Wednesday, October 18, 2017


A story that sparked over 100,000 visitors. The new young adult novel by Samantha C. Ross.

Trying to live an ordinary life, but the paranormal just keeps getting in the way? it is not twilight here on the island, but dusk. Prepare for a story of light and dark, and enter the world of three teenager supernatural sisters. Magic happens here. A spell, a curse, a love bewitched. On Americus, nothing is as it seems. Take the trip now...there are so many things in the shadows waiting for you...





Chapter One

Take your amulet, your charms, your cross,
And keep them close at hand,
For in the witching hour, things unknown,
Loom in the shadows of the land,

And even the stars, they shudder, pretending that they glisten,
While the moon slides purposely amongst the clouds,
As fearfully she listens,

Beings that dwell in the catch of night,
And chill the blood of veins,
The moment they are glanced upon,
Drive the mind's eye insane,

But who will help us, as the crypts slide open,
And the mist begins to draw near?
For is it the witches we should be afraid of?
Or what the witches fear…

~A.S Carver


I can’t ever remember not living on the island, or a time that it didn’t feel like home to me.Sometimes my Aunt Tookie and my oldest sister would talk softly of another place we’d lived. Though their conversations always seemed sad and wistful – memories best left far away and forgotten. I wondered briefly as I breathed in glacial air, if our other home – too long in the past for me to recall, had been any warmer than here.

“Let’s go, Babybelle.” My middle sister Angel called, starting down the wooden stairs.

“Don’t call me that,” I snapped, hating my childhood nickname, and hating the cold even more. “Where’s Evangeline? Isn’t she coming with us?”

“Not yet. She’s helping Aunt Tookie with something – she’ll follow soon.”

I wasn’t really listening; the March, morning-frost stairs were a death-trap if not navigated properly.

Regardless of a rickety stairwell, and the wintry weather, I sincerely loved the place I called home. I adored the house that perched on a bluff, overlooking a swirling ocean. The beauty of our home lay in its whitewashed wood and sprawling verandas. Giant potted plants bejeweled the decking, overgrown with flowers and herbs. Perfumed jasmine grew in wild spirals, claiming the balcony like a scented picture frame.

But mostly I loved the rainbow colored lamps, still lit-up in the windows at school time. Our island was always hung with morning fog this early in the year.

Would you get a move on?!" My sister yelled through the mist, reaching the beach path before me. I ignored her and took my time. Another part of my morning ritual was to enjoy the view, savouring a glimpse of the silver-grey surf.

Americus Island – the place I’d inhabited for most of my life, lies between Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket. It usually possesses a curious, subtropical climate. For the most part, my island home seems to prefer warmth, even when it shouldn’t. Blazing sunshine and summer humidity claim a large part of the year. Except for days like today. During the first months of the New Year, not even balmy Americus Island can turn its back on the icy tentacles of New England.

It also boasted a strange botanical mixture. A mysterious combination of dense, twisted forest, and bordering woodlands. The thick greenery tapered away to reveal palm speckled beaches. Shaped like a star, all five points rising above the ocean, Americus Island spread in an uneven merge of rocky cliffs, and flat residential regions. We lived on the most southerly tip, Yule Point.

Officially, we were part of the state of Massachusetts, but Americus sometimes seemed like a solitary destination, anchored alone in the ocean, void of partnership with the outside world. From time to time, you can hear the locals muse over the strange feeling of isolation our separate island is known to cause.

Of course, there were others who chose to be here for that reason.





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"Another of my strange characteristics was that I could - by all accounts - read human thoughts. But how did that explain my new, uncanny ability to know spells and curses that had yet been taught to me? Had I used my telepathic skill while still an infant, and drawn the magical knowledge from my mother's mind, before she was mysteriously taken from this world?" - Chime Emmerson


"A Manifesto, particularly one as timeless as ours, was the most powerful book a witch could own. It revealed spells and curses of such a dangerous nature, even the most experienced of witches were careful f its use. My stomach lurched, as I looked again at the place our mystical book should be. Our Manifesto was gone."









"But the thing that shredded my heart the most was finding, and then losing, the love of my life - despite the supernatural being he was. My friends, my family, they advised I was too young to know what real love was, and that time would heal me. They were wrong. Age was no barrier of my of my understanding of love. And no day would ever come that I would be free of him, in my mind, in my heart. I'd lost the one person who was understanding, admiring of what I was. I bit down on my lip, fighting to stop the agony cascading through, and I glanced one more time at the reflection of my solitary figure, rocking back and forth, cocooned in sorrow."


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