About The Hawthorne Witch:
It was my senior year at Hawthorne University when everything fell apart. I mean, all my witch friends got along fine—sort of. But I was nervous about my love life. I just had to get into Hawthorne’s graduate program, because my boyfriend was going to be a professor. I didn’t want to lose him. I didn’t want to lose anyone.
And things got weirder. A witch was threatened with sacrificial murder. Another witch spent all day murmuring to herself, in the center of a circle of candles, on a pentagram she painted in her dorm room. It all pointed to the wicked witch of the Abaddon coven. If I was right, it might just take a full-fledged witch showdown to stop her.
So? Bring it on. What did I have to lose? Just everyone I love. And maybe my soul.
The Hawthorne Witch is Book 3 in the Hawthorne University Witch Series. The books in this series are complete self-contained novels not ending in cliffhangers. Some spoilers cannot be avoided, but this is a stand-alone novel that can be enjoyed without reading the other books in the series.
Content warning: The Hawthorne Witch is a new adult college paranormal romance containing profanity, sexual scenes, adult situations, and, of course, witchcraft.
Excerpt:
Cordelia approaches our bonfire. Her cloak is similar to ours, but it’s scarlet. Under the fire, I recognize a face completely covered in black tattoos. She touches the fire from her torch into the flames and then plants the torch firmly in the grass. With a fake smile, she sits down cross-legged in front of the fire. We’re all standing over her.
“Tradition allows a witch from another coven to visit freely during Lammas,” she says. “I send you greetings from Panthera and her Abaddon coven, as a representative of her circle. My master would love for me to join with you in partaking of bread.”
“Get the hell out of here,” I say.
“How rude. Panthera warned me you’d be like this.” Then the bitch looks at Beatrix with contempt. “And how are you doing, Beatrix? Didn’t you help me bind Bryce’s wrists and try to burn him alive? I think it was you. It was you, wasn’t it? I think Katie remembers.”
I grab Cordelia by the arm. She’s much bigger than I am and could normally bend me over her knee and break my back. She jumps up, flaunting her size. But I’m angry, and when I’m angry, I feel magic. I feel my trance growing and giving me confidence and power. And when she moves to grab Beatrix, I throw her to the ground.
“Get out!” I yell.
She laughs, lying on her side on the wild grass.
“Okay.” She puts her hand up because I’m about to grab her and throw her again. “I’ll leave. But I come with another message. My master told me that I better not find you actually helping our little harlot. For a year, she respected your wishes for saving her, but if you dare help Beatrix, you are threatening to break the peace.”
Beatrix starts wailing on her knees by the fire. We all look at her. This is what she did all last night. She just cried and cried and cried. She’s a complete mess. It’s really annoying. Cordelia looks at her with disgust, and I’m thinking she’s probably spent hours consoling the witch too.
“You won’t let me return with her?” Cordelia asks, still leaning on an elbow in the grass. “I told you the risk. I warned you, Windstorm.”
My silence is my answer.
“Very well.” She gets up with a nod. “I’ll tell my master. But I don’t think you’re going to be happy with her response.”
“Wait, I’ll go!” Beatrix yells, jumping up, still in tears. “I’ll go! Please! Please leave them alone.”
Of all people, Mandy grabs Beatrix’s arm and pulls her close. Mandy looks at me and shakes her head.
Cordelia lets out what sounds almost like a growl. For a moment, I could almost swear her eyes flicker red. I reach for her torch, leaning beside the fire. The torch flies about twenty feet through the air and lands in my hand. She stares and shakes her head, and she looks afraid for the first time. I shove the torch against her chest.
“Go!” I shout. “Get out of here! Get out!”
Cordelia steps back from me, nearly falling over. “Talk…to Mira,” she mutters. Then she forces a fake smile but steps far away from me. “We’d love to recruit you too.”
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About A.L. Hawke:
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