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 - page6


“I don’t know what you’re so worried about,” I shrugged. “Plenty of Americus people are thought of as weird, it isn’t only us they talk about.”

“There’s still no need to draw more attention to our family!”

“Well if it bothers you so much, feel free to go do your thing,” I challenged

Evie suddenly went from glaring at me, to smirking and on my side. “Yeah Angel, why don’t you… erase everything, if you’re that concerned.”

The three of us locked eyes, no longer opponents, but conspirers filled with mirth. Our middle sister had been blessed with one of the more unusual talents among us. Memory replacement.

“Poor Mrs. Loch,” we said in unison, setting us off into gales of giggles.

The story never got old. My sisters and I never grew tired of recalling the funny, fateful evening.

Mrs. Loch was a fussy, matronly type who had come to sit for me one evening. While she was under the misconception that my family were catching dinner and a movie, Tookie, along with Angel and Evie, were actually headed into the woods. It was a yearly ritual of thanks to nature they’d gone to perform – a ceremony I’d been too young to participate in back then. The fastidious sitter though a constructive bedtime was eight o’clock. I disputed this opinion, because in all honesty, I didn’t have a designated time. Lying in bed, bored out of my mind and feeling hard done by, I decided to give her a scare. And I did so in the kind of cruel way only a child can do, and still think it funny. My aunt and sisters came home to find a chorus-line of shoes dancing by themselves, my hairbrush combing my hair without the aid of being held, and Mrs. Loch screaming in the corner. Tookie had had to escort the poor, demented woman home. But before she’d left, Angel’s talents had been needed. With her power and skill, she erased Mrs. Loch’s recollection of the supernatural, replacing it with a false image of a perfectly normal, uneventful, child-minding night.

Tookie was irate. In my defense, I’d only been twelve at the time, and didn’t grasp the harm. I made my sisters laugh all the time by moving things on their own. From then on, thanks to Mrs. Loch, telekinesis was outlawed outside the family home. Any humorous opinion I had at the time quickly disappeared too, my reward being three months abstinence from magic, and constantly pruned hands from dish-washing.

We were still sniggering over the memory, or lack of, as we arrived home. I stopped Angel on the stairs.

“Sis, try not to worry too much about people that think we’re weird – they’re straight and narrow, and will never get to see the scenic route. I know you’re annoyed about today, but even if we never ever used magic again, it wouldn’t change their opinion. Even if we suddenly joined a missionary, and signed up for humanitarian work in third world countries, we still wouldn’t change their minds about us. Well, maybe you could,” I grinned.

She smiled back softly. “I know. I’m sorry I overacted. It’ll all blow over and be forgotten.”

Evie gave me a wink. “Now we just have to pray that Tookie doesn’t find out through the Americus grapevine.”

“Find out what?” asked an amused voice from the top of the stairs. Oh goody, what great timing. Of all days, my aunt just happened to shut shop early and sat waiting on the veranda.

“Girls?” she asked again.

“Nothing.” Angel and Evie blurted simultaneously, guiltily.

“Chime?” she pressed, turning to me.

I took a sudden interest in my shoes, wondering how long I could put off the inevitable. Sneaking a glance from under my lashes, it didn’t look like very long.

I faced Tookie’s expectance. No use lying. She’d make it her business to find out.

“I hit a baseball.”

“Why would your sisters feel the need to hide that fact that you hit a ball?”

“Because I hit it with my mind,” I clarified.

Tookie considered my answer, smiled, and professed we’d ‘talk about this later’.

I wondered if this would affect my weekend.


Aunt Tookie is our mother’s sister. Our parents died in an accident, soon after I was born. Tookie was the eldest of the Sabelle family, though mine and my sister’s surnames are that of our long gone father, Emmerson.

Tookie has another, slighter younger sister, Kate, who also lives on Americus Island. Some long ago family altercation ensured we had rarely, if anything, to do with her. Nor did we associate with her daughter, my cousin Virginia.

Our mother Emmaline, like me, had been the third and baby sister of the family. Consistent and abundant in her upkeep of stories, Tookie spoke of our mother all the time. She wanted us to feel her presence. She wanted to ensure the woman who gave birth to us, that loved my sisters and I beyond measure, remained living in our hearts, and not just a faded memory from an eternity ago.

There was no way that could happen. Not when we could sit listening for hours about Emmaline – her wild ways, her penchant for trouble. A powerful witch who was fierce when the situation called for it, yet sweet and loyal by nature. The only thing never discussed was the enigmatic circumstances surrounding our parent’s accident.

Sweetness and devotion were a heredity virtue in the Sabelle family. Our aunt displayed both, rarely showing annoyance at our wrongdoing. Her resources of patience and understanding never ran dry. She delighted in our achievements, and consoled our defeat. With our parents gone, Tookie took on the legal role of our new mother. She also wholeheartedly gave herself. From Boston to Americus, Tookie transported our lives, providing my sisters and me with a secure and loving environment. In hindsight, Tookie is the only mother I’d ever really known. Her long dark plait, threaded with silver, always smells of lavender. And her array of croquet shawls feel like a sanctuary when enveloped in her frequent bear-hugs. I never felt lacking in family.




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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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