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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 · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
123 Chs

Chapter 39: Done With Dad

There was no use in trying to explain to him what happened, that much was obvious.

When Dad got that look on his face, the closed down and angry look I'd grown accustomed to over the last eight years, he was an immobile wall of temper that put Mom to shame. No, way worse. Because at least Mom's temper let her listen even when she was mad.

Dad? He just attacked everything and didn't apologize later.

"What do you think you're doing?" He stormed toward me at the same time the girls emerged from their room, their happy giggling shut down the instant they spotted Dad charging in my direction. For the briefest moment they swayed in my direction before I shook my head at them, though the warm feeling in my stomach that they thought to defend me instead of running? At eight years old and against their own father? Fuzzies inside, and love for my little sisters like I'd never experienced before.