Payback's a Witch (The Witches of Thistle Grove #1)(88)

I owe so much to my family for each book I write, but especially this one. Thank you to my brother and parents for their enduring support; especially my mother, whose great sacrifice—though she’d never call it that—in taking care of my son basically night and day while I wrote this gave me the freedom to run wild.

And thanks to Caleb, who gave me and our little lion-bear Leo stability in some very turbulent times, often at great expense to himself.

I live in fear of forgetting someone crucial when writing acknowledgments; if I’ve managed to mess it up this time, please know that I do appreciate you, and the omission is COVID’s fault and not mine.





READERS GUIDE




   Payback’s a Witch


LANA HARPER





Questions for Discussion





At the very beginning of the book, when Emmy returns to Thistle Grove, she dismissively refers to the town’s magical beauty as “so damn extra”—and her own magicless life in Chicago as real, the life she’s chosen for herself. Do you believe Emmy’s value judgments about either place? Do you think she believes them herself?



     When she first comes home, Emmy is a little surprised by her mother’s bluntness in their initial conversation. She then compares her family’s arm’s-length style of relating to one another to the very different bonds that exist between the Avramovs, Thorns, and Blackmoores. Which of these relationship styles reminds you the most of your own family?



     Do you think Emmy truly comes home only because of the pull of tradition and the impressive parental guilt trip—or is the truth more complicated?



     The families have dramatically different magical abilities: the Thorns are green-magic healers, the Blackmoores showy illusionists, the Avramovs diviners and necromancers with one foot on either side of the veil, the Harlows recordkeepers whose tea is always the perfect temperature. Whose magic would you most like to have? And least?



     Over the course of the book, Emmy experiences a lot of guilt for the way she interacted with her best friend, Linden, and her parents after she left town. Given the circumstances, do you think Emmy did wrong by those she left behind? Would you have behaved any differently?



     What do you think of Emmy’s experience with being the Arbiter, and the magic of the mantle? Do you think you would enjoy being immersed in such intoxicating power, or does the idea make you uneasy?



     What do you think of Elias Harlow’s decision not to share with his younger descendants the magical role the Harlows play in Thistle Grove? Would you have done things differently in his shoes?



     Would you rather be a Victor of the Gauntlet, or, like Emmy’s family, the voice of Thistle Grove? How do you think Emmy will combine her two roles? How might they complement or conflict with each other?



     All things considered, do you think Emmy’s relationship with Gareth was the worst thing to happen in her life—or possibly, the best? How might her life have looked otherwise, had the romance between them never happened?



     Why do you think Talia chose to cede her wreath to Emmy? Do you think this was the right decision on her part? How do you think Talia’s mother, Elena Avramov, feels about her daughter’s course of action?



     Emmy and her cousin Delilah have a complicated relationship. Do you think one of them is more at fault than the other? Do you have any similarly fraught relationships in your life?



     Do you think it’s likely that Emmy will spend much time in Chicago in the future? How do you think she and Talia will navigate splitting their time between Thistle Grove and the city?



     If you could visit just one of the Thistle Grove venues described in the book—consider the Honeycake Orchards, The Bitters, Castle Camelot, Lady’s Lake, Tintagel, and Tomes & Omens to get you started—what would it be, and why?





   There’s more to come in Thistle Grove. Keep reading for a preview of

   From Bad to Cursed

   by Lana Harper.

   Coming soon from Jove.





1





Deviously Done


The thing no one tells you about summoning demons is, sometimes you have to think outside the box.

I should know; I’ve been calling them up into my circles since I was a kid. My mother even encouraged it, as a slightly safer alternative to a way riskier burgeoning fascination with elder gods. (PSA, if you don’t want your daughter developing an interest in the gnarlier chthonic entities before she can even ride a bike, maybe don’t read her Lovecraft at bedtime. Seems obvious enough, right?)

The books go on about how summonings are supposed to be these disciplined, rule-bound affairs—and most of the time, they are, if you know what’s good for you. The truth is, if you take sensible precautions, it’s not nearly as dangerous as people think. And such a rush, too; the daemonfolk are interesting as hell, pun intended. Sometimes they’re inclined to share juicy secrets or ancient spells, the kind you won’t find in even the oldest, dustiest grimoires. Other times they’re so gorgeous it breaks your heart, or so horrifying that even a quick glimpse before you banish them is enough to leave you panting, heart battering against your ribs, blood boiling through your veins while your whole skin rolls with chills.