Science Fiction & Fantasy
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Her Majesty's Royal Coven: A Novel (The Hmrc Trilogy, 1)
"Superb and almost unbearably charming, Her Majesty's Royal Coven… expertly launches an exciting new trilogy." -The New York Times Book Review
"Talk about a gut punch of a novel. …A provocative exploration of intersectional feminism, loyalty, gender and transphobia [that] invites readers into an intricately woven web of magic, friendship and power." -The Nerd Daily
A Discovery of Witches meets The Craft in this epic fantasy about a group of childhood friends who are also witches.
If you look hard enough at old photographs, we're there in the background: healers in the trenches; Suffragettes; Bletchley Park oracles; land girls and resistance fighters. Why is it we help in times of crisis? We have a gift. We are stronger than Mundanes, plain and simple.
At the dawn of their adolescence, on the eve of the summer solstice, four young girls--Helena, Leonie, Niamh and Elle--took the oath to join Her Majesty's Royal Coven, established by Queen Elizabeth I as a covert government department. Now, decades later, the witch community is still reeling from a civil war and Helena is the reigning High Priestess of the organization. Yet Helena is the only one of her friend group still enmeshed in the stale bureaucracy of HMRC. Elle is trying to pretend she's a normal housewife, and Niamh has become a country vet, using her powers to heal sick animals. In what Helena perceives as the deepest betrayal, Leonie has defected to start her own more inclusive and intersectional coven, Diaspora. And now Helena has a bigger problem. A young warlock of extraordinary capabilities has been captured by authorities and seems to threaten the very existence of HMRC. With conflicting beliefs over the best course of action, the four friends must decide where their loyalties lie: with preserving tradition, or doing what is right.
Juno Dawson explores gender and the corrupting nature of power in a delightful and provocative story of magic and matriarchy, friendship and feminism. Dealing with all the aspects of contemporary womanhood, as well as being phenomenally powerful witches, Niamh, Helena, Leonie and Elle may have grown apart but they will always be bound by the sisterhood of the coven.
"Talk about a gut punch of a novel. …A provocative exploration of intersectional feminism, loyalty, gender and transphobia [that] invites readers into an intricately woven web of magic, friendship and power." -The Nerd Daily
A Discovery of Witches meets The Craft in this epic fantasy about a group of childhood friends who are also witches.
If you look hard enough at old photographs, we're there in the background: healers in the trenches; Suffragettes; Bletchley Park oracles; land girls and resistance fighters. Why is it we help in times of crisis? We have a gift. We are stronger than Mundanes, plain and simple.
At the dawn of their adolescence, on the eve of the summer solstice, four young girls--Helena, Leonie, Niamh and Elle--took the oath to join Her Majesty's Royal Coven, established by Queen Elizabeth I as a covert government department. Now, decades later, the witch community is still reeling from a civil war and Helena is the reigning High Priestess of the organization. Yet Helena is the only one of her friend group still enmeshed in the stale bureaucracy of HMRC. Elle is trying to pretend she's a normal housewife, and Niamh has become a country vet, using her powers to heal sick animals. In what Helena perceives as the deepest betrayal, Leonie has defected to start her own more inclusive and intersectional coven, Diaspora. And now Helena has a bigger problem. A young warlock of extraordinary capabilities has been captured by authorities and seems to threaten the very existence of HMRC. With conflicting beliefs over the best course of action, the four friends must decide where their loyalties lie: with preserving tradition, or doing what is right.
Juno Dawson explores gender and the corrupting nature of power in a delightful and provocative story of magic and matriarchy, friendship and feminism. Dealing with all the aspects of contemporary womanhood, as well as being phenomenally powerful witches, Niamh, Helena, Leonie and Elle may have grown apart but they will always be bound by the sisterhood of the coven.
Editorial Reviews
A Most Anticipated Novel of Summer '22 in The Washington Post | Goodreads | LitHub | PopSugar | Parade | Bustle | Tor | Paste | The Nerd Daily | SheReads | Gizmodo | Book Riot | LifeSavvy | Distractify
"There's so much humor and sadness here, so much tenderness and compassion and a deep love of women. The book draws a gentle thread through the visions we have for ourselves, the memories from which we build our relationships and the ways in which we comprehend the present, and then it pulls that thread taut. Superb and almost unbearably charming, Her Majesty's Royal Coven is a beautiful exploration of how foundational friendships age, and it expertly launches an exciting new trilogy." --The New York Times Book Review
"Her Majesty's Royal Coven is a shimmering, irresistible cauldron's brew of my favorite things: a thrilling, witchy plot; a diverse, compelling, and beautifully drawn cast; complex relationships with real heart; laugh-out-loud banter; and the kind of dazzling magic I wish existed. You won't be able to put it down."
-Lana Harper, New York Times bestselling author of Payback's a Witch
"Juno Dawson is at the top of her game in this vibrant and meticulous take on witchcraft. Her characteristic wit and grit shine through Her Majesty's Royal Coven, which paints a convincing picture of how magic might converge with the modern world."
--Samantha Shannon, New York Times bestselling author of The Bone Season and The Priory of the Orange Tree
"Talk about a gut punch of a novel. Her Majesty's Royal Coven is sure to have readers who love witchy stories- and the queerer, the better-salivating from the very first page...this book has more twists, betrayals and drama than a Desperate Housewives episode and I lived for that...A provocative exploration of intersectional feminism, loyalty, gender and transphobia, Dawson's
"There's so much humor and sadness here, so much tenderness and compassion and a deep love of women. The book draws a gentle thread through the visions we have for ourselves, the memories from which we build our relationships and the ways in which we comprehend the present, and then it pulls that thread taut. Superb and almost unbearably charming, Her Majesty's Royal Coven is a beautiful exploration of how foundational friendships age, and it expertly launches an exciting new trilogy." --The New York Times Book Review
"Her Majesty's Royal Coven is a shimmering, irresistible cauldron's brew of my favorite things: a thrilling, witchy plot; a diverse, compelling, and beautifully drawn cast; complex relationships with real heart; laugh-out-loud banter; and the kind of dazzling magic I wish existed. You won't be able to put it down."
-Lana Harper, New York Times bestselling author of Payback's a Witch
"Juno Dawson is at the top of her game in this vibrant and meticulous take on witchcraft. Her characteristic wit and grit shine through Her Majesty's Royal Coven, which paints a convincing picture of how magic might converge with the modern world."
--Samantha Shannon, New York Times bestselling author of The Bone Season and The Priory of the Orange Tree
"Talk about a gut punch of a novel. Her Majesty's Royal Coven is sure to have readers who love witchy stories- and the queerer, the better-salivating from the very first page...this book has more twists, betrayals and drama than a Desperate Housewives episode and I lived for that...A provocative exploration of intersectional feminism, loyalty, gender and transphobia, Dawson's
Readers Top Reviews
G
I was so excited to get my hands on Her Majesty's Royal Coven by Juno Dawson. I was craving a witchy book that would appeal to me now as an adult but that gave me the same excitement that I felt reading any witchy YA book as a kid. This book, however, exceeded my expectations. I loved the concept of witches involved in government and clear critique of J.K. Rowling . This book explores a lot of really important social topics like TERF ideology, white privilege, and lack of diversity in government and society. I went into this book expecting something witchy and humorous, but I left with a book that really touched me. I regularly put the book down and said to my boyfriend, "Holy shit I love this book." Wow. I so freaking excited for book 2! The book takes place 10 years after a civil war between witches (and warlocks), as 4 school friends come together to prevent a portent of apocalyptic proportions. I really don't want to give too much away because reading this book and discovering it was just an absolute pleasure.
booksnbagel
Her Majesty’s Royal Coven is the first book in a series of books following four witches who used to be childhood friends: Helena, Leonie, Elle, and Niamh. Their friendship started many years ago, when they were young girls and their group had one more member. Now, the women are in their thirties and on very different life paths - Elle is a housewife, Helena runs the biggest coven in the United Kingdom, Niamh works as a vet, and Leonie started a more diverse coven of her own - but a mysterious teenager with incredibly strong powers forces them back together. Who is the teenager and can a child be the source of more devastation than the world has ever seen? Or does everyone deserve a chance to prove themselves? I must admit that I went into this book with pretty average expectations. As much as I like fantasy, I rarely find 5 star reads in this particular genre. But Her Majesty’s Royal Coven absolutely blew me away - I loved the world building, the plot kept me hooked from the first pages and was so captivating that I simply devoured the 400+ pages in 3 days. The ending was so shocking and brilliant that it had me desperately googling for information about the publication date for the next part. But what I loved most about this book was how unapologetically queer it was. It’s difficult not to treat it as partially a response to J.K. Rowling and the rise of TERFism that has been plaguing the United Kingdom (transphobia is a huge part of the plot), and I can’t describe how satisfying it is to see this topic being the main focus of a novel. The magic in Dawson’s world is beautiful and diverse, although by no means is it a perfect world - it also struggles with issues such as racism or the already mentioned transphobia. But Dawson faces these issues head on: she’s not a Black woman so in the beginning I was a bit worried about how she would approach writing Leonie, a Black lesbian witch who has experienced the lack of inclusivity in her world, but I liked that Leonie’s storyline was important and left me wanting to see more of it. I was also happy to see that Dawson worked with a sensitivity reader, which is always a plus in my book. TLDR: Her Majesty’s Royal Coven is a brilliant, riveting fantasy book that is beautifully queer and diverse, and proud of it. It immediately became one of my favorite fantasy novels ever, and I truly can’t wait to read the next part!
Kaci McCoy
I absolutely adored this story and can't wait to see where it leads next. At no point did I have any idea where it was going or how it would end. If you can guess the ending, you may be a sentient yourself. Her Majesty's Royal Coven tells the tale of 5 friends (1 of which is unconscious) that grew close in their youth as they were first inducted into witch-dom but then, life happened. They each developed their own personalities, morals, political and personal stances. And, as it often does, these positions complicate their long-standing friendships. Now, as adults and healing from a magical civil war, they must decide how they will face the latest threat to their way of life: together, or opposed. The story is told from the perspectives of the 4 conscious friends and we see each grapple with their decisions and the impacts they will have. This was truly masterfully done. Dawson somehow told a complex story with fully developed characters, but with a pacing that pulled you forward - this is easily a one-sitting read. You see into the heads of each friend and see their motivations, however twisted and biased. The reader is put into the mind of people they likely don't agree with, and that discomfort is powerful. The blurb is absolutely accurate that this is a blend of ADOW and The Craft, though I'll note it leans more ADOW, in the best way. I expect even more action and strife further in the series. This was easily one of my favorite reads of this year, maybe of all I've read, and I readily recommend anyone looking for a fast-paced, action packed, politically intriguing tale, pick this up. **Thank you NetGalley and Penguin Group for the eARC**
Short Excerpt Teaser
CHAPTER ONE
Higher Science
Niamh
In her dreams, Conrad was still alive.
They were banal, domestic little scenes: she could still smell whatever dinner he'd cooked, and she'd be washing the dishes when he'd slide his arms around her waist. She'd feel the brush of his lips against the nape of her neck, The Archers low in the background. The oddest fragments returned to her: Sunday morning toast crumbs in bed coming back to haunt them on Sunday night; leaning over him to look out of the plane window as they were coming in to land at Dublin; walking the dog through Hardcastle Crags on a lazy Saturday afternoon - that smell of damp mulch and wild garlic.
Other times she'd simply dream she was listening to him breathe. He always fell asleep the second his head touched the pillow, like he had narcolepsy or something, and so Niamh, a fitful sleeper at best, would often fixate on his peaceful tide to quiet her chatty brain.
Awaking now, she reached for him, only to feel the cold side of the bed.
It was like pressing a thumb on a bruise every single time.
Why am I awake?
Her phone. Her phone was ringing. She remembered she was on call. Shite.
She kicked off the duvet and pushed a nest of auburn hair out of her face. Her phone vibrated on the nightstand, the display reading BARKER FARM. It was 00.53. Still the Witching Hour, she thought ruefully. A common misconception; any hour's grand for witching.
Niamh cleared her throat. She always thought it seemed unprofessional to sound like she'd been sleeping while on call, although it was rare for someone to phone this late.
‘Hello? Mrs Barker?'
‘Oh hello, Dr Kelly,' Joan said in her best telephone voice. ‘I do hope I didn't wake you?'
‘Not at all,' Niamh lied. ‘Are you OK out there?'
‘It's Pepper again . . .' No further explanation was necessary.The horse was old. Old and tired.
‘I'll be right over in ten,' Niamh said.
She threw on whatever mismatched clothes were piled on the back of her dresser chair, and pulled her hair into a ponytail. Tiger barely stirred from his basket as she tiptoed through the kitchen, offering only a nasal huff to express his irritation at being awakened. The Border Terrier was quite used to her nocturnal comings and goings.
It was a cold night for late March, not quite cold enough for a frost, but not far off either. A shame, she'd hoped to file winter away for another year. She wrapped a scarf– a gift knitted for her by one of her clients – around her neck as she walked. Niamh reached her Land Rover and, checking in the rear-view mirror, pressed her eyes with the pads of her thumbs, trying to look less bleary. It didn't entirely work, needless to say.
The Barker farm was only a short drive away, on the other side of Hebden Bridge. Niamh knew the route in her sleep, but thought it best to play the radio real loudly, just in case. The road from Heptonstall village towards Hebden Bridge town, in the gutter of the valley, was winding and perilously steep, slick with earlier rain. She drove carefully, windows open wide to wake herself up. Normally bustling, Hebden Bridge was almost eerily quiet. The pubs, bars and restaurants had kicked out hours ago and Market Street was dark. Niamh drove until the cottages and old mills opened out into the dark sprawl of Cragg Vale. On the horizon, the farmhouse was the
last light for miles.
The gates were open, ready, and she swung the Land Rover down the bumpy dirt track towards the riding school. Joan Barker was waiting, a wax jacket over her flannel pyjamas, tartan legs tucked into her wellies. Niamh turned off the engine and stepped out of the car, dragging her kit bag off the passenger seat as she went. ‘How's she doing, Joan?'
‘Oh, Dr Kelly, she's not in a good way.'
A familiar dread in her stomach. ‘Let's go take a look shall we?'
As soon as they were in the stable, Niamh didn't need to use any arcane skills to see Pepper was in a bad way. ‘Oh dear,' Niamh said, kneeling alongside the old Cleveland that rested in the hay, her breathing shallow.
‘Do you need anything, doctor?' Joan asked.
It might be best if Joan was out of the way for a moment or two. If she saw what was about to happen, Niamh would find it very difficult to explain. ‘I've everything need for Pepper, but you've not got a black coffee for me have you? It's some ways past my bedtime.'
‘Of course. I'll be back in two shakes.' Joan turned onher heel to head back to the farmhouse. It's true what they say about Yorkshire folks: they'd do a...
Higher Science
Niamh
In her dreams, Conrad was still alive.
They were banal, domestic little scenes: she could still smell whatever dinner he'd cooked, and she'd be washing the dishes when he'd slide his arms around her waist. She'd feel the brush of his lips against the nape of her neck, The Archers low in the background. The oddest fragments returned to her: Sunday morning toast crumbs in bed coming back to haunt them on Sunday night; leaning over him to look out of the plane window as they were coming in to land at Dublin; walking the dog through Hardcastle Crags on a lazy Saturday afternoon - that smell of damp mulch and wild garlic.
Other times she'd simply dream she was listening to him breathe. He always fell asleep the second his head touched the pillow, like he had narcolepsy or something, and so Niamh, a fitful sleeper at best, would often fixate on his peaceful tide to quiet her chatty brain.
Awaking now, she reached for him, only to feel the cold side of the bed.
It was like pressing a thumb on a bruise every single time.
Why am I awake?
Her phone. Her phone was ringing. She remembered she was on call. Shite.
She kicked off the duvet and pushed a nest of auburn hair out of her face. Her phone vibrated on the nightstand, the display reading BARKER FARM. It was 00.53. Still the Witching Hour, she thought ruefully. A common misconception; any hour's grand for witching.
Niamh cleared her throat. She always thought it seemed unprofessional to sound like she'd been sleeping while on call, although it was rare for someone to phone this late.
‘Hello? Mrs Barker?'
‘Oh hello, Dr Kelly,' Joan said in her best telephone voice. ‘I do hope I didn't wake you?'
‘Not at all,' Niamh lied. ‘Are you OK out there?'
‘It's Pepper again . . .' No further explanation was necessary.The horse was old. Old and tired.
‘I'll be right over in ten,' Niamh said.
She threw on whatever mismatched clothes were piled on the back of her dresser chair, and pulled her hair into a ponytail. Tiger barely stirred from his basket as she tiptoed through the kitchen, offering only a nasal huff to express his irritation at being awakened. The Border Terrier was quite used to her nocturnal comings and goings.
It was a cold night for late March, not quite cold enough for a frost, but not far off either. A shame, she'd hoped to file winter away for another year. She wrapped a scarf– a gift knitted for her by one of her clients – around her neck as she walked. Niamh reached her Land Rover and, checking in the rear-view mirror, pressed her eyes with the pads of her thumbs, trying to look less bleary. It didn't entirely work, needless to say.
The Barker farm was only a short drive away, on the other side of Hebden Bridge. Niamh knew the route in her sleep, but thought it best to play the radio real loudly, just in case. The road from Heptonstall village towards Hebden Bridge town, in the gutter of the valley, was winding and perilously steep, slick with earlier rain. She drove carefully, windows open wide to wake herself up. Normally bustling, Hebden Bridge was almost eerily quiet. The pubs, bars and restaurants had kicked out hours ago and Market Street was dark. Niamh drove until the cottages and old mills opened out into the dark sprawl of Cragg Vale. On the horizon, the farmhouse was the
last light for miles.
The gates were open, ready, and she swung the Land Rover down the bumpy dirt track towards the riding school. Joan Barker was waiting, a wax jacket over her flannel pyjamas, tartan legs tucked into her wellies. Niamh turned off the engine and stepped out of the car, dragging her kit bag off the passenger seat as she went. ‘How's she doing, Joan?'
‘Oh, Dr Kelly, she's not in a good way.'
A familiar dread in her stomach. ‘Let's go take a look shall we?'
As soon as they were in the stable, Niamh didn't need to use any arcane skills to see Pepper was in a bad way. ‘Oh dear,' Niamh said, kneeling alongside the old Cleveland that rested in the hay, her breathing shallow.
‘Do you need anything, doctor?' Joan asked.
It might be best if Joan was out of the way for a moment or two. If she saw what was about to happen, Niamh would find it very difficult to explain. ‘I've everything need for Pepper, but you've not got a black coffee for me have you? It's some ways past my bedtime.'
‘Of course. I'll be back in two shakes.' Joan turned onher heel to head back to the farmhouse. It's true what they say about Yorkshire folks: they'd do a...
