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“What?!” exclaimed Winter. “Erik, what are you talking about?”
“The cops called me after I got to work,” he explained. “They said one of the neighbours had called about our house. I went back home to see for myself and—Winter, it...it was like a car went through the house!”
Erik paced as he continued his story. “The cops were still there and I asked them what had happened, but they said they didn't know; they were still investigating. They pointed out there weren't any vehicles around when they arrived, and they didn't find any skid marks or tire tracks on the road or on the lawn.”
“My word, was anyone hurt?” asked Mr. Levins, sounding concerned.
“No, thankfully,” said Erik. “Our parents are away in Greece for the month along with our younger sister; they're visiting family over there. I dropped Winter off here, then I went to work. Everything was fine when we left the house this morning...!”
Erik turned to his sister and put a hand on her shoulder.
“Winter, I'm sorry, but...the most damage was done to your rooms. The rest of the house doesn't even look like it was touched, but I can't be sure. I can't go in the house until the cops clear the scene, and when I left to come get you, they were still there.”
Winter cried out in sudden realization. “Erik, my library—my books...!”
“I know, Winter, I know,” said Erik, trying to calm her down. “I'm sorry, Sis. I've left a message for Dad to call me back on my cell, but I don't think they've even landed in Greece yet; their flight just left only this morning.”
Winter began to panic. “Erik, what about Kitters...is she OK? Did you see her?”
Kitters was Winter's cat. She found her as a stray last year, and she convinced her mother to let the cat stay in the house. Mrs. Banos didn't care for cats but had reluctantly allowed Kitters to stay, so long as Winter didn't allow her into the house too often. Usually that wasn't a problem, as Kitters was an outside cat and it wasn't uncommon for her to be gone for two or three days at a time.
“I didn't see Kitters when I was at the house,” replied Erik, “but then again, I wasn't looking for her either. I've been on the phone all morning, talking to the insurance company with the info Dad gave me before they left. I still don't know what I'm going to tell him or Mom. I don't even know what happened...!”
Winter dejectedly sank down into a chair and looked up at her brother. Despite her own fears about her rooms, she knew how Erik must have felt. Something had gone wrong the moment their parents left him in charge, and Erik was likely believing this was somehow all his fault.
“We're very sorry to hear this,” consoled Mrs. Banyon, handing Winter's cellphone back to her. “Is there anything we can do?”
“I'll need to take Winter home so she can try to salvage her things,” said Erik, gently rubbing his sister's shoulder. “Then we'll go to a hotel, or maybe to my dad's office in Toronto. Then all we can do is wait for them to come home.”
“Of course, we understand completely,” said Mr. Levins. “Winter, just let us know when you're able to come back to school. I'll have Ms. Cornber keep some reference notes for you. You can catch up when you return.”
“Thank you,” Winter said quietly.
“Come on, Sis...let's go home.” Erik picked up Winter's knapsack and walked her outside to his work truck. It was a deep-blue pick-up truck with the words BANOS CONSTRUCTION stencilled on each side, along with the business phone number. Erik opened the passenger-side door for his sister, then got in on the driver's side. Together, they drove off towards the Banos' family home.
Winter sat in shock as Erik drove. She was incredibly anxious to get home to see what had happened to her rooms. On impulse, Winter pulled out her cell and began to text Kendra.
Can't meet for lunch. Left school.
- What happened?
Erik came to school to get me. Trouble at home.
- Trouble? What kind?
House has been damaged. My rooms may be toast.
- OMG! I'm so sorry! What happened?
Don't know. We're still twenty minutes away.
- Call me.
Winter paused before answering Kendra's text.
Not up for talking right now. I'll let ya know what happens.
- K.
Ttyl.
- K. Make sure you call me.
Winter put her phone away and sat there in silence. She was thinking mostly about Kitters, hoping nothing had happened to her. Winter also hoped her rooms and books were OK, especially her favourite book. She leaned her head against the window and watched the view zoom past as they made their way home.
Suddenly, Winter was startled as they passed a man standing by the side of the road. She tried to get a better look at him in the side mirror but he was already gone. Winter was sure it was the same man in the black suit who had been watching her school earlier that day.
Confused, she sat back and looked straight ahead, only to see them pass someone else, this time on the opposite side of the road. Winter got a better look this time, and now she knew she was right. It was the man in the black suit—but how had he gotten ahead of them?
Then something else caught Winter's eye, and she looked out her window again. She swore she saw...something...moving through the trees that lined the road. She wasn't sure but she thought it might have been an animal—an animal with reddish-brown fur. When she looked again, it had vanished.
Her brother couldn't help but notice her odd behaviour. “Winter, are you alright...?”
“I thought I saw something...in the trees, Erik...and there was this man—”
“What man?”
“A man wearing a black suit; I saw him outside the school today. Then, just a few minutes ago, I thought I saw him again...twice...”
“What do you mean 'twice'...?”
“We passed him twice, Erik...I'm sure of it...”
“You can't pass someone on the road twice, Sis—not unless they're Superman...”
“I know that, Erik...I'm just telling you what I saw...”
Erik sighed. “I know you're upset, Sis—we'll be home soon, OK?”
Winter didn't answer and stayed quiet for the rest of the drive. It wasn't too long before they turned into a familiar driveway.
The Banos family lived in a sprawling bungalow, located near the Forks-of-the-Credit. Trees from a nearby forest lined the spacious backyard, and their nearest neighbour was about a kilometre away. In the distance, Winter could easily see the ridge lines of the Niagara Escarpment.
As Erik parked the truck, Winter could only stare—one side of the large family home was destroyed. It was as if an enormous wrecking ball had torn straight through the walls from front to back. The roof had collapsed over the wreckage, and Winter gasped as she saw which rooms had sustained the most damage. One room had been her bedroom, and the other was her library and study room. Both were covered with fallen debris from the roof and attic.
Just as Erik mentioned earlier, the rest of the house appeared untouched, except for the back deck, and their mother's flower garden which surrounded the house. Both were torn up and shredded, as if a football team had repeatedly trampled through them. Winter couldn't imagine what could have done this to her home.
Winter bolted out the truck cab as soon as Erik stopped the vehicle. She heard her brother call to her as she ran towards the lopsided house, but she didn't stop. She had to inspect her rooms—especially her library. There was one book in particular she needed to find. As Winter approached the ruined house, she looked around for Kitters, but the cat was nowhere in sight.
Winter gingerly stepped over layers of broken wood, shingles, and concrete, as she made her way towards what was left of her rooms. It was even worse than she thought; her bedroom was gone, there was virtually nothing left of it. Her bed, her computer, her dressers, her stereo; everything she owned was in a million pieces. It was a miracle the floor of the room was still intact; it still felt stable enough to walk on. Winter continued to move about carefully, picking through the wreckage. She was shocked to find most of her clothing looked as if it had been pulled from the closet and slashed with a long knife.
Winter then stumbled over to what was left of her personal library. All the books she had collected over the years were still there, but were now buried, battered, and torn. Winter began to sift gently through the debris, as Erik came running up from behind her.
“Winter, be careful!” he warned. “What do you think you're doing?”
“I have to find it, Erik! I have to see if it's OK...!” exclaimed Winter, holding back tears. Winter had long believed herself to be a strong person, and not someone prone to falling apart over nothing. Now, with her possessions ruined and Kitters missing, she was having a hard time keeping her emotions in check.
“Find what?” Erik asked her, but he already knew the answer. Winter was looking for the old story-book their grandmother had given her before she died, late last year. Winter had received many books from their grandmother over the years, but the old story-book had always been Winter's favourite.
Erik was about to protest again when Winter squealed with glee. She had found the book, hidden underneath a crumpled bookshelf. The book was titled The Children's Book of Fairies and Folklore, and it was still in surprisingly good shape; just a bit dirty from being buried. Winter pulled the book out and hugged it tightly, then she looked up at her brother and smiled, her eyes now on the verge of tears.
“Come on you,” he said, smiling back. “Let's get you to a hotel while we wait for Mom and Dad to call back. It's not safe to be rummaging about here just now; the floor could still cave in.”
“What about waiting at Dad's office, like you said?” asked Winter, still hugging the old story-book.
“No good,” said Erik, helping her up. “I just remembered; he had new locks installed before he and Mom left for vacation, and he hasn't made me a set of keys yet. Besides, his office is all the way in Toronto by Harbourfront, and I don't much feel like heading down there.”
“OK, a hotel it is then.” Winter paused. “Erik...I still have to find Kitters.” She looked around as she clumsily put the old book in her knapsack.
“Don't worry, Sis; Kitters will turn up,” said Erik. “She's an outdoor cat, after all...she'll be OK. We'll come back and look for her this afternoon once I've talked to Mom and Dad. That cat's probably not even anywhere near the house.”
“OK,” said Winter as she walked back to the truck with her brother. Then she stopped short and tilted her head. “Wait a sec, Erik...listen—you hear that?”
Erik stopped and heard exactly what his sister was talking about; it was the sound of a cat meowing very loudly, and it was coming from the woods behind the house. They both turned around and sure enough, there was Kitters; a bright-orange tabby cat, sitting at the edge of the trees about a hundred metres away, mewling at the top of her lungs.
“Kitters!” yelled Winter excitedly. The young woman promptly broke into a run and headed straight for the woods, knapsack still draped around her shoulder. Erik was about to follow and then stopped himself; he knew from experience there was no way he could catch up with her, not once Winter had a head start. She could always outrun him, even when they were kids. He had no choice but to indulge his sister to gather up the cat while he waited for her.
Moments later when Winter reached the edge of the trees, she watched as the cat reared up suddenly, then quickly bolt into the deep thick forest. Winter couldn't blame Kitters; the cat had to be spooked after what happened to the house. Still, Winter wasn't about to let the cat get away from her now.
She looked up and saw the clear sky had turned grey. Storm clouds were gathering in the distance. Knowing it would soon rain and determined not to lose her cat, Winter left Erik behind and followed Kitters into the dense forest.
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“I don't want to be here, Erik...!”
Winter Banos pouted as she leaned on the passenger-side window frame of her brother's pick-up truck. The last thing she wanted to do was sit inside a high school classroom in July. She was about to repeat American History so she could graduate with the rest of her senior classmates.
“Can't be helped, Sis,” replied Erik. He was a tall, good-looking young man of twenty-two, with thick wavy brown hair and a short goatee. He was wearing his usual work clothes; a bright yellow t-shirt, complete with a design which read BANOS CONSTRUCTION, blue jeans, and construction boots. Erik had what Winter believed were the coolest eyes she had ever seen; his right eye was sky-blue, while his left eye was a stormy-grey colour. “I told you that skipping class would land you here. It's your own fault; you'll just have to accept your fate.”
“Oh puh-leeze, Erik,” moaned Winter as she rolled her eyes at him. “You know I don't believe in things like fate or destiny; they're stupid. I control my own destiny, thank you.”
“And yet here you are,” teased her brother.
“Oh shut up,” huffed Winter. “And why did you have to drive me into school anyway? Were you afraid I'd skip again?”
“Well, the thought did cross my mind,” said Erik. “But you heard Dad this morning—I'm to look out for you while they're away.”
“Whatever, Erik. I'm seventeen; you know I can look after myself.”
“I know that, and you know that, Sis,” said Erik with a grim tone. “Bad things are happening out there. Therefore, as per Dad's instructions, you get a lift in to school as I head to work.”
Winter knew what Erik meant. A rash of violent robberies had been committed in the Greater Toronto Area. Four occurred last month alone, the most recent one at a small nightclub in Richmond Hill. Thankfully, no one had been killed as yet, although several people had been hospitalized. One person was still recovering from a near-fatal gunshot wound to the stomach. So far, the newspapers all reported that the police had no current suspects and the investigation was still ongoing.
Winter also remembered a story she read in the paper yesterday, about a couple found dead near Halton Region. The article detailed that the couple appeared to have been attacked by a wild animal. Local police were still investigating and hadn't ruled out foul play.
“OK, OK—fine,” Winter conceded. “You can drive me into school every morning. Beats taking the bus, I guess.”
“Now you're thinking,” said Erik with a sharp grin. “Make sure you do some of that in class, too.”
“Oh shut up,” Winter said playfully. “This is so stupid—why do I have to learn about American History anyway...don't we live in Canada?”
“True...but you still gotta retake the class, Sis. And you gotta learn it this time—if you expect to graduate. Don't forget; you wouldn't be here at all if you hadn't skipped school so much. And I told you to stop texting your friends from class, didn't I...?”
“I know...”
“OK, then—here's your very first history lesson: those who don't learn from their mistakes aredestined to repeat them.”
“Cripes, Erik...you sound like Dad...”
“Hey, Dad went easy on you,” retorted her brother. “He's still willing to pay for your university this fall—if you pass the summer class. You still want to work at the zoo, right?”
Winter knew Erik was right—she was turning eighteen this October, and she wanted to begin university that fall. She intended to work towards a degree in Animal Sciences, and she didn't want to wait another year to graduate.
Winter adored animals; she loved the idea of being around them all the time, and she wanted the necessary skills to care for them. Deciding against the idea of becoming a veterinarian, she learned there was a special enrolment programme at the University of Toronto. Graduating the programme would allow her to apply for a position at the Metro Toronto Zoo, and it was all Winter could think about for the past year.
During the last week of regular school, her guidance counsellor, Miss Ives, pulled a few strings to get Winter into the summer school course. Miss Ives could tell Winter wasn't content to drift through her senior year, like a lot of her classmates. Winter knew what she wanted to do with her life, and all she needed to graduate high school was this one last particular credit.
Winter looked humbly at her brother. “You know I do, Erik.”
“Then get cracking, Sis, or you'll end up working in Dad's office at the construction site.” Erik started up the truck's engine. “We all believe in you. You can do this; even Lydia says so.”
“She's twelve, Erik,” said Winter, laughing. “She just wants to get in to see the animals for free!”
“Hey, so do I,” said Erik with a smile. “I'll see you at home, Sis. Have fun...and learn something this time...!”
Erik Banos pulled away from the curb and set off for work. Winter threw her knapsack over her shoulder and walked up towards the school entrance.
Caledon Secondary was a modest-sized high school, just on the edge of town. They had the best high school football team in the region, the CS Cougars, but the school also had many academic awards under its belt. Winter and her family had lived in Caledon for as long as she could remember, and she had enjoyed her high school senior years as the best ones yet.
At least until now.
As she got to the top of the front steps, Winter looked up, surprised. Kendra Joy, her best friend, was waiting by the entrance.
“So...you really are doing the summer class. Good for you, girlfriend.”
“What are you doing here?” asked Winter as they hugged. The two teen girls had seen each other only briefly over the past two weeks. Winter's parents had grounded her for having to repeat American History, and their final exams kept them both busy with studying.
“Shopping, of course! I also wanted to see if you were free later for lunch. You said last night that your cellphone gets confiscated when the class begins...?”
“Yeah, I have to turn it in—all the students do,” sighed Winter. “So, what are you shopping for now? Clothes? Equipment?”
“A little of both,” replied Kendra. “I don't want to be scrambling at the last minute for my athletic supplies, and all the good deals are on now.”
Winter believed Kendra to be one of the best female athletes in their high school, if not the school's best athlete period. She had won many awards for the school this past year, and had even gotten into U-of-T on a prized athletic scholarship. Winter enjoyed athletics as well, but Kendra excelled at them. In fact, the only thing Kendra couldn't best Winter at was a flat-out, one-on-one race. No one in their high school was faster than Winter at the one hundred metre dash.
Kendra Joy had a build tailor-made for athletics; toned, petite, and slim. She was of Jamaican and Asian descent, and it showed in her long black hair and exotic brown eyes. Like Winter, Kendra loved animals but not quite to the same degree. The two girls became best friends three years ago after Kendra's family had moved into the Caledon area.
“So, girlfriend...we're on for lunch after your class?” asked Kendra.
“You know it,” replied Winter. “Then I want to hit the bookstore, or the public library...or both.”
“Geez, Winter...don't you have enough books now...?”
“You can never have too many books,” Winter said as she shot Kendra a serious look. Winter adored books, almost as much as she loved animals. In fact, her favourite place to be other than the zoo had always been the library—any library. She owned a book collection herself back at home, in a spare room her parents allowed her to use. She'd filled it with hundreds of books, mostly about animals, but Winter also had thriller novels and many assorted books about strange-but-true facts. Her father had also given her several books on various mythologies, which was the only history Winter enjoyed.
Winter loved how a book could draw her in with its story and take her places as far as her imagination could go.
“I swear,” laughed Kendra as they entered the school together, “you should have chosen to be a librarian, instead of a zookeeper. I've never met anyone more crazy about books than you...!”
“I can't help it,” said Winter, smiling. “Books have been a huge part of my life, ever since I was a kid. Most of the books I own came from my grandmother, before she passed away last year...” Winter paused before continuing. “And my mother read to me every night for as long as I can remember.”
“Does your mom still do that now?” asked Kendra jokingly.
“No!” laughed Winter. “Now, she just rolls her eyes when my dad goes off on one of his speeches.” Winter deepened her voice and tried her best to look stern without laughing. “Winter...it's not just what people are that's important—”
“—it's who they were meant to become...!” finished Kendra, trying her best to mimic Winter's antics.
The two girls broke into peals of laughter as they headed for the cafeteria to pass the time before Winter's class began.
“Y'know,” said Winter as she sat at an empty table, “I kid my dad a lot about the stuff he says to me but I know he just wants me to do well.”
“Of course he does,” said Kendra. “My parents are the same way. And I can see how proud your folks are of you—you're gonna make a great zookeeper!”
“Or an animal scientist,” interjected Winter. “I have a few options when it comes to my majors...”
“As long as it involves animals, of course!” exclaimed Kendra.
“Of course!”
The two girls laughed and shared a muffin which Kendra had bought in the cafeteria.
“Sometimes, Winter,” began Kendra, sounding serious, “I envy your smarts; I wish I had them...”
“Shut up,” said Winter. “If I'm so smart, then how did I end up in summer school...?”
“OK, so you made one mistake,” said Kendra. “You're here trying to fix it, after all...”
“I'd better,” said Winter, also serious now, “or I can kiss university good-bye, and I'll end up filing papers for my dad for a year. I've planned for this for so long, Kendra...I can't blow it now...”
“You won't, girlfriend,” Kendra said as she gave her friend a reassuring hug. “I have faith in you.”
“Thanks,” said Winter. “You're probably the only friend I've had all throughout high school.”
“Nah...I'm just the one who understands you best,” said Kendra.
Just then, the first bell rang for the summer session to start.
“That's my cue,” said Winter as she got up from the table. “Time to face the music.”
“At least it's not just you,” remarked Kendra as they left the cafeteria to walk to Winter's history class. “I hear there's about a dozen other students who have to retake the same class.”
“I guess so—but I wish you were stuck in here with me...” said Winter as they reached the classroom.
“Not a chance,” Kendra winked. “I've got shopping to do!”
“Fine...have fun without me,” laughed Winter. “And thanks for meeting me this morning.”
“Anytime, girlfriend.”
Winter's smile faded as she saw her new classmates filing into the classroom. Each one placed their cellphones into a plastic tray held by Mr. Levins, the vice-principal. Winter often wondered where the stocky man bought all those ugly ties he often wore.
The two girls said good-bye, then Winter handed in her phone to Mr. Levins, who nodded for her to take a seat. She chose a window seat with a clear view of the street outside the school. The sun was shining and it already felt warm inside the stuffy classroom despite the air-conditioning. Winter looked up at the clock and saw it was almost eight; she'd be stuck here until noon. She already missed Kendra.
It was going to be a long summer.
* * *
By eleven o'clock, Winter was trying her best to stay awake. The teacher conducting the class kept droning on about an American president whose name Winter couldn't remember. She looked around and noted that the other dozen students in the class appeared restless as well.
Winter looked down and stared at her history textbook. Over the past three hours, she had already skimmed through it several times, but she couldn't bring herself to read any of the text. The book was like an encyclopedia, and Winter detested encyclopedias; she felt there was no life in them. In between sporadic note-taking, Winter had doodled a fair amount in her work-book, and now she was even bored with that. Winter wished she had her cellphone with her just to chat with someone...
She sighed and stole a glance out the window, just in time to glimpse a tall thin man, acting suspiciously. He appeared to be observing her school from across the road. Strangely, Winter almost thought the man was watching her in particular, but that was crazy.
She saw he had dark shoulder length hair, and he wore a tailored suit of solid black, which Winter found very odd, considering how hot it was today. For a second, Winter thought he had caught her watching him.
“Winter...are you paying attention?” asked the teacher loudly.
Winter jolted about at the sound of her name.“Um, yes...I mean no...sorry, Ms. Cornber.”
“Please dear, try to concentrate,” said Ms. Cornber. “You're here so you can graduate with your class this year, remember?”
“Yes, Ms. Cornber,” said Winter, feeling embarrassed.
Winter had never met Ms. Cornber before until today. She was a short, young substitute teacher conducting the class for the first time. Winter thought that perhaps Ms. Cornber was a student teacher, and was teaching summer school courses for the extra credit.
Embarrassed as she was, Winter had to admit Ms. Cornber was right; this really was her last hope of graduating this year and she needed to focus.
Winter stole a peek back out the window only to see the man in the black suit had vanished. He was nowhere to be seen up or down the street. Winter shrugged and forgot all about him while she concentrated on Ms. Cornber's lecture.
That was when a loud knock sounded sharply at the classroom door.
When Ms. Cornber opened the door, Winter saw it was Mr. Levins again. He motioned for Ms. Cornber to come closer, and he spoke to her in hoarse whispers while pointing in Winter's direction. At once, Winter knew something was wrong.
“Winter, you need to go with Mr. Levins right away,” said Ms. Cornber. “Gather your belongings, please.”
A low murmur sounded throughout the classroom, as all the students looked at Winter. A few students even looked envious.
“OK. Um...am I in some kind of trouble...?” asked Winter pensively.
“No, dear,” said Mr. Levins, “but your brother is waiting for you in the principal's office. He says it's urgent he sees you.”
“Erik...what's he doing here?” Winter knew her brother ought to be working now. He must have come to the school when she didn't answer her cellphone. Whatever it was he had to see her about, it obviously couldn't wait.
“Just follow me, Winter.” Mr. Levins appeared impatient, almost as if, he too, wished to be somewhere else other than a high school in the summertime.
Winter quickly gathered up her school books, stuffed them into her knapsack, and followed Mr. Levins out of the classroom and down the hall to the principal's office. A few minutes later, they arrived at the main office doors.
The principal of Caledon Secondary for the last three years was Mrs. Banyon, an older woman with greying blonde hair and horn-rimmed glasses. Winter had met her only once before, when Mrs. Banyon presented Winter with an award for first place in track at last years academic assembly. Before that, Winter never had a reason to be called to the principal's office for anything, even with her delinquency with American History. She had seen Mr. Levins for that.
Mrs. Banyon stood waiting at the door to her office and said a pleasant hello to Winter. Sitting in a chair by the principal's desk was Erik, still wearing his work clothes. He looked upset, which was unusual for Winter to see; it often took a lot to faze her brother.
“Erik?” Winter asked. “What's wrong?”
“It's our house, Winter,” replied the young man, his voice shaking slightly. “Our parent's house—its been destroyed...!”
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Beneath an ancient Victorian home, in a small, dimly lit stone room known as the Key Chamber, there sits a solitary figure. A woman, cloaked and hooded in robes of royal blue. She rests unmoving upon an old ornate wooden chair.
The woman once had a proper name, yet for more than two hundred years, she has borne a different mantle—
Witch.
The old Witch sat there in complete silence, her features hidden beneath her hood. She has remained undisturbed inside this stone room for a long time, for the Key Chamber belonged solely to the Witch. No one was welcome without her consent.
The chamber itself was cold, and dome-shaped. Besides the Witch and her ornate chair, it contained a structure, made up of four columns of clear glass which rose from the dry, dusty floor. The columns arched over at the top near the low ceiling, curving down towards the ground. Each column tapered to a blunt point, and attached to each end was a thick heavy chain of black wrought iron. All four chains in turn held up a large cauldron made of smooth transparent crystal. Its jagged rim hung at eye-level over the room's centre. The cauldron glowed with an eerie orange light from within, and this light was the only source of illumination within the Key Chamber.
Its muted glow suddenly changed from orange to a deep blood-red hue. This prompted the Witch to rise from her chair and walk across the floor to the waiting cauldron.
The Eye could not be ignored.
She studied the cauldron's crimson aura for a moment, and then the Witch reached out her hands and touched its glassy surface. In doing so, she summoned her servants; the Werewolf and the Vampire.
She did not have to wait long. The Witch knew they would answer whenever she called upon them. They arrived together, and upon entry into the Key Chamber, bowed gracefully towards the Witch, who acknowledged their gesture. They both stood silent, patiently awaiting her command.
The Witch looked them both over, admiring the Werewolf first. His body was monstrous, the perfect form of strength and power. His thick fur was the colour of dried blood, and his eyes shone like black diamonds.
By contrast, the Vampire looked human. He had sharp facial features, piercing turquoise-coloured eyes, and long black hair tied back with an ebony cloth bow. His skin was pale, like the moon. No emotion showed upon his face.
She gestured them closer, and they approached with caution. Stepping forward, they passed over several etched plaques, embedded into the floor. The light was too poor within the chamber to make out the plaques' engravings. The Werewolf and the Vampire watched as the Witch placed her hands upon the cauldron's smooth exterior once more. Within moments, the crimson glow inside the cauldron faded, replaced by a sea of swirling green clouds. The clouds churned and billowed under the glassy surface, coalescing together to form blurry shapes. Soon, distinct images appeared.
The Vampire and the Werewolf remained silent as the image of a young teenage girl materialized in the cauldron's churning emerald mist. To them, she appeared to be nothing remarkable; small in stature, with long fiery-red hair, a pretty freckled complexion, and large green eyes. She wore a pair of faded blue jeans, a plain forest-green t-shirt, and a grey hooded jacket. Over her shoulder was a blue knapsack with the letter W stitched in black embroidery.
“Is she the one?” the Vampire asked, his voice clean, like an actor performing on stage.
“She is,” replied the Witch in a low whisper. Although barely audible, she still echoed throughout the chamber.
“And...what are your intentions for her?” asked the Vampire, his interest aroused.
“That remains my concern, and mine alone,” said the Witch forcefully. “For now, I want you—both of you—to simply bring the girl here.”
The Vampire nodded. “And once she is within Asylum?”
The Witch exchanged curious glances with the two servants. “Do what you need to do, then turn her over to me.”
Warily, the Werewolf and the Vampire looked at one another, then nodded in unison to the Witch.
“Where is she now?” asked the Vampire, looking once more into the swirling fog of the cauldron. The image of the girl showed her exiting a vehicle in front of a large building set in the distance.
A high school.
“She resides with her family in the town of Caledon, Ontario,” replied the Witch.
“So Canada is our destination this time,” implied the Vampire.
“It is,” said the Witch. “She has begun to attend summer school. You both must be discrete in this endeavour. It is essential you do nothing to attract attention to yourselves. I want you both to merely follow the girl, then wait for the most opportune moment to abduct her. Be aware, gentlemen; time is of the essence.”
“And what of the girl's...family?” enquired the Vampire.
“They are of no concern,” said the Witch. “Stay focused on the girl.”
The Werewolf and the Vampire again exchanged glances, then nodded to the Witch in understanding. She eyed them sceptically from beneath her hood.
“I want it clear, gentlemen,” she said icily, “the girl is to brought here unharmed. I trust that is understood...by both of you?” The old Witch's eyes expressed the seriousness on the matter. As her servants nodded again in agreement, she knew they dared not fail her.
The Witch turned her back on them, and sat once more in her ornate chair. Then the Werewolf, who had remained quiet the entire time, finally spoke.
“What is her name?” he asked in a low, guttural voice.
The Witch did not look at him, but instead observed the crystal cauldron from her chair. She gazed upon the image of the girl, as if reflecting on an answer to the Werewolf's enquiry. Inside the glass, the girl dissolved into familiar wisps of orange smoke.
“Her name is Winter,” said the Witch, as she dismissed the Werewolf and the Vampire from the Key Chamber, “and it's time she came home to Asylum.”
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HAPPY NEW YEAR! THIS IS THE FIRST POST OF THE NEW YEAR AND WHAT A WAY TO BRING IN THE NEW YEAR WITH A SERIES BY SHANNON GREENLAND! AWARD-WINNING YA SPY SERIES COMES TO E-READERS
Penguin Publishing brings back Shannon Greenland’s The Specialists, featuring girl tech genius GiGi, after successful paperback release NEW YORK, NY – October 2012 – Shannon Greenland’s award-winning teen spy series The Specialists is brought back to the spotlight after six years in paperback. The 5-book series releases on Kindle, Nook and all e-readers this winter from Penguin Publishing. Inspired from the hit television show Alias, Greenland’s book series begins with Model Spy (originally debuted in 2007) when 16-year-old Kelly James is caught uncovering top-secret information for her irresistibly cute and nice friend David. Rather than serve a jail sentence, she accepts the option to change her identity and enlist in a government spy agency that trains teen agents. Instantly, Kelly Spree, a.k.a. girl genius GiGi, is born and sent on her first mission as an undercover model with a partner she’s surprised to find as an agent himself. The Specialists e-book release comes on the heels of Penguin’s publication of Greenland’s stand-alone novel The Summer My Life Began, which was chosen as a Hot YA Read by the She Knows Book Lounge, and devoured by librarians who called it “terrific” (School Library Journal) and “a breeze to get through; light and entertaining” (Texas librarian Jen Bigheart). Greenland’s impressive nine-book career – she also previously released three romantic suspense novels – has earned her awards from National Booksellers, Romantic Times, National Readers Choice, American Library Association, Daphne du Maurier and many more prestigious literary organizations. “Brilliant,” Kidz World; “Greenland makes you ride along, and I love it!” Echelon Press; “Hours of good reading,” Scribes World; “The imagery used to twine the characters lives is amazing,” Writers Unlimited; “Sure to surprise,” The Readers Studio; “Witty and very adventurous. Readers will not be disappointed,” Teens Read – are just a snippet of the high-praised comments Greenland has received for her writing. Readers can grab a copy of any of Greenland’s novels wherever books are sold or downloaded. The Specialists Series is also available in audio book format. ~Guest Post By Shannon Greenlend ~ I wasn’t really even a reader at all until a friend of mine dumped a load of historical romances on my door. I reluctantly, let me repeat that, reluctantly picked one up and found myself quickly in the middle of a 400 page novel. I moved on to the next and then the next and soon did a pilgrimage to the library. I was 28 and hadn’t a library card since elementary school. Go figure. I cruised my way through the historical romance section in the library and then moved on to contemporary and finally found my frenzy in suspense novels. I got to the point where I had read my local library’s inventory and was a frequent of the inter-library loan program. What was weird though was that in the middle of reading I would put down my book and start day dreaming my own stories. Soon after that I picked up a pencil and a pad of paper and started to write. Hence was born Discovering Veronica, my very first novel. I joined a writer’s organization, started going to meetings and workshops, and learned how I was really supposed to be writing. I went back to the drawing board, rewrote that first novel, and went on to write two more romantic suspense for adults. It was my critique partner that said, “Shannon, you really have a young voice. Why don’t you try writing Young Adult novels?” I balked at the idea. Teens? I don’t know how to write for teens. But like that first novel, I sat down one day, and before I knew it, I’d written 100+ pages of Model Spy, which launched The Specialists series that now has five books in it. Looking back on it all, I’m glad I travelled the road I did and I’m SO happy I found my voice in teen. Frankly, I can’t imagine writing for any other readers. I love the genre and I love my fans. Shannon Greenland dreaded reading and writing as a kid. Ironic, as she’s now a successful award-winning author. Her 5-book series for young adults, The Specialists, as well as her other novels, received such honors as National Booksellers Best, Daphne du Maurier and Romantic Times recognition, National Readers Choice, CAPA nominee, Aspen Gold Readers Choice Award, Holt Medallion and the Popular Paperback award from the American Library Association. Penguin Publishing launched Greenland’s latest novel The Summer My Life Began in May 2012, and brings her entire spy series to e-form this winter. When not writing, Shannon’s eager for adventure outside of a book’s pages. Hiking, rafting, climbing, caving, swimming, snorkeling, sailing, surfing, mountain biking, spelunking, canoeing, power lifting, running, camping, para sailing . . . she’s done it all. Originally from Tennessee, the world traveler divides her time between Florida and Virginia where she mentors, tutors, and teaches math and gives authors talks at area schools. Website: ShannonGreenland.com Twitter: @ShannonGreenlan Facebook: Shannon Greenland Goodreads: Shannon Greenland
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I had published this first book in the Blood Drain Series. Blood Drain Angel's Story but was lied to and they messed up the book and said it was my fault and would not redo it. so i am working on rewriting it and adding more of the book . to make it better. So i will be looking for a new publisher. and will republish it again and then i will market and push the book. this one is still live so far until i republish then i will put that one . so only ones will have the first edition with the mistake they did and stuff will be the ones that buys it before i republish. i will have the cover some what different then this one i have not had that one made yet. so until i get it done. i will be writing up a storm.
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**ANNOUNCEMENT** Hey ya'll so I reported that High Rollers is done and will be on Ebook this Friday. Welllllllll......pre-orders are now available on my site for the paperback which will be arriving in 2 weeks. I have a secret though. To those who pre-order I came up with my own line of *official book junkie* and *official skate junkie* wristbands and will be giving one free with purchase. Go to http://envyred.com and click on the store
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As a child Promise Brown lived the life that every girl in the ghetto would have loved to live. Her parents, Sweet Pea and Biggs, were the head of a fledging drug empire that stretched from coast to coast. They were way passed hood rich but refused to leave the hood—the same place that contributed to their downfall. The hood bred jealousy and envy which would ultimately affect the Brown's livelihood.
Just when Promise had gotten use to the good life things went downhill. Her parents were arrested and later imprisoned because of a snitch who hid behind false pretenses causing DEFACS to step in and make her a ward of the state.
Now all she wants is out! Escaping the clutches of the system, Promise runs back to her old hood. There she runs into her mother's childhood friend's nephew and together they devise a way to get paid.
Promise never imagined she would end up engulfed in a world of stripping and escort services. She took it all in stride for the love of the money but will the life she lead make her or break her?
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The author of this book has written his memories to the best of his recollection from birth until the present-including the events relating to Woodstock 1969
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DJGBC Authors Spotlight: Madlen Namro “Commandos”
03Apr
Madlen Namro was born in Lodz, Poland. When she was seven, maybe eight years old, children in her school used to call her Pippi Longstocking, because she would always make up stories and generally pull everyone’s leg all the time. In fact her daydreams of being a writer got serious enough for her parents to be called to school. The teacher downright told them that the best way to deal with it would be to make her commit it all to paper. So, when she was around nine, her first book was written, it was called “Talking Dog and Me”. That’s how her adventure with writing begun. She’s always seemed to have a rather lively imagination and making up stories has always been her second nature, something she never had trouble with. She believes it to be a gift from God and one that she was meant to use.
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DJGBC April 2012 Book Of The Month: “Get It Girls” By Treasure Blue
06Apr
WHEN JESSICA JONES AND HER three best friends venture out on prom night, a tragic incident turns a night of high school achievement into a crime scene, and Jessica and her girls are left with bloody hands and shattered futures. After spending years paying off a debt that wasn’t theirs, Jessica and her friends return to Harlem to find it changed. Crack is now king and its destruction has left their families in ruin and their neighborhoods consumed by its peddlers. Jessica takes a stand, and her friends are there to back her up in order to preserve their lives, their families, and their Harlem.
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I knew Dante the first moment he hugged his son but was skittish about doing it, as men often are. His son, Junior is going off to the Gulf War, and the father is choking on the inside cause he knows about combat. He knows about Nam. We are not told about the killings there. You see, that begins the beauty of Vic Fortezza's novel, Killing, on amazon.com. Amid all the words, it is Dante's silence that holds us with a fist of menace. We know from the beginning, this man is wound too tight. He is coiled and G-d Forbid Junior does not come back home.
Yes, I know Dante. He was from the other side of the street where I grew up to be safe. I mean, being white was a blessing in our Brooklyn neighborhood. Being Black was always worse, walking our mean streets. Dante's son knows one of the crowd of ten to thirty that saw Yusef Hawkins killed. He was a Black kid in the wrong neighborhood. Dante's neighborhood.
We were lucky and expected and got only belts in the mouth, a whack in the gut, a kick in the ass. But they let us live if we obeyed the law of the streets, the territories staked out between the bowling alleys and the pizza joints.Killing is Saturday Night Fever on steroids.
By that I mean, it has left me undone. The novel brings back a divisive time and guilt I never thought I owned. You see, I was on the other side of the street, deferred, crazy; seeing spirits, hearing voices during the hearing test. "Hell no, we won't go." And they, not us, were crazy.
But you know, there were Dantes.Though he says stuff that is repugnant to me, he has a case. He is from the other side and hates our protest as much as we hated the war. It was a soldier's prerogative.
Tonight, I recalled a real soldier who came home from the war, as silent as Dante. He was my childhood friend. W.W. came to visit me during a protest rally in Brooklyn. He said nothing, and I said nothing to him. I did not know where or what he had done in Nam. He wasn't telling and I wasn't asking. It was the last time we spoke until tonight.
As Dante tears at my heartstrings,though, I softened my position and felt profound guilt I had not known I carried from that last conversation with my childhood friend. The difference gave him the right to wear Vietnam Veteran caps and does not allow us to wear Vietnam protestor caps. It gives those like him who served the right to have fifty thousand names on the Washington wall. Not one protestor, I believe, is so honored, except, perhaps in isolated places like Kent State. I wanted to put down this book when one of Dante's friends says he was glad about the massacre that tore the fabric of our youth away. But I read on. Though I still hate the words, like i say, they had their case. And now the soldiers finally have the field and the final word.
Still, it is so shocking to hear them mouth the words from the inside out, but Vic Fortezza makes soldiers and dads, sons and wives, breathe with eternal, even heroic life.
This is more than a good read. The dialogue is too real, shocking, to be a play. Look, I am not no mammaluke, no sfacheem. I don't know why this extraordinary novel has taken so long to see the light of day. But I am convinced it is so real in its dialogue that resonates such truths as to make Killing a visceral explosion.
Tonight I spoke to my childhood friend, W.W., whom I did not talk to for fifty years and I said, "I'm sorry," for not understanding his right to be silent. Vic Fortezza has given voice to an era of silence, cowardice and heroism. His amazing gifts bring us a common humanity; the shared affective suffering of our mixed-up generation. "
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It's with a great deal of fanfare (hear the drumroll) and pleasure that I announce the release of my newest novel, "Annie's World: Jake's Legacy" through All Things That Matter Press. I invite all Author's Info friends and visitors check it out.
Two centuries have elapsed since global economies collapsed with little hope of resurrection. Jake Henderson wanders the former state of Texas foraging for food and witnesses the murder of a young woman. A ten-year-old girl traveling with the woman is traumatized and left speechless, orphaned by the violent act. From that day, she begins changing Jake’s life in ways he could never have imagined. Annabelle, as he chooses to call her, descends from failed genetically manufactured prototypes in the early part of the twenty-first century. This delicate appearing child is anything but, destined to become the champion of all that’s good and right in a world out of control.
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On Fire With Ginger Lee ... an introduction
“ ... there is a connection to a bridge that they draw like Jesus on a mural, in the dashboards of the American brain. It’s being built, in reality, an irresistible idea, from our country to theirs, to Nazi Germany. Verschauer’s assistant is a doctor named Josef Mengele. He has zeal to study twins. What are Nazis doing here? It’s about racism and where it is all headed; a bad seed, a party I don’t want to be at, at all, but it may be too late to do anything about the blood that is about to be spilled.”
How she envied the passion, but not the plan that had the will to believe in a cause without a care. They lynched, burned, hanged, how else could they kill? Hate, not love, was the fuel to run the engine. She had a pen and a gun, but didn’t know how to fire either effectively. She would have to really learn how to use it, she thought. She would have to have more reason to fight fire with fire. She would have to hate more to be of real service to the nation. Then she remembered the outrage to Jenny Love, and, in Stockton California, to herself. There was an evil about, skirting like a stone across the ocean that nobody could foresee because, well before Mengele came for their eyes, America already had gone blind.
What would Nelly Bly have done? She wondered. “Just get me the bullets, Buddy.”
“Ginger, Ginger Lee,” Bud Grant said, but the telephone line had already gone dead.
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