A Witch's Feast (The Memento Mori Witch Trilogy Book 2)

By C.N. Crawford

"There are new principles governing the country--namely, no magic. yet Fiona Forzese hasn't ever been sturdy with rules."

As Fiona attempts to select up the items of her shattered lifestyles, she and Tobias take take care of in a classmate’s Southern mansion. The plan will be simple—finish out junior yr within the security of an previous Virginia plantation.

But Fiona can’t enable issues lie. She’s confident the plantation belongs to a sinister witch-hunting cult. Worse, Tobias is obviously hiding a depressing mystery of his personal. And if he weren’t having a look so annoyingly beautiful, possibly Fiona may perhaps specialise in her investigations lengthy sufficient to determine every thing out.

As Fiona digs deeper into the Ranulf's previous, she learns a gloomy fact that shocks her to her center. however it isn't really in basic terms the Ranulfs who've anything to conceal. because the witch-hunting cult closes in, Fiona is compelled to decide on who she quite trusts prior to she loses all people she cares approximately.

The keepsake Mori Witch Series


Book 2: A WITCH'S banquet

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Similar position I bought my swimsuit. ” “That gown isn't really from the basement. ” Her palms flew to the silky cloth at Fiona’s shoulder. “Did you employ magic to conjure this? My mom should listen approximately it. ” It took all of her self keep watch over to not throw her champagne in Munroe’s face. “You can inform your mom if you would like, yet she won’t think you. She thinks you’re an fool. and that i can’t say I disagree. ” Munroe’s nostrils flared, and an indignant blush crept up her chest. “Not now, Fiona. ” Tobias stepped shut, his voice a harsh whisper. Munroe clenched her enamel. “Yeah, Fiona. ” She appeared to imagine Tobias was once her protector. The sound of a microphone’s suggestions broke the strain, and Fiona winced, jamming her palms in her ears. They’d develop into extra delicate when you consider that she’d realized to remodel right into a bat. “If i may have everyone’s attention…” a voice boomed from the microphone. With a last glare at Fiona, Munroe tugged at her date’s arm, pulling him towards the dance ground. “My father is set to talk. ” Frowning, Fiona strolled after them, Alan within sight her aspect. He leaned into her and whispered, “Stay centred. The plan is to get Mrs. Ranulf under the influence of alcohol, to not struggle along with her daughter. ” on the finish of the backyard course, a small crowd had accrued round the dance ground. The weeping angel stood within the middle, coloured lanterns sparkling opposed to the darkish sky above him. “Welcome, every person! ” he boomed into the microphone, his toothy grin a ugly distinction to the mask’s darkish streaks. His again was once rod-straight, and he gripped a champagne glass. “I thanks concerned about coming this night. ” Fiona looped her arm via Alan’s as they reached the sting of the dance ground. They stood wedged among a golden-feathered phoenix and a purple wolf. “We are the following, after all, to have a good time. each last member of the witch military in Boston has been hunted down and slaughtered. That venture, at the least, has been complete. ” The senator’s site visitors cheered, and he lifted his glass. “But we're additionally right here to elevate funds for a necessary reason. together with your aid, the Sanguine Brotherhood will struggle to maintain the United States secure from the specter of witchcraft. There are extra evil armies coming. And with the aid of my pricey spouse Vera…” He thrust out a hand. the group became to examine Mrs. Ranulf, strolling gingerly alongside the trail in a white ball costume. Ivory angel wings arched from her again, and he or she wore a platinum Georgian-era wig, the curls piled excessive on her head, glittering with crystals. A tender, alabaster masks lined the head of her face. “With my wife’s help,” the senator endured, “I think now we have recruited a few new individuals to our reason. this night, we have fun not just the hot victory, however the sanguine reawakening! ” on the final note, a sit back rippled over Fiona’s epidermis. Reawakening? forty four Fiona Alan held out his hand to Fiona because the string quartet embarked on a well-recognized waltz—Strauss, possibly. She clasped his hand, and he guided her around the dance ground with an unforeseen grace, his hands outstretched. Her naked ft padded over the tiles.

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