Meet Tansy Shackleton.
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Scare Thee Well
Laurel Haven Witches Book 2
by ReGina Welling
Genre: Paranormal Women’s Fiction
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Three hundred
years ago, one witch had to live with her mistakes. Today, another might have
to die for them.
Tansy Shackleton has spent her entire life carrying the
guilt of her family’s legacy. If not for her ancestor’s mistake, good witches
might not be trapped in the coastal town of Laurel Haven, Maine. But no matter
how hard she tries to make amends, she can’t stop seeing the stain on her soul.
Not even at the cost of her marriage.
Connor Shackleton has tried everything he can think of to
get his wife to see that she’s not to blame for the unwitting actions of a
long-dead witch. At his wit’s end and unable to watch Tansy work herself into
the ground for something that wasn’t even her fault, he proposes they take a
break for a few days, just to get some perspective.
He should have known Tansy would martyr both their happiness
on the alter of guilt, but he didn’t. He wanted her back almost from the minute
he walked away, but she’s shut him out of her life as firmly as the door she
closed behind him.
The problem is, life and death in Laurel Haven go hand in
hand for witches of the blood, and just like Tansy, Connor’s one of them. The
only way to move forward is to turn and face the past head-on. Together with
her new coven, Tansy will have to put all of Laurel Haven’s ghosts to rest or
die trying.
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“More wine?” As it always had, the sound of Connor’s voice tickled a path from her ears to her center with a detour through her heart. She knew that voice in every shade it came in—quietly amused, achingly tender, ragged with need—and right now it hit notes all three.
Given the state of their marriage, she should have thanked him and turned away.
She didn’t.
He held the bottle out with that easy, lopsided smile that had once made her say yes to forever without hesitation. And maybe it was the firelight or the wine or the way his hair had gone all unruly from salt air and sweat, but he looked so damn good it made her breath catch in her throat.
“Are you trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?”
“Me? Never. I’m not that kind of guy. Is that glitter in your hair?”
Leave it to him to notice. Even in the writhing shadows cast by the flickering bonfire, the man paid attention—to everything. To her. Always to her.
“Probably. I had a shift at Haven’s Rest. You can’t say you’ve really lived until you’ve witnessed a pole dancing class for seniors.”
His brow lifted and his smile deepened until it made her stomach tighten. She wasn’t imagining the warmth in his eyes. It was there—open and unguarded, like he hadn’t spent the last year trying to understand what had gone wrong between them.
“Hence the glitter?”
“Hence,” she said, nodding. “The things I’ve seen—I can’t even tell you, but I’m sure I’m scarred for life.”
“Worse than facing the Shadespawn?” Rue asked from her seat on the other side of the dwindling fire.
“Possibly. Seraphina Morgan stripped down to a thong.” Tansy took a slow sip of wine, then added, “And not just any thong. Sequined. Purple. With fringe.” She shuddered for effect. “There was choreography. And a chair involved, and I swear to every goddess that ever existed, no one who saw the performance will ever be the same.”
Poppy choked on her drink. Rue suggested a brain bleaching spell.
“Whose idea was that?” Bella wanted to know.
“No idea, but I’m telling you,” Tansy went on, “that woman hit a split that defied both her age and several laws of physics. I’m not sure if I’m horrified or deeply impressed.”
Connor snorted, clinking his cup gently against hers before taking a sip. His gaze didn’t leave her face. She felt it on her skin like a caress, soft and careful but full of memory. The glint of amusement there unraveled something small but stubborn inside her.
She remembered exactly what it would feel like to slide her tongue into that adorable dimple in his chin. It had been nearly a year since she’d let herself get close enough to her husband to want him this badly. The separation hadn’t been easy on her or him, but it had done nothing to dim the fire between them. If anything, it had made her more aware of how badly she missed what they’d had—before it all fell apart.
What are you thinking? The voice in her head was not fully hers, and it wasn’t particularly pleasant. You let him back in, you’ll hurt him again.
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Rue the Slay
Laurel Haven Witches Book 1
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Three hundred
years ago, four witches went into the forest to cast a spell of protection
against the evil creeping into their town but they were too late.
Today, Rue Channing never sees it
coming, and she should because seeing is her special power. Still, who would
have expected to be kidnapped and hauled off to a small coastal town in Maine?
But that is exactly what happened. Now, Rue, a lover of order and strict
routines, is dragged out of her comfort zone and into a new life in the small,
coastal town of Laurel Haven.
Things could not be worse, she thinks, until she meets the man next door and
decides they could. Ry McFadden is the most infuriating man on the planet. He’s
a study in contrasts; grumpy yet generous, intensely private, but somehow open.
Rue can’t think what to do with him, except she can, and that just makes things
worse.
The problem is, Ry McFadden just might be part of Rue’s destiny as she learns
she’s been brought to Laurel Haven to finish what her ancestors started.
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“Excuse me. I don’t think that area’s for paying customers.”
The man’s voice sounded like Alan Rickman and Benedict Cumberbatch had a baby but without the British accent. He could read me a bedtime story, Rue thought as the deep tones shivered across the air.
“No worries. I’m not planning to pay for anything.”
“Get back here,” he called out when she took another step.
Dismissing that, Rue waggled her fingers over one shoulder but kept going and caught Tansy pulling another sheet of cookies out of a professional oven that Rue knew damn well she couldn’t afford. How much debt had Tansy racked up in a single morning?
Still, the scents of sugar and butter set Rue’s stomach grumbling. “You’re hired if you want the job. I have no idea how to run a bookstore, but if you stay on, I guess we’ll figure it out between us, so I’d like to make it official. Providing we don’t go out of business in a week because I can’t afford the stock or that stove. Or the ingredients in those cookies come to that.”
Grinning—did the woman ever not smile?—Tansy did a little two-step, bobbled the cookie sheet, then set it on the stainless worktable. “Not to worry. We’ll talk about the finances later.” With practiced speed, she transferred warm cookies to a lined display tray. “I have a customer waiting for these.” Picking up the tray, Tansy headed out, leaving Rue to follow.
“You mean Mr. Grumpy?” She kept her voice low since Tansy was nearly out of hearing distance anyway. The woman moved like lightning.
“They’re still warm,” Tansy was saying when Rue came up behind her. “You came in at just the right time.”
Mr. Grumpy turned a million-watt smile on her and accepted the cookie Tansy offered, but his expression hardened when he turned toward Rue. “I’m not sure how they do things where you’re from, but in Laurel Haven, customers know enough to stay on this side of the counter.”
“Oh, but—“
Rue cut Tansy off. “I’m glad to hear it, but I believe I’ve already mentioned I’m not a customer. My name is Rue, and this is my shop, so if it’s okay with you, I’ll go anywhere I please.”
“You’re one of…them.” He nodded toward Tansy. “That explains some things.” His hazel eyes searched her face as if looking for validation of something she didn’t quite understand. He offered his hand when she came out from behind the pastry case. Steeling herself for what she might see, Rue took it. It wouldn’t bode well for her business if she ran off potential customers. Even ones like him.
The vision of him armed with a sword, his eyes blazing black, and riding a dark horse through misty woods slid across Rue’s mind, bringing with it a bone-deep sense of recognition. Here was the figure that had haunted her most romantic dreams come to life.
“I suppose I am,” she said.
“Then, I guess I’m your new neighbor. I live upstairs.”
“You have more than that in common.” After popping two cookies in a bag, Tansy joined them.
“I can’t imagine what,” Rue muttered. This man was clearly an outlaw of some sort. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have seen what she’d seen. He certainly looked the part with dark hair falling recklessly over his furrowed brow, eyes narrowed, and lips that might have been kissable if they weren’t set in a stern line. Even annoyed, Rue had to admit, he packed a hell of a punch.
He wasn’t Rue’s type at all. Not one little bit.
Grinning, Tansy made the introductions by pointing and naming them in turn. “Ry. Rue.”
Okay, now Rue understood. They lived in the same building and had names that sounded sort of similar. As far as common ground went, she figured theirs was roughly the size of a postage stamp. The man put her hackles up even when he wasn’t talking.
“Ry?” she said, unable to help herself. “What’s that short for? Wait, let me guess. It’s Ryder, right?” A wicked smile tugged at her lips. “Ryder…Storm. That’s it, isn’t it? Or maybe it’s Ryder Strong. Either one sounds like the perfect name for an urban cowboy with a hero complex.”
Where had that come from? Rue considered herself a circumspect woman, but everything about this day brought out the worst side of her tongue.
“The name’s McFadden, ma’am,” he drawled and tucked his thumbs into his belt. “Ryland McFadden at your service, but you can go ahead and call me Ryder if it helps you feel better.” He cocked his head to the side. “What’s Rue short for? Wait. Let me guess. It’s Rudella, isn’t it? Like Cinderella, only meaner.”
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ReGina Welling prefers not to talk about herself in the
third person so…
I live in Maine with my husband, a silly flufferpup named
Dash, and a crazy cat named Cricket. I write full time and also create mixed
media artwork when I get the chance.
When I was three, my mom brought home a new book and when
she went to read it to me, I read it to her instead. That was when she realized
I’d learned to read. Since then I couldn’t even estimate the number of books
I’ve read. It’s a lot!
I love talking to other readers so please visit me in any
one of these various places and don’t forget to let me know you stopped by!
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