Introduction

As featured on the Kelly Clarkson Show

Haunted by a curse that kills someone close to their family every thirteen years, two sisters must come together to break the spell and save that which they hold most dear.

This enchanting novel explores the fraught lines between family and the secrets they keep, perfect for fans of Ava Morgyn and Heather Webber.

Florence and Evie Caldwell have long disagreed on how to break their family’s curse, and tension has been high since their mother’s death thirteen years ago. Honeysuckle House, the family estate where every Caldwell has lived, now only houses one of the sisters. Evie has crafted it into an enchanted bed-and-breakfast while Florence runs a magical bookstore in town, refusing to even set foot inside Honeysuckle House.

But when the house starts behaving dangerously and catches fire, Florence and Evie must set aside their differences and dig into past generations of their family and the town’s history before the curse claims someone they love.

Witches of Honeysuckle House is an exploration of sisterhood, family, and the places we call home, perfect for readers who love the darker aspects of Weyward and the sister dynamics of The Crescent Moon Tearoom.

Editorial Review

No Editorial Review Currently Available

Excerpt

Chapter One

Florence, Now

A witch’s house is a living, breathing thing. When magic is as much a part of a person as air or water or blood, it refuses to stay in narrow, well-drawn lines. It infuses board and beam. It winks in windows and mirrors. It seeps out with every candle burned and every card turned, until, given enough time, it takes on a life of its own.

For Florence Caldwell, that place was Ink & Pages, a cozy, unassuming bookstore beneath her apartment in the heart of Burdock Creek. Florence had used her inheritance to buy it when it was on the brink of going out of business, setting up shop with her best friend. The first time she walked through the doors after that, the building had come to life.

The brick storefront beckoned customers, calling them off the street and through its thick wooden doors. One look at the window display and they’d find the exact novel they’d mentioned to their friend the day before, or the cookbook their brother had wanted for his birthday, or the memoir they’d seen online that afternoon. All it took was one step inside to feel like the shop went on forever. A work of clever architecture and proper shelf placement, or so Florence claimed to anyone who asked. The locals, of course, knew better. Florence was a Caldwell witch, and the Caldwells had a reputation in their little east Tennessee town.

The southern humidity had finally released its hold on Burdock Creek, and when Florence stepped out on the apartment landing above the store, her breath fogged in the morning air, steaming up the lenses of her thick, wide-rimmed glasses. A little thrill ran through her as the wind whipped her hair with the threat of rain. As much as she loved the sounds of summer, here the cicadas’ songs lasted well into September and the thick heat right along with them. It wasn’t until days after the old maple outside her window traded in its green for a full coat of yellow that the temperature made up its mind to match.

Florence wore a button-up blouse beneath a soft brown sweater, both of which she tucked into a long floral skirt. She’d traded her sandals for pointed green boots and calf-length socks that showed a flash of fair skin with each swish of fabric. As the apartment door closed behind her of its own volition, she pulled her sweater over her hands and started down the steps.

The town was already bustling, Burdock Creek’s fall tourism season in full swing despite the dark clouds. Even now guests spilled out of the coffee shop across the street, owned by her best friend Angela Rider’s parents. The fall chill called for pumpkin spice, but with the line as it was, Florence would have to wait for a midmorning break. October was the town’s busiest time of year thanks to the festival Florence’s younger sister Evie hosted at their childhood-home-turned-bed-and-breakfast, a point of contention between the sisters. For years, Florence had avoided the whole affair, but holding it this fall was more than tasteless.

It was dangerous.

This wasn’t any normal October. This was a thirteenth year.

For the Caldwells, thirteen wasn’t just an unlucky number. It was a curse. Thirteen years ago, Florence’s mother died. Thirteen years before that, her father. Thirteen years before him, her grandmother. And back and back all the way to her great-grandparents. Every one of them on October thirteenth and every one of them in the Queen Anne Victorian at the edge of town. The place Florence’s sister called home: Honeysuckle House.

If history had any say in the matter, in four short days, someone dear to the Caldwell witches would die on its grounds.

As Florence reached the sidewalk, her fingers itched to dip and burn a protection candle, but Florence hadn’t used her magic since her mother’s death. No longer did she set flame to wick and pull her desires into the world like the threads of tangible things. If her tarot reading thirteen years ago was to be believed, giving up her magic was the only way for Florence to stop the deaths that had plagued her family for almost a century. Not that her younger sister understood that.

Florence caught sight of Angela making her way across the road, two lattes in hand. Fresh twists fell down Angela’s back, and her dark brown skin glowed in the morning sun. Her jeans were belted high, with an oversized sweater tucked in at the waist. Though her lace-up boots gave her a couple of extra inches, they still left her well below Florence’s five-foot-ten.

“It’s finally fall in Burdock Creek!” Angela said as she skipped the last few steps and held out one of the cups to Florence. At Florence’s answering frown, Angela said, “I know it’s a curse year, but we have to at least celebrate the change in the weather.”

That, Florence couldn’t argue with. She shoved her keys into her pocket, accepted the drink—the hot paper sleeve a welcome feeling against her chilled hands—and took a long, satisfied sip, awash in the smell of leaves and fog and fireplaces.

“Owen was at the coffee shop,” Angela said with a grin as she held up a bag of pastries.

Florence rolled her eyes and reached for them, but Angela pulled them back.

“He’s coming in for his tarot lesson this morning,” Angela said. While Florence might not practice anymore, tarot wasn’t something that belonged only to the Caldwells. Angela had been reading the cards all her life, and Florence saw no need to ask her to stop on Florence’s account. Angela wasn’t a Caldwell, so there was no danger in it.

“He asked about you,” Angela said.

Florence’s stomach fluttered. She pressed a hand to it, willing the sensation away. The last thing Florence could do right now was  fall for someone. She’d kept the number of people she cared about to a minimum— her sister, her niece, and Angela—f or their protection as much as her own. “Was he looking for a book recommendation?”

“Or a bookseller.” Angela’s laughter came out bright and loud and so much bigger than anyone would’ve expected by looking at her.

“Not an option,” Florence said.

“And if we all make it past October thirteenth unscathed?” A touch of hope tinged Angela’s words.

Florence hadn’t thought that far. For the last thirteen years, every moment of anxiety, every nightmare, every fear ended four days from now, on her thirty- ninth birthday. She shrugged and held out a hand for the pastries.

“That’s not a no,” Angela said.

“Owen will be gone after the thirteenth, so it doesn’t matter what it is.”

Unlike her sister, the town, at least, had the sense to recognize the threat of a curse year. While the local businesses would still take part in their own way, those who lived in Burdock Creek had refused to staff the events at Honeysuckle House. The curse might only claim those close to the Caldwells, but the town still feared becoming col-lateral damage. That left Florence’s sister to hire outside help, includ-ing Owen Grey, whom Evie had brought on to manage the honey harvest. He’d been in town for a few weeks already, staying at Hon-eysuckle House and getting to know Evie’s bees. Florence wondered how much work he was actually doing, as he’d been in the shop almost daily taking tarot lessons.

Angela leaned her head against Florence’s arm. “I just want you to be happy.”

“Then give me that bag,” Florence said.

With a laugh, Angela handed it over. Florence peered inside as Angela unlocked the door. “Sticky buns!”

“You really think I would’ve teased you about . . .” Angela dropped her voice to a whisper as she glanced down the sidewalk “. . . the curse, if I didn’t have sticky buns?”

“All is forgiven.” Florence took a giant bite and washed it down with a sip of her latte as they stepped inside.

Though Florence had left the Caldwell ways behind, she still tucked sliced lemons in hidden corners and blew cinnamon through the front door at each new moon. Houseplants and crystals kept com-pany among the books. Just inside, a collection of spider plants and several raw chunks of black tourmaline prevented negative energy from coming through the doors. In the self- help section, a calathea and blue lapis lazuli offered clarity and strengthened intuition. Two monsteras framed the romance section, with several raw pieces of rose quartz scattered among the shelves, fostering self-l ove. Finally, a fiddle-l eaf fig sat right near the register surrounded by bright orange citrine points for abundance and happiness.

These were the things Florence had taught herself in an effort to fight back against the candles her mother had once lit to control her— one that blinded her for a day when she’d mistakenly dipped a wick orange instead of red, another that muffled her ears for a week after she’d eavesdropped on her father accusing her mother of using her magic on him, a third that stole her voice for a month when she tried to tell a neighbor how her mother had locked her in her room without food for three days (the house had kept her fed, but it was the principle of the thing).

Was it magic? Only insomuch as the sun rising every morning and setting every night was magic. What mattered was that it wasn’t the Caldwell family magic, which Florence was convinced had brought about the curse.

At least, that’s what she told herself on that early October morn-ing. In four short days, Florence would finally know if all of her efforts had been enough to stop the curse, or if her sister’s decision to build a life around the very magic Florence abandoned would outweigh those efforts, leaving Florence with the most heartbreaking sort of “I told you so.”

After the curse had claimed their mother and almost taken Flor-ence along with her, the sisters had been determined to never let it happen again. Florence had wanted to leave Honeysuckle House behind, convinced the curse was tied to their childhood home. Every death had happened there. If they avoided Honeysuckle House, she reasoned, then maybe the curse wouldn’t claim them. But to Evie, it was the witches who were cursed, not the house.

They turned to tarot, as Caldwell witches are known to do. But they’d been unable to agree on what the cards had shown them: The hierophant reversed, temperance reversed, the hermit.

The meaning had been clear for Florence. She had to be her own guide—she couldn’t trust anyone else to lead her—and her plan to stay away from the house was the right path. Their power had gone out of balance, putting a curse on their family. The only way to undo it was to give that power up altogether. To become the hermits the cards told them they must be.

Evie hadn’t seen it that way, and the sisters hadn’t agreed on any-thing since. view abbreviated excerpt only...

Discussion Questions

From the author:

1. Witches of Honeysuckle House includes six points of view that can be broken into three pairs Florence and Evie; Regina and

2. Violet; Clara and Honeysuckle House. How do each set of viewpoints work together to provide a complete picture of the Caldwell family story?

3. Research suggests that intergenerational trauma can be passed down as far as four generations, with some theories indicating trauma can affect a person’s DNA and influence the health of future generations. How do we see the Caldwell family trauma passing from generation to generation in Witches of Honeysuckle House? Has your family experienced trauma? If so, how have you seen that passed down through the generations?

4. Clara is the youngest Caldwell witch and the only one not wrapped up in the family curse. Though her mother and her aunt are the ones trying to break the curse, ultimately Clara is the only one who can cast the spell. How do you think this ties into the larger themes of generational trauma in the novel?

5. Florence and Violet are both the eldest sisters in their families, while Regina and Evie are the youngest sisters. How do their roles as eldest versus youngest impact their relationships with each other?

6. Linda Caldwell had the opportunity to end the curse but instead chose to continue it on to the next generation. Why do you think this is? What would you have done in the same situation?

7. Witches of Honeysuckle House explores the idea of home. What makes a place a home? What happens when we can no longer return home?

8. Tarot cards play an important role in the novel, helping guide the witches’ paths while also serving as part of the book’s structure. The primary cards include: the hermit, the lovers, the magician, the five of cups, the ace of swords, the three of swords, the seven of swords, the four of wands, the tower, the two of cups, death, temperance reversed, and the ten of cups. How did some or all of these cards play out thematically in the novel?

9. When Florence and Evie finally uncover the truth behind the family curse, they learn about Regina’s siphoning spell. How does this idea of siphoning another witch’s magic fit into the overall themes of trauma and the cycle of abuse?

10. In addition to family of origin, the book has themes of found family and falling in love. How do Owen and Angela play into both Florence and Evie’s healing journeys?

Weblinks

»	Author's website with a great book club kit for the book!
»	Follow the author on Instagram
»	Follow the author on Substack
»	Bookshop.org link to the book
»	Also by this author

Book Club Recommendations

Recommended to book clubs by 0 of 0 members.

Member Reviews

There are no user reviews at this time.
Rate this book