Witch Ever Way You Go (The Seattle Coven Tales Book 1)

A Party Invitation Turns Deadly in Witch Ever Way You Go

What begins as a night of elegance in a Seattle mansion quickly descends into a waking nightmare for graduate student Steven Metcalf and his girlfriend Maara. When a hidden agenda is revealed, the couple is thrust into a deadly chase through the city—hunted by a ruthless coven intent on completing an ancient ritual.

As the clock ticks down, Steven and Maara must unravel dark secrets, confront their deepest fears, and fight to survive a world ruled by magic, sacrifice, and betrayal. Witch Ever Way You Go is a chilling, fast-paced tale that blends modern horror with occult suspense—the gripping first installment in Robert Herold’s Seattle Coven Tales.

Start reading Witch Ever Way You Go today and enter a world where survival means confronting the darkest kind of magic.

Excerpt from the book

February 13, 2015

I handed the oversized invitation card to the greeter in the entryway and flashed her my most charming smile. The blonde woman wore a low-cut black dress, and a large ruby hung from a thin gold chain just above her bosom. Her blue eyes met mine, and she returned my smile with full red lips, her expression lascivious and brazen. She appraised me up and down, and I finally understood the feminist complaint about men undressing women with their eyes.

A sudden mix of desire and discomfiture washed over me. I only just arrived and had never met this woman before. I also felt embarrassed by the evidence of my arousal visible through my khaki slacks, should she glance down again.

Men and women in stylish formal wear filled the foyer of the lakefront mansion. I, on the other hand, wore a button-down blue-and-white shirt (open at the neck) and brown loafers, chosen to go with my slacks. I had left my jacket in the car because of the unusually warm February night. My attire was acceptable for teaching or attending seminars at the University of Washington, where I pursued a doctorate in history, but formal wear it was not.

“I appear to be underdressed. The invitation didn’t indicate black tie.”

My greeter’s eyes sparkled as she pointed at my pants and laughed. “Nevertheless, you seem excited to be here.”

My cheeks burned with a flush.

She made a little wave with a hand featuring nails painted the same shade as her lips. “Don’t worry about the attire. We’re just glad you’re here, Mr. Metcalf. Perhaps I’ll see you later.” She turned to the couple behind me, and I moved into the crowded, marble-floored room, then stopped.

How did she know my name? Then I recalled my name on the invitation. That must be it.

A tuxedoed waiter offered me a glass of champagne from his silver tray. I took it, grateful for this generosity at a free event. A woman’s hand also reached for a glass from the tray, and I turned to regard her. She had long, light brown hair, similar-colored eyes, and appeared to be in her mid-twenties. She wore a black pencil skirt, a white blouse, a gray cardigan sweater, and black low-heeled pumps. A small patent leather purse hung from a shoulder strap. Another attractive woman, but in an entirely different way—almost wholesome.

“Hello.” She smiled at me. “I guess you didn’t get the memo about the dress code either.”

I laughed. “Embarrassment loves company.”

She sipped the champagne and made a sour expression. “There’s something off about this.” She took the glass from my hand, set both glasses on a nearby table, and smiled again. “Let’s go in search of something else.”

I gestured theatrically. “Lead on.”

We threaded our way through the many guests until we reached the opposite side of the room, dominated by large windows displaying an illuminated lawn and the inky blackness of Lake Washington beyond. Seattle lay in the distance, but its lights weren’t visible. Perhaps fog lay on the lake, and I hadn’t noticed it on my drive from my U-District apartment.