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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 508: On The Trail

Either the transport Ahbi used to give us our tour was much faster or Ram's magic just wasn't up to the same task, because it took us a couple of hours to reach Bilhaeder, just as the first of the suns was starting to come up. Nights were short on Demonicon, all those spinning stars making it almost impossible to predict, though I was sure there was a calendar of sunrises and sets somewhere.

Just as well. The view was even more spectacular than I remembered, the rainbow quality of the city's domes catching the early light, throwing back flashes of reds and blues and greens as we swooped low, still disguised by my power, into the edge of the city. I sighed sadly as Ram set us down on a quiet street, looking up at the tall domes further off, wanting to hold onto the wonder and contentment I'd felt through the ride, a welcome respite from the urgency of the last day or so.

Ram dropped his magic and I did the same, but he shook his head as he leaped out and turned to catch my eyes.