
A Witch’s Guide to Practical Magic (Cackleshore Academy, Book 1)
Welcome to Cackleshore Academy…
Nell Clayton didn't just leave the magical school she once called home — she ran.
She built herself a perfectly ordinary life, and she was perfectly fine with that, thank you very much.
Then the hex hit.
Now she's back behind those ivy-tangled gates, and nothing is as she left it. A feral little witchling is turning the town upside down with wild, untraceable magic. Someone — or something — is quietly pulling the Academy apart from the inside. And then there's him: the boy she left behind – complete with stormy eyes and a bone to pick.
Some witches are made. Some are born. And some are dragged back kicking and screaming — right where they belong.
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A Witch’s Guide to Practical Magic (Cackleshore Academy, Book 1)
Welcome to Cackleshore Academy…
Nell Clayton didn't just leave the magical school she once called home — she ran.
She built herself a perfectly ordinary life, and she was perfectly fine with that, thank you very much.
Then the hex hit.
Now she's back behind those ivy-tangled gates, and nothing is as she left it. A feral little witchling is turning the town upside down with wild, untraceable magic. Someone — or something — is quietly pulling the Academy apart from the inside. And then there's him: the boy she left behind – complete with stormy eyes and a bone to pick.
Some witches are made. Some are born. And some are dragged back kicking and screaming — right where they belong.
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Welcome to Cackleshore Academy…
Nell Clayton didn't just leave the magical school she once called home — she ran.
She built herself a perfectly ordinary life, and she was perfectly fine with that, thank you very much.
Then the hex hit.
Now she's back behind those ivy-tangled gates, and nothing is as she left it. A feral little witchling is turning the town upside down with wild, untraceable magic. Someone — or something — is quietly pulling the Academy apart from the inside. And then there's him: the boy she left behind – complete with stormy eyes and a bone to pick.
Some witches are made. Some are born. And some are dragged back kicking and screaming — right where they belong.