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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 · 都市
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803 Chs

Chapter 587: Retreat

Gram's grim expression told me my own couldn't have looked good. Instead of grilling me for answers, she hustled me around the corner and toward the exit, Charlotte sniffing at me, chuffing softly, angrily as though she could smell Ameline all over me.

Which I knew for a fact she couldn't. Hadn't been able to for ages.

Pissed Charlotte off to no end, too. I knew how she felt.

We practically ran down the stairs, Gram setting a grueling pace. My vibrating thighs and aching butt were happy to alert me to the fact I was going to suffer for a few days. Sitting down would likely be impossible without serious groaning and complaining.

But I ignored the feeling, ignored everything, let Gram lead and Charlotte follow, trusted them to keep me going in the right direction while my mind churned and the core of fear and anger in my guts writhed like a living thing.