In fairy-tales witches always wear those absurd black pointed hats, black cloaks and ride on broomsticks, to a moon made up of green cheese.

This is not a fairy-tale, this book is about those extravagent, entrancing and real witches of East Lulworth. Along with those extraordinary, enchanting Druids from the realm of the Eggardon Hundreds ; the most formidable and heavenly inspired celestial pilots of the Light Ages. Who with their discernment realised in a flash : that  the Lulworth Triangle is far more mysterious than the Bermuda Triangle ever has been, or is ever likely to be. It’s a complete and utter myth by comparison.