Being a teen witch is no sitcom with canned laugh tracks. It’s especially hard when your crush’s family is old school burn the witches at the stake type.
Leah decides not to mention her membership in the black hat society if it will score her points with Dylan. If only life was that easy.
Best friend Stella pulls her in to a tolerance project that tests Leah’s beliefs by sending her hurtling through time where people really do burn witches. If that isn’t enough, everyone back in times old and smelly recognize her as the local mean girl.
Fast thinking, luck, and whole lot of magick might get her out of her current dilemma; then again, it might not.
No sooner had they scooted into the back seat and slammed the taxi door than her grandmother turned to her with a knowing look. “Come into your powers, have you?”
“Nana, please.” She angled her head to the cab driver, hoping to convey her need for privacy. A snort answered her pleas as they both settled into the tobacco-smoke-tainted back seat. Wasn’t there supposed to be some sort of smoking ban in public places? Then again, it might have been her. Turning her head, she sniffed the shoulder of her uniform shirt again. Still smelled like wood smoke, pine trees, and that disgusting fish she’d eaten. How could that be?
Her grandmother leaned over and sniffed her clothes, too. A thoughtful look crossed her face as she pointed to Leah’s ankles, which were caked with mud and leaves. Where had that come from and why hadn’t the principal noticed? Nana said nothing, honoring Leah’s desire not to talk publicly.
Looking out the cab window, Leah noted the brown grass and the withered leaves on the trees. The drought hadn’t dealt well with the area. It took rain usually to make mud. She picked a small green leaf from her mud-encrusted legs. Twirling it between two fingers, she knew it hadn’t come from here.
Where would she have encountered mud and green leaves in the few short steps from her father’s sedan to the school doors? The flight through the woods had garnered the mud and leaves. It had been real, not a vision or daydream. If her run through the woods with Sabina, Henry, and Margaret had happened, then that meant the man in the throne-like chair existed. Remembering the man’s crazed eyes and hate-filled voice caused her to shiver. How could she stop this?
Grandmother Always Knows by Rayna Noire
Luna rattled the ice in her cocktail while she squinted at the wall clock. The long hand had only made it to the four. Seriously, only twenty minutes had passed. The Halloween party was the brainchild of her employer’s wife.
As a witch, she wasn’t into Halloween parties with the cheesy costumes and heavy drinking. Nope, she spent the season in contemplation or possibly divination. When the veil between the two worlds was the thinnest, her deceased grandmother spoke to her. She could have sworn Nana told her she’d meet her soul mate soon. Her granny also warned her that things weren’t as they seemed.
Calvin from HR weaved around the people to reach her. Normally, she liked the man, but his drunken leer announced his current state.
“Hey Luna, why don’t the two of us go outside and look at the stars?”
Her immediate response was to brush him off, but despite his soaked state he might remember her rudeness. “It won’t work. Too much light pollution to see anything.”
The man blinked owlishly at her, making her wonder if he understood anything she had said. Luna put up a hand. “Oh, it’s my girlfriend. I need to talk to her. Pardon.” She strolled away, questioning if Calvin could be her soul mate. She shook her head. Couldn’t be.
There were several unfamiliar faces in the crowded great room. At least no one was wearing costumes. She should be grateful for that since people dressing up as witches irritated her. Not sure if evil witch or sexy witch annoyed her more, since both were stereotypes.
A gorgeous man nodded at her and smiled. Well, well, the night suddenly looked promising. The people parted enough to reveal more of the tall, handsome…. priest. The former promising man was the final straw. Time to go home and see if she could reach Nana since she must have misunderstood the message. It could have been what she had wanted to hear as opposed to what she needed to hear.
Luna pivoted and made a beeline for the door.
She threw a backward glance over her shoulder, noticing the priest heading her way. She blinked. Obviously, the clergy was more aggressive these days. He was going to either ask her when she last attended mass or ask if she had any sins to confess.
Luna managed to slip outside where she could see her namesake, the moon. The door slammed, revealing the priest had followed her.
“Hey,” she held up her hands, “Not interested. Witch here.” Usually, that line scared most away, except the very drunk.
An amused expression crossed the man’s face as he strolled closer. “Glad to hear it. I’m not a priest.” He held out his hand. A silver pentacle ring on his pinkie glimmered in the dim light.
Luna took his hand. He wrapped his fingers around her palm and held on. An energy flowed between them, unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. She knew this man; at least her soul recognized him. “That’s a relief.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “My name’s Rowan and yours is Luna.”
“How did you know?” Perhaps he could read minds.
“Ah, well, I think my brother, your boss, set us up. He knew I hadn’t much luck finding a nice Pagan woman.”
Rowan laughed, then winked. “My brother can be a bit of a practical joker, but he has a good heart.”
Grandmother knew all along.
About the Author:
Rayna Noire is an author and a historian. The desire to uncover the truth behind the original fear of witches led her to the surprising discovery that people believed in magick in some form up to 150 years ago. A world that believed the impossible could happen and often did must have been amazing. With this in mind, Ms. Noire taps into this dimension, shapes it into stories about Pagan families who really aren’t that different from most people. They do go on the occasional adventures and magick happens.