Let’s let them speak to us,” Eleanora replied. She leaned her weight against the rubber handrail as she pressed send, exhausted by this simple task, and then closed her eyes, losing herself in the din of conversation around her. Outside, the sky had grown gray and swollen with the promise of rain, but this promise had not yet been kept. Her garden was as close to a shrine or temple as their kind believed in, and Hessika was its rough master, forcing her enormous hands, joints stiff and swollen from arthritis, to do her bidding there. First in a “spellbinding”* series about a coven of witches living in L.A., from Amber Benson, author of the Calliope Reaper-Jones novels. I started with The Witches of Echo Park, which I picked up over the summer, and I was excited to start this book. “Hope Russian tea is all right?”. A small child sat upon the woman’s lap, its head bowed under the weight of a spiked crown. An Echo Park Coven Novel (Book 1) Share your thoughts Complete your review. No one would disagree that she was as immovable as a rock when attacked, utterly impervious to the whims or whines or worries of those she did not respect. Please try again. When placed above the mantelpiece of the sitting room fireplace, the horseshoe-shaped wreath—mounted to a disc of muted mother-of-pearl and set behind glass—was a real showstopper. 3 stars for the promise Witches of Echo Park offers for a new series. As master of their coven, she was also adept at rooting her blood sisters to the earthly plane, reminding them of their obligations to the world they inhabited. A cool random tidbit is that we both share the same birthday of January 8th. A great read, but very literary in scope, tone and writing style. Eleanora took a deep breath and visibly relaxed. “Speaking of the cards,” Dev said, picking up the deck from the table, her touch instantly warming the cards. . She looked like death warmed over: red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes framed by bruise-purple circles; pale cheeks; lips so chapped they were flaking. She felt like she’d been set adrift upon the ocean, the orange glow from the cigarette’s tip and the pale yellow of the porch light the only illumination in what seemed like a sea of night. . Then, her body and mind reeling from days of sitting up to sleep in coach on the train from Boston, she’d gone limp in the strange woman’s arms and cried like a baby while the whole of Union Station watched. “She was the mother of the Virgin Mary? Dev opened a cabinet and took down a tin of homemade sugar cookies, setting the tin along with two chipped blue plates onto the table. Tonight when Freddy got home from work, she’d ask him to drag down the boxes of autumn-themed decorations from the attic, so she could get the house ready for Halloween. The time has come for Lyse to learn who and what we are. I’m not gonna deal with this right now, Lyse thought, pushing the memories away as she stared at the blank screen embedded in the airline seat in front of her. Please try again. “She will follow you and you, well . I did not really finish this book..I started it & kept skipping pages & read the end but none of it went anywhere..The plot is mundane & the characters are not interesting nor are they particularly likable. “They think I’m Carrie come to life.”, “Ha!” Eleanora cackled, setting her tea down. The Witches of Echo Park: Benson, Amber: 9780425268674: Books - Amazon.ca. Even when a major character who needs to share that information could die at a. I can’t bear it,” Lyse said, pushing back a wave of panic at the thought of her great-aunt’s approaching death. Uncertain as to what the birdlike woman wanted Lyse and her great-aunt Eleanora had almost shouted into phone! Zippo lighter from her skirt pocket—a gift from a bulldog-faced Marine she ’ s in the United States on 9... 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