Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Smoke and Magic
    Smoke and Magic
    Smoke and Magic
    Ebook198 pages3 hours

    Smoke and Magic

    By Patti Larsen

    4/5

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    She was sent away for her own protection. Too bad trouble followed her anyway...

    Auburdeen Hayle is the sixteen-year-old daughter of the next leader of her coven. When the transition of power becomes tense, Burdie is sent from her home in America to stay with old friends in London to keep her safe. But a handsome young man chooses to hide from the police in her hansom, drawing Burdie into an underground world of magic that challenges even her sense of adventure and puts her at odds with the very people who are meant to protect her.
    Don't miss the rest of this magical steampunk series, available now!

    Smoke and Magic
    Fire and Illusion
    Steam and Sorcery

    Auburdeen's adventures are only the beginning of the Hayle Coven Universe!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPatti Larsen
    Release dateFeb 9, 2012
    ISBN9780987897657
    Smoke and Magic
    Author

    Patti Larsen

    About me, huh? Well, my official bio reads like this: Patti Larsen is a multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in her head. But that sounds so freaking formal, doesn’t it? I’m a storyteller who hears character's demands so loudly I have to write them down. I love the idea of sports even though sports hate me. I’ve dabbled in everything from improv theater to film making and writing TV shows, singing in an all girl band to running my own hair salon.But always, always, writing books calls me home.I’ve had my sights set on world literary domination for a while now. Which means getting my books out there, to you, my darling readers. It’s the coolest thing ever, this job of mine, being able to tell stories I love, only to see them all shiny and happy in your hands... thank you for reading.As for the rest of it, I’m short (permanent), slightly round (changeable) and blonde (for ever and ever). I love to talk one on one about the deepest topics and can’t seem to stop seeing the big picture. I happily live on Prince Edward Island, Canada, home to Anne of Green Gables and the most beautiful red beaches in the world, with my pug overlord and overlady, six lazy cats and Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn.

    Read more from Patti Larsen

    Related to Smoke and Magic

    Titles in the series (3)

    View More
    View More

    Related ebooks

    YA Action & Adventure For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Coming Soon...

      Dec 15, 2020

      David Tennant stars as Phileas Fogg in this new adaptation of Jules Verne’s novel. Phileas is joined on his voyage by sidekick Passepartout (Ibrahim Koma) and journalist Abigail Fix (Leonie Benesch).  The cookery show returned earlier this year afte

      1 min read

    • Article

      Clandestine

      Jan 10, 2022

      It was 1980 and I was nineteen, barely into what my mother quaintly referred to as the Prime of My Life. From what I’d learned up to that questionable apogee, there will never be enough time before bony-fingered Decrepitude sinks her yellowed nails i

      12 min read

    • Article

      Tom Cunliffe

      May 3, 2024

      Tom Cunliffe
      5 min read

    • Article

      Tom Cunliffe

      May 3, 2024

      Tom Cunliffe
      5 min read

    • Article

      The Sound Of Bongo

      Oct 2, 2019

      The Sound Of Bongo
      4 min read

    • Article

      Mrs Macarthur’s Secret Diary

      Jun 17, 2020

      Mrs Macarthur’s Secret Diary
      7 min read

    • Article

      The Island

      Jun 4, 2018

      The Island
      8 min read

    • Article

      Mrs Macarthur’s Secret Diary

      Jun 17, 2020

      Mrs Macarthur’s Secret Diary
      7 min read

    • Article

      Two Poems by Phillip B. Williams

      Dec 15, 2017

      The masters are yet dead. Wanting to be human,I tried to rewrite The Waste Land. The canon’s reachcasts ruinous light. The masters’ pens breachthis page where, above, my own hand spectates. Babylonrisen, exorcism in reverse, whose nature upended now?

      6 min read

    • Article

      Ghost Girl, Banana

      Aug 21, 2023

      By the time I was 25, there were only two things I remembered about Mumma. The first was that she smelled of watermelons, the second was that we were happy. We’d taken our father’s name of course, but a name is only half a story. The other half exist

      6 min read

    • Article

      The Leather Coat

      Apr 4, 2024

      The Leather Coat
      6 min read

    • Article

      Five Poems

      May 1, 2019

      “My arm is so brown and so beautiful,” is a thought I haveas I’m about to turn off the lamp and go to sleep.I look at it a moment in the soft glow, and see it, briefly,as though it belonged to someone else. A reddishkind of brown, like a toasted almo

      7 min read

    • Article

      Katharine Kilalea

      Jun 15, 2018

      Katharine Kilalea
      51 min read

    • Article

      Life In The past Lane

      Aug 27, 2021

      Life In The past Lane
      5 min read

    • Article

      Roundtrip For One

      Nov 1, 2019

      Roundtrip For One
      5 min read

    • Article

      The Last Friend on Earth

      May 4, 2023

      It was as if Doreen Saunders had been waiting for me, passing the time until my arrival. She might as well have been sitting in a rocking chair, knitting needles clicking, jam tarts cooling on the side, the door wide open, waiting for the next visito

      6 min read

    • Article

      Flour

      Mar 15, 2018

      The driver and I got a late start. I usually decide on these excursions the night before, but it was late in the morning when I informed the friend who was coming to visit me for the weekend that I had to cancel, it was absolutely necessary for me to

      7 min read

    • Article

      Queen Of Salt

      Feb 6, 2020

      Queen Of Salt
      10 min read

    • Article

      The Periodic Stranger: When exile becomes home.

      Dec 12, 2013

      My roots are in a hilltop village west of Matera, where rabbit and boar run riot in the fields. Figs, apricots, and pears hang in heavy clusters, at eye-level and within easy reach. There, the local girls are famous for their calves, made firm and st

      21 min read

    • Article

      The Periodic Stranger

      Mar 2, 2017

      My roots are in a hilltop village west of Matera, where rabbit and boar run riot in the fields. Figs, apricots, and pears hang in heavy clusters, at eye-level and within easy reach. There, the local girls are famous for their calves, made firm and st

      21 min read

    • Article

      Four Poems

      Mar 1, 2024

      I was trying to look a little less like myselfand more like other humans, humans who belonged, so I put on a skort.Purchased in another life, when I had a husband and wrote thank-you notes and held dinner parties,the skort even had its own little poc

      6 min read

    • Article

      My Lucky Safari In Tanzania

      Jun 1, 2017

      My Lucky Safari In Tanzania
      11 min read

    • Article

      Dark Tales

      Dec 2, 2021

      Dark Tales
      6 min read

    • Article

      Cross My Heart

      Sep 1, 2022

      Cross My Heart
      6 min read

    • Article

      A Close Encounter With A Lion

      May 25, 2023

      My Dear Baker Mrs Oswell and myself thoroughly enjoyed our stay with you and your charming wife in June. It was a true pleasure for us both to renew old times and friendship. We trust that your trip to India will be a pleasant one, and the ship you a

      6 min read

    • Article

      Tomorrows

      Mar 15, 2022

      The night, as most nights, was like a dream. At ten, once I’d fed the dog the last scraps off the stove. Once I’d cursed the cat for scratching up my mama’s antique furniture, then welcomed him back into my arms. Once I’d slicked my hair into a ponyt

      26 min read

    • Article

      A Little Love

      Apr 5, 2023

      A Little Love
      7 min read

    • Article

      The Eternal Adventure

      Jun 29, 2021

      The Eternal Adventure
      4 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for Smoke and Magic

    4/5

    1 rating0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      Smoke and Magic - Patti Larsen

      Smoke and Magic

      Blood and Gold: Book One

      Patti Larsen

      Smashwords Edition

      Copyright 2012 by Patti Larsen

      Find out more about Patti Larsen at

      http://www.pattilarsen.com/

      ***

      Original Photography by Brian Sharp. All rights reserved.

      Model Shania MacPhail

      Cover art (copyright) by Stephanie Mooney. All rights reserved.

      http://www.stephaniemooney.blogspot.com/

      Edited by Annetta Ribken, freelance Goddess. You can find her at http://www.wordwebbing.com/

      ***

      Smashwords Edition License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      ***

      Chapter One

      I leaned over the railing of the steam powered vessel for my first look at London, even as the sun set behind me, casting the towering buildings and arching bridge in shades of orange and red. My sturdy travel case stood by my feet, my silver Persian in his wicker carrier. I could hear him snarling and grumbling to himself and suppressed a grin, knowing he would make me pay for stuffing him into his prison as soon as we arrived at our destination.

      But that was for later. Right now I focused on the deepening shadows filling in the cobbled streets and stretching long shadows down the rippling waters of the Thames. Smaller vessels bobbed past us, looking worn and miniscule in comparison. I drew a breath, so accustomed to the piercing clarity of sea air by now, I came close to gagging over the side as the taint of rot rising from the river assaulted my nostrils.

      But even the rising stink of dead fish and worse did little to dampen my enthusiasm. It was the first time in my four-week trip across the Atlantic that I had something new and exciting to focus on and I wasn't about to miss a moment of it.

      Miss Burdie? Mr. O'Brien, my over eager porter, smiled his easy smile, the one I'm sure he thought made him irresistible. I'd found it easy enough to resist him, thank you. A shame about the view. We're almost twelve hours early, makes for a dark entry into the harbor.

      Does that happen often? I did my best to be polite despite my discomfort. His eyes wandered downward and I knew he wasn't examining the buttons on my new black velvet shortcoat. I gritted my teeth and thought of my mother. She would be very disappointed in me if I turned him into something I could squash with my heel.

      Being a witch had its benefits, but not when it came to punishing normals for nasty behavior.

      Not often, he continued our conversation, heavy Irish accent making him difficult to understand. You'll not have a chance to see the city like this again, more's the pity.

      I didn't bother to tell him I'd be leaving the way I came and would have ample opportunity. My temper was known to get the better of me more often than I'd like and this boy was only making things worse.

      Choosing to ignore him and his apparent desire for more conversation, I stepped away from the rail, the odor finally getting to me. How could my mood alter so quickly? I was suddenly feeling as sour as the air. The Thames stank like a cesspool and I began to wonder how Londoners could stand it.

      Not that my native New York was perfect, by any means. But I didn’t recall our harbor smelling like this. My feelings of charity toward the old world and my trip here slid back into the gloom plaguing me the entire voyage—that I had been, in effect, shipped off to jolly old England when I should, in fact, have been home helping my parents with the transition of our coven.

      Our present leader's power was waning and quickly, the coven suffering from her lack of ability and her increasing dementia. And while my mother, Thaddea, was certain the takeover of power would transition smoothly from one family to the next, she wasn't willing to offer anyone an opportunity to end our family’s control after only one generation. The moment the coven elected her as successor, she set in motion her plan to promptly remove me from harm's way.

      I stomped my way across the deck toward the gangway as the ship eased into dock, my thoughts as dark as the evening sky. I understood why Mum and Da sent me away. As the only female Hayle, I was next in line after my mother. And while they hoped the acquisition of the family power from the Tremere's would go smoothly, Mum wasn't taking any chances.

      It just wasn't fair. My brothers, Damon and Pharo, had been permitted to remain behind. Not for the first time, I railed at the fact I was a girl, and the youngest at sixteen. Da always indulged me, at least according to Mum and the coven, but I agreed with him and often argued the point with my mother. Coven leaders must be strong and fearless, capable of controlling the kind of power that came with such a great responsibility.

      And since I knew Gramps had taught her to ride a horse in trousers, Mum had very little she could say in the matter.

      I was the first in line to disembark. My feet itched to set foot on soil again, to still the constant roll permeating everything about sea travel. I conveniently forgot the two days I'd spent during heavy seas disgorging the contents of my unhappy innards into the lavatory. I was sure it happened to everyone.

      I strode down the ramp, bag in one hand, cat in the other, eyes roving the dock for my greeting party. As I set foot on the glorious ground, I felt my whole world shift sideways and had to catch myself from falling. If the roll of the ship was bad, this sudden heaving was worse, as though the very earth shook beneath me.

      Allow me. A hand met my elbow and O'Brien was there, holding me steady. I glanced up, knowing my shock showed on my face and hating the weakness behind it, especially in his eyes. But he made no effort to take advantage and simply smiled, dark hair falling over even darker eyes. Rather disconcerting, isn't it?

      I merely nodded, feeling the sway of the ground lessen as a few moments passed. Whatever is it?

      Merely your body adjusting to the stillness of land again, he said, letting me go slowly to assure I was still upright and not about to collapse on him out of the blue. How hideously embarrassing. And, for the moment, I feared I'd misjudged him. You'll adjust again, soon enough, I wager.

      Already feeling better, the vague, nauseated feeling I remembered from my two days of sickness lingering with unhappy clarity, I reclaimed my balance on my own and offered my hand.

      My thanks, I said. For all the courtesies you showed me on board. I swallowed my pride and tried a smile. I know I wasn't the most genial of passengers.

      Not at all, Miss Burdie. It was surely a pleasure. He really was much kinder than I'd given him credit for and my good feelings toward him grew. And then he went and ruined it all again by looking at my chest. Anger surged within me. I was no object to be admired, but a power to be feared. When he asked, May I escort you? my first reaction was cold arrogance.

      Thank you, but I have an escort.

      His eyes flew wide, cheeks red under the lamplight. My apologies for being so forward. He retreated with a bow and I instantly regretted my anger. Have a safe and pleasant visit to London.

      As O'Brien retreated back up the gangway, my anger went with him. I sighed at my own foolishness. I could at least have made sure he secured my baggage for me while I waited for my escort to arrive. My eyes scanned the hansoms lined up near the dock, searching for some indication that one of them was for me.

      Then, like a ton of bricks falling from the sky, it hit me. What had O'Brien said? We were half a day early. Which meant no one even knew I was in London yet.

      I could have used O'Brien's offer of escort after all.

      Not to be undone by a simple matter of time, I shuffled myself off to one side out of the jolting pile of people and dug into my bag. Fortunately, I retained my mother's correspondence with my hosts here. Neatly printed on the crisp envelope was the address I needed.

      I marched purposely to a hansom and nodded to the black-clad driver. Have you been hired, good sir?

      He immediately took my bag, smiling and bowing, teeth yellow from an excess of tobacco, breath vile but face kind. My pleasure to drive you, lady, he said. My bag quickly found the top of the carriage as I handed him my baggage claim. The door closed beside me. I settled into the cracked leather seat, my blanket over my knees, wicker cat basket on the opposite bench.

      Within moments the hansom rocked, once then twice. My driver's face appeared at the window, the soft harbor breeze carrying both the scent of his smoke laden breath and the stench of the quayside into the carriage, enough to make me momentarily dizzy.

      I quickly told him the address in question and, to my great relief, he disappeared from my window and mounted the front of the hansom, clucking to his horses and we were away.

      Perhaps it was merely paranoia, from being in a new place all alone, but I was certain for a moment a figure in a hooded black cloak watched me from beneath the glow of a gas lit lamp post, head turning as we drove by. Surely it was my overactive imagination and my need for some small comfort, so far from home.

      I shrugged it off, certain I was mistaken. And it wasn’t as if I were in any sort of danger. Instead, I gave one last look back toward the ship that brought me to London, wishing suddenly I could simply buy passage back to New York and my family. The jab of homesickness was unexpected and made tears rise in my eyes. I firmly grasped my welling emotions. It would not do for the daughter of Thaddea Hayle to show such pathetic sorrow in the face of an adventure.

      I turned around and squared myself for the journey ahead, a ride that had nothing to do with the hansom.

      ***

      Chapter Two

      The moment we were alone, Sassafras started his usual complaints.

      You could at least hold me in your lap so I could look out the window. But no, you don't think of things that help others, do you, Auburdeen? You are the most selfish witch I've ever had the misfortune to be stuck with.

      Even though I hated it when he used my full first name, I still snickered at my silver Persian and leaned forward to tap the edge of his cage with one hand. You were the one who backed Mum on this particular adventure, I seem to recall. No complaining allowed, cat.

      Amber eyes glowed briefly as the demon soul within him showed his anger. Not fair, he grumbled.

      I reached through the slats and gave his left cheek a good rub. Life's not, is it, Sass? I sighed, feeling very much at that moment that he was, indeed, correct. In a fair world, I would still be in New York at my mother's side, standing up against the Tremere's, assisting in the coven takeover. But no use dwelling further.

      We simply have to make the best of this, I said. Both of us. I glanced out the window at the shining electric lights. We are in London, after all. Surely there's something to do here that won't bore us to tears.

      "Bore you, you mean, he shot back, pink tongue just visible in the passing light as he reflexively groomed one spotless paw. I fully intend to take advantage of this little vacation and catch up on my rest."

      You already sleep most of the day, I laughed at him, tapping his cage again and winning a hiss of displeasure. How much more rest do you need?

      I'll have you know, he sniffed with clear indignation, I've been assisting your mother with the power fluctuations Olive has been allowing through the family magic.

      I knew it wasn't greed driving Mum toward leadership of the coven. In fact, she tried to step aside for another to take control, but no one would listen to her. And Sass was right—as amazing as our power was, it was equally as dangerous to have a declining witch at the reins of so much energy, especially when she lost control of said energy on a regular basis, forcing the rest of us to cover her tracks.

      I just wish I was there to help. A sudden surge of protective anxiety rose inside me, forcing my hands to clench in my lap to keep them from shaking.

      I know, Sass said in his soft, velvet voice. So do I. But your safety is the most important thing right now. Thaddea has all the support she needs and I know Marcus won't allow anything to happen to your mother. Da was quite the knight in shining armor when Mum was at any kind of risk. This was the best choice.

      Not that they had given me a choice. But I stayed quiet. This conversation had happened far too many times in the transatlantic voyage, in a variety of emotional forms, for me to desire to cover it once more.

      At least I had Sass with me to not only keep me company and, in his mind, protect me, but also as a magic connection between my family and myself. While I was perfectly capable of contacting them, the amount of power required to handle that much air magic was daunting and would leave me exhausted after only a short transfer. Sassafras's demon origin allowed him access to different levels of power and an alternate way to communicate he always refused in his obtuse and arrogant way to explain.

      My mind couldn't help but go to my family, my mother and her long red hair, the source of my own thick auburn locks, Da, tall and broad, so handsome some of my dearest girlfriends blushed when he walked in the room. It didn't help my two brothers shared his good looks. I adored them and they me, though Damon, Pharo and I

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1