webnovel

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
Pas assez d’évaluations
803 Chs

Chapter 655: Old Friends

My initial knee-jerk, irritated reaction to Liam's star-struck lover boy routine faded as the weekend passed. In fact, by the time I languidly rose from his bed late Sunday afternoon, the smile I found on my face, reflected back to me from his bathroom mirror, was real and rather comical.

I'd never been one to accept being catered to. In fact, I was usually the one taking matters into my own hands. But having Liam wait on me hand and foot was becoming rather addictive.

His shower was smaller than mine, his shampoo all wrong for my hair, but whatever. I'd adapt. And make sure I stocked his bathroom with my stuff in the future. For now, I enjoyed more steam, more hot water, hugging myself with happiness and wondering what all my earlier fuss was about.

This could really go somewhere after all. It really could. I pictured myself walking down the aisle, looking up through demurely fluttering lashes, meeting chocolate eyes-

Damn it.