Literature & Fiction
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The Witch Hunt
Deluxe edition with special embellishments on first printing only!
The lush and pulse-pounding sequel to the New York Times bestselling The Witch Haven "sparkles with magic" (Kirkus Reviews) as it follows Frances and her fellow witches to the streets of Paris where family secrets, lost loves, and dangerous powers await.
Months after the devastating battle between the Sons of St. Druon and the witches of Haxahaven, Frances has built a quiet, safe life for herself, teaching young witches and tending the garden within the walls of Haxahaven Academy. But one thing nags: her magic has begun to act strangely. When an opportunity to visit Paris arises, Frances jumps at the chance to go, longing for adventure and seeking answers about her power.
Once she and her classmates Maxine and Lena reach the vibrant streets of France, Frances learns that the spell she used to speak to her dead brother has had terrible consequences-the veil between the living and the dead has been torn by her recklessness, and a group of magicians are using the rift for their own gain at a horrifying cost.
To right this wrong, and save lives and her own magical powers, Frances must hunt down answers in the parlors of Parisian secret societies, the halls of the Louvre, and the tunnels of the catacombs. Her only choice is to team up with the person she swore she'd never trust again, risking further betrayal and her own life in the process.
The lush and pulse-pounding sequel to the New York Times bestselling The Witch Haven "sparkles with magic" (Kirkus Reviews) as it follows Frances and her fellow witches to the streets of Paris where family secrets, lost loves, and dangerous powers await.
Months after the devastating battle between the Sons of St. Druon and the witches of Haxahaven, Frances has built a quiet, safe life for herself, teaching young witches and tending the garden within the walls of Haxahaven Academy. But one thing nags: her magic has begun to act strangely. When an opportunity to visit Paris arises, Frances jumps at the chance to go, longing for adventure and seeking answers about her power.
Once she and her classmates Maxine and Lena reach the vibrant streets of France, Frances learns that the spell she used to speak to her dead brother has had terrible consequences-the veil between the living and the dead has been torn by her recklessness, and a group of magicians are using the rift for their own gain at a horrifying cost.
To right this wrong, and save lives and her own magical powers, Frances must hunt down answers in the parlors of Parisian secret societies, the halls of the Louvre, and the tunnels of the catacombs. Her only choice is to team up with the person she swore she'd never trust again, risking further betrayal and her own life in the process.
Editorial Reviews
"Smith casts the story back in time to a glamorous society full of magic and secrets, with cinematic prose and deeply developed characters readers can't help but root for...[a] fun and atmospheric conclusion." -- School Library Journal
Readers Top Reviews
Katie ArcherKO0913te
I loved the first book, and I wanted to love this one. It started out so promising. Focused on Frances’ friendship with Lena and Maxine. But then it was downhill from the moment they step off the boat in France.
mindshiftStephanie E
Supposedly a mystery to find out why her magic no longer works reliably or causes her painful backlash when it fails, much of this book is about traveling with a witch friend from a very, very wealthy family. The antagonist from the first book offers no sense of dread, and quickly becomes almost pitiful. He's still a conniving sociopath, but his obsession with the heroine leaves him more an annoyance than a threat. I could see the end coming a mile off.
Azyamarie
I loved this second book in this series. This book kept me guessing with all the twists and turns. I felt all the feels in this book. I was laughing, yelling, crying, and even heartbroken. I was not expecting what had happened towards the ending and it utterly destroyed me! I just want more and didn't want this story to end. You saw such growth from Frances from the first book and throughout the second book. I just absolutely loved this book.
Jessica.books.coffee
I absolutely loved this book and series. Always keeping me guessing on what’s going to happen next! Had some twists and turns I didn’t expect. This book took me on a emotional roller coaster. I laughed, I cried, I got angry. I felt it all! Even toyed my emotions in how I felt about a certain character. Didn’t expect that to happen! I kinda hope there is another book. If there is, i’m sure it’ll keep me in the edge of my seat like this one did! Loved the characters. A few I had a love/hate relationship with but that’s okay! Makes it even better.
LAJ
The Witch Hunt is just as good, if not better than The Witch Haven. We have most of the same characters as before, along with a few new ones. These new characters add depth to the story and suddenly everything that has happened in Frances' life makes sense. Frances travels to Paris with her friends to see if she is able to determine why her magic is suddenly going haywire. It is going to take all of them working together to unravel the mystery. Working with Finn may be the end of everyone. I enjoyed all the glimpses into the Paris underground. I feel like I have been on a mini magical vacation! It is sad to say goodbye to all the wonderful characters we have grown to love; Frances, Oliver, Lena, Maxine and yes, even Finn. I am happy with the ending and do not see a need for another book. Thank you to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for my eARC. All thoughts are my own
Short Excerpt Teaser
Chapter One
CHAPTER ONE
New York, June 1913
Nineteen sets of eyes are looking at me.
I should be used to it by now, the strange reverence in their gazes, but I don't think it's something that will ever feel normal.
I turn to face the blackboard instead. The piece of chalk in my hand snaps as I go to write the spell. I've pressed too hard again.
In and out, Frances, just breathe.
It's funny to think now, just how deeply I hated the Emotional Control classes I was forced to take my first year at Haxahaven Academy, how I resented Mrs. Li. She's become a trusted colleague, the deep breathing exercises have become a habit, and I have grown steadier right along with them. There's a joke in there, probably. Something about growing up.
I do feel it sometimes, growing up as the days pass, like a flower tilting almost imperceptibly toward the warmth of the sun. At least I do in the moments where it doesn't feel like I'm pretending.
It feels like pretending now, standing in front of a class, my class. Nineteen baby witches, all looking to me to learn the basics of elemental and magical manipulation. The magic isn't complicated-simple spells to unlock doors or float something across the room. But my broad-shouldered stance and unwavering voice are all playacting.
"Is everything all right, Miss Hallowell?"
Of course, it's Bernice who asks, the little teacher's pet. She's sitting in the front row, her hands folded politely in her lap, her freckled face looking up at me. She's the kind of perfect student I never could manage to be.
"Everything is fine, just lost in thought. And it's Frances, Bernice. Please." I'm barely their teacher. Just last year I was sitting in the same seat she was. It's only out of necessity that I'm standing in front of the blackboard now.
Headmistress Florence called me into her office last fall to ask for "a favor." I think she thought it would be good for me to take on some responsibility. I overheard her wife, Ann, tell her it might help me to stop moping around the library so much.
I took umbrage with that. Sure, I sometimes sulk. I rarely mope.
Bernice nods with the wide-eyed enthusiasm of a golden retriever. You'd never know her power was awakened just three months ago after her mother passed.
"Have you all been practicing?"
Their nineteen little heads nod at me.
"Very good then, please turn to page thirty-eight in your fall semester packets."
Copying spells down from the The Elemental, the book Lena, Maxine, and I found in the woods, what feels like a lifetime ago, was no easy task. In the end, it was Oliver who did it. In his neat, university student penmanship, he created a curriculum from the disorganized spell book. For all the trouble it once caused, the magic inside of its pages proved worth knowing. At least some of the spells.
On page thirty-eight my students find, in bullet points and careful diagrams, instructions for how to spark a small blue flame between their thumb and forefinger.
We've been working on object manipulation for the past few weeks, and moving on to elemental magic has become one of my favorite things about being a teacher.
I talk them through the spell, then release them to try it themselves.
Bernice furrows her brow as she snaps her fingers over and over again.
"Snapping isn't part of the spell, Bernice," Bess whispers next to her. In the next moment, a light pops into being between Bess's fingers. She shouts and stands so quickly she topples over her chair, right into Georgia, who falls directly into Charlotte's lap. The movement bumps Yael's arm, sending her flame colliding with Berta, whose cape immediately catches fire.
Yael shrieks, then uses the small cup of water I've placed on everyone's desk for this exact reason.
No one is any worse for wear except for the hem of poor Berta's cape, which drips sadly onto the floor.
Once the chaos has calmed down and all the chairs have been righted, the ruckus starts right up again as Theo in the back row creates a spark of light and holds it too close to their desk, burning a hole right into the wood.
I can't help but smile at the scene.
The first semester I taught this lesson, no fewer than three students burst into tears. Another went back up to her room, determined to practice, and burnt her curtains to a crisp.
I might feel like barely a teacher, but there is nothing more rewarding as an instructor than communicating to my students, Yes, that gia...
CHAPTER ONE
New York, June 1913
Nineteen sets of eyes are looking at me.
I should be used to it by now, the strange reverence in their gazes, but I don't think it's something that will ever feel normal.
I turn to face the blackboard instead. The piece of chalk in my hand snaps as I go to write the spell. I've pressed too hard again.
In and out, Frances, just breathe.
It's funny to think now, just how deeply I hated the Emotional Control classes I was forced to take my first year at Haxahaven Academy, how I resented Mrs. Li. She's become a trusted colleague, the deep breathing exercises have become a habit, and I have grown steadier right along with them. There's a joke in there, probably. Something about growing up.
I do feel it sometimes, growing up as the days pass, like a flower tilting almost imperceptibly toward the warmth of the sun. At least I do in the moments where it doesn't feel like I'm pretending.
It feels like pretending now, standing in front of a class, my class. Nineteen baby witches, all looking to me to learn the basics of elemental and magical manipulation. The magic isn't complicated-simple spells to unlock doors or float something across the room. But my broad-shouldered stance and unwavering voice are all playacting.
"Is everything all right, Miss Hallowell?"
Of course, it's Bernice who asks, the little teacher's pet. She's sitting in the front row, her hands folded politely in her lap, her freckled face looking up at me. She's the kind of perfect student I never could manage to be.
"Everything is fine, just lost in thought. And it's Frances, Bernice. Please." I'm barely their teacher. Just last year I was sitting in the same seat she was. It's only out of necessity that I'm standing in front of the blackboard now.
Headmistress Florence called me into her office last fall to ask for "a favor." I think she thought it would be good for me to take on some responsibility. I overheard her wife, Ann, tell her it might help me to stop moping around the library so much.
I took umbrage with that. Sure, I sometimes sulk. I rarely mope.
Bernice nods with the wide-eyed enthusiasm of a golden retriever. You'd never know her power was awakened just three months ago after her mother passed.
"Have you all been practicing?"
Their nineteen little heads nod at me.
"Very good then, please turn to page thirty-eight in your fall semester packets."
Copying spells down from the The Elemental, the book Lena, Maxine, and I found in the woods, what feels like a lifetime ago, was no easy task. In the end, it was Oliver who did it. In his neat, university student penmanship, he created a curriculum from the disorganized spell book. For all the trouble it once caused, the magic inside of its pages proved worth knowing. At least some of the spells.
On page thirty-eight my students find, in bullet points and careful diagrams, instructions for how to spark a small blue flame between their thumb and forefinger.
We've been working on object manipulation for the past few weeks, and moving on to elemental magic has become one of my favorite things about being a teacher.
I talk them through the spell, then release them to try it themselves.
Bernice furrows her brow as she snaps her fingers over and over again.
"Snapping isn't part of the spell, Bernice," Bess whispers next to her. In the next moment, a light pops into being between Bess's fingers. She shouts and stands so quickly she topples over her chair, right into Georgia, who falls directly into Charlotte's lap. The movement bumps Yael's arm, sending her flame colliding with Berta, whose cape immediately catches fire.
Yael shrieks, then uses the small cup of water I've placed on everyone's desk for this exact reason.
No one is any worse for wear except for the hem of poor Berta's cape, which drips sadly onto the floor.
Once the chaos has calmed down and all the chairs have been righted, the ruckus starts right up again as Theo in the back row creates a spark of light and holds it too close to their desk, burning a hole right into the wood.
I can't help but smile at the scene.
The first semester I taught this lesson, no fewer than three students burst into tears. Another went back up to her room, determined to practice, and burnt her curtains to a crisp.
I might feel like barely a teacher, but there is nothing more rewarding as an instructor than communicating to my students, Yes, that gia...
