I’m an international, multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in my head. As a singer, songwriter, independent filmmaker and improv teacher and performer, my life has always been about creating and sharing what I create with others. Now that my dream to write for a living is a reality, with over a hundred titles in happy publication and no end in sight, I live in beautiful Prince Edward Island, Canada, with my giant cats, pug overlord and overlady and my Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn.

Magic woke, stretched, yawned into the late afternoon and the peaceful corner of the wood where long it slept. But what prompted its return to awareness? Pink tendrils of power unwound from deep beneath the earth, the crushed needles and heavy moss. Seeking the source of its awakening with gentle curiosity.
The sun dappled trees gave way to dark orange light while dusk washed over the forest path.
Black robes caught the edges of the remaining illumination in flickers that seemed to absorb into the lush velvet folds, passing over shoulders and cowls, across the tips of the brooms they carried deeper into the quiet of the wood.
She led them, flashes of blue satin lining appearing as she moved, her narrow toed shoes gliding over the hard packed red earth, floating as if she barely touched the ground. And though the four figures moved quickly and with seeming purpose, nature didn’t shun them or their intrusion. If anything, they were welcomed, observed with ancient delight, sent on with the trill of birdsong and the chattering interest of watching squirrels.

Lovely Witches Club

Constance glared out the window at the city below, winking lights mocking her as the tiny seed of power she'd managed to salvage, the teensy part she'd kept well hidden against the fear this day might come, whimpered its fear inside her. The Lovely Witches might have thought they defeated her, but she wasn't done, wasn't out of the game. With this seed she could build her magic anew, stolen from others, taken from those less worthy. Constance Cooper would rise again and when she did, they would be sorry.


Even more so, the witches of this wretched place. They kept her waiting. She wasn't accustomed to that, though she was certain she knew why. The loss of the Island's leadership surely had put her at a disadvantage in the eyes of the mainlanders. But she wasn't about to let that stop her now.


She had too much work to do, and she needed their help in the interim.


Chapter 33: Epilogue