Daughters of Hecate
The first book in the exciting Daughters of Hecate series!
She spent eight years on the run because of werewolves—but now, allying with them may be the only way to stay alive.
Jo Murphy was just an ordinary New Age witch who had a knack for reading tarot before she was kidnapped and tortured by the Fenris, a pack of insane werewolves. Since she escaped that hell after calling on the goddess Hecate for help, Jo hasn’t been the same, emotionally or magically. It left her with PTSD nightmares, a boatload of paranoia, and access to new powers that she doesn’t understand, including the ability to walk through mirrors. With the Fenris gone—apparently by her hand—Jo started running and didn’t stop until another werewolf tracked her down.
When Ezekiel Booker answered the Council’s call to find and question Josephine Murphy, he thought it would be one last job before he settled down to become alpha of his own pack in St. Louis. However, Booker didn’t bank on how she would affect him when they came face-to-face—and then she disappeared. When he finally finds her again, she’s settled down and created a magical sanctuary and occult shop out of an old building in his territory. And it’s entirely warded against werewolves.
Booker doesn’t want to hurt Jo—far from it—but he does need to find out why the Fenris wolves have completely disappeared. He contacts her, determined to prove that she’s not in danger from him. Meanwhile, Jo wants to trust alpha wolf Booker, but she’s not the naïve young witch she once was. There’s something in him that calls to her, and all her senses are telling him he’s on her side; it doesn’t hurt that he’s hot as hell and seems attracted to her. Even so, old habits and suspicions die hard.
But then a necromancer attacks Jo, using the freshly killed body of her friend and protégé as a weapon, and their only clue is a mysterious rune necklace and an all-girl Goth band that isn’t quite what it seems. Now Jo has no choice but to join forces with Booker and his pack to find out who’s raising the dead in St. Louis … or become a corpse herself.