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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 · Urbain
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803 Chs

Chapter 221: Jealous Much?

"Syd!" Alison's enthusiastic arrival at my locker almost drove me face-first into the thin door. She was smiling, though her vulnerability hovered just behind it. At least she was in a good mood after yesterday's pouting. "Sorry I'm late." She rolled her eyes. "My flat iron died, can you imagine?" Her hands went to the artful pile she'd created out of her blonde hair. "I had to settle for this nest."

"Looks great, Al." I secured my stuff inside the narrow box before jamming it shut and locking it. "I like it up."

"Really?" That word came out kind of squealy and hurt my ears. She grabbed my arm, pulling me along with her. "How was detention?"

Speaking of the hell of yesterday afternoon, the moment she asked I spotted Ms. Spaft. It was my clear intention to avoid the woman as much as possible, but she seemed to have different ideas. Her gaze locked on mine, icy cold sternness laser focused on me.