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Hayle Coven Inheritance

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. The Challenge “Jagger Santos,” Coradine said, voice singsong and trying to be endearing while I gagged a little over her cutsie attempt to be coy. So gross. “This is the one I was telling you about.” He didn’t look at her, his hunger for the fight apparent. “Ethie Hayle,” he said, deep voice full of daggers. “I’ve been looking forward to this.” I could have said no. Just turned on my heel and left, walked away, got the hell out of there. Should have. It was one thing to fight my own coven for “fun” occasionally. A way to let off steam, to expend some of my pent up anger in a reasonably safe way that ensured if they didn’t like me, they at least stayed out of my way. But a witch from another territory? The Santos coven wasn’t exactly on GreatGram’s favorite list, either. This could only end badly. Ethie Hayle has spent her whole life sheltered by the coven, her powerful family and the fear that an unknown enemy could, at any moment, leap out of the veil and hurt her. Talk about smothering when all she wants is to have the freedoms her oh-so-special brother, Gabriel, seems to take for granted. But when a strange woman appears and offers her a gift, Ethie discovers the concerns her mother and great-grandmother have harbored aren’t all that ridiculous after all and that there are powers in the Universe she can’t imagine…

Patti Larsen · Fantaisie
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123 Chs
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Chapter 85: What I Was Becoming

Hong Kong never felt so foreign, so inhospitable and unwelcoming. Not because anyone there made me feel like I didn't belong. As a matter of fact, when I touched down in the kid's room, I ensured no one knew I was there to begin with. Couldn't face Mom or Nanna or even GreatGram again, not after what I'd done.

What I was becoming.

I sank to the floor amid the gathering of objects, marble cold under my jeans, darkness through the window reminding me it was a day later than where I'd come from, lights still bright despite the early hours of morning in the sprawling city below. The transmuted kids, instead of greeting me as they always had, touched me with their power, tentative at first, but with growing confidence as they realized such a thing was possible. Through our ties to Viviana and my own growing control, they reached out for me and I flinched from them, not wanting them to see me, to see what I'd done, that I was becoming the very woman they feared and hated.