The Witching Hour

It wasn’t what she expected. But then she was twenty-five now. She’d learnt that whatever you expected, what tended to turn up wasn’t it. Sheena had, long ago, given up on magic. She knew the world didn’t work like that. She’d given up on it as more or less the same time she’d given up on handsome princes. The princes she’d seen were not that handsome. The only trait they ever seemed to have in common with handsome men was a complete and utterly devoted love of themselves, something else that...