Iva DunRaven got into bed. She felt drained as she settled into the cold sheets; it had been a busy day for her. The world of the paranormal was a very real thing, and only the foolish would ever ignore it, but the simple fact was it just didn't pay enough. So every occult detective had a little side number. Professor Brimstone was a toilet attendant in an exclusive night club in Soho. While Mr Twilight and Mr Dusk ran a shoe repairs in Belgravia called Buckle My Shoe. There were of course horror stories of some Occult detectives turning to crime to make ends meet. Dr Candlelight robbed banks before he was gunned down in Forest end Street. His body was never found as he jumped into the Thames screaming he would one day return. The great Count Alex Poe who was once the royal Occult detective was forced to use cheating charms in high street bookies. His hexes can still be seen in Buckingham palace to this day. Iva's little side number was selling bric-a-brac magic charms from a mall kiosk in Hay���s Galleria in South London. She had called her little business empire Charm Today, Luck Tomorrow. The charms of course didn't work, they were just for the tourists. But some, for one or two of her best and most trusted costumers, did. Of course she charged a little extra. Making a good charm took time. It was similar to making vodka. It was all in the timing. The kiosk wasn't much but it was hers and she always prided herself on having a knack to sell. Yet today it was easy to sell her charms, from first thing this morning to just over two hours ago she had been selling nonstop. Something was definitely in the air today. It was like people knew something terrible was going to happen, but couldn't put their finger on what, and so some cosmic gut instinct led them to her kiosk. They knew somewhere within themselves they needed a lucky charm. It didn't matter what it was, it could be a four leaf clover or a unicorn rainbow keying. They needed something to hold onto. She'd made well over a month��s money in one day and felt happy for that. But she also felt unease. Something was up. She decided tomorrow she would dig around and find out what was making people so jittery. But for now she pulled up her now warming blanket and felt her eyes go heavy as her mind drifting away like some radio voice in... She rose up quickly and looked for her tablet. She remembered she had gotten a message earlier that afternoon that her favorite podcast show would be going live at midnight. The Abracadabra show was for people who dealt within paranormal circles. Its subscribers were less than 500 and the host Mr ASMR kept his identity a secret. Iva strongly suspected he was an Occult detective doing his own side number. She gave a tut as she finally found her tablet under a stack of to-read books. She quickly made a decaf green tea then curled back into her blanket and pressed play on her tablet and waited for the cool smooth voice of Mr ASMR as the midnight hour struck.