Saturday, November 16, 2013

Of Witches and Warlocks Review...

Title: The Trouble With Spells
Series: Of Witches and Warlocks #1
By: Lacey Weatherford
Publication Date: November 12th, 2009 by Moonstruck Media



Portia Mullins had always lived the life of a normal teenager, up until her sixteenth birthday. She is then informed by her grandma that she is actually a witch who is a descendant of a long line of witches and warlocks. After overcoming her disbelief she finds that being a member of the coven comes with one great perk in the form of the school's handsome bad boy, Vance Mangum. Vance and Portia have an immediate connection as a budding romance begins, only to be threatened by turbulent skies on the horizon as Vance's checkered past rears its ugly head to haunt them. Portia is forced to use her untried powers in defense of everything she loves in a desperate attempt to hold on to the one thing that really matters in her life.


The bell rang, signaling school was out for the weekend, and I quickly put away my supplies before heading to the sink to wash the clay residue from my hands. When I was satisfied they were clean enough, I grabbed my things and made the trip to my locker.
I twirled my combination and quickly got the books I needed for assignments and headed toward the girl’s restroom. Glancing into the mirror, I looked at my woefully straight hair and heaved a sigh. Shelly was constantly badgering me to try and do something more with it.
Shelly!
“Oh crap!” I groaned loudly in dismay. I’d forgotten she was gone and I needed to ride the bus home. I spun around and ran back through the door, bolting down the long hallway that led to the bus gates.
Suddenly, there was a blur of motion in front of me, and I collide with something hard and solid. I fell backward, and my book bag fell from my shoulder, hitting the floor beside me and scattering the contents everywhere. I scrambled about in a rush, trying to gather my things.
“Why don’t you watch where you’re going?” I said, mostly under my breath. I didn’t even look to see who the intruder was, but I was completely irritated.
“Hey now. You ran into me,” a soft, sultry, male voice returned.
I froze. My gaze slowly moved to the feet in front of me and continued to travel up—over the black laced-up boots covered by tattered Levis, past the black belt with the silver buckle, to the ever-present, tightly stretched t-shirt with a leather jacket slung casually over the shoulder. I noticed the pulsating veins in his neck, and I paused at the soft, wide-set lips before looking straight into the piercing blue-eyed stare of Vance Mangum.
I swallowed hard, and my entire vocabulary was suddenly reduced to only one word. “Sorry.” It came out like a whisper, and I wondered if he even heard it.
Vance slowly squatted down to my level with a slight smirk on his lips.
“Where were you going in such a hurry?” he asked, lifting one of my books and handing it to me.
I threw a glance toward the glass door just in time to see the last of the buses leave the lot.
“I was trying to catch the bus,” I explained, feeling more than a bit dumb. “I forgot my friend Shelly, had to leave early today.”
“Ah,” was all he said. I was surprised when he continued to help me gather my things.
He handed me my last book and stood, holding a hand in front of me. I was shocked by the gesture, but I took it, feeling sparks shoot up my arm at the contact as he pulled me to my feet.
“I can give you a ride,” he offered, letting go of my hand, and I felt a little sad at the loss of it.
I couldn’t speak. Vance Mangum had offered me a ride home. What should I say? I must have stood there looking bewildered because he spoke again.
“Of course, if you’re afraid of motorcycles . . . ,” He let the sentence trail off, almost like he was accusing me of being scared.
“No. Not at all,” I replied with a bravado I didn’t actually feel. I raised my chin a notch, determined not to let him see how nervous he made me. “I’d be happy to accept a ride.”
“Great.” He smiled widely, and I almost choked.
I suddenly realized I’d never seen him smile before, and it was devastating to my girlish heart. I’d never seen anything so beautiful—perfectly straight, white teeth, framed in by those great lips and masculine dimples which suddenly appeared in his cheeks.
The guy should be a model, I thought to myself. He’d make millions.


Reviewed by Missy:

Imagine living the first 16 years of your life very normally then on your 16th birthday having your Grandmother inform you you're actually a witch who is a descendant of a long line of witches and warlocks. Well thats what happened to Portia Mullins in this book by Lacey Weatherford.  She then meets her school's newest "bad boy" Vance Mangum, who isn't at all what  people think he is and they have an immediate connection that sends sparks flying. But then his past catches up to him and Portia has to try to protect him using powers that she hasn't fully learned to control yet. 

This is a Ya novel that is very well done and flowed right along. I loved that characters in this book and found them as refreshing as I did in Fire & Ice. I laughed hard, I cried and I got angry as well as other emotions flooded over me throughout  the book and any story that can make me feel what the characters are feeling deserves a 5  in my opinion. I would recommend this to all and I look forward to reading more books by Lacy Weatherford as she is becoming another favorite author of mine :-) 

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Title- The Demon Kiss
Series- Of Witches and Warlocks # 2
By- Lacey Weatherford


Can someone else's past come back to bite you?

After being drained of nearly all the blood in her body, novice witch, Portia Mullins, wakes up to find that her warlock boyfriend, Vance Mangum, has fled in search of his demon father. Determined to keep him from facing the evil alone Portia follows after him, unknowingly setting herself on the path of a new adventure that will take her, Vance, and their coven over international borders, into a foreign place where they will discover that the black magic which awaits them is far worse than they ever imagined. Portia finds herself tangled up in a web of lies and deceit in another's quest for demonic power in the excitingly romantic second paranormal novel in the Of Witches and Warlocks Series, The Demon Kiss.


He watched me, his eyes growing wide in amazement over my emotional display.
“Wow! You’re really angry!” he said, and it took me a second to realize he said it in my mind.
“Get out of my head!” I continued, shouting out loud. “You’ve lost the right to be there! You cut me off without warning all the time, only to step right back in whenever you want!”
I turned away in a huff and started toward Brad and Shelly, who were both looking very uncomfortable at the moment. Vance grabbed me before I could take two steps and swung me back around. He pulled me into his embrace with one arm while fisting his hand into my hair. He gave it a small yank, which caused my head to tilt back and he lowered his face, kissing me hard.
“I love you,” he said, his words penetrating my mind as his lips ravaged mine, obviously not caring one bit that I had just told him to get out of my head.
I tried staying stiff in his arms, but I was having trouble resisting him. I missed him so badly.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. Really,” he spoke through our link, and I felt his tongue trace lightly over my closed lips. “I just wanted to keep you from any danger.”
I stood still for only a moment before I was unable to fight it any longer. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kissed him back.
We held each other tightly, our reunion becoming heated very quickly. I kissed him as if I hadn’t seen him in years, instead of just days, running my fingers through his hair, over his face and down his neck—forgetting completely we had an audience.
His mouth moved from mine, and he began kissing across my cheek. Instinctively my head leaned to the side to give him better access, and his lips traveled down my neck. His tongue snaked out to lick seductively over the spot where he had bitten me before.
I flinched involuntarily.
Suddenly he let go, pushing me away and taking several steps backward.
We stood there staring at each other, our breathing ragged from our encounter, and I could feel the sparks flying between us.
“I need you to leave now, Portia,” he said, his teeth clenched as he spoke. “You aren’t safe here.”
“Why? I’m not afraid of your . . . ”
“Because of this,” he said, cutting me off and stepping closer to me, but making sure not to touch me. A streak of terror passed through me as I watched his eyes flash a dim shade of red. I didn’t want to believe what I was seeing.
“No. I’m not leaving,” I said flatly, standing my ground against him.
“Don’t you get it?” he replied in frustration, his voice getting louder. “I still taste you! I still want you! I could kill you right now!”


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Title- Blood of the White Witch
Series-Of Witches and Warlocks # 3
By-Lacey Weatherford


When love came knocking on the door of novice witch, Portia Mullins, in the form of handsome bad boy, Vance Mangum, she had no idea how quickly the attraction between them would escalate. Now she finds her relationship with Vance taken to a whole new level, in a way she had never dreamed possible at this point and time of her life. Yet even as the personal connection between them explodes, the two quickly find themselves in a world of shifting balances. While searching for Vance’s missing mother, they realize they are suddenly unsure of who to trust, learning that sometimes things are not always as they appear. When Vance’s demon characteristics abruptly begin to resurface again without warning, the horrible truth comes out, crashing down upon them and shattering some of their most precious dreams. Once the deadly plan is uncovered, Portia and Vance find themselves hastily rushing against the hands of time in an attempt to stop an ancient ritual from being performed. But will they be successful before fate reaches out to twist them cruelly, possibly separating them and changing magic forever? Passion, loyalties, powers, and family ties, will all be tested when dangerous adventures abound in this third installment in the Of Witches and Warlocks series, Blood of the White Witch.


Vance and I climbed out of the car, the dim moonlight washing over us while we moved toward the giant stones in the circle ahead of us.  Dad had divided us all into separate research parties to check out different locations, and Vance and I had been given the assignment of going to explore Stonehenge.  We had been on a guided tour here earlier in the day, but Vance had wanted to come back when the place was deserted and explore it more at our leisure, so after having dinner in the nearest town we made our way back out to the isolated area.
The large towering stones loomed up out of the night as we entered the edifice.  We walked around each of the massive pillars together, running our hands reverently over them as we passed, feeling their hewn textures move under our skin.
We were silent as we moved, listening to and feeling the energies that flowed around us until we had made our way into the inner circle of stones.
“Do you feel it?” Vance asked while he held his hands out from his body, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.
“Yes,” I replied, knowing instinctively he was talking about the humming pulse that was filling the air around us.
It was as if magic was alive and beating in the very air here.
“Something very powerful is at work here,” Vance said, and he lifted his palms into the air in front of him.
I watched him in amazement when sparks began generating from the tips of his fingers.  There was a loud snapping sound, and suddenly the air burst into electrical currents around him.
He chuckled, and the currents spread through the air, twisting, zipping, and arcing in all directions until there was a current attached to every stone in the circle.  I felt like we were standing in the middle of an electric storm ball, and I could feel the static electricity in the air begin to even lift the hairs on my head.
“Come here,” he said with a grin while he continued to manipulate the magic.
I walked toward him, and the streams of electricity danced harmlessly away from my body as I approached, until I was standing right in front of him.
“Lift your hands up,” he commanded me, and I did as he asked.
He moved his hands until our palms were almost touching, but not quite, and I felt him link with me mentally.
Sparks began shooting from my fingertips the second his mind attached to mine, and I jerked a bit as a wave of the most intense power I had ever felt coursed completely through my body from head to toe.
My breath caught when I suddenly realized this was his magic flowing through me.  Never could I have imagined the strength or the level at which he operated.  I had always known he was strong and gifted magically, but I would have never dreamed it possible at this magnitude.
A stronger surge moved through me.  I felt my hair lift and swirl away from my body as it did, and I realized with awe that he was playing.   What I was feeling was not even the full extent of his power!  I wondered how he could possibly contain it all.  My body was trembling at the invasion of it, and it continued to pulsate through me, causing magical reactions from my own power.  I noticed the tips of my fingers had now turned to solid ice.
The air churned and throbbed with the electric streams that lifted from our bodies, twisting together.  I watched the display around us in amazement.  It was a phenomenal sight to behold, to be a part of.
He stepped forward, locking his fingers with mine, and I felt more than saw the explosion of electricity when his lips touched mine.  My knees buckled under the power of his magic.  He released one of my hands and caught me easily around the waist before pushing me backward with his body until my back was pressed against one of the ancient stones.
He lifted the one hand he still held up over my head, pressing it up against the rock too.  He ran his free hand down my arm, sending actual sparks over my skin, raising huge goose bumps there, before he took my free hand and threaded it around his waist.
Lifting his hand, he touched my face, running his thumb over my lips while he looked at me.  He looked like some sort of mythical god standing in front of me with the very air crackling and swirling around him.
Suddenly his fingers felt very cold on my lips, and I looked down to see that the tips of them had ice on them also, and I realized my powers were transferring to him as well.
“Look at the two of us.”  He grinned seductively while continuing to run his thumb over my lower lip.  “Fire and Ice … literally.”
“How are you doing this?” I asked him.
“I’m not.  It’s this place.  It’s intensifying everything,” he replied dipping in to replace his thumb with his ever so hot lips.
Another shock of power rolled through me, and my knees buckled so badly I would have fallen had he not had me so firmly pinned there with his body.  He kissed me feverishly, twisting his free hand into my hair, and I could feel the heat of his magic roll through me with the contact.
He burned so hot it was almost unbearable for me.  I never realized how cold my magic felt before this point, but getting to experience him in this way was shedding a whole new light on him for me.
He kissed me for a long, long time until I started to notice that both of our lips were becoming icy as well.
He broke the kiss with a laugh.
“We’re going to have to stop this, or you’re going to turn me to a block of ice.” He grinned.
“I don’t think that’s possible since my insides are currently on fire with your magic,” I breathed heavily.
“This has certainly been an interesting exchange of power between the two of us, hasn’t it?” he said, his gaze flitting over my face.
“Yes, it has been very enlightening,” I agreed.
He let out a sigh, leaning his forehead against mine, and I stared deeply into his blue eyes.
“I think I want to kiss you here all night long,” he said.
“That sounds divine,” I replied, watching him.
“Does it?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow at me slightly.  “I’ve never been so hot and cold all at the same time before in my life!  I’m afraid if I continued, you might freeze off some of my body parts!”  He winked, and I laughed out loud at him.
It was then I noticed he actually had frost on his eyebrows, and I smiled, reaching up to brush it off.
“I guess we could always take the kissing someplace less magical,” I suggested to him.
“Kissing you is always magical, Portia, no matter where we are.  And what tends to follow it is even more so.”
“You know what I mean,” I said, shoving at his shoulder slightly with my free hand.
He just laughed, swinging me up into his arms. He proceeded to carry me, electrical storm and all, to the edge of the circle.


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Title- The Dark Rising
Series- Of Witches and Warlocks # 4
By-Lacey Weatherford


When Portia Mullins discovers the love of her life is still alive her heart soars. But reality sets in immediately causing it to plummet when she realizes he doesn’t remember his past life with her. Unwilling to give up, she embarks on a loving quest to restore his life to him.

Vance Mangum sees the beautiful girl claiming to be his wife, and while he can’t remember her, he can’t deny the intense pull he feels between them. Not knowing where else to turn, he agrees to give her the time she’s asked for and to assist her in the effort to recover his memories.

The two quickly reconnect, but dark surprises are lurking in the wings when Vance discovers a desperate longing for something he feels he can’t withstand. Will he be able to resist? Or will evil raise its head in a new form, leaving Portia as the prey of the very man her heart desires?

Darkness reigns supreme in this haunting tale of love and desperation, Of Witches and Warlocks, The Dark Rising.


A woman entered the room behind Catriona.  She appeared to be of Haitian descent, but I couldn’t tell her age.  She looked to be both young and old at the same time, perhaps younger in appearance … yet with an air of knowledge.  Her black hair stood wildly out from her head in some sort of long, untamed afro.  She was wearing a loose flowing dress, made with a light blue calico print that swirled down her slim frame stopping near her ankles, revealing her bare feet beneath.
The fact she was carrying a headless chicken in her hands, letting the blood drip across the floor while she moved through the room, wasn't the most disturbing thing to me.  It was her eyes.
They were solid white—no irises or pupils.  She looked at me with an unnervingly, blank stare.
“This is Mayla,” Cat said to me with a smile as the woman approached my side.  “She's a Hoodoo Priestess.  Her coven has been helping me.”
I watched with wariness when Mayla reached me.  She raised the dead chicken in her hand, letting its blood run out over the top of me, and I would've flinched in disgust if I could've moved at all.
Her low voice began to mutter in a language I couldn't comprehend and demon features suddenly flashed over her face, turning her grotesquely white eyes, completely red in the process.
Great, I thought to myself.  It wasn’t bad enough these people dealt in black magic, they were demons too.
The woman moved away from me, going to one of the many well stocked shelves, and reached up to pull off a wooden bowl of some sort.  She placed the dish on a small table and drained the rest of the chicken blood into it.
She tossed the carcass to the side when she'd finished.  Then she removed several bags of herbs and began placing a pinch from each into her bloody concoction.  When she was done, she mixed the ingredients together by dipping her hand in and letting the liquid run through her fingers.
She carried the dish back over to me, and commenced her mutterings once more, submerging her finger into the bowl before removing it to mark my forehead, wrists, and ankles.
Catriona ripped the neckline of Vance’s t-shirt, the only thing I'd been wearing when she kidnapped me, until it was just an inch above my breast.
Mayla then reached in and placed a blood mark over my heart.
Cat adjusted my I.V. tubing so it flowed faster, and immediately the weakness seeped through me again.
“Open your mouth, Portia,” she instructed me harshly, and I couldn’t help but notice the wicked glint in her eye.
“No,” I replied, clamping my jaw tightly shut, realizing with queasiness they intended to make me drink the grotesque mixture.
She moved to my head, using her hands to force my mouth open.  I struggled against her and Mayla joined her, tipping the dish to begin pouring the blood concoction down my throat.
I frantically fought the invasion, spitting and coughing the vile fluid back out, not wanting to swallow.
Cat slipped into my mind, trying to give me an illusion of something sweet tasting, making me feel like I wanted to drink, but I still fought against the images.  I would've screamed, had I been able to, but they were drowning me with the potion.
“Drink it, Portia!” Cat yelled at me over Mayla’s chanting as I struggled.
Mayla kept pouring.
My lungs seemed like they would burst from lack of oxygen.  Involuntarily, I tried gasping for a breath of air, instead sucking the mixture thickly into my airways and down my throat.
A sensation of fire shot through me and I did scream this time, spraying the blood Mayla still poured into me all over her and Catriona.  The spots on my skin which had been marked began to burn with an intensity I couldn't stand, and I felt as if I were being ripped into two pieces.
Giant tears were streaming down my face as they finished force feeding me.  I saw Cat’s wide smile swimming in and out of my blurred vision, and as soon as my throat was cleared, I drug the air back into myself and yelled with all of my might while my body was racked with horrible spasms.
Mayla moved away from me to pull a glass jar, which was slim on the top, and bulbous on the bottom, from the shelf.  It had a cork in the opening.  She removed the stopper and placed it on the table, and I wondered briefly what it was for.  Then I began to notice the soft white light lifting in wispy streams from my body, moving to enter the container.
“It’s working!” Catriona said with a grin.
“Yes,” Mayla’s southern voice agreed as she nodded.  “It's coming out of her very cells.”
No wonder I felt like I was being ripped in half.  I was.  They were literally tearing the Awakening out of me.  I screamed again.
Cat leaned over next to me, her features swimming and contorting unevenly in my vision.
“This will take a while Portia, and it'll hurt badly.”  She smiled with a sickeningly sweet smile.  “We're going to leave you to yourself for now, but I'll give you some dreams to keep you company.”
She reached out and placed her hand on my head.  


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Title- Possession of Souls
Series-Of Witches and Warlocks # 5
By- Lacey Weatherford


Fear and desperation leave Portia and Vance clinging to threadbare hope as life is given, and taken away. Manipulated, driven by bloodlust and the desire to claim sole possession, the stakes are raised higher than they’ve ever been before. Evil rises with the intent to dominate, leading them and their coven to the ultimate confrontation and battle—a battle which will force one of them to make a devastating, life-altering decision. Who will survive the final stand?
Of Witches and Warlocks book 5, Possession of Souls.





“Happy birthday to you!  Happy birthday to you!  Happy birthday, dear Portia!  Happy birthday to you!”
I tried to focus through the haze of my mind on the light source in front of me, but it kept flickering and moving.  It took a minute for my mind to register what it was seeing—a massive cake, all lit up with candles.
Wait.  It was my birthday?  I looked beyond the cake to the face behind and saw Vance smiling at me.
“What’s going on?” I asked groggily, blinking several times while I tried to collect my thoughts, feeling so confused.
Vance turned and set the cake down on something unseen.  “It’s your birthday, love.  Time to wake up and celebrate.” He smiled and leaned to kiss me on the neck, slowly licking the tip of his tongue seductively up the side of it.
Something wasn’t right, but I was having difficulty understanding what was going on.  I swallowed thickly, struggling to latch onto the thought that was niggling, swimming just out of reach.
Wait.  Love.  That was it!  Vance never called me love, he called me baby.  My previous memories from the night of the fire suddenly came rushing back, crashing over me in flashes of terror.
I pushed at the chest above me, attempting to get away, but I was too weak.  I tried to call on my jinn powers to evaporate and found myself unable to even muster a shimmer.
The soft sound of laughter began to tickle against my ear, followed by a sickening voice.
“What’s the matter, Portia?  You don’t like it when I look like Vance?” Damien Cummings’s voice whispered as his lips tickled against my skin, and he gave a flick of his tongue against my earlobe.
“Get off me, you sick pig!” I rasped out hoarsely, shoving him harder.
He lifted up for a moment, showing himself in his true form this time, and he grabbed both of my hands, pinning them to the table beside my head.
“I’m not done yet!” he said with a sneer, and I watched in horror as his face morphed into his demon features, while I continued to fight against him.  “It’s time for the birthday dinner!”
He slammed his face into the crook of my neck, biting me hard, and I screamed while he drank my blood, feeding in giant gulps until I passed out once again.


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Lacey Weatherford was born in Ft. Meade Maryland while her father was serving in the military. She has been a life long resident of Arizona, spending most of her time growing up in the small rural town of Clay Springs.

It was while she was attending the small country school in Clay Springs, that she read her first "big" book at the age of eight. It was a Nancy Drew novel and Lacey was instantly hooked. She read every book that she could find in the series and decided that she wanted to write stories too.

Lacey spent a lot of time at the library from that time forward, even volunteering in her later teen years and early twenties. She would don a crazy clown outfit for the Friends of the Library fundraisers in an effort to help get the new town library built.

When she and her husband moved away from the area, Lacey took the opportunity to take some creative writing classes at the local college to help further along her interests. Several years later, they were blessed with the opportunity to move back to Clay Springs with their family. The town had finally succeeded in building their library and Lacey had the opportunity to be President of the Friends of the Library for a very short time, before relocating.

Lacey and her family still live in the White Mountains of Arizona, where she continues to write young adult novels that have a fantasy/fairytale or paranormal bent to them, as well as being sure to include a great romantic storyline!


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