I’m an international, multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in my head. As a singer, songwriter, independent filmmaker and improv teacher and performer, my life has always been about creating and sharing what I create with others. Now that my dream to write for a living is a reality, with over a hundred titles in happy publication and no end in sight, I live in beautiful Prince Edward Island, Canada, with my giant cats, pug overlord and overlady and my Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn.

PLEASE NOTE: SASSAFRAS contains spoilers for the HAYLE COVEN NOVELS. Do not read before #7, FLESH AND BLOOD.


Banished

Power engulfed me, a strong hand stroking my fur as Ahbi's mind met mine. I wish you well, Sassafras, she sent. Do come to visit someday.

No time to respond, not while her magic lifted me, sent me forward, toward the gap in the veil, through it—

My new body fell, landed hard on cold, wet gravel, the light from the veil shining one more moment. It snapped shut behind me, leaving me alone in the cold dark.

When the demon boy Sassafras breaks Demonicon’s oldest law and strips the power of another, he is sentenced to death. Only his influential father’s pleading commutes Sass’s sentence to banishment. Forced into the body of a silver Persian, his power taken from him, he is dumped in the dark streets of Victorian London and left to die. Rescued by a young witch and integrated into her family, Sassafras finds purpose at last, guiding and loving the Hayle family, sharing his heart with the remarkable coven he claims as his own.

Hayle Coven Universe: Sassafras

The newest member of the Hayle clan had an ice-green stare, hair as black as a raven feather and skin so pale she seemed to glow. Absolutely stunning as an infant, she was an instant hit with the family, seeming to understand as though by instinct what they looked for from her and giving it to them.


But I was the only one who saw her inside was no match for the gorgeous little girl she grew into. Her soul was as dark as her hair, flickers of her true nature showing through with only the most careful of observations. There were times in those first two years of Mahalia's growth I tried to convince myself I was wrong, that I judged her too harshly. But the morning I found her two-year-old self carefully drowning one of the barn kittens in the glass of milk she'd offered it as a lure, eyes narrowed as she focused, I knew I was right.


Chapter 22: Mahalia