All Hallows

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Tagline: Wizards and sorcerers don’t mix… until Adria meets Lynx on All Hallows


Adria Arbuckle is a wizard who lives a life of solitude away from her ward to avoid the political infighting. Lynx Latimer is a sorcerer who has to leave his sect behind and start over after a particularly nasty defeat at the hands of his former lover. Neither is looking for romance, but Lantrien Jacquard has other ideas. His curse keeps him confined to the mortal world as a jack-o-lantern, but he’s finally allowed to right some of his wrongs, beginning with ending a centuries’ old feud between the wizards and the sorcerers.


Adria Arbuckle put the finishing touches on her Halloween décor. Her favorite holiday—even if cliché—because she could freely wear her wizard robes the entire season. And she had some kick ass garb she liked to show off.

Separated from her ward, she practiced alone and the solitary pursuit saddened her. Wizards were gatherers by nature.

She put a battery-operated tea light in her newly carved pumpkin. “Maybe someday I can go back.” Right. Only if political infighting stopped, which would never happen in her lifetime.

Too many wizards with archaic viewpoints prevented any kind of forward progress. Who cared about a centuries’ old feud when numbers grew smaller with each passing year?

Adria couldn’t abide the hardline approach her ward took regarding other supernatural practitioners and never mingling together. Witches, warlocks, sorcerers should all share their gifts. And they should welcome friendly exchanges with the shifters, hunters, and other gifted races.

Adria snorted. “But, oh no, that’s just not possible. The others aren’t worthy. They’ll steal our knowledge and use it against us.” She mimicked the standard line of bull she’d grown up hearing. “Totally stupid, if you ask me. A person can’t steal something that’s freely given.” She rolled her eyes and went back inside her cute little cottage.

She crossed the small foyer and grabbed another box from the closet tucked under the stairs leading to the second floor. Peeking inside, she grinned and wiggled her finger, directing her magic, and watched the primitive scarecrows dance up and out of the container, shuffling their straw legs in a fun little jig. Laughing, she placed the box on the built-in bench and snagged the holiday creatures and set them on the table in her living room. Digging her wand out of her sleeve, she guided the decorative men in a straight line on the smooth, oak surface then swirled the pencil-sized ash stick so they dropped in a jaunty heap.

Stepping back, she nodded. “Perfect.” Tucking the wand back in her sleeve, she walked into the kitchen to brew a pot of tea.