WITCHES OF EAST END PDF
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"A sexy, magical romp, sure to bring de la Cruz a legion of new fans."-Kelley Armstrong, New York Times bestselling author of The Otherworld series From the . Download Best Book Witches of East End, PDF FILE Download Witches of East End Free Collection, PDF Download Witches of East End Total. Download Best Book Witches of East End, PDF FILE Download Witches of East End Free Collection, PDF Download Witches of East End.
Across the aisle is a teenager listening to his iPod from beneath his wool cap, staring out the window as he bobs his head. I can hear the repetitive beat from the earbuds. Behind me, a mother tells her child to shush, but the boy continues to ask her every few minutes how long it will take to get to NYC.
Before I slip the phone back into my pocket, I make sure the ringer is on in case she calls back. Then I watch the scenery unfold—verdant rolling hills, pink and white blossoms, a mare and her foal taking its first tremulous steps in a field by a barn.
Oscar has flown ahead. I must have fallen asleep. The diary is still in my lap. Some sort of disturbance jolted me awake. Is it me or has the train begun to wobble? It is suddenly very dark outside —dense storm clouds have swept in all around us. Whatever woke me has stopped. When I stand to look around, everyone else is looking around as well.
Why is it suddenly so dark? The good-looking man is no longer in front of me but gone from the car altogether. We are speeding along through a gunmetal gloom.
The car begins to vibrate alarmingly. The child lets out a frightened wail.
I better go see what is going on, find a ticket person or conductor. My long slumber had been mistaken for a coma, though the X-rays revealed no concussion or major harm. I had probably done most of my healing while Iwas transported to the hospital. The theory is that I got pinned in place, possibly lodged beneath a seat, as the train rolled over, thus no broken bones. My journal and iPhone were on the hospital bedside table when I came to.
The nurse said they had to pry the logbook from my grip when they wheeled me in.
What I remember: There was a loud clang, and the car wobbled as it detached from the train ahead. We became completely enshrouded in the gray mist, so that there was no visibility beyond the windows. Everything had gone silent. The passengers in the car were suddenly asleep, which was when I realized this was all directed at me. Was I being challenged? Icould feel the presence of one of my own kind nearby. Are you from the White Council? Ihad followed the rules. We were still moving along the tracks, but the car was slowing.
I laughed. I did. I thought this was a little slap on the wrist for a very minor infraction. This was surely not from the White Council.
This was something else. Something malicious, evil. It hit us again but with such tremendous force that the car came off the tracks, flipping over, and we were rolling down an incline, my body smacking against seats and windows, all of us tossed like clothes in a dryer.
It was a swirling blur of shock and helplessness and cracking bones and pain. Iblacked out. Only the teenager and I survived. Mother and child are dead along with about five others.
I realized then that I knew something was going to happen. It was black magic and of the most powerful and lethal sort. There had been a surge of it at the station, which I had sensed and now only realize in retrospect.
It sapped the life out of that poor woman who collapsed.
Witches A Witches of East End Primer
Some are susceptible like that, their life force used for fuel. But who would have had the audacity to practice post-Restriction? Black magic nonetheless? Strong enough to send a train flying off its tracks. Who even possesses that kind of power? Now more than ever I am convinced that I must be with my family. Something is brewing. This was just a warning, and only together can we fight it. I sense her as soon as the elevator doors open onto my floor, like a waft from a field of daffodils—earthy, rich, wild goodness, and wholesome milk and honey.
My sister is here. He was unconscious and on a respirator in the trauma ward, the only signs of life his rhythmic raspy breath in and out of the tube, the labored rise and fall of his chest, and the slow and steady pulse from the heart monitor. His face was swollen beyond recognition, body broken in a thousand pieces from the multiple blunt force trauma, limbs suspended, held in place with metal contraptions and pins, abrasions and lacerations covering every inch of his skin.
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Freya had brought me something to wear, and I was entirely too uncomfortable in the tight black shirt and skintight pants. She gave the cabbie directions to her place on the Lower East Side, then turned to me, her green eyes alarmed. They said the car detached at a crossing! I had a feeling—are you sure?
But who and why would anyone do this? Sell the bar and join me in North Hampton.
She stared at me, and now I saw the dark circles beneath her eyes, and her face, though youthful, looked puffy, as if she had been drinking too much.
I love the Holiday Lounge. I knew what I said sounded snooty, and I immediately regretted it. I tried a different tact.
But she only smirked and crossed her arms, turned away from me, and stared out the window as we hurled down Second Avenue. Please come home, or at least consider it. I decided to give it a break and visit her later at the bar after Ihad settled in. That evening, I borrowed a pair of jeans, a black T-shirt, and boots with not too steep a heel—not my usual dress— and strolled over to the Holiday on St.
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Click here. Subjects Fantasy Fiction Romance. Their beautiful, mist-shrouded town seems almost stuck in time, and all three women lead seemingly quiet, uneventful existences. But they are harboring a mighty secret-they are powerful witches banned from using their magic. Joanna can resurrect people from the dead and heal the most serious of injuries.
Ingrid, her bookish daughter, has the ability to predict the future and weave knots that can solve anything from infertility to infidelity. And finally, there's Freya, the wild child, who has a charm or a potion that can cure most any heartache. For centuries, all three women have been forced to suppress their abilities. But then Freya, who is about to get married to the wealthy and mysterious Bran Gardiner, finds that her increasingly complicated romantic life makes it more difficult than ever to hide her secret.
Soon Ingrid and Joanna confront similar dilemmas, and the Beauchamp women realize they can no longer conceal their true selves. They unearth their wands from the attic, dust off their broomsticks, and begin casting spells on the townspeople.She took a sip from her wineglass and grimaced.
But the ugly scene she had just witnessed—and she did not know who exactly was in peril, Becky, Ross, or their baby; the image did not reveal that much—made her think. These were her people, worshippers at her temple. Letting Her Hair Down : She does this sometimes and whe she does it most people notice how beautiful she actually is. The fund-raiser for the local art institution was a springtime tradition.
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