Witch Wood: The Harvesting Series Book 4
Page 8
I pushed the wheelbarrow past the hedge but stopped when I heard something. This time, I was sure I heard voices. There was no doubt.
“This way,” a male voice said.
My heart started slamming in my chest. How had someone gotten onto the property?
I heard a child crying.
“Almost there,” the voice said once more.
I set the wheelbarrow down and picked up the shovel. It was too late to run. I’d have to face whoever they were alone.
A moment later, a tall man with dark hair came around the corner of the hedge. A red-haired woman followed behind him, holding hands with two small girls. A group clustered behind the man.
“What is it?” I heard a woman with a southern accent ask. She appeared from behind the man. Her long braid lay on her chest, and she was carrying an enormous wrench.
They all stopped when they saw me.
The man studied me, then said, “You don’t need to wear that. The air isn’t contaminated.”
“I know,” I said, pulling the gas mask off. “It’s just for the lime.”
“Where are we?” I heard someone ask, and from the back of the crowd emerged a woman with long, dark hair. She was carrying a sword. She turned to the man. “I need to go back now. How can I get back? Jamie…”
The man shook his head and gently set his hand on her shoulder. “First, we’ll take shelter, decide what we can and should do,” he said then turned to me. “You must be the ward. Is her majesty here?” he asked me.
“Her majesty? What…who are you people? How did you get onto the property?”
Just then, Bastet appeared from the darkness. The man’s eyes went immediately to the cat, and he inclined his head.
“Your highness,” he said.
I looked at Bastet.
What the hell?
But then I saw the aura around the cat shift, grow larger, brighter, until it flashed with blinding white light. A moment later, Bastet was gone and Madame Knightly stood beside me. She coughed lightly then adjusted her gown.
“Tristan,” she said.
Shocked, I turned and looked at the group, my eyes meeting those of the dark-haired woman carrying the sword. She took a deep breath and stepped forward.
“I’m Layla,” she said, nodding to Madame Knightly.
“I am Madame Knightly, and this is Amelia.”
I turned and looked at Madame Knightly who was smiling at me.
“Uh…” I stammered, looking back at Layla. What in the world could I say? “Welcome,” I said at last. “Welcome to Witch Wood.”
Thank You
I hope you enjoyed Witch Wood: A Harvesting Series Novella.
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Thank you!
About the Witching Hour Collection
Good witch. Bad witch. White magic. Black magic. Kitchen magic. Pick your potion. Ready for Halloween? The authors of the Blazing Indie Collective, who brought you the Falling in Deep Collection, are brewing up something new. Check out all the novellas in The Witching Hour Collection coming October 2015:
Melanie Karsak: Witch Wood
Claire C Riley: Twisted Magic
Eli Constant: Sleeping in the Forest of Shadows
Elizabeth Watasin: Charm School: The Wrecking Faerie
Erin Hayes: I'd Rather be a Witch
Carrie Wells: Playing with Magic
Evan Winters: The Witch of Bracken’s Hollow
Minerva Lee: Spun Gold
Blaire Edens: The Witch of Roan Mountain
Poppy Lawless: The Cupcake Witch
Join our coven: Join The Witching Hour Collection Newsletter
Acknowledgements
With many thanks to Becky Stephens, Staci Hart, Nadege Richards, the Airship Stargazer Ground Crew, the Blazing Indie Collective, and my beloved family.
About the Author
Melanie Karsak is the author of the bestselling series The Airship Racing Chronicles, The Harvesting Series, and numerous other works. She grew up in rural northwestern Pennsylvania and earned a Master's degree in English from Gannon University. A steampunk connoisseur, Shakespeare nerd, white elephant collector, and zombie whisperer, the author currently lives in Florida with her husband and two children. She is an Instructor of English at Eastern Florida State College.
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Email: karsakmelanie@gmail.com
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The Wrecking Faerie by Elizabeth Watastin
Sneak Peek
Chapter One
Where have all the monsters gone?
On the shrouded edges of the Earth, far from the everyday and mundane, the Twilight World lay, ancient haven to the magical and monstrous. Ghost ships flew over midnight oceans, and forgotten kingdoms rose and fell, hidden in valleys or atop high mountains. Creatures roamed the forests, and in the modest yet modern towns that dotted the forest interior, Other-beings lived and worked.
In one such town, called Little Salem, the nights belonged to their wild children. Right then, raucous teens raised hell around a bonfire on the Enchanting Forest’s fringes. Motorcycles roared, and their leather-clad riders whooped. Tail pipes rumbled and spewed, to the dismay of watching, ancient neighbors.
Three females of the faerie-kind lounged, hidden by the forest, and viewed the rambunctious display.
“Ugh, diesel,” the eldest commented. She was crowned in ivy and wore a golden girdle on her hips.
“Must they burn such things in their loud machines?” the second eldest said.
“Their silly machines annoy me so!” the youngest exclaimed, and she wore plumeria blossoms in her long hair.
The eldest smiled down at her faerie sisters. “Yet they are mere noise. They can do no harm to such as we.”
“Certainly! We are faeries of the Court,” the youngest said, smug. “They are mere children, behind our ken.”
“No comparison,” the middle faerie added and laughed.
The foliage rustled, and a fourth faerie burst through.
“Hush! Our dark sister approaches!” she warned.
The faeries scattered, fleeing deeper into the forest. Leaves stirred in their wake. A bared foot landed on the forest floor the faeries had deserted.
Two winged sprites looked on, clinging to a bush’s branches.
“Ha! What can startle the mighty Daughters of the Court so?” one asked the other.
“Their dark sister, of course!” the other replied.
“Afraid she’ll add ’em ta her long list o’ conquests, yeah?”
The sprites burst into loud laughter and flew away.
Fairer Than the Fairest of all Faeries stepped forwards, flanked by more sprites, circling and smirking. Small white flowers dotted her tumble of thick red hair, and around her hips, a gold girdle hung, heavy with medallions and large canine teeth. Her heavy-lidded gaze slid to what her fellow faeries had been watching. A pretty girl’s platinum blonde hair shined in the bonfire light. Fairer Than turned to face the fire and rested a forearm against a tree.
***
Bunny Baker, good teen witch, and her greaser girlfriend, the vampire Dean, ignored the rowdiness, eyes only for each other. Bunny was seventeen and a daughter of a seventh daughter, who right then had only adoring eyes for her sweetheart. They’d met at one of Spooky’s cemetery fests, where Dean had rode in with her motorcycle gang. Wearing a leather jacket, dungarees, and motorcycle boots, Dean sported a slicked-back ducktail and a fanged grin that made Bunny’s heart thump. When young warlocks picked a fight and rioting ensued, Bunny chose to side with Dean. As a
result, she’d forgotten that she’d gone to Spooky’s hoping to meet a faerie girl. She gained a wickedly sweet vampire, instead.
“Dean, do you have to go to the vampire’s ball tomorrow night?” Bunny pouted as she leaned against her girlfriend and her bike. “I want you to come to the Queer Youth meeting with me.”
“Baby, I can’t, and believe me, I’ve tried to get out of it.” Dean grinned, a toothpick between her teeth. “Why don’t you come to the ball with me?”
“Sure.” Bunny smiled. “Only if you wear the ball gown.”
Dean reached up and plucked Bunny’s pointed witch hat from her head. Bunny pulled Dean’s toothpick from her mouth.
“Hey,” Dean said. She brought Bunny around to press her back against her front.
“I’ll pass,” Bunny said as she enjoyed Dean’s embrace. She put the toothpick to her own mouth. “I don’t want to be the first witch ever to crash the vampires’ most exclusive, biggest bash in Little Salem. They may tear a girl like me into little pieces.”
“Naw, werewolves do that sort of thing,” Dean assured. “Vampires know how to treat a pretty witch.”
Bunny turned and looked up at Dean from beneath her lashes. “Now do they?”
“I believe I’m an authority on that subject.”
“I guess I’ll be all right by myself at Q-Youth,” Bunny sighed.
“I’m missing you already, Bunny,” Dean said.
They kissed.
***
Mugg, the punk sprite, hovered near the oblivious couple, beating his ragged wings. Wearing leather pants and steel-toed boots, he idly scratched the elbow of his tattooed arm, wondering when the kissing would end. The kids’ discussion, he decided, was over for the time being. He flew back to the forest and to his mistress, his mohawk fluttering.
***
Fairer Than watched the blonde witch speak to her love interest, a vampire both androgynous and rebellious in appearance. Outlined by firelight, the witch’s curves were evident in a mid-length pencil skirt with blouse and short-sleeved jacket, her pointed hat still in the vampire’s grip. On the girl’s neck was a small bandage, covering a vampire’s bite.
Fairer Than stared at the platinum shine of the girl’s locks, its length just off the shoulder. A curling wave of hair fell to the side of the girl’s warm and receptive, hazel-eyed gaze.
Mugg zipped across the clearing, bypassing boisterous bikers. He alighted on Fairer Than’s shoulder.
“Her name is Bunny,” he whispered.
The corner of Fairer Than’s mouth crept up.
“Lovely,” she said.
About the Author
Elizabeth Watasin is the author of the Gothic steampunk series The Dark Victorian, The Elle Black Penny Dreads, the sci-fi noir Darquepunk series, and the creator/artist of the indie comics series Charm School, which was nominated for a Gaylactic Spectrum Award. A twenty year veteran of animation and comics, she lives in Los Angeles with her black cat named Draw, busy bringing readers uncanny heroines in adventuress tales. Follow the news of her latest projects at A-Girl Studio.
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Table of Contents
Witch Wood
The Harvesting Series Reading Order
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Thank You
About the Witching Hour Collection
Acknowledgements
About the Author
The Wrecking Faerie by Elizabeth Watastin
Table of Contents