Wendy Witchspell and The Dastardly Demon: Wendy Witchspell, #7

By kelly Hambly

Wendy and William encounter a demon at Witchspell Manor, but is he as evil as he makes out or is there something else going on? Find out in Wendy Witchspell and The Dastardly Demon, a brand new story in the Wendy Witchepell series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: kelly Hambly
• Release date: Apr 26, 2024
• ISBN: 9798223158653

Book preview

Chapter One

These days I seem to be asking myself ‘what is normal’ especially when it comes to Witchspell Manor. Quite honestly nothing surprises me these days, absolutely nothing. It’s been several weeks since the palaver with Sam and Helga and we’re still none the wiser where the real Helga is. For the past week Auntie has hosted some amazing ghost tours but after tonight there won’t be any except for our channel until the New Year because a guest has booked out the entire place until Christmas Eve. He’s calling himself Father Christmas and I’m dreading what nutter we have coming if I’m honest.

‘Bombs away...’ I hear Auntie yell from the top of the stairs as a box hurtles through the air, splits open and a stream of coloured tinsel lands all over the floor by my feet.

‘Was that absolutely necessary?’ I ask bending down to pick them up and bundle them back into what’s left of the box.

‘We really need to get this done today, Wend. What with the endless tours and guests there hasn’t been time.’

‘Why can’t you just use magic,’ I huff, shaking my head at her as now all the tinsel has broken off, and that needs cleaning up too.

I look up, and she’s standing with her hands on her hips. ‘It’s Christmas that’s why. In order to get into the season, one should try to decorate and whatnot. Just like Halloween.’

Just then the front door opens and Craven walks in with a tree perched over his shoulder. ‘Where would you like it?’ he asks. He’s carrying a tree that’s as tall as three of me put together as if it were a toothpick. 

‘Just in the corner over there,’ she points to the space in hallway by the library door.

‘Okie doke,’ he says and turns to me. ‘Excited for Christmas?’ he asks. ‘Or do you feel the same way about it like Halloween?’ he smiles.

‘I love Christmas,’ I reply which surprises him because he thought I’d go off on a rant about there being no such thing as Father Christmas and explain my theories on why it isn’t possible to fly around the world in one night. Of course, neither is possible but I’m not going to play into his hands right now.

‘So you do put out a stocking then?’

‘Yeah, and I write him a letter,’ I say sarcastically and laugh. I drag the box over to the tree he’s now put into the bucket and start decorating when my phone rings. It’s William, so I put him on speaker. ‘Hey!’

‘Hey, Wend. Just to let you know we’re stuck in traffic, so we won’t be long. Looks like there’s been an accident.’

‘Oh gosh,’ I say, digging through the box for baubles, but when I take one out it’s in the shape of a pumpkin. In fact, they all are and of different colours. ‘I hope nobody’s hurt. See you in a bit, then.’

‘Yeah, I hope so too. Okay, Wend, see you when we see you. I can’t wait to go ghost hunting again.’

‘Nor me. It’s going to be fun.’

William and his dad are spending the holidays at the Manor because we are doing a Christmas special for our channel. It’s just a normal ghost hunt but who knows what else will crop up in the meantime. 

‘How’s it going?’ Auntie says coming towards me with another box of decorations.

‘These baubles are pumpkins.’ I hold one up to show her. ‘How is that Christmas?’

‘Oh, you know me, Wend. I don’t play by the rules. Anything goes here,’ she shrugs, and I have to agree with her. Anything goes in Witchspell Manor. We don’t care if you’re a vampire, a fairy... well, I digress there. The fairies still annoy me a bit, but we’ve all made peace now. I hope.

‘Cool. I quite like it.’ I continue to hook pumpkins on the branches for the next half hour when I hear a car tooting outside. It’s Will.

‘Hey, anyone home?’ his dad hollers as they come through the door laden with suitcases and bags of camera equipment.

‘There’s always someone home,’ I