Tara isn’t a religious witch. The night of Samhain doesn’t mean much to her.
She certainly isn’t celebrating it with a bonfire in her backyard, dancing around it cackling loudly, the way some modern witches still liked to do.
Collecting mushrooms seems like a great idea, they will be the most potent when picked on Samhain.
Afterwards she’ll dress up in one of her nan’s old black lacy dresses and go to one of the Halloween parties her human neighbours love.
Surely she will find someone in the mood for some naughty witch action. It’s been too long.
But when Tara hears a rustling in the woods she wonders if her nan’s favourite story of a monster lurking in the woods behind her house is more than just a fairytale to frighten young witches…
She has been warned not to cross the path of the Aos sí and to stay away from the fairy mounds, especially on the night of Samhain.
Beann has waited all year for the veil between the worlds to thin again.
Three hundred and sixty-four days he spent dreaming of her. The woman with the witch red hair he watched last Samhain.
He is determined to seek her out, needing to taste her more than he needs to breathe, or drink, or sleep…
But the trauma runs deep. Can he look past the old wounds inflicted on his kind and make the witch see not the monster, but him? Or are they bound to repeat the mistakes their ancestors made?
CW: sexual harrassment online, transgenerational trauma, witch burning, speciesism
