Witches of East End
Melissa de la Cruz
Language: English
Pages: 304
ISBN: 1401310915
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
"Move over, zombies, vampires, and werewolves, and make way for witches. Melissa de la Cruz, author of the best-selling Blue Bloods series, ably sets the stage for a juicy new franchise."
-Entertainment Weekly
The three Beauchamp women-Joanna and her daughters, Freya and Ingrid-live ordinary lives in mist-shrouded North Hampton, out on the tip of Long Island. All three are harboring a centuries-old secret: They are powerful witches forbidden to practice magic. But right before Freya's planned wedding to wealthy Bran Gardiner, a mysterious and attractive man arrives in town and makes Freya question everything. When a young woman turns up dead, it soon becomes clear to all three that it's time to dust off their wands and fight the dark forces working against them.
With a brand-new cast of characters, a fascinating and fresh world to discover, and a few surprise appearances from some of the Blue Blood fan favorites, this is a page-turning, deliciously fun, magical read fraught with love affairs, witchcraft, mythology, and an unforgettable battle between good and evil.
"A bubbling cauldron of mystery and romance." -People
"In her first novel for adults, the author . . . lets her repressed sorceresses rip." -The New York Times
Warrior (The Blades of the Rose, Book 1)
Heart Of The Dreaming (Heart of the Dreaming, Book 1)
know they would taste fantastic: light and buttery with a nutty sweetness. She stacked two plates and brought them to the table. She drizzled her pancakes with maple syrup, while Ingrid ate hers with fruit. “Did Mother tell you about the dead birds on our beach the other day?” Ingrid asked. Freya nodded, forking her pancake. “Yeah. What’s the big deal?” “She’s not sure. She thinks it’s an omen.” “Uh-huh. Remember when she thought my old English teacher was a warlock who was out to get us
what was happening? She had not done anything to bring it back to life, she was quite sure. Joanna watched in fascination as the green spread like a wave across the dune, bringing all the plants to life. She threw the stalk away and gazed in wonderment at the thick green grass. It felt lush and soft to the touch, and had grown waist-high. She almost laughed, but there was a sudden tickle at the back of her neck and she spun around. All around her the grass had multiplied and was winding upward
before entering and found it was ajar. She slipped inside. It was a small studio apartment, and Joanna was not prepared for what she found. A tiny room, spare and monastic. There was one small futon, with folded blankets, a refrigerator the size of a small cabinet, one writing desk with nothing on its surface except for a few photographs. There was a picture of Ingrid taken during graduation at the university—he had probably snuck that one while no one was looking—and one of Freya from when she
time with a worse infection. The doctors could not explain it: there was no bacterial infection, and he did not respond to viral treatment, either. But Tyler was not the only one: there were two other children on the ward with the same symptoms; and in the main hospital, there were adults with the same phlegmy, forceful cough, the same ragged breathing. Like Tyler, the victims had displayed milder symptoms in the beginning that could be attributed to allergies or the flu; but one by one they took
Freya had forgotten: she was supposed to meet him at the North Inn an hour ago, and of course he had gone looking for her. This was supposed to be their big joyful reunion. Bran Gardiner. Balder. The God of Joy and Peace, of Beauty and Light, who personified everything that was good and true in the world. The best of them all. Her kind and gentle mate. They were made to be together. His mother, the goddess Frigg, had decreed that nothing on earth could hurt him. Yet she had forgotten to shield
