Tuesday, December 5, 2017

Magically Bound (Hunted Witch Agency, Book 1) by Rachel Medhurst

Release date: November 28, 2017
Subgenre: Urban Fantasy

About Magically Bound:


Witch, Warlock, Whatever…My name’s Devon Jinx, and, yes, I’m half warlock, half witch. But I couldn't care less about which kind of magic is better. All I want to do is keep my head down and get on with my new job as an investigator at the Hunted Witch Agency.

A recent, shall we say, mistake, has put me in place to inherit the leadership of the warlocks. Which means only one thing. I have a choice to make: Leave behind my life of witchery to become a warlock, or lose my warlock magic forever.

Complicating my choice is the fact that someone is trying to destroy the warlock coven. If I don't stop them, the warlocks will be annihilated. The task seems impossible until Gerard Freshwater, a distractingly handsome witch, explodes into my life. He's determined to make me see that being a witch isn't just the best option, but the only option.



If he dared to take one more step, my magic would put him out of his misery. He must be miserable if he was following me. Creep.
“Come out, then,” I shouted, spinning in the dark street.
The shadows hid my stalker, but I knew he was there. I could feel the presence of the low life scum. And, if he didn’t show himself, I would show him my fist.
“Don’t even think about killing me.” Ah, there he was.
The London street shrunk as a group of warlocks came out from the shadows, their arms raised, ready for a fight. Good, let them be ready, I was also ready. And, extremely pissed off. Didn’t they know that I had a job interview to get to?
The leader was a tall man, although any person over the age of thirteen was taller than me, so that wasn’t a hard accomplishment to achieve. His dark skin was smooth, his leather jacket creaking as he moved. Closer, but not quite close enough.
My heartbeat resounded in my head, reminding me that I was alive. Reminding me that I had a reason to live.
“What do you want?” I demanded, my hands held loosely by my side.
I hadn’t made up my mind about which magic I would use. Being a half-breed was good for one thing, the other person never knew how I would attack. Which was exactly why both witches and warlocks feared me.
The warlock held up a hand to stop the approach of the other four. They were all men, like most warlocks. Although there had been some gender cross-over, it wasn’t until I was born to a witch mother and a warlock father that female warlocks even existed.
The stark streetlamp overhead highlighted the others well. I stood back, using the darkness to camouflage myself as much as possible. The backstreet was a shortcut between two main roads in London city. My journey had been taking me to the River Thames, which was where the building for the Hunted Witch Agency stood.
Tilting his head to the side, the warlock laughed, the small insignificant sound filtering through his white teeth. He mocked me. Nope, not on my watch.
Crouching, I extended my right arm, conjuring a ball of flames. My wrist flicked, sending it towards my enemies. They scattered, their yelps of surprise making the corner of my lip lift into my cheek. They weren’t expecting me to attack all five of them.
Moving, I circled as they held up their hands. Were they seriously scared? Or, playing me for a fool?
“If you leave now, I’ll leave your balls intact,” I said, smirking when a couple of them rolled their eyes.
They’d obviously heard of my reputation. So what if I’d accidentally de-balled a couple of witches a few years ago? We had been having fun when my magic had taken over. All had been forgiven. Yet, every person in the underworld associated my name, Devon Jinx, as the half-breed that ripped out men’s bollocks. Like the Americans say, my bad.
“Don’t fight us, Devon, he needs to see you.” The leader of the small warlock pack held his hands up in surrender.
As if I would believe him. Every single warlock in the coven of London wanted me dead. I didn’t really blame them, I had killed their leader. Again, my bad.

Currently available for the special new release price of 99 cents at


About Rachel Medhurst:

Rachel Medhurst grew up in Surrey, England. She writes to prove that no matter where you come from, you can be anything you want to be. Your past may shape you, but it doesn't define you. When Rachel isn't writing, she can be found reading and walking in nature.

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