Thought I would post a snippet from my current work in progress….. 

New England Town – USA

It was fast approaching fall in New England town where Magwith Howe lived in the Victorian house that her parents had left her. The leaves on the trees were beginning to turn all the various hues of copper, bronze, and gold ready to cascade to the paths and roads below.  Soon it would be the Autumn Equinox and then All Hallow’s Eve, the time of witches and magic.

For Magwith, her day had begun just like every other day with no portents about what was going to happen.   She had attended her job at the library, enjoying the peace and quiet her day job brought her. The tall mahogany bookshelves were filled to the brim with various genres of books. Some well-read and loved and others just acquired dust as they waited there to be opened.

She stacked shelves, putting books back in order as sunlight streamed in through the tall windows but really she loved dealing with customers, presenting them with just the right book they were looking for and hearing their joy as they returned the book and told her how much they loved it.  Magwith had a gift for finding the exact right book for people. A self-help book when they were feeling low or that latest steamy romance. It was like she had a gift for knowing what her customers needed and because she loved her job she didn’t even mind when she had to return old dusty reference books to the back of the library where the dark corners somehow made her nervous.

On this day Magwith could cheerfully say that she’d had a really good day and maybe that was why when she was walking the way back home she ignored the flickering street lamps.  It was the also the reason that she also ignored the occasional growl emitting from the gathering shadows.  Like something was trailing her. Stalking her.

Turning up the drive towards her house she paused to look at the grand Victorian mansion that had been in her family for a hundred years. Painted a pale cream to match the rest of the neighbourhood houses she loved the small porch, the front windows that gleamed with a mystical shine and never needed cleaning, thanks to a great Aunt who had despised housework and cast a perpetual spring cleaning spell.

Magwith came from a long line of magic folk, wizards, warlocks, and witches of all kinds littered her family tree and each generation born appeared to have magical gifts. It came as a shock to her parents that at the age of 13 when she should have been beginning to learn all about her gift she developed what can only be described as a reluctance to do magic.

The simple spells that novice witches cut their teeth on were too much for her.  She couldn’t make a feather fly or a candle ignite no matter how much she practiced.

Good meaning fellow witch folk just said she was a late bloomer and that the magic would come.  Her parents tried not to be disappointed in her but she could tell they hated that their gifted child was a magical dud.

Worse, instead of her magic getting better or improving, no, now she had another entirely bad situation.  Magic gave her headaches.  And sneezing.   Her eyes would stream and her nose tickle until she couldn’t hold back the sneezing.  It managed to get her into a lot of trouble.

She was on her own in the family home, her parents had died in a car crash leaving just her and that housework-hating great-Aunt, who was doing something archaeological in the desert, something about finding a lost manuscript.

Placing the key in the lock she gave a sudden gasp as a shadow near her morphed into human shape and wrapped strong arms around her. A hand covered her mouth and her eyes blinked at the sudden coldness shuddering through her body.

“Don’t scream,” he murmured near her ear his voice soft and melodious.

“I wasn’t going to…” she mumbled against the hand over her mouth.   It sounded like she was talking underwater but he seemed to understand as he removed his hand.

“I need your help,” he stated.

“Funny bloody way to ask for it,” she muttered flexing her body getting ready to fight.

“There are other… beings out here…”

“I know,” she rolled her eyes at the sarcastic note that had entered her voice.   Coldness. Shadow.  A voice that made her want to do things.  And a strength that… she stopped her wayward thoughts and focused.  “You’re a vampire,” she hissed out.

“I am.”

Again that voice melted something inside of her.  She wanted to turn and see his face, see his eyes and… nothing.  Vampires were bad news.  Really bad news.  There were very few things in magic circles that were despised; vampirism was one of them, though.

“What do you want?”  Magwith was proud her voice didn’t waver.

“I need your help.”

“If it’s magic you need help with you’ve come to the wrong witch.”

“Magwith my ‘situation’ is… desperate.  You need to help me.”

“I don’t need to do anything and stop using that voice on me,” she muttered elbowing him sharply in the ribs. The resulting pain in her arm convinced her that was a bad idea the moment she’d done it but it didn’t stop her struggling against the tight bonds his muscular arms were proving to be.

“What voice?” he asked in the same voice.   The one that made her think of sunny days and cute kittens. The one that appealed to every single part of her and most especially the tingling female core inside of herself that had been berating her for her total lack of dates recently.

She sighed before lowering her head in shame that she was even going to ask the following question.

“You know my name, how about yours Vlad?”

She knew her sarcasm had reached him when his arms tightened momentarily around her.  Vampires hated the comparison between themselves and the original Vlad Drăculea.  Here she was with a vampire practically wrapped around her standing on the front porch of her house.  Her shod foot scrapped at the black and white tiles in the criss-cross pattern in her front porch as she waited for his response before she spotted something she should definitely have remembered.

Vampires had to be invited in.  Everyone knew that, however, there was another caveat to the rule, in that you didn’t have to do the inviting, objects could do it.  Such as the welcome mat that the tip of her foot had just touched.  Or even the small welcome sign that inside just near the door that she suddenly hoped he couldn’t see.

“I am Luca,” he said quietly.

“Well Luca you need to let me go,” she muttered.  To her surprise, he did just that and she hastily stepped forward pushing open the door.  “I’ll bid you goodnight,” she muttered unable to think of anything more pointed before she stepped forward and into the house.  She slammed the door shut behind her and raced over to the nearest seat collapsing down into it with her head lowered and her eyes covered.

A heartbeat, one –two- three… then, “You saw the mat didn’t you?”

“I did.”

That voice was making her insides melt it was so good she thought with a groan before lifting her head and looking at the tall vampire in front of her. Now he wasn’t just a shadow or a pair of muscular arms wrapped around her, now he was a tall slim built man with sapphire blue eyes and long collar length blond hair that had a startling tendency to curl. Although he certainly had more than enough muscles that he could sweep her off her feet and carry her up the stairs to her bedroom where… wait, could vampires read minds?

“Let’s get this over with,” she muttered leading the way out of the room and up the two sets of stairs towards the attic room where the family’s spellbook was kept.

….If you want to read more drop me a comment below….


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