No Shortage of Magic

By Patti Larsen

The Hayle Coven Universe comes to life in this collection of short stories from the beloved world of Sydlynn Hayle. From Uncle Frank the vampire to her little sister, Meira, Quaid Moromond and, of course, everyone's favorite silver Persian demon boy, Sassafras, these eight tales begin before the events of prequel novella Dreams and Echoes, after World's Best Story 2014 Family Magic and with the final story falling after the completion of the Hayle Coven Novels original series.

Return to Wilding Springs once more and fall in love with the Hayle coven all over again. Welcome home, witches.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patti Larsen
• Release date: Sep 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9781998948109

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.

Book preview

No Shortage of Magic

A Hayle Coven Universe Short Fiction Collection

Smashwords Edition

Patti Larsen

© Patti Larsen 2011-2022

Find more at https://pattilarsen.com/home

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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 the vendor and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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My very dear Hayle Coven reader:

As I near the publication of my 200th title (!), I find myself reflecting on the past fourteen years I’ve spent writing and living the life of my dreams as a full-time author. So many adventures, so many voices… it’s been a wonderful, emotional and amazing ride spanning big life events and my own personal evolution.

Funny how looking ahead can turn you back to the past, though, isn’t it? The very first voice that came to me in this iteration of my chosen career was none other than Sydlynn Hayle. While far from the initial character to yammer at me (I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was twelve, so there have been many others), she’s the loudest and most persistent. With an initial series of twenty books that turned into a forty-six volumes (and counting) universe, Syd is far from done with me, even if she’s been politely quiet to allow others a turn.

Which brings me to this collection. Some of you have been with me since day one, followed Syd’s adventures a single volume at a time. Others of you found her later, devoured the Hayle Coven Novels while Family Magic won a major award and life turned topsy turvy for a time. And yet more of you will only just be discovering the delight and deeply enrapturing world that is the Hayle family saga.

If you have been with me all along, you may have read all of these before. Or perhaps there’s a gem or two in this short story collection you’ve never seen. I certainly hope so. For the rest of you, I invite you to explore the world of the Hayle coven through the voices that we rarely get to hear from: Sassafras, Uncle Frank, Meira, even Quaid. And yes, Syd herself, of course.

Over the years, I’ve written this selection of short stories for a variety of reasons. I’d always intended to collect them into one place for your enjoyment, but never seemed to get to it.

Until now.

I’m so happy to share these tales with you. I’ve assembled them in chronological order to the original series, and established a basic timeframe so you know where each falls amid the plethora of Hayle Coven Universe volumes.

I hope you enjoy these short looks into the world of Syd and her amazing family.

Best,

Patti

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Pre Dreams and Echoes

Syd is fifteen and rebellious, as always, in this era, without any kind of anchor outside the coven as her family is forced to move from town to town thanks to a variety of mishaps and misadventures, often her fault. This selection happens before the Hayle Coven Novels prequel novella, Dreams and Echoes.

I wrote A (Not) Very Neighborly ChristWitchmas as a bit of a joke, a riff on Miriam’s inability to bake, and it still makes me laugh—remember the comment about the coven having to leave town in the middle of the night so no one gets arrested? This story is case in point.

Blood Brother is my first connection with Syd’s vampire Uncle Frank, and I loved it. I was aware of how deeply his past influenced him, but I didn’t know from his point of view until I wrote this.

As a sidebar, there is a book pending from Sunny’s point of view that I’ve been meaning to write, her origin story, how she meant Sebastian and became a vampire herself, and her initial encounter with Frank Hayle that led to him becoming a vampire. Looking back at this piece has me wanting to write it even more.

I know I’m not the only Sassafras fan, and this collection has a number of tales from his exceedingly snarky point of view. A Very Sassy Halloween is no exception. I wrote this flash piece shortly after Family Magic and it’s still one of my favorites.

Killer Jeans came about thanks to Family Magic’s 2014 win of World’s Best Story as part of the re-release promotion and marketing I created. Syd’s misadventures with magic never fail to entertain me, and this is no exception.

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A (Not) Very Neighborly ChristWitchmas

(POV: Syd)

Things turned ugly from the moment we moved in.

I’m not sure what it was about our new neighbor that drove my mother nuts. After all, we’d lived in any number towns over the years, when coven life forced us to relocate at the drop of a badly timed spell or two. I was used to it by now, if unhappy with my circumstances. But it meant we’d had a vast and varied variety of neighbors along the way, none of which set my mother off like Mary Kirkpatrick.

Miriam, I heard Erica say that very first morning as she joined us in our new driveway. Look, how friendly. Mom and her best friend and coven second waved back to the woman hustling her way across the street, everything about her screaming prim and proper housewife. She huffed to a stop in front of us, touching her recently colored hair, green eyes scanning Mom like a fast-forward film before she pasted on a wide smile.

"Oh, how lovely, she said in a simpering voice. New across-the-streeters. She grabbed Mom’s hand and began to shake it while I watched my mother’s face tighten under her smile. The woman pumped Mom’s hand a moment before doing the exact same thing to Erica. So happy to have you in our close little community. She winked at Mom. Very close."

Could be a problem. Especially considering the entire coven moved with us, almost a hundred people. No way we’d go unnoticed. Did Mom screw up her choice this time? I suppressed a sigh and promised myself not to get too comfortable.

Not like I ever really did.

Mary Kirkpatrick, the woman gushed at last.

Miriam Hayle. Was that an edge to Mom’s voice? She’d dealt with worse. What was her problem?

Erica Ployer. I had to give her credit. Erica recognized the same fuse in Mom I was seeing and tried to guide the neighbor away before Mount St. Hayle could bubble up further, but Mary was fixated on Mom, I guess for obvious reasons. My mother was striking, to say the least—tall, black hair that hung down her back in shining curls, perfect porcelain skin and eyes so blue they could rival the sky. Not that Mrs. Kirkpatrick wasn’t pretty, but, well.

Mom was a knockout. There were times I was jealous of her myself.

From that moment on, the mere mention of Mary Kirkpatrick’s name could illicit a teeth-grinding, vein popping, eye narrowing response in Mom. Honestly, I don’t think she even knew what bothered her so much about the woman, but I was pretty certain it would be something Mom did to her that made us move this time.

At least it wouldn’t be my fault, for once.

I remember that Halloween, right around the time we moved in, mostly because of Mrs. Kirkpatrick and her house. It was one of those classic styles, three stories all in pale yellow with gingerbread trim and a perfect lawn. But it wasn’t her classic suburban domicile as such that caught my attention and the notice of everyone else in town, but how she decorated it.

I don’t think I ever found out what her husband did for a living, and though I knew there was no way he was in the movie business in such a tiny town in Maine, it certainly looked that way. The entire place was decked, from the cutesy spiders dancing from each peak to the impressive reenactment of the witch’s scene from MacBeth on their front lawn to the glaring shades of yellow and black he painted in alternating stripes down the length of the driveway. The night of the big holiday, hers was the busiest house in town, the sound of creepy music and cackling a perfect counterpoint to the decorative vision that was the Kirkpatrick residence.

I usually took my little sister Meira out trick-or-treating alone. Despite the fact our coven didn’t celebrate Halloween per se, Samhain more our kind of thing, Mom was still okay with us having a little fun. Besides, it was the one day of the year my half-demon sister was able to go outside without disguising her red skin and cute little black horns, or the fact her eyes glowed amber.

But as I donned my requisite witch costume, trying not to feel too obvious and embarrassed by it, Mom banged on my door.

Hurry up, she said. Your sister and I are waiting.

Hmm. Since when did Mom go out for Halloween?

Since she wanted to check out Mrs. Kirkpatrick, of course, without looking like she was actually doing said checking out. I found myself clenching my teeth, a giant knot forming in my stomach as we crossed the street and up the drive to the front door. Mom’s smile was as fake as the glitter in her hair, her gaze glowing with an almost maniacal zeal. Meira squirmed a little, pulling her hand free from Mom’s grasp and rolled her eyes at me, rubbing it so the red flooded back from almost white, thanks to the death-grip Mom had it in.

I knew there was tension there, but I think that was the first time I really understood just how precarious things were and I actually feared for the lady next door, to be honest.

All I could mentally utter to myself? Uh-oh. Because the moment the door swung open to our knock I knew trouble was only a matter of time.

Mrs. Kirkpatrick was dressed as a witch. Not just any witch, nope. A full-blown, hat and robe, wart on her fake nose, stuffed cat and broomstick in hand witch.

Anything but that.

Mom’s power clenched. I felt it along our connection. Correction, every single member of our coven felt it along the connection as the family magic simmered in answer to her anger.

Hello, my pretties. The woman did a fair imitation of a cackle, I’d give her that. Though her whole act wasn’t endearing her to Mom any. I’m not sure if Mrs. Kirkpatrick knew Mom didn’t like her or if she did and just didn’t care, but she happily ignored my mother as she deposited two full sized candy bars, two cans of soda and two real-sized bags of chips into our open pillowcases.

There you are, pretties, she said before her eyes met Mom’s.

I may not have been sure before, but I was then. Mary Kirkpatrick knew exactly what Mom thought of her. And the feeling was mutual.

I hoped the looming threat of explosive conflict would just go away. When Mom led us stomping down the Kirkpatrick’s driveway that night, I crossed my fingers as she continued all the way home, slamming the front door behind her, that she would just stay away from the neighbors like she always did, and we could at least have a few months of peace.

Not that the Kirkpatrick twins had any interest in letting me settle in. My first day of school after Halloween they made it pretty obvious their mother’s feelings about my mother were translated to their feelings about me when they casually stopped before me in front of the entire student body at lunch with their matching noses in the air.

We don’t like freaks in our town, the