by Unknown
His men held Joanna down upon her bed as a black-robed man peered into her eyes, bled her from her arms and legs, placed leeches upon her temples, and found no solution.
“She seems to be bent upon self-harm,” said the court physician to King Stephen. “There is little else I can do.”
“I do not wish myself harm!” Joanna insisted, struggling against the strong hands restraining her, begging for them to listen to her and believe. “The queen is alive and drives me to my death!”
The physician took Stephen aside. “She raves. Perhaps a priest should be called to hear her confession, in case she has been possessed by an evil spirit,” the physician suggested.
“Please,” Joanna whispered. “Please, do. Anything!” she begged.
But the priest merely looked at her and shook his head. He anointed her. He assured her he had chased out the demons and that she was now safe. But as he touched her forehead, the walls of the room ran red. Blood pooled upon the floor, ankle-deep. The face of the queen was everywhere. “Jooooannnna!” she cried. “Jooooaaaannnna!” she said a thousand times.
Joanna screamed for help.
“Please,” King Stephen begged, kneeling at her side. “Please return to me.” He took her hand tenderly, and for the first time, she saw love in his eyes.
And she knew what she must do to save him.
That night, it was not in a dream that Joanna walked up the steps. It was not by the force of a dead queen that her feet carried her to the battlement. She looked and waited until the guard had already passed by. And then, when all was silent, she stepped from the top of the wall out into the quiet.
As the ground rushed toward her, she heard the queen’s cry.
As the pain, the blackness, the end engulfed her… she woke to find herself in a room exactly like her bedchambers.
Joanna stood, her heart broken, knowing that she had not escaped. She walked over to the mirror. But this time, there was no reflection. Instead, it was like a window peering into a room, a room that seemed to be a mirror image of the one she now found herself in. It was her own room. The Queen’s chambers.
And then Stephen entered.
He did not seem to see her, and so Joanna pounded upon the glass to get his attention. “Stephen! Stephen, can you hear me?”
But he did not turn. He did not acknowledge her. He just walked into the room with a girl who looked just like Joanna on his arm. She was dressed in a wedding gown of gold and white. Tenderly, he kissed her cheek before leading her to the bed.
Just then, Joanna saw something by her left hand. A note upon the dressing table, the note from her uncle that the advisor passed to her a lifetime ago, which she had cast down. After all this time, it still waited. But the unintelligible words on the front were suddenly not just scribbles. In her uncle’s looping scrawl, it said, “Joanna, you shall know when to open this.”
She picked it up and broke her uncle’s seal and read: “And so vengeance for your father’s death is meted out. His curse shall break King Stephen. All that ever touch his heart with love shall be driven mad and taken from him. And so I thank you for fulfilling your duty, sweet niece. Your affectionate uncle.”
The bride in King Stephen’s bed looked over at her in the mirror and her eyes widened in fear as she saw Joanna.
And Joanna knew her duty. She screamed out in warning as she pounded on the glass, “Stay away!”
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ALSO BY KATE DANLEY
McDougall Previews Award for Best Fantasy Book of the Year
WINNER - 1st Place Fantasy Book, Reader Views Reviewers Choice Awards
Before Romeo & Juliet, there was... Queen Mab.
When Faunus, the god of daydreams, breaks the heart of Queen Mab, revenge can be the only answer. Using the most powerful families in Verona, they wage their war against one another, and place their final bets upon the heads of two youths, one named Romeo and the other named Juliet.
But when Queen Mab falls in love with a gentleman named Mercutio, everything changes and she will do anything, even if it means destroying the world, to save him. Will it be enough to stop the tragedy? Or only spur it forward to its terrible end?
Weaving Shakespeare's original text into a dark, epic fantasy, fans of The Woodcutter will love this latest retelling by USA TODAY bestselling author Kate Danley. Experience the romance of Romeo & Juliet from a different point of view - through the eyes of the bringer of dreams... Queen Mab.
http://www.katedanley.com/mab.html
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
USA TODAY bestselling author Kate Danley is a twenty year veteran of stage and screen with 300+ credits to her name and a B.S. in theatre from Towson University. She was one of four students to be named a Maryland Distinguished Scholar in the Arts.
Her debut novel, The Woodcutter (published by 47North), was honored with the Garcia Award for the Best Fiction Book of the Year, the 1st Place Fantasy Book in the Reader Views Literary Awards, and the winner of the Sci-Fi/Fantasy category in the Next Generation Indie Book Awards. Her book Queen Mab received the McDougall Previews Award for Best Fantasy Book of the Year and 1st Place Fantasy Book in the Reader Views Reviewers Choice Awards. Her Maggie MacKay: Magical Tracker series has been optioned for film and television.
She was the winner of the Panowski Playwriting Award for her 1930s screwball comedy Building Madness. Her plays have been produced internationally. Her screenplay Fairy Blood won 1st Place in the Breckenridge Festival of Film Screenwriting Competition in the Action/Adventure Category and her screenplay American Privateer was a 2nd Round Choice in the Carl Sautter Memorial Screenwriting Competition.
Her projects The Playhouse, Dog Days, Sock Zombie, SuperPout, and Sports Scents can be seen in festivals and on the internet. She trained in on-camera puppetry with Mr. Snuffleupagus and played the head of a 20-foot dinosaur on an NBC pilot.
She lost on Hollywood Squares.
www.katedanley.com
SIT A SPELL
H.M. MCQUEEN
Random thefts are rampant in Whisper, Georgia and Witch Abbie Adams, the owner of Sit A Spell Tea shop decides to step in and help investigate. After all with the Whisper Festival about to take place, the town doesn't need this hanging over their collective heads.
It's more complicated than she expects, as everyone seems to be hiding something. From the new hunky veterinarian to the town's mayor.
Just as Abbie gets close to finding out who the random thief is, she becomes the prime suspect.
Copyright © 2017 by H.M. McQueen All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
1
T he aroma of freshly baked cinnamon scones made Abbie Adams' mouth water upon entering her small shop, Sit A Spell Teahouse in downtown Whisper, Georgia, a town of mostly witches and mediums sprinkled with a human or two.
Her best friend and partner Becka stood behind the counter, her pretty cherubic face flushed with flour on her cheeks and in her red curls. "Hey Abbie, you gotta hear this."
"Let me put down this heavy box first.” Abbie called out heading to a side door so she could go into her small office space. She put down her box and purse then walked into the back kitchen area. It was early, they didn't open until ten in the morning for tea customers and closed promptly at four o'clock in the afternoon. When they'd gone into business, they'd made an agreement not to allow it to take over their lives. Even though many of their customers in the small town sometimes complained, they'd never changed their hours.
She donn
ed a chocolate brown smock with the Sit a Spell Teahouse logo over her left breast covering the striped blue t-shirt she wore with jeans and flat shoes. She pulled her long hair back into a ponytail, peeked in the mirror. After a quick glamour spell giving her mascara and bright pink lips, she then walked through the swinging door to behind the counter.
Her friend wiped her hands on a towel and grinned. Becka wore her wild curls up in a messy bun from which most of her hair had escaped. In one of her usual mix-matched patterned outfits, she wore a fifties housewife style dress with bunches of cherries on a teal blue background. Yellow frilly socks and apple green Reeboks completed the ensemble.
Her vivid green eyes twinkled mischievously. "I forgot to do a fix up. I had to hurry out after I left Gary lying across the bed, naked and breathless." She snapped her fingers and instantly her hair became a more manageable but yet messy style and her eyes twinkled with bright blue eye shadow. “There.”
"Seriously?" Abbie stopped and stared at her friend. "Did you really think I wanted to hear that?" She didn't want to picture her best friend's husband naked. Gary Knudsen was a burly, handsome man who doted on Becka and from the information her friend always insisted on sharing, there were apparently plenty of reasons why.
"Oh yeah," Becka got a dreamy look. "But that's not what I wanted to tell you.” she continued while carefully setting the fresh scones onto a beautiful blue flowered china plate.
Abbie snatched one from the baking sheet and plopped onto a tall chair. "Talk all you want while I have a cup of Darjeeling, and this yummy darling here." She eyed the teapot clock on the wall. It was nine-thirty, plenty of time before they opened.
"Listen to this," Becka whispered even though there wasn't anyone in the shop. "Someone stole Polly and Peter right off Mrs. Polanski's porch."
"Who?"
"Her parakeets. You know how she dotes on them. She is beside herself, poor thing." Becka continued to tsk as she pulled a different tray of scones from the oven, these were their Wednesday special flavor, golden raisin.
If she'd known those were in the oven, Abbie would have waited. She studied her already bitten into scone and wondered if maybe she should go ahead and take a golden raisin one and eat half of each. "Why is it such a big deal that the birds are missing?"
"Because," Becka continued hesitating for effect. “It's another random theft in the string of things taken around town. First the Smith's mailbox, then Julie Milton's rocking chair, Amelia's mother said a cat statue was snatched from their back deck and now this. The mayor is having a town hall meeting tomorrow night."
Losing the willpower when the aroma of the fresh scones beckoned, Abbie got up and grabbed one. "Goodness," Abbie replied absently biting the scone. "I hope they figure out who's doing it. It's a shame when you can't leave things on your own porch. Who the hell has a cat statue anyway?"
“Maybe someone making an altar to the goddess of the underworld,” Becka replied.
“There is no such thing,” Abbie more asked than said. “Right?”
"Coy is so annoying; she's smudging the glass," Becka went to the front door and flipped the sign to open when the woman cupped her hands and peered in. "Hi Coy, you're up and about early."
The woman walked past Becka barely sparing her a glance and rushed to the counter her hands on the counter. Her sparkling bright pink two-inch long nails extended like talons. Coy took a long breath. "Oh my God. I want to eat the entire shop."
"That would not surprise me. You're always eating." Becka said. The two had a good-natured banter going, constantly chiding each other over their lack of ability sticking to a diet.
Coy adjusted her headband and looked Becka up and down. "Hmm, you’re one to talk. Looks like you've been your own taste-tester lately."
Both burst into giggles and Abbie shook her head. "Coy have you heard about the random thefts? What do you think?"
"I think there's a mad warlock living amongst us. And he needs to be stopped before he moves on to women's underwear. I am keeping my panties inside from now on."
There was silence as Abbie and Becka exchanged looks, neither daring to ask where Coy normally kept her panties. Abbie cleared her throat. "I have to agree, there seems to be a crazy person living here in Whisper."
"Or persons," Becka said in a conspiracy tone. "Maybe the thief has a partner, someone who is his or her lookout."
The bell over the door jingled and the three women inhaled as the newest member of the community, Logan Porter, walked in. He looked to each of them and then turned to look behind him. "Err...good morning ladies."
"Good morning," they chorused and smiled at the handsome man. He'd just moved to Whisper several months earlier and took over the retiring doctor's practice as the new veterinarian. As far as they could figure, he didn’t have any magical powers, unless one counted his handsomeness.
"I'd like a cup of coffee and a couple of those scones." He moved to the counter obviously trying to avoid Coy who turned in a full circle, her eyes locked on him.
Abbie was glad he was distracted as she wiped crumbs from her mouth and bit her lips in hopes they'd get some color. "Good morning Doctor Porter, what can I get you?"
At Becka's loud throat clearing, she realized he'd already ordered. "Err...right, I'll get that coffee." She whirled and stared at the empty coffee pot. Too busy eating, she'd not started it. Abbie turned back to the vet, who held a box with two scones. "Have you tried hot chai?"
He frowned, the lowered eyebrows did not distract from his astonishing good looks one bit. “No, can't say I have."
"Well I tell you what. Since the coffee won't be ready for a few minutes. How about a cup of chai on the house and I'll bring you fresh coffee as soon as it's made?"
He shrugged and smiled at her. She felt her eyes round as she swallowed. The man's smile was lethal to women. "I'll take the chai, no need for coffee. I'll make at pot at the clinic."
"Good Lord!” Coy exclaimed, leaning her elbow on the counter while she stared at the vet. "You sure you only treat animals?"
The vet nodded. "Yes ma'am. Do you have a pet?"
"My familiar is a crow. He doesn’t need any care, damn thing is healthy as an ox.” She didn’t seem to notice the vet’s confused look. “Maybe I’ll get a hamster or a rabbit, they're quiet." Coy tapped her long nails on the counter. "I don't have time for dogs and cats. They are too noisy."
"Well I'll certainly take care of your new pet once you get one. Just bring it by." He took the chai from Abbie and strolled out.
"You two need to roll your tongues back in." Becka huffed and went to the door, blocking their view of the doctor's backside. "There's ol' Mrs. Grundy," she exclaimed. "Must be shopping for a new broom to fly around on."
Across the street, Mrs. Grundy shuffled down the sidewalk, wearing what looked to be a velvet orange jogging suit.
"Looks like she broke out of old lady jail," Abbie said watching the stooped woman stop and look into the thrift store window. "I want to hope she doesn't come here, but it's almost like a horrible morbid curiosity challenge. To see how mean she can be today."
"Mean old lady never fails to top herself," Becka agreed.
Coy squeezed between them. "I'm not that curious. I better get to work." She exited and clip-clopped down the sidewalk, heading to her consignment store two doors down.
2
I t was an hour before closing, but already Abbie's back was tight from standing. It had been busier than normal. Probably all the Whisper residents out to swap the latest news on the random thefts and gossip about why the mayor sported a black eye. In Abbie's opinion, there was a better chance of catching the thief than finding out what happened to Clark Carter. More interesting he did not use glamour to hide it. But then again, men didn’t think of such things The mayor's wife was out of town, which lead to the suspicion he'd gone drinking out of town and gotten into a bar brawl. When asked he'd explained it had occurred while playing basketball with his brother over the weekend. But no one w
anted to believe that boring tale.
Leaving Becka to handle the one customer who'd just arrived, Abbie lugged a bag of trash out the back door. She lifted on tiptoes to open the dumpster when she caught sight of Mayor Carter shoving several large black bags into the trunk of his car. The Mayor stopped and looked around, almost as if he didn't want to be seen. When he turned in her direction, Abbie ducked down behind the dumpster.
Slowly she lifted back up to peek. The mayor backed his car out of the parking space and drove away, his tires spinning out in his haste.
"Becka, I just saw Mayor Carter shoving bags of stuff into the trunk of his car in the alleyway. He was acting all twitchy."
Her friend wiped the counter and motioned for her to come nearer. "Did he see you?" She whispered so the customer who sat sipping tea by the window wouldn't hear her.
"No, I ducked when he turned in my direction. Don't you think it's strange?" Abbie felt her eyes widen. "Do you think he's the random thief?"
Becka shook her head. "No, he's to classy for that. I bet he was dumpster diving."
"How can he be to classy to steal, but not to dumpster dive?" Abbie let out a huff. "Maybe he was moving things from his back seat so he could see better out the back window."
"Maybe," Becka sounded reluctant in her agreement. "Dumpster diving has turned into a big treasure hunt. Don’t you watch that show on TV “From Horrible to Fabulous?” Why would he be moving things around in the alleyway? What was he doing back there?" She covered her mouth with both hands and dragged Abbie into the small kitchen. "Oh no...what if he killed someone and it was a body?"