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Chapters (154)
  1. THE HOLLOW SERIES BOOKS 1–4
  2. Contents
  3. Dead Witch Walking
  4. Title Page
  5. Dedication
  6. One
  7. Two
  8. Three
  9. Four
  10. Five
  11. Six
  12. Seven
  13. Eight
  14. Nine
  15. Ten
  16. Eleven
  17. Twelve
  18. Thirteen
  19. Fourteen
  20. Fifteen
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-One
  27. Twenty-Two
  28. Twenty-Three
  29. Twenty-Four
  30. Twenty-Five
  31. Twenty-Six
  32. Twenty-Seven
  33. Twenty-Eight
  34. Twenty-Nine
  35. Thirty
  36. Thirty-One
  37. Thirty-Two
  38. Thirty-Three
  39. Thirty-Four
  40. Acknowledgements
  41. The Good, The Bad and The Undead
  42. Dedication
  43. One
  44. Two
  45. Three
  46. Four
  47. Five
  48. Six
  49. Seven
  50. Eight
  51. Nine
  52. Ten
  53. Eleven
  54. Twelve
  55. Thirteen
  56. Fourteen
  57. Fifteen
  58. Sixteen
  59. Seventeen
  60. Eighteen
  61. Nineteen
  62. Twenty
  63. Twenty-One
  64. Twenty-Two
  65. Twenty-Three
  66. Twenty-Four
  67. Twenty-Five
  68. Twenty-Six
  69. Twenty-Seven
  70. Twenty-Eight
  71. Twenty-Nine
  72. Acknowledgements
  73. Every Which Way But Dead
  74. Title Page
  75. Dedication
  76. Contents
  77. One
  78. Two
  79. Three
  80. Four
  81. Five
  82. Six
  83. Seven
  84. Eight
  85. Nine
  86. Ten
  87. Eleven
  88. Twelve
  89. Thirteen
  90. Fourteen
  91. Fifteen
  92. Sixteen
  93. Seventeen
  94. Eighteen
  95. Nineteen
  96. Twenty
  97. Twenty-One
  98. Twenty-Two
  99. Twenty-Three
  100. Twenty-Four
  101. Twenty-Five
  102. Twenty-Six
  103. Twenty-Seven
  104. Twenty-Eight
  105. Twenty-Nine
  106. Thirty
  107. Thirty-One
  108. Thirty-Two
  109. Thirty-Three
  110. Acknowledgements
  111. A Fistful of Charms
  112. A FISTFUL OF CHARMS
  113. Dedication
  114. Contents
  115. One
  116. Two
  117. Three
  118. Four
  119. Five
  120. Six
  121. Seven
  122. Eight
  123. Nine
  124. Ten
  125. Eleven
  126. Twelve
  127. Thirteen
  128. Fourteen
  129. Fifteen
  130. Sixteen
  131. Seventeen
  132. Eighteen
  133. Nineteen
  134. Twenty
  135. Twenty-One
  136. Twenty-Two
  137. Twenty-Three
  138. Twenty-Four
  139. Twenty-Five
  140. Twenty-Six
  141. Twenty-Seven
  142. Twenty-Eight
  143. Twenty-Nine
  144. Thirty
  145. Thirty-One
  146. Thirty-Two
  147. Thirty-Three
  148. Thirty-Four
  149. Thirty-Five
  150. Acknowledgements
  151. Keep Reading
  152. Also by the Author
  153. About the Author
  154. About the Publisher

Slipping off my wet boots and coat, I left them by the door and padded in my socks through the peaceful sanctuary. The hush of a passing car came in through the high transom windows above the stained-glass windows. The pixies had worked for hours chiseling the old paint off and oiling the hinges so I could open them with the long pole I’d found in the belfry stairway. There were no screens, which was why the lights were off. There were no pixies either. My desk was again my desk. Thank all that was holy.

My wandering attention touched on the potted plants Jenks had left behind on my desk, and I jerked to a halt, seeing a pair of green eyes under the chair, catching the light. Slowly my breath slipped from me. “Darn cat,” I whispered, thinking Rex was going to scare the life out of me if she didn’t break my heart first. I crouched to try to coax her to me, but Rex didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t even twitch her beautiful tail.

Rex didn’t like me much. She liked Ivy just fine. She loved the garden, the graveyard, and the pixies that lived in it, but not me. The little ball of orange fluff would sleep on Ivy’s bed, purr under her chair during breakfast for tidbits, and sit on her lap, but she only stared at me with large, unblinking eyes. I couldn’t help but feel hurt. I think she was still waiting for me to turn back into a wolf. The sound of Kisten and Ivy’s voices intruded over the slow jazz. Hiking the canvas bag higher, I awkwardly inched closer to Rex, hand held out.

Ivy and I had been home a week, and we were all still in emotional limbo. Three seconds after Ivy and I walked in the door, Kisten looked at my dental floss stitches, breathed deeply, and knew what had happened. In an instant, Ivy had gone from happy-to-be-home to depressed. Her face full of an aching emptiness, she’d dropped her bags and took off on her bike to get it “checked over.”

Just as well. Kisten and I had a long, painful discussion where he both sorrowed after and admired my new scars. It felt good to confess to someone that Ivy had scared the crap out of me, and even better when he agreed that in time she might forget her own fear and try to find a blood balance with me.