We’re thrilled to share an excerpt from The Crescent Moon Tearoom by Stacy Sivinski, a cozy fantasy novel out from Atria Books on October 1st.
Ever since the untimely death of their parents, Anne, Beatrix, and Violet Quigley have made a business of threading together the stories that rest in the swirls of ginger, cloves, and cardamon that lie at the bottom of their customers’ cups. Their days at the teashop are filled with talk of butterflies and good fortune intertwined with the sound of cinnamon shortbread being snapped by laced fingers.
That is, until the Council of Witches comes calling with news that the city Diviner has lost her powers, and the sisters suddenly find themselves being pulled in different directions. As Anne’s magic begins to develop beyond that of her sisters’, Beatrix’s writing attracts the attention of a publisher, and Violet is enchanted by the song of the circus—and perhaps a mischievous trapeze artist threatening to sweep her off her feet—it seems a family curse that threatens to separate the sisters is taking effect.
With dwindling time to rewrite their future and help three other witches challenge their own destinies, the Quigleys set out to bargain with Fate. But in focusing so closely on saving each other, will they lose sight of themselves?
The moments before the sisters opened the shop carried their own sort of magic.
After the crisp linen tablecloths had been draped over the tables and the cups and saucers arranged just so next to delicate silver spoons and napkins embroidered with miniature moon phases along the edges, the house, for one second of the day, became still. Although it enjoyed rattling the windows and adding an inch or so to the countertops just in time to catch something that Violet was about to drop to the floor, the walls of the Crescent Moon couldn’t help but pause and breathe in the beauty of the parlor.
That morning was no exception. As Anne slipped the last peony into a cracked teacup on a shelf near the coatrack and placed her hand on the brass lock to open their shop to the world, she waited and took in the calm anticipation of the scene alongside the house.
But all moments, no matter how satisfying, must move forward into the next.
Anne turned the lock, pulled open the door, and was instantly met by a flurry of elaborate feathered hats and colorful bustle skirts.
“Miss Quigley, I know that I’m usually seated at the table next to the fireplace, but today I must ask to have a chair near the window.”
“Miss Quigley, this might be a trifle inconvenient, but my niece has decided to join me this afternoon. Would it be possible to add a place at our table for her?”
“Miss Quigley, do you have any of those rose and elderflower biscuits left from my last visit? I’ve been dreaming of how they tasted all week!”
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The Crescent Moon Tearoom
Anne met these requests with good humor and a smile, ushering the crowd into the shop and guiding everyone to their proper places. As she continued to greet the first flush of customers, Anne spotted the bright white cotton of Peggy’s and Franny’s aprons out of the corner of her eye and knew that they were already flitting from one table to the next, greeting their guests and discussing the tea specials of the day.
“It’s quite busy in here this afternoon!” a familiar voice called from behind Anne’s shoulder just as she took in a breath that carried with it the scent of frankincense and sage. “Not that I’m at all surprised, of course.”
A bit of weight that Anne hadn’t realized she’d been carrying lifted when she turned and saw their mother’s oldest friend standing near the front door. Katherine McCulloch had been in the Quigley sisters’ lives long before Clara had heard the tinkling laughter of three little girls echoing from her future on one of her birthdays. And as they had grown older, their mother’s friend had become their own, so much so that she’d insisted they set the name Miss McCulloch among the other relics of their childhood and call her Katherine. Though her hair had started to whiten at the temples and her footsteps were now accompanied by the soft tap of a cane, Katherine’s smile and the way her eyes crinkled at the corners whenever she was genuinely pleased hadn’t changed an inkling since the sisters were young girls.
Though Katherine’s craft was casting curses, hexes, and blessings, she radiated a sense of safety that had offered a solid foundation for the sisters to grasp onto in the weeks following their parents’ deaths.
She’d been a regular guest at the Crescent Moon since the first day the sisters had turned the Open sign to face the street, though in recent months a seasonal demand for the tricks of her trade had kept her from visiting the shop. Her enchantments took some time to settle, and the witches of Chicago wanted to ensure certain requests were met well in advance of the flurry of social events that would take place toward the end of the year.
“I didn’t know that you were stopping by today,” Anne said with delight as she reached forward and placed her palm on the lace-covered hand that Katherine was using to hold her cane.
“You should have sent word this morning and I would have made sure that we saved your regular seat.”
Katherine preferred to sit in a worn velvet chair at the very back of the room. Anyone seated there didn’t have the best view and had to place their tea on a walnut end table, which was charmingly crafted but could only fit a small porcelain pot along with a cup and saucer and absolutely nothing else. But a portrait of the sisters’ mother hung just to the right of the chair, and Katherine liked to be able to glance up at it as she took sips of the tea that reminded her the most of her friend: a strong Darjeeling blend softened by a generous dash of vanilla essence.
“Think nothing of it,” Katherine said as she patted the top of Anne’s hand. “I’m going to an appointment at the other end of State Street and only wanted to pop in for a moment on my way. Though I can see you’re already preoccupied for the afternoon. Where are your sisters?”
Anne glanced about the room but didn’t see Violet’s or Beatrix’sred hair among the crowd. She sighed inwardly, thinking that they must still be tucked away in the study and kitchen, so wrapped up in their pastry dough and paperwork that they’d forgotten the time. Normally, Anne didn’t mind retrieving her sisters, but for whatever reason, that afternoon the idea of having to push them back on course made her eyebrows pinch together just a fraction.
Suddenly, Katherine’s hand stiffened, pressing Anne’s fingers together in an uncomfortable grip.
When Anne glanced down, she saw that Katherine was staring into her face with a stricken expression.
“Katherine?” Anne asked, concerned that her friend was feeling unwell. “Is something the matter?”
Instead of responding, the older woman leaned an inch or two closer to Anne, staring intently into her eyes.
A prickling sensation formed at the base of Anne’s skull and slowly trickled down to her toes, and she resisted the urge to shudder. She’d never experienced it herself before, but it was common knowledge that when a hex witch turned their inner eye to look upon your soul it felt like pins and needles.
Then suddenly the sound of porcelain crashing to the floorboards and a flurry of apologies echoed through the shop, breaking Katherine out of her trance.
She blinked exactly once and then shook her head, as if clearing away a foggy thought.
“Katherine?” Anne asked again, her stomach sinking as she noticed that her friend’s skin had taken on an ashy hue.
“It can’t be…,” Katherine murmured to herself as her mouth tightened into a firm line.
“What can’t be?” Anne asked. “What’s happened?”
Katherine gazed up at Anne, looking so unsure and hesitant that she almost seemed unrecognizable.
“I need to go,” Katherine finally said.
“Go?” Anne asked, desperate for the barest inkling of a hint as to what had caused Katherine to react so strongly. “But why?”
“May I call on you this evening?” Katherine replied in a rush, already pulling her scarf tighter around her neck and reaching a hand toward the handle on the front door. “After the shop’s closed for the day?”
“Of course,” Anne answered, more confused than ever. “But can’t you tell me what’s troubling you?”
“No, dear,” Katherine said simply as she opened the door and began to step into the chilly spring afternoon. “I’m afraid that wouldn’t be for the best.”
As Anne moved closer to the window and watched Katherine shuffle down the sidewalk, she couldn’t help but feel that something profound had just taken place.
If only she had the faintest idea of what it was.
Excerpted from The Crescent Moon Tearoom, Copyright © 2024 by Stacy Sivinski published by Atria Books, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
