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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 · Urbano
Classificações insuficientes
803 Chs

Chapter 702: Pay Attention

Shenka rushed toward me as the wild magicks threw themselves into a frenzy of fluttering, battering me with their power.

"What do they want?" She was calm, at least, though the faces of the other witches, from various covens, now gathered in the large center common room weren't quite so composed.

"I don't know." I gritted my teeth against the constant pecking of the magicks and threw out a soft net of my own power. They stilled immediately, coming to heel almost like trained creatures, though they didn't calm so much as focus.

Again with the images, the shattering crystals, the broken machine. Belaisle, me, and the darkness. I clung to them, my power teasing out more information. The mirror again, cracking in the center, shattering into a multitude of shards.

Why did that image tweak a memory?

But which memory?

The wild magicks shrieked and fled so suddenly I staggered, realizing as they disappeared through the canopy of the pavilion it wasn't they who screamed.