Meet Rue Channing.
She's just the witch to finish what her ancestors started.
She's just the witch to finish what her ancestors started.
by ReGina Welling
Genre: Paranormal Women’s Fiction
Three hundred years ago, one witch had to live with her mistakes. Today, another might have to die for them.
Tansy Shackleton has spent her entire life carrying the guilt of her family's legacy. If not for her ancestor's mistake, good witches might not be trapped in the coastal town of Laurel Haven, Maine. But no matter how hard she tries to make amends, she can't stop seeing the stain on her soul. Not even at the cost of her marriage.
Connor Shackleton has tried everything he can think of to get his wife to see that she's not to blame for the unwitting actions of a long-dead witch. At his wit's end and unable to watch Tansy work herself into the ground for something that wasn't even her fault, he proposes they take a break for a few days, just to get some perspective.
He should have known Tansy would martyr both their happiness on the alter of guilt, but he didn't. He wanted her back almost from the minute he walked away, but she's shut him out of her life as firmly as the door she closed behind him.
The problem is, life and death in Laurel Haven go hand in hand for witches of the blood, and just like Tansy, Connor's one of them. The only way to move forward is to turn and face the past head-on. Together with her new coven, Tansy will have to put all of Laurel Haven's ghosts to rest or die trying.
Excerpt 1
“More wine?” As it always had, the sound of Connor’s voice tickled a path from her ears to her center with a detour through her heart. She knew that voice in every shade it came in—quietly amused, achingly tender, ragged with need—and right now it hit notes all three.
Given the state of their marriage, she should have thanked him and turned away.
She didn’t.
He held the bottle out with that easy, lopsided smile that had once made her say yes to forever without hesitation. And maybe it was the firelight or the wine or the way his hair had gone all unruly from salt air and sweat, but he looked so damn good it made her breath catch in her throat.
“Are you trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?”
“Me? Never. I’m not that kind of guy. Is that glitter in your hair?”
Leave it to him to notice. Even in the writhing shadows cast by the flickering bonfire, the man paid attention—to everything. To her. Always to her.
“Probably. I had a shift at Haven’s Rest. You can’t say you’ve really lived until you’ve witnessed a pole dancing class for seniors.”
His brow lifted and his smile deepened until it made her stomach tighten. She wasn’t imagining the warmth in his eyes. It was there—open and unguarded, like he hadn’t spent the last year trying to understand what had gone wrong between them.
“Hence the glitter?”
“Hence,” she said, nodding. “The things I’ve seen—I can’t even tell you, but I’m sure I’m scarred for life.”
“Worse than facing the Shadespawn?” Rue asked from her seat on the other side of the dwindling fire.
“Possibly. Seraphina Morgan stripped down to a thong.” Tansy took a slow sip of wine, then added, “And not just any thong. Sequined. Purple. With fringe.” She shuddered for effect. “There was choreography. And a chair involved, and I swear to every goddess that ever existed, no one who saw the performance will ever be the same.”
Poppy choked on her drink. Rue suggested a brain bleaching spell.
“Whose idea was that?” Bella wanted to know.
“No idea, but I’m telling you,” Tansy went on, “that woman hit a split that defied both her age and several laws of physics. I’m not sure if I’m horrified or deeply impressed.”
Connor snorted, clinking his cup gently against hers before taking a sip. His gaze didn’t leave her face. She felt it on her skin like a caress, soft and careful but full of memory. The glint of amusement there unraveled something small but stubborn inside her.
She remembered exactly what it would feel like to slide her tongue into that adorable dimple in his chin. It had been nearly a year since she’d let herself get close enough to her husband to want him this badly. The separation hadn’t been easy on her or him, but it had done nothing to dim the fire between them. If anything, it had made her more aware of how badly she missed what they’d had—before it all fell apart.
What are you thinking? The voice in her head was not fully hers, and it wasn’t particularly pleasant. You let him back in, you’ll hurt him again.
“More wine?” As it always had, the sound of Connor’s voice tickled a path from her ears to her center with a detour through her heart. She knew that voice in every shade it came in—quietly amused, achingly tender, ragged with need—and right now it hit notes all three.
Given the state of their marriage, she should have thanked him and turned away.
She didn’t.
He held the bottle out with that easy, lopsided smile that had once made her say yes to forever without hesitation. And maybe it was the firelight or the wine or the way his hair had gone all unruly from salt air and sweat, but he looked so damn good it made her breath catch in her throat.
“Are you trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?”
“Me? Never. I’m not that kind of guy. Is that glitter in your hair?”
Leave it to him to notice. Even in the writhing shadows cast by the flickering bonfire, the man paid attention—to everything. To her. Always to her.
“Probably. I had a shift at Haven’s Rest. You can’t say you’ve really lived until you’ve witnessed a pole dancing class for seniors.”
His brow lifted and his smile deepened until it made her stomach tighten. She wasn’t imagining the warmth in his eyes. It was there—open and unguarded, like he hadn’t spent the last year trying to understand what had gone wrong between them.
“Hence the glitter?”
“Hence,” she said, nodding. “The things I’ve seen—I can’t even tell you, but I’m sure I’m scarred for life.”
“Worse than facing the Shadespawn?” Rue asked from her seat on the other side of the dwindling fire.
“Possibly. Seraphina Morgan stripped down to a thong.” Tansy took a slow sip of wine, then added, “And not just any thong. Sequined. Purple. With fringe.” She shuddered for effect. “There was choreography. And a chair involved, and I swear to every goddess that ever existed, no one who saw the performance will ever be the same.”
Poppy choked on her drink. Rue suggested a brain bleaching spell.
“Whose idea was that?” Bella wanted to know.
“No idea, but I’m telling you,” Tansy went on, “that woman hit a split that defied both her age and several laws of physics. I’m not sure if I’m horrified or deeply impressed.”
Connor snorted, clinking his cup gently against hers before taking a sip. His gaze didn’t leave her face. She felt it on her skin like a caress, soft and careful but full of memory. The glint of amusement there unraveled something small but stubborn inside her.
She remembered exactly what it would feel like to slide her tongue into that adorable dimple in his chin. It had been nearly a year since she’d let herself get close enough to her husband to want him this badly. The separation hadn’t been easy on her or him, but it had done nothing to dim the fire between them. If anything, it had made her more aware of how badly she missed what they’d had—before it all fell apart.
What are you thinking? The voice in her head was not fully hers, and it wasn’t particularly pleasant. You let him back in, you’ll hurt him again.
Three hundred years ago, four witches went into the forest to cast a spell of protection against the evil creeping into their town but they were too late.
Today, Rue Channing never sees it coming, and she should because seeing is her special power. Still, who would have expected to be kidnapped and hauled off to a small coastal town in Maine?
But that is exactly what happened. Now, Rue, a lover of order and strict routines, is dragged out of her comfort zone and into a new life in the small, coastal town of Laurel Haven.
Things could not be worse, she thinks, until she meets the man next door and decides they could. Ry McFadden is the most infuriating man on the planet. He’s a study in contrasts; grumpy yet generous, intensely private, but somehow open. Rue can’t think what to do with him, except she can, and that just makes things worse.
The problem is, Ry McFadden just might be part of Rue’s destiny as she learns she’s been brought to Laurel Haven to finish what her ancestors started.
About the Author:
ReGina Welling prefers not to talk about herself in the third person so...
I live in Maine with my husband, a silly flufferpup named Dash, and a crazy cat named Cricket. I write full time and also create mixed media artwork when I get the chance.
When I was three, my mom brought home a new book and when she went to read it to me, I read it to her instead. That was when she realized I'd learned to read. Since then I couldn't even estimate the number of books I've read. It's a lot!
I love talking to other readers so please visit me in any one of these various places and don't forget to let me know you stopped by!
ReGina Welling prefers not to talk about herself in the third person so...
I live in Maine with my husband, a silly flufferpup named Dash, and a crazy cat named Cricket. I write full time and also create mixed media artwork when I get the chance.
When I was three, my mom brought home a new book and when she went to read it to me, I read it to her instead. That was when she realized I'd learned to read. Since then I couldn't even estimate the number of books I've read. It's a lot!
I love talking to other readers so please visit me in any one of these various places and don't forget to let me know you stopped by!
$10 Amazon
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