The Witches of Hollow Cove Bundle, Books 8-14 - Paperback

All I wanted to do was sit back and relax with a certain, hot, very, very hot, panty-melting hot—wereape. But, instead, I’m busy trying to find the queen of hell.

Have I found her? Not yet. And I’m running out of places to look. I know it’s only a matter of time before she does something stupid—like obliterate an entire town because they dressed better than her because that’s who she is.But I’ve got worse problems.

Things soon spiral down the crapper when two teenagers are found dead in Hollow Cove. The evidence points to something witchy.

A new evil hangs over our town, a significant threat to the Davenport witches and all the witches in Hollow Cove. I must defeat this new threat to keep my loved ones safe.Easy peasy, right? We’ll see.

I blinked at the letter. It didn’t matter how many times I read it. It
always said the same thing.

To the residents of Davenport House,

On behalf of the Hollow Cove town administration, I would like to
extend a warm invitation to attend the Annual Hollow Cove Pie Festival on
Saturday, the 25th of April. The festival begins at noon in the downtown core
and will continue until 9 p.m.

We are looking forward to the festive day. May the best pie win!

Addendum: Due to your niece’s track record of destroying property,
Tessa Davenport is banned from participating in any of the contests. 

Yours Sincerely,

Gilbert Gilderoy, Mayor

I stiffened in my chair, gritting my teeth as anger welled inside me. It
wasn’t news that Gilbert had it in for me. Ever since I’d accidentally
burned down the town gazebo, it seemed the little shifter went out of his way
to make me pay for it, by any means he could. This was his payback. But
excluding me from a town festival? This time he'd gone too far. 

Ordinary people celebrated spring with Easter bunnies, giant chickens
made of chocolate, and egg hunts. But Hollow Cove’s celebration was the polar
opposite of normal, and we celebrated with an annual pie festival.

For the past few months, I’d been preoccupied with trying to find Lilith
(a.k.a. Queen of Hell), searching for her during the day, and training with my
father at night, as he worked to hone my demon mojo. Gilbert’s continued
animosity toward me was the least of my worries.

Winter came and went, giving life to spring, and still, I had no idea
where Lilith was. I’d searched everywhere for the queen of hell, but I’d come
up short. Iris and I had even returned to the funeral home in hopes of finding
some more DNA or evidence that we could use to track her. We’d even searched
the bedrooms hoping to find some clues as to where the queen of hell might have
gone. But all we found were copies of spells for transfigurations and glamours,
the magic that gave the Sisters of the Circle their fake bodies.

After that, I’d turned to the internet, searching for global disasters or
supernatural occurrences that couldn’t be explained, anything out of the norm
for the human world. 

And still, I found nothing that would give me her location.

“Who locked her up?” I’d asked my father on the very first night we’d
started our training after I’d filled him in on the whole, “I let the queen of
hell escape into our world to save Dolores” fiasco.

My father had been quiet for a while. “Her husband. Lucifer.”

My eyebrows practically sailed off my forehead. “That sounds like an
excellent story. Should I get some wine?”

Obiryn, my demon father, gave me a small smile. “It’s not. It’s a
terrible story.”

“I’m still getting the excellent story vibes. What did she do to piss him
off?” I smiled knowingly. “She slept with his best friend. Didn’t she?” 

My father shrugged. “It’s not so much that she made him angry. It was
more of a question of dominance.”

I raised a brow. “Let me guess. He wanted to control her, and she didn’t
want anything to do with that, so he locked her up and threw away the key?” It
wasn’t that I felt sorry for Lilith, but I didn’t think it right for any
husband to try and control their wife, goddess or not. 

“I’ll give you the short version.” My father grabbed a chair and sat.
“You have to understand who Lilith is first.”

“She’s the queen of hell. I think that says it all.”

My father crossed his legs at the knee and leaned back, looking like a
college professor. “Yes. But more accurately, she’s one of the Old Gods, a race
of immortal entities created by God. Each served as a prime authority with
ancient human religions. The thing with these pagan gods or deities is that all
of them are petty, cruel, unfeeling, and only concerned with themselves.”

“Sounds like Lilith,” I said.

My father pursed his lips. “They lack empathy. They’re psychopaths. They
enjoyed the many human offerings, the virgin sacrifices, and many of them were
known to have a taste for human flesh. They enjoyed torturing and
killing humans.”

“Nice.”

“Lilith was no different, but she excelled in creation and magic, and she
helped Lucifer build and shape the Netherworld to what it is today. For
thousands of years, she assisted him in creating demons and all the other
creatures, helping him mold the Netherworld.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m sensing we’re getting to the good
part.”

Obiryn gave a soft laugh. “Lilith outrivaled in creation. She was better
than Lucifer. Her skills as a goddess grew, empowered by her gift, and so did
her magic. She became the very first witch.”

“No kidding? I’ll admit—that's interesting.”

My father nodded. “As such, Lilith’s abilities in creation surpassed
Lucifer’s. She became more popular too. And Lucifer wouldn’t have it. He became
jealous. When he saw a shift in his people, saw how they preferred Lilith to
rule in his stead, he appointed a team of the best mages and wizards to strip
her of her magic and hide her away in that cage.”

“I’d ask for a divorce.” I shook my head. “I know why she’s so angry.
Lucifer’s a bit of an ass. Isn’t he?”

He shrugged. “Never met him.”

“And everyone in your world knows this? Wouldn’t those who favored Lilith
look for her or something?”

“Not everyone knew about it,” answered my father. “Only the older demons,
such as me and a few younger demons. But Lucifer had an answer for that too. He
spread lies about Lilith. He had the demon communities believe that she’d
abandoned them, that she preferred the company of humans over demons.”

“So, he made them believe she was here? In our world this whole time?”

“Yes.”

I shook my head, remembering that cold, intense stare Lilith had when I
spoke about the ones who’d imprisoned her. “I thought she did something
terrible like… I don’t know… killed an entire nation or something? But she
didn’t. Basically, she was innocent.”

“I wouldn’t go as far as calling her innocent.”

I looked over at my demon father. “Why didn’t you or your demon pals help
her if you thought she was imprisoned?”

My father raked his beard with his fingers. “It’s too late to get into
all that. But Lucifer has many allies, armies loyal to him, and her whereabouts
weren’t known to us. A small group of us searched for her. We knew the risks.
If Lucifer found us out, he would have destroyed us. We looked for many years.
We only managed to find her location about three hundred years ago, but getting
close enough to let her out was impossible. Not from the Netherworld.”

“But possible from our side.” I nodded. “Which is why Lilith needed that
coven of quacks to help her.”

“You are correct.”

The pieces started to take shape. I had a much better idea of who Lilith
was and what had happened to her. Her revenge would be directed at her husband.
I had no doubt about that. Because if it were me, that’s exactly what I’d be
doing: looking for his traitorous ass. 

What was Lilith planning? Who knew? That was the Netherworld’s business.
I just didn’t want her to take out her rage on us, on this side of the planes.

My conversation with my father had put my mind at ease somewhat. I didn’t
think she wanted to annihilate the human population anymore, but I still wanted
to keep tabs on her, just in case she changed her mind. She did mention that
she loved to torture mortals. And the fact that she’d been imprisoned for so
long had to have affected her in many ways. She was definitely not the same
goddess coming out as she was going in. 

The rest of that night had been focused more on channeling and
controlling my demon mojo. My father had been an excellent teacher and very
patient, even after I’d burned off his beard and his eyebrows. Whoops.

“You’re going to ruin your eyes if you keep staring at that letter so
close like that.” I looked up to find Ruth standing next to the table. “It
happened to our Great-Aunt Flora,” she continued. “She went blind as a bat.” 

“That’s because she got ink poisoning from eating the letters afterward,”
snapped Dolores.

Ruth ignored her sister and put the steaming cup of coffee on the table
next to me. “Here,” she said, the skin around her blue eyes crinkling with her
smile. “Have some coffee. I put in a bit of cocoa and cinnamon, just like you
like it.”

“Thanks, Ruth.” I took a sip and moaned. “Divine. You spoil me.”

“Nonsense.” Ruth dismissed my praise with a wave of her hand, her grin
just as adorable as the witch.

I sighed. “I can’t believe Gilbert would write that. He just can’t let go
of what happened with the gazebo.”

“Give it here. Let me take a look.” Dolores slipped on her glasses and
snatched up the letter before I had a chance to give it to her. Head bowed and
brow furrowed, she kept her attention on the note until she read it thoroughly,
possibly four or five times. Finally, she looked over her glasses at me. “He
really does have it in for you.”

“Tell me about it,” I growled. I set my mug on the table and rubbed my
eyes with my fingers. I blinked and looked up. “Is it me, or do the powers that
be not want me to participate in this festival?”

“Shh!” Ruth lowered next to me, her eyes on the ceiling as though some
superior entity was about to strike us down. “Don’t say things like that. You
don’t know who’s listening.”

I smiled. I had to. I loved my Aunt Ruth even though she was a little on
the nutty side at times. At least she eased some of the tension.

“Can he really do that? Keep me from participating?” I didn’t think I’d
wanted to participate, but the fact that he’d singled me out like that… well,
it just made me want to be in this damn festival even more.  

Dolores let out a sigh, pulled the glasses from her nose, and held them
in her hand as she gestured. “He is the town mayor. I can’t be sure, but I do
believe he has the right.”

Ruth made a face. “He’s going to win again this year.”

“Win?”

Ruth looked at me, and her smile vanished. “The pie competition. He’s won
it every year for the last eleven years.”

I made a face. “Gilbert makes pies? I thought all he could make were
those yappy sounds that come out of his mouth every time he speaks.”

Ruth narrowed her eyes, her mouth set in a firm line. “I’m going to kick
his butt this year. Just you wait.” She rushed over to the kitchen island, her
bare feet slapping the hard floor, and pulled out a heavy orange leather-bound
book. She slammed it on the counter and began flipping through the pages.

Dolores’s eyes pinned me from across the kitchen table. “I’ll see what I
can do. It’s a long shot, but I might be able to persuade him to change his
mind.” I could still read some of the guilt from the whole Sisters of the
Circle debacle behind her dark eyes. She was still trying to make up for it,
but she really didn’t have to. I’d let it go that night. It was all in the
past.

“I can poison him if you want,” offered Hildo. The black cat was up on
the counter next to the stove that boasted pots of steaming stews and whatever
Ruth was cooking. He was always close to the food, that furry beast. His yellow
eyes were luminous and had that lazy-cat look of any lounging feline.

I smiled at him. “Uh, thanks, but I’ll handle Gilbert my own way.”
Dunking him in one of Ruth’s boiling cauldrons came to mind. Or maybe I’d use
him as target practice for my demon mojo. That sounded fun.

Ruth rubbed the top of Hildo’s head, and the cat closed his eyes and
purred loudly. “It’s okay, Hildo,” she said in that unique voice she reserved
for only tiny creatures. “Don’t you worry. I’ll find you someone you can
poison.” 

Yup. It was going to be one of those days. 

Dolores hit the table with the edge of her glasses. “I’ve always said
Gilbert was the wrong choice for mayor.”

“Was there another candidate?” I asked.

Dolores pursed her lips. “There was.”

“And?”

She looked at me and said, “He died.”

Okay then. I took a sip of my coffee. “Don’t worry about Gilbert. It’s
fine, really. Besides, I still have lots of work to do. I doubt I’ll be able to
make it on Saturday for the festival.”

“Why in the cauldron would you want to miss the festival? It’s fabulous.”
Beverly sashayed her way into the kitchen. Her slender figure was wrapped in a
pair of straight-legged jeans and a light-blue blouse, which accentuated her
tan skin and shoulder-length, blonde hair. Her kitten heels clicked on the
floor as she made her way to the coffeepot. She looked amazing and put together
as usual with her perfect makeup.

Yet, something was different about her. 

Something major.

“What in the cauldron did you do to your breasts?” cried Dolores.

That major thing.

“Mmm?” Beverly turned from the coffee machine, pressed her hands on her
hips, and stuck out her chest, her features molded in what she hoped was an
innocent look. The buttons on her blouse were about to pop, the material
stretched so thin we could see her belly button.

Though my Aunt Beverly wasn’t known for her ample bosom, she still had a
nice rack. Now? Now it looked as though she’d gotten a triple-D boob job
overnight.  

Holy crap. My Aunt Beverly was Dolly Parton. 

I wanted to laugh and say “good one,” but something in Beverly’s face
stopped me. This wasn’t a joke.

Dolores’s mouth fell open, showing all her bottom teeth. “Have you gone
completely mad? You’ll poke someone’s eyes out with those things.”

Ruth was jabbing one of Beverly’s boobs with a green spatula as though to
see if it was real, or maybe she was hoping it would pop.

“That’s some serious push-up bra,” I said.

“It’s not a push-up bra. It’s a weapon,” retorted Dolores. 

I cleared my throat. “Um… is this a new spell you’re trying?” It was hard
not to look at Beverly’s new cleavage and not laugh. They were so big, they
were overpowering the petite witch. If she wasn’t careful, she might tip over.

Beverly beamed and curled a strand of loose hair
behind her ear. “It is. It’s one of Martha’s. It’s called Boob-Booster. It
increases your breast size naturally.”

“There’s nothing natural
about them,” Dolores scoffed. “Ask for your money back.”

Beverly narrowed her eyes, her lips tight. It wasn’t often I caught a
glimpse of her angry. “Well. I think I look great.” She spun around and poured
herself a cup of coffee.

I stared at Beverly. Something didn’t fit. She wasn’t one to change her
appearance. She went on and on about how fabulous she was naturally, how the
goddess had blessed her with her perfect body. So why the change?

“You going somewhere?” I asked, not giving up.

Beverly joined us at the table and stood with her cup of coffee in her
hands. “As a matter of fact, yes. Derrick is taking me out for lunch at the
Sunset Grill in Cape Elizabeth.”

Slowly and very carefully, Beverly slipped into the chair next to
Dolores. Her new boobs kept hitting the table’s edge, so she had to pull her
chair out to be able to fit.

I’d never heard of this guy, but then again, it was hard to keep up with
all the men she dated. “He said something about your… appearance. Didn’t
he?”

Color showed on Beverly’s face. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Dolores leaned forward. “She’s right. I can see it all over your face.
Out with it. What did he say?”

Beverly whirled in her seat, her boobs smashing her coffee mug against
the sugar cup and sending cubes scattering over the table.

She scrambled to pick them up. “He might have mentioned that in a woman
my age, things are not so tight and perky anymore.” She shrugged like it was
nothing. “We all know that as we age, gravity is our enemy. We don’t bounce
back like we used to.”   

The sudden silence hammered in my ears. “And this is someone you want to
date?”

Beverly’s head spun around so fast it reminded me of the little girl in
the original Exorcist movie. 

“Of course,” she said, staring at me like I was a scuff mark on her new
leather shoes. “Why wouldn’t I? He’s gorgeous. Has a high-paying job. He’s a
real catch.”

“And ten years younger than her,” commented Dolores, tapping her nose
with her finger.

Ah-ha. Now I understood her ginormous, magically enhanced boobies. Still,
the fact that she felt she needed to do this made me feel sorry for her and
pissed at this new guy.

I sat there stunned and a little ticked off. Any man who made a comment
like that and caused my aunt to feel like she needed to change her appearance
was a prick, in my book. I didn’t have a book, per se, but you get the general
idea.

Seeing as Dolores and Ruth weren’t saying anything, I decided to drop it
for now. But I was going to look into this Derrick guy.

I stood and pushed back my chair. “Okay, well… I’ve got work to do. So
I’ll see you later.” Which was true. I had three customers waiting for their
romcom book covers. I’d stayed up late last night working on them. They were
really good, and I was proud of them. Getting my creative juices flowing would
definitely lower my blood pressure.

Although, I could think of something else that could help reduce my
stress. Something big and strong with eyes that could light me on fire just by
looking into them.

Marcus.

Marcus naked.

Marcus naked, kissing me, and rubbing his big manly hands all over me.

A grin spread over my face as I walked out of the kitchen and climbed the
stairs to the attic. I could already feel the loss of tension, though my lady
bits were thumping just at the thought of some sexy time with my wereape.

With a stupid smile on my face, I pushed open my bedroom door.

“What the—”

A woman with red hair and red eyes, who was no mere woman at all, sat in
one of my chairs.

“Hello, my little demon witch. Miss me?” said Lilith, the goddess of
hell.

Oh… crap.