When Witches Sing is out!

“Could you show me some magick?”

Oh,” I whisper, then nod quickly. “Yeah, okay.”

I clear my throat and stand, then sit back down, because I don’t want to stand over him. He’s already so much shorter than me, I feel like a giant just sitting next to him. He tentatively presses a hand to my arm, lips parting, and I startle. He pulls back, not taking his eyes off me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you nervous.”


“Oh, I’m not. Nervous, that is.”


Felix chuckles. “Okay. Well, you don’t have to make yourself smaller, for me.”


“Oh,” I say, then stand and straighten to my full height before him. The leaves and petals in my hair and along my skin stand to attention, and I blush at the image of preening like a fucking peacock.


“Wow,” Felix says, staring up at me with wide eyes. “You’re really tall.”


I almost lean down, but he takes my hand. This time, he doesn’t let go. “No, don’t.” Felix stands beside me, my hand in his. I stare down at our entangled fingers, then back to his face. His neck is craned and it looks painful, but the determination in his eyes is almost frightening.


I squeeze his hand, then let go. I put my hands up, smiling wide. “Okay, have it your way, tchotchke.”


Oh, how he smiles at that. He pretends to be affronted, but that smile. It’s perpetual, blinding. “I am not a small thing.”


I shrug, turning away from him. I bring my hands to chest level and smile upon coming up with an idea. I close my eyes and murmur, “Abracadabra.”


Have fun with swamp witches, chaos witches, root witches and musical witches. Just, all of the witchery and tomfoolery there ever could be. Happy Yuletide friends.

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Put your talons up.

Welcome to Thitwhistle’s, a place where you can let your tail down and stretch your wings out. There’s Monster Hot Cocoa and sugar bombed pastries for the were-pups, we don’t mind fangs or claws.

There’s been a rumor that a well to do, mysterious investor just bought out the place and isn’t changing a thing. Except doubling what they bake, in order to account for their voracious appetite.

Why don’t you put your talons up and stay awhile? The Witches don’t bite.

Much.

Excerpt from Phantom and Rook.

We enter the open and spacious cafe section. The barista counters and refrigerated display cases are centered on a raised, half moon plaza that dominates the head of the cafe.

The once white tiles of the dias are painted cobalt and spattered with star dust clouded constellations. Vibrant colors of the night flow beneath our feet, extending into a river that swirls around the raised area and spreads out to blanket the rest of the wood floor in starry clouds.

The lapis astronomy theme accented by gold continues throughout the shop, much different from the earthy tones Mrs. Thitwhistle used, but I think it’s a rather nice touch. The lofty ceiling of the entire place is filled with golden galaxies and meteors, milky ways and dying planets. More paint detailing shows up in random places, the artist’s touch reaches every subtle inch of the room.

Lines of planets along the edge of a table, shooting stars over top of a curving window frame, explosive golden bursts of light that make my heart ache.

Curtains drape alongside each of the unique round windows facing the street, which are quite a few. The heavy, royal blue fabrics are embroidered in simple gold along the edges and match the upholstered lounge chairs and couches nestled by the fireplaces. Dual hearths rest on the east and west sides of the room, accompanied by chess boards, small tables, and the furniture which the college kids are currently taking advantage of.

Enormous groups congregate around both roaring fires, laughter rolls through the gossip and small talk thickens the warm atmosphere. Thitwhistle’s feels like someone’s grand study open to the public rather than a bookstore, complete with coffee beans and scones, and I’ve never felt more at home. The crowd is equal parts magickal beings and humans, young, old and everything in between.

There are a few older folks tucked into a corner, eyes crinkling and steam curling around mugs which hide their smiles. A set of half-shifted werewolf pups tug on their mother’s sleeve, begging for the ‘Monster Hot Cocoa’ complete with candy and whip cream on top. She rolls her eyes with a smile, in humanoid form, then orders three of the drinks and half a dozen donuts for the bus ride to Full Moons Field.

Thitwhistle’s

When Witches Sing

A glitter and glue covered witch calling the man who took him under his wing Dad for the first time.
A riverside vigil held for a man thought lost to time, arranged by a witch filled with chaos.
A dancing witch who hides in plain sight, protecting others like them from a violent and unfamiliar Levena.
A swamp witch comprised of moss and a lonely heart, who finds out how many ways a heart can be stretched.
A clumsy immortal, returned home to the hedge witch who has waited eleven years to hold his soulmate again.

There will be screaming goats, long nights filled with nightmares and the comfort of a lover once lost to time, burnt breakfasts and dancing in kitchens. Fireplaces will crackle to life in cottages filled with bones, crystals, paintings and books. The snow will fall lazily outside windows that are decorated with strands of citrus garland. The silver and golden moons will be full, and they will all dance around a bonfire to massive drums beat upon by kindred spirits.

And when the night melds with dawn, those who have been separated for far too long will reunite under candle light, accompanied only by the sounds and sensations of the person they’re with. Their person.

The witches will sing, and there will be so much love and life, that there can’t possibly be another Yule quite like this one.


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