☆ Companion Books for the Web Series ☆
These companion novelette ebooks are available for purchase the day each webisode is first uploaded.
Dive into the world of the Lovely Witches Club web series with the LWC books by award-winning author (and Lovely Witches Club Co-Founder) Patti Larsen.
#1 Zombie Bimbo Witch
“You could go down with me, all three of you. Instead of holding your places as coven leaders.” Agnes stared into the swirling cauldron surface. “I should make you all go home.”
“We’re doomed without change,” Rosary said while tall Piper nodded and the normally bubbly Vine hugged herself. “Our Island will not survive much longer. And Constance refuses to do anything to save us that isn’t tradition.” Snorts all around. “We didn’t come here lightly, or to abandon you now. Act or let us leave this ancient place where once our real leader stood proud”…
#2 Lovely Witches
“Okay,” I said, checking the feed on the camera next to me. “This doc is about witches, right? On the Island?”
Vine nodded with her typical vibrating energy, red side buns bouncing as her green eyes glowed with over eager attention. “Right!” Like she was rewarding a dog for good behavior. I swear if she’d been sitting next to me she’d have patted my head or something.
Seriously. Insert awkward pause while I waited for her to get the hint that was so far over her head she might as well have been on another planet. And likely was from another planet, come to think of it…
#3 Pagan Poser
“Reese McDonald.” I looked up, doing my best not to spit my beer all over this intruder’s garishly made up face surrounded by gigantic black curls tied back in a bright red scarf hanging over her heavily bangled ears, neck, and wrists, brightly painted fingernails, flowing long skirt and, might I say, witchy blouse, as she spoke again. “I know why you’re here.”
That made one of us.
“I understand how you might fall for the half-truths and misleadings of the frauds who call themselves the Lovely Witches Club.” Now that was a laugh and a half. They were frauds? Okay, sure, I had been thinking that, but had she looked in the mirror lately? Like, when she left the house today? …
#4 Protective Much?
The mason jar was about three quarters full, a sixteen ounce pint of fume laden, home grown goodness.
I took a swig, pretty sure I knew what was in the bottle. Choked on the vile stuff, gagged a little, swallowed anyway, but kept it in my hot little hand. “That is disgusting.”
Their hooting and hollering told me I had just been initiated into some kind of moonshine goddess witchy spellcasting clique and I was okay with that. For tonight at least.
#5 Rate My Beach
Rival from Hell
“Reese! I was hoping I’d see you here.” Missy’s smile was anything but happy. Unless happiness had a smirking and nasty edge to it with a full on dose of disdainful superiority. Oh wait, I was talking about Missy. This was her happy. “Larry says hi, by the way.”
“What the hell are you doing here, Missy?” Maybe I should have tried to muster some kind of clever come back or slick response to hide the truth. That I hated her and Larry and my entire life so much right now I could scream. Instead, I did the best I could not to crumble into a pathetic ball of weeping childlike regret and let bitter resentment win.
I just wasn’t in the mood to be the bigger person.
#6 Lilith’s Curse
There’s so little time. But she must persevere. She glances to a portrait of her grandmother. Like all the women in her family, Lilith shares Mary’s face. If she’s successful, hers won’t be the last to bear the MacDonald features. “I’m so sorry, grandmother.” Her voice cracks, pain making it hard to speak. “This is all my fault. I should have known better than to trust anyone with our family’s power.” She coughs softly, whimpering as the agony of doing so tears at her already bleeding insides. “And now our line will pay the price. Because of my blind need to trust in someone I never should have granted such faith.”
#7 No Such Thing
The TRUTH Hurts
I panted into the darkness, weeping openly, heart torn out of my chest and tossed to the pavement outside the window. At least, that was how it felt. As I hemorrhaged grief and guilt and the uncontrollable need to escape this place into the stuffy claustrophobic interior of my traitor car. —witches aren’t real— —there’s no such thing as magic— This couldn’t be happening to me.