Coon
Hollow Coven Tales, #2
by Marsha
A. Moore
Date of Publication: April 27th
2016
Cover Artist: Marsha A. Moore
Genre: Paranormal Romance
BLURB
Eager to be on her own away from home,
twenty-year-old Aggie Anders accepts a relative’s invitation to live in Coon
Hollow Coven. Although she’s a witch from a different coven, what locals say
about the Hollow confuses her. How can witchcraft there live and breathe
through souls of the dead?
Aggie’s new residence in this strange
southern Indiana world is a deserted homestead cabin. The property’s carriage
house serves as the coven’s haunted Halloween fundraiser. It’s a great
opportunity for her to make new friends, especially with the coven’s sexy new
High Priest Logan.
But living in the homestead also
brings Aggie enemies. Outsiders aren’t welcome. A cantankerous, old neighbor
tries to frighten her off by warning her that the homestead is cursed. Local
witches who practice black magic attempt to use their evil to drive Aggie away
and rid their coven of her unusual powers as a sun witch.
Determined to stay and fit in, Aggie
discovers not only that the cabin is cursed, but she alone is destined to break
the curse before moonrise on Samhain. If she fails, neither the living nor the
dead will be safe.
About the Coon Hollow Coven Tales Series
The series is about a coven of witches
in a fictitious southern Indiana community, south of Bloomington, the neck of
the woods where I spent my favorite childhood years surrounded by the love of a
big family. The books are rich with a warm Hoosier down-home feel. There are
interesting interactions between coven members and locals from the nearby small
town of Bentbone. If magic wasn’t enough of a difference between the two
groups, the coven folk adhere to the 1930s lifestyle that existed when the
coven formed.
Book One
A shove of my
shoulder pried the rusty hinges on the heavy log cabin door loose. I flung my
blond braid to my back and peered inside. Beings and critters, alive and furry
as well as undead and translucent, flew, crawled, or slithered across dark
recesses of the hallway, sitting room, and stairwell.
“You weren’t kidding.
This place is haunted.” I shuddered and looked over my shoulder at Cerise. She
looked perky as always with her dark bobbed hair and lively brown eyes beneath
horn-rimmed eyeglasses. “Were those things relations or varmints?” I took a
cautious step over the threshold to escape the blustery weather and unbuttoned
my corduroy jacket.
“Oh, both, Aggie.
Ghosts of witch kin and their talking animal familiars,” she said and moved
past me to lift sheets off the sitting room furniture.
I raised a brow,
curious about what talking familiars were but was too afraid to ask. She didn’t
seem to think they were bad, and I needed a place to stay.
Cerise dropped the
sheets in a pile and wiped her dusty hands on her skirt. “Those sorts of ghosts
are in all the homes here in Coon Hollow Coven. Maybe some animal spirits, too,
from the surrounding woods. This property has at least fifty acres of forest.
The ghosts are harmless, part of the family. At least no neighbors have
complained, that I’ve heard.”
Eyeing corners of the
parlor and the length of the hall, I wondered if I could ever get used to
living with ghosts of people who’d lived here before. In New Wish, Indiana,
where I’d spent my entire twenty years, we only had an occasional ghost.
Usually lost souls who, for some reason, hadn’t found their peace before death
took them. Most times, those folks had been tormented by darkness and
experimented with black magic while they’d lived. Or so Mom told me, but I
always thought that was just her way of keeping me in line.
I pushed those
thoughts out of my head. I wanted a place of my own more than anything else,
and not in the tiny town of New Wish where everyone knew me…or thought they
did. They all said I was the spitting image of my Aunt Faye, with the same
light blond straight hair, deep blue eyes, dark brows, and quiet personality.
Everyone thought I’d grow up to be like her with a houseful of kids, seven or
more. Fact was, they didn’t know me. I wasn’t sure I even knew myself. There
was so much I wanted to learn and do that wouldn’t happen if I stayed at my
parents’ home.
Cerise struggled to
open the stuck window. “Aggie, can you help me here? Some fresh air might tempt
a few spirits outside. This place has been vacant since my mother passed in
2009. We might find just about anything in here after five years.”
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Author Info
Marsha A. Moore loves to write fantasy
and paranormal romance. Much of her life feeds the creative flow she uses to weave
highly imaginative tales.
The magic of art and nature spark life
into her writing, as well as other pursuits of watercolor painting and drawing.
She’s been a yoga enthusiast for over a decade and is a registered yoga
teacher. Her practice helps weave the mystical into her writing. After a move
from Toledo to Tampa in 2008, she’s happily transformed into a Floridian, in
love with the outdoors where she’s always on the lookout for portals to other
worlds. Marsha is crazy about cycling. She lives with her husband on a large
saltwater lagoon, where taking her kayak out is a real treat. She never has
enough days spent at the beach, usually scribbling away at stories with toes
wiggling in the sand. Every day at the beach is magical!
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