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Hayle Coven Novels

I’m an international, multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in my head. As a singer, songwriter, independent filmmaker and improv teacher and performer, my life has always been about creating and sharing what I create with others. Now that my dream to write for a living is a reality, with over a hundred titles in happy publication and no end in sight, I live in beautiful Prince Edward Island, Canada, with my giant cats, pug overlord and overlady and my Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn. ***WORLD'S BEST STORY2014*** Her mom's a witch. Her dad's a demon. And she just wants to be ordinary. I batted at the curl of smoke drifting off the tip of my candle and tried not to sneeze. My heavy velvet cloak fell in oppressive, suffocating folds in the closed space of the ceremony chamber, the cowl trapping the annoying bits of puff I missed. I hated the way my eyes burned and teared, an almost constant distraction. Not that I didn't welcome the distraction, to be honest. Anything to take my mind from what went on around me. Being part of a demon raising is way less exciting than it sounds. Sydlynn Hayle's teen life couldn't be more complicated. Trying to please her coven is all a fantasy while the adventure of starting over in a new town and fending off a bully cheerleader who hates her are just the beginning of her troubles. What to do when delicious football hero Brad Peters--boyfriend of her cheer nemesis--shows interest? If only the darkly yummy witch, Quaid Moromond, didn't make it so difficult for her to focus on fitting in with the normal kids despite her paranormal, witchcraft laced home life. Add to that her crazy grandmother's constant escapes driving her family to the brink and Syd's between a rock and a coven site. Forced to take on power she doesn't want to protect a coven who blames her for everything, only she can save her family's magic. If her family's distrust doesn't destroy her first.

Patti Larsen · Urbano
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803 Chs

Chapter 686: Witches For Tea

Book Eighteen: Enforcer

I lifted the tea cup to my lips in an effort to hide my fake smile was morphing into a grimace of anguish.

Huan Wong, the Santos Council member, sat across from me, her round cheeks flushed as she fixed her narrow eyes on my empty left hand.

Considering the fact it was August and my twenty-first birthday had come and gone months ago, I knew the absence of a wedding band was the main reason for this little visit from the High Council.

That's right. The entire High Council of North American Witches sat in my living room, sipping tea from Mom's china while I ground my teeth together in an effort to keep from kicking the lot of them out of my house.

It's not like I didn't expect this visit. Mom warned me long before now I'd have a price to pay for ducking my head and barreling through my birthday at Beltane, June, July and now part of August in clear rebellion of Council law. I was supposed to be married by now.

Grumble, mumble.

Freakout.