Twisted
Magic
Raven’s Cove Series
Book One
-
It’s a darkness that
doesn’t want to let go...
-
After being banished from
her coven five years ago, Sarah vowed to stay away from black magic
forever and instead tried to embrace the life of a white witch.
However, now a family death has brought her back to her hometown of
Raven’s Cove, and the good little witch is in line to inherit a
powerful gift.
Peter is invisible.
Voiceless. Imprisoned in the little cottage in the woods with no way
out, waiting for the day that someone will set him free, even as his
hope fades. He comes from a coven of white witches, yet was always
tempted by the power of dark magic.
Sarah and Peter find
themselves drawn together, and they soon learn that to escape the
dark magic that controls them, they must first learn to embrace it.
Because the only way to
rise out of the ashes is to first burn everything down to the ground.
Excerpt
I wrapped the blanket
tighter around my shoulders. My body was still shivering from the
rain and my coven’s abrupt entrance back into my life. At least I
knew where I stood with them now—there was no guessing involved.
Mother was in control now, and she was not happy to have me back. I
hadn’t thought she would be, or that I would be accepted by my
coven, and yet the facts still stung.
I gritted my teeth to stop
them from chattering and knelt down on the floor before reaching over
to throw another log into the fire. A scratching sound behind me had
my nerves prickling with worry. I turned swiftly, magic automatically
teasing at my fingertips, but only came face to face with
Whisky—Grandmother’s gray and white cat.
She jumped onto the back
of the sofa and made her way slowly toward me. She was a miserable
and untrusting animal, but who could blame her after all she had seen
over the years.
However, she loved to be
petted, and I reached out and scooped her up off the sofa and pulled
her onto my lap on the floor. She clawed at me and meowed loudly
until I began to stroke over her head and ears. I smoothed down her
soft fur and her fighting immediately ceased and her cries turned to
purrs. It had probably been weeks since anyone had shown her any
affection. My own mother certainly wouldn’t have made any effort to
come in and check on her.
Whisky rubbed her face
against me, purring loudly as I petted her, showering her with my
affection—affection that we both probably needed. I had loved this
wretched old cat when I was growing up, despite her zero tolerance
toward children. Seeing her again, petting her, was the best
homecoming I could have had given the circumstances, and I smiled
down into her face. But instead of another purr, she hissed and
wriggled out of my arms before jumping from my lap and back on to the
sofa
I turned to grab her
again, but instead my gaze fell to a man.
I gasped loudly and Whisky
scratched my hand, forcing me to pull it back. She then strutted off
toward the kitchen with a flick of her long tail.
The man leaned against
another dresser that stood along the back wall and was filled with
yet more of Grandmother’s teacups and pottery. His arms were
crossed over his chest, and his short blond hair was hanging a little
too long around his ears. He was looking me, his face blank of
emotions.
I watched him and he
watched me, our gazes grazing over one another until they met
somewhere in the middle and collided. He stood up straight, his
nostrils flaring while his eyes flashed with a deep intensity. His
stare was penetrating, seeing right through to my very core, yet his
expression remained unreadable.
“Who are you?” I
whispered out, fear clutching at my throat.
Mother, was all I could
think. Mother had sent him for me. I tried to contain the slight
tremble in my hands, and I gritted my teeth in defiance. I didn’t
know how he had gotten in—I thought I had protected myself and the
house against her. Regardless, there he was.
His jaw hung slack and his
handsome face looked to be drowning with relief. His knees buckled
and seemed to give way beneath him, and he stumbled forward a step
until he was almost clutching the back of the sofa to keep himself
upright. And the entire time, his eyes never left mine. I swallowed,
my nerve endings trembling with tension.
I stood up, my hands
curling into small fists. “I said, who are you? And what are you
doing here?” I kept my voice steady, showing more calm than I truly
felt.
Finally, he took a step
toward me. “She can see me,” he mumbled, more to himself than me.
His voice was soft yet hard and I frowned, not sure what to say to
that. Because yes, I could see him, but I didn’t understand why he
seemed surprised by it.
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR
Claire C. Riley is a USA
Today and International bestselling author. She is also a bestselling
British horror writer. Her work is best described as the
modernization of classic, old-school horror. She fuses multi-genre
elements to develop storylines that pay homage to cult classics while
still feeling fresh and cutting edge. She writes characters that are
realistic, and kills them without mercy. Claire lives in the United
Kingdom with her husband, three daughters, and one scruffy dog.
Author of:
Odium The Dead Saga
Series,
Odium Origins Series,
Limerence (The Obsession
Series)
Thicker than Blood series,
& Shut Up & Kiss
me,
Plus much more.
Contact
Links:
‘She
writes characters that are realistic and then kills them without
mercy’
–
Eli Constant author of Z-Children, Dead Trees, Mastic and much more.
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