Witches of East End
Melissa de la Cruz
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."
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
marveled again at how well Fair Haven and its surrounding grounds looked. She knew Bran had overseen the design changes and had kept much of the island’s natural growth intact, without disturbing the wildlife or the flora. He parked the car in the garage and turned to her as he cut the engine. “Listen, I know everything’s happened so fast. . . . If you need to change anything, if you change your mind . . . I’ll understand. I can wait for you. I just want you to be happy.” Then he looked at her
Cat scratch fever. That was all it was, wasn’t it? Like an itch you couldn’t quite reach, couldn’t placate, couldn’t satisfy. Freya felt as if she were on fire—that at any moment she would spontaneously combust and there would be nothing left of her but ashes and diamonds. Stop looking at him, she told herself. This is insane, just another of your bad ideas. Even worse than the time you brought the gerbil back to life (she’d gotten an earful from her mother for that one, lest someone on the
and adored. She looked up from the vase and found him still staring directly at her. It was as if he were waiting the whole time, for just this moment. He nodded his head, motioning to a nearby door. Truly? Right here? Right now? In the powder room? Was that not just another cliché that went with the motorcycle and the bad-boy attitude? Was she really going to go into the bathroom with another man—her fiancé’s brother, for god’s sake—at her engagement party? She was. Freya walked, as if in a
she could not, and now her top was being unbuttoned, the air cold on her skin, and she was not sure what was happening—where was her blanket? Then there was a hand on her mouth and she was jolted awake but she could not scream. She could not even open her eyes. There was a man on top of her; his hands were warm and soft and his body lay heavy upon hers, his hands on her chest, and she was naked underneath him; she struggled against his weight but there was nothing she could do, she was immobile
had discovered the hidden door. At the time, she had guessed that the house had been built to create the mystical doorway. But now she understood from reading the symbols that the house was not an entryway to the tree but had been created as a fortress to protect it. The house was a barrier, not a door. Ingrid gasped. It was all so clear now. She knew now what was causing all the problems—the silvery darkness, the underground explosion, the barren women, the dead animals, the toxin in the water