. Doolittle by night!
Vivian Feng has a secret: she can talk to animals. With help from her husband and two fashionable Frenchies, she fosters even the trickiest shelter dogs—while running an online canine couture business and keeping her magical gift hidden from her tech-savvy grandniece.
Some hearts need a push. Others get a magical shove.
Valentine’s Day is coming, and Alanna Lu Feng would rather be behind her smartphone than anywhere near Cupid. She wants to fall in love…but online dating is the pits! After a string of failed dates, she’s ready to give up on romance altogether.
But her great-aunt Vivian isn’t having any of it. She thinks it’s time her great-niece tried something real.
So when a cute guy shows up at the dog park, Vivian and her French bulldogs cook up a perfectly orchestrated meet-cute—one Alanna Lu never sees coming.
The scheme pays off in more ways than one: it gets her niece talking to a real, live man—hallelujah!—and his stunning Irish setter turns out to be the perfect muse for Vivian’s next dogwear collection. Not to mention, the elegant setter gives Vivian the perfect excuse to keep the man around—and in her grandniece’s romantic orbit.
But Alanna Lu’s been burned by “perfect” matches before—and Aunt Vivvy’s witchy nudges (plus two enthusiastic Frenchies) still can’t guarantee happily-ever-after.
Can this magical shove turn into lasting love, or is Alanna headed for one more dating disaster?
If you’ve ever wished for a romance with:
- A meddling-but-loving witch auntie
- Two Frenchies who are always game to help (even if chaos follows)
- A charming meet-cute with a magical nudge
- Cozy vibes, Valentine’s charm, and heartfelt second chances
Then you’ll fall for Love Potion Commotion!
Perfect for fans of The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches and Dog Friendly.
Alanna Lu Feng pulled up in the driveway and shut her Yaris off. She piled the fabric samples in her arms and shuffled up to her great-aunt’s front door.
Ding dong!
She waited. When no one came, she squished the cloth closer to her, digging in her coat pocket for her key.
She let herself in. She thought she could hear her great-uncle’s snoring from the other side of the house, so instead of calling out, she carefully picked her way down the basement stairs to the sewing dungeon.
Alanna Lu bustled into the brightly lit studio, arms piled high with rolls of fabric. She wound her way around the work tables.
“Whoops! ‘Scuze me, Leggo!” she said after accidentally toeing one of the resident French bulldogs. The brindle and white dog continued slobbering on his bone as though nothing had happened.
She bumped open the basement door with her hip and entered.
BARK! BARK!
READ MOREAn old woman wearing cat’s-eye glasses with laser-red frames sat at a work table, making adjustments to a hoodie on a canine-shaped dress form with gnarled but swift hands. Her half-dozen acrylic bangles clattered as she measured out cloth. Marty, the other Frenchie, sat on his chair next to the woman, supervising as usual. The barker was a new foster dog, a brown and white Welsh Springer Spaniel.
“Freckles, hush,” said the old woman. The spaniel stopped at once, looking at her. Alanna Lu marveled; her great-aunt had a way with dogs.
“Got the samples for you, Auntie,” she said. “Where do you want them?”
“By the computer, dear. Frank will want to put them into inventory.”
“Okay.” The girl set them down, then collapsed onto the stool across from Marty. The foster dog trotted over to her and put a tentative paw on her leg, but the girl didn’t move.
Her great-aunt looked over her glasses. “Something wrong, honey? I’ve never seen you immune to a puppy’s charms before.”
“Sorry,” the girl said, bending down to offer her fist to the foster. Freckles sniffed it, then glanced over her shoulder at the table. The Frenchie smiled, tongue lolling, and the foster dog turned back.
“Things must have been so much easier when you and Uncle Frank were dating!”
“What do you mean?”
“All the guys I date are just…so…you know…”
“Articulate?”
“Auntie!”
“What happened this time?”
COLLAPSEChapter 1
Alanna Lu Feng pulled up in the driveway and shut her Yaris off. She piled the fabric samples in her arms and shuffled up to her great-aunt’s front door.
Ding dong!
She waited. When no one came, she squished the cloth closer to her, digging in her coat pocket for her key.
She let herself in. She thought she could hear her great-uncle’s snoring from the other side of the house, so instead of calling out, she carefully picked her way down the basement stairs to the Sewing Dungeon.
Alanna Lu bustled into the brightly lit studio, arms piled high with rolls of fabric. She wound her way around the work tables.
“Whoops! ’Scuze me, Leggo!” she said after accidentally toeing one of the resident French bulldogs. The brindle and white dog continued slobbering on his bone as though nothing had happened.
She bumped open the basement door with her hip and entered.
BARK! BARK!
An old woman wearing cat’s-eye glasses with laser-red frames sat at a work table, making adjustments to a hoodie on a canine-shaped dress form with gnarled but swift hands. Her half-dozen acrylic bangles clattered as she measured out cloth. Marty, the other Frenchie, sat on his chair next to the woman, supervising as usual. The barker was a new foster dog, a brown and white Welsh Springer Spaniel.
“Freckles, hush,” said the old woman. The spaniel stopped at once, looking at her. Alanna Lu marveled; her great-aunt had a way with dogs.
“Got the samples for you, Auntie,” she said. “Where do you want them?”
“By the computer, dear. Frank will want to put them into inventory.”
“Okay.” The girl set them down, then collapsed onto the stool across from Marty. The foster dog trotted over to her and put a tentative paw on her leg, but the girl didn’t move.
Her great-aunt looked over her glasses. “Something wrong, honey? I’ve never seen you immune to a puppy’s charms before.”
“Sorry,” the girl said, bending down to offer her fist to the foster. Freckles sniffed it, then glanced over her shoulder at the table. The Frenchie smiled, tongue lolling, and the foster dog turned back.
“Things must have been so much easier when you and Uncle Frank were dating!”
“What do you mean?”
“All the guys I date are just…so…you know…”
“Articulate?”
“Auntie!”
“What happened this time?”
“Ugh…We were at one of those restaurants that has sports playing on TV? And he watched some football game going on behind me the entire date! He even started yelling at the screen while I was in the middle of saying something!”
“Not very considerate. Where did you find him?”
“AsianMatch.com.”
“Dot commm?”
The Frenchie on the stool turned to his mistress.
“More girls than ever are finding dates online. There’s nothing wrong with it!”
“Morally, no, sure, I agree. But is it effective?” The woman shrugged, making her hoop earrings click. “You tell me. Frank and I met at work. I was dropping off some dry cleaning for my boss, and Frank was there working that day. He lost the first ticket I gave him so I’d have to come back. Old dog. I told him next time if he wanted to see me, he’d better call, and I wrote my number on the receipt.”
“And your boss didn’t reimburse.”
“Whose story is this, anyway?”
“You know it’s one of my favorites!”
“I know you do. That’s why I keep telling it. And I’ll keep telling you, the secret to finding love is to be happy with who you are and what you’re doing. Do that, talk to people, and things’ll take care of themselves. Get your mind off it.”
“How can that be? You don’t—ignore your business and expect it to grow!”
“I can’t ignore it. I enjoy it too much. A watched pot never boils, my dear. Besides, is fretting for hours over a dating profile enjoyable to you?”
Alanna Lu sighed. She pulled out her phone and began scrolling. A few clicks and she held the screen out for her great-aunt.
“What do you think of this guy? Says—”
The old woman held up her hands. “No, no, no! Put that thing down and go get us lunch.”
“Where?”
“I don’t care. Just make sure to smile if the cashier’s cute.”
“Auntie!”
“Do you want my magic love juju or not?”
Smiling, the girl shook her head. “Okay, Auntie. I will.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
The girl left, shutting the door behind her. A few seconds later, her car engine started, then faded.
The white Frenchie on the stool looked up at the witch. “You gonna cook her up a love potion, or what?” he asked.