#TheBlackMage Series New Cover Reveals: The Black Mage series by Rachel E. Carter

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These covers are for new editions for The Black Mage, a YA fantasy series. They will not be available for purchase until 1/26/17 (book 4, Last Stand, preorder will go up same day). The new editions will have new covers, fresh edits, updated content. Please note that the old editions of the series (for books 1-3) will be removed from all vendors between now – 1/23. If you would like to be notified when the new editions are available to purchase from all ebook retailers, you can follow her on Amazon or BookBub.

Would you like to start reading the series now for free? Rachel is giving out the prequel novella (told in Prince Darren’s point-of-view) if you sign up for her newsletter (www.subscribepage.com/rachelecarternonheir) >>she also notifies readers of new releases, giveaways, and sales first.

Add the series to your TBR on Goodreads

first-year-cover

Magic. Romance. Rivals. Perfect for fans of Throne of Glass, Falling Kingdoms, and Tamora Pierce.

Fifteen-year-old Ryiah enrolls at her realm’s most notorious war school for those with magic. But there’s a catch—only fifteen will be apprenticed. Competition is fierce and she trusts no one, especially the arrogant Prince Darren… Will she survive, or will her dream go down in flames?

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Sixteen-year-old Ryiah is an apprentice of Combat, her school’s most notorious faction. When she finishes, she will be a war mage, but in order to do so, she has to survive four years traveling across Jerar, training with a master she hates, her old nemesis, Priscilla, and Prince Darren, her sometimes-rival sometimes… more?

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Twenty-year-old Ryiah is a black mage of Combat, but she’s not the Black Mage. Yet. She’s had her eyes on the legendary robe for as long as she can remember, and in just one year, she will have a chance at her country’s prestigious—and only—tourney for war mages… Too bad she is going up against a certain prince—the one person she has yet to beat.

last-stand-cover

Ryiah’s world was shattered the night she discovered King Blayne’s nefarious plans. Now, she has to betray the one she loves most in order to save the realm from war. Ry finds herself on a perilous mission to help the rebels and convince the kingdom of Pythus not to honor its pact with the corrupt king of Jerar.

non-heir-cover

Prince. Prodigy. Mage. Perfect for fans of Throne of Glass, Falling Kingdoms, and Tamora Pierce.

This prequel novella is set before the events of First Year (The Black Mage Book 1), following Prince Darren as a child through adolescence and his first run-in with Ryiah at the Academy of Magic. Readers discover the dark backstory between the two princes and their father, as well as the ensuing events that shaped Darren into the Academy’s most prodigal mage.

author

Rachel E. Carter is a YA & NA author who hoards coffee and books. She has a weakness for villains and Mr. Darcy love interests. Her first series is the bestselling YA fantasy, The Black Mage, and she has plenty more books to come.

Sign up for her newsletter to stay up to date on all new releases, giveaways, and sales: http://bit.ly/rachelecarter.

Official Site/Facebook/Instagram/Twitter/Pinterest/Tumblr/Goodreads/Wattpad

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Magical reading, 

Jordan

 

Review: Incandescent by Shannon Avangeline

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What if you had a destiny you knew nothing about?

What if it was to kill the boy you love?

Being sixteen is hard. Paige Thornton doesn’t even feel like she belongs in her own family! So she really shouldn’t be that upset that her flighty mom has uprooted her and her twin sisters again to drag them to live with their Grams in Seahaven, NC. However, Seahaven is full of surprises for Paige. A new school, a gorgeous new boy, and a magical heritage that she had no idea about. But somehow this boy, Luc, is too perfect.

Lucian Burke knows that he shouldn’t let himself get too close to Paige. He’s only supposed to watch her and report back. Unfortunately, things don’t always go as planned. As long as he keeps his distance, things will be fine.

What will happen to this modern day Romeo and Juliet?

Will they ever find their happiness, or will it all end in blood and ashes?

review

3/5 Stars 

***I received this book as a gift via the author in exchange for an honest review 

PROS:

  • The intro is fantastic. It sucks you in and keeps you intrigued, absolutely curious about what’s going to happen to the mysterious baby and whether the unholy side of the infant will reign supreme. Celie is fierce. Her character is strong, a fighter, and oh so memorable. 
  • The underlying story of how the Coven of Light was formed, Luc’s fate, what happened to Paige’s mother; these were all enthralling, adding a layer of depth to each of their stories. The Coven of Light is complex. There’s a wonderful mix of elemental, religious, and spiritual beliefs. The use of crystals, plants, and other Earthy substances was intriguing and made the world of magic seem realistic despite the whole magical powers thing. 
  • Marlene’s love story. The whole scene with Marlene and Paige. That confession. You feel the rush of emotions, the desperation, the joy, their urge to fight for their love. 
  • Paige and Luc have chemistry. Apart from the sections where Luc sounds a little robotic, their initial meet cute and subsequent stop and go ramps up the anticipation.

CONS:

  • Secondary characters were fleeting, lacked substance, and were more there to be scapegoats than anything else. Apart from the initial introductions, they’re barely there and part of a rather dry number of high school scenes. Had these characters been developed a little more and functioned in the plot, the whole high school setting and Paige’s friendship with Reese might have been more engaging. The villains also suffered from this and  it made them far less scary, even knowing some of the horrific stuff they’d done in the past. 
  • There was a lot of fade to black in terms of relationship development between Paige and Luc. While this was used to show time passing, there wasn’t enough actual conversation and budding emotions to grow with the story-it’s just sort of there. I would have liked to have seen less of the high school random scenes that didn’t really advance the plot and more of Paige and Luc learning about and respecting each other. I needed more of the falling, not the totally swooning, head over heels in what seems like days. 
  • That adrenaline rush of an ending came so late in the story that it felt anti-climactic. After wading through the fade to black sections, being hit with such an action-packed and dangerous turn of events didn’t hit quite as hard as it could have. Pacing was unbalanced and threw off the story. Had there been more of threat earlier, or more of Paige finding out about her powers/training sooner in the story, the pacing would have been greatly improved.

If you like any of the following, you’ll enjoy this:

Magical reading,

Jordan

Review: The Dead House – The Naida Tapes by Dawn Kurtagich

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There is a box. A box that should never have been discovered. And a warning beneath the lid.

This was for Kaitlyn. It was a mistake. Forget this box and leave the Isle. Don’t look any further.
I’m begging you. N.C.D. 2005

After the inferno that swept through Elmbride High, claiming the lives of three teenagers and causing one student, Carly Johnson, to disappear, Naida Chounan-Dupre was locked away for the good of society.

But that wasn’t the end of the story.

Because you can’t play with the devil and not pay the price.

The chilling, psychological horror of The Dead House returns with never-before-seen footage of the Naida tapes.

review

4/5 Stars 

What I love about Dawn Kurtagich is her ability to make the uncanny ridiculously terrifying. The mind is a dark and twisted place, and as humans, we have an astounding capacity to become consumed by our thoughts. What Kurtagich excels at is making the reader question the characters, to doubt them, and to sift through the story and fight hard to uncover what’s real before it’s too late. Is it supernatural or are the characters just having a mental break? You decide.

Some scenes are graphic, grotesque and may be triggering for some readers. Kurtagich is never short on description and I eat that stuff up. If you’re one of those horror film lovers who gets ecstatic over Paranormal Activity, Insidious, or Sinister, pick this up. 

The story is lively. There’s absolutely never a dull moment. From the initial intro to the new characters and relearning the old. There’s mystery, terror, intrigue, and such darkness it will consume you. 

If you haven’t read The Dead House in a while, you might want to revisit the ending. I read hundreds of books a year so some mentions of characters really threw me and there wasn’t enough reiteration of the earlier book at the time they were mentioned to make me feel like I had a grip on the back story.

Naida’s dead house. Chills. Her fear, her anxiety, the overwhelming sense of dread that she’s going to let the word out. The way she mutilates herself. EVERYTHING is twisted, and dark, and made of a fantastic combination of desperation and hope. 

For the most part, the characters were well-developed and memorable. Scott felt wishy-washy as a love interest and didn’t have much personality. Apart from one sweet scene, it was a bit of a let down. 

The camera footage. You truly feel like you’re watching. Each bizarre, weird thing becomes doubly disturbing when Naida attempts to explain. Everything you think you know, maybe, just maybe, you know nothing. 🙂 

If you like any of the following, you’ll enjoy this:

Suspenseful reading, 

Jordan

Review: The Women in the Walls by Amy Lukavics

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Lucy Acosta’s mother died when she was three. Growing up in a Victorian mansion in the middle of the woods with her cold, distant father, she explored the dark hallways of the estate with her cousin, Margaret. They’re inseparable—a family.

When her aunt Penelope, the only mother she’s ever known, tragically disappears while walking in the woods surrounding their estate, Lucy finds herself devastated and alone. Margaret has been spending a lot of time in the attic. She claims she can hear her dead mother’s voice whispering from the walls. Emotionally shut out by her father, Lucy watches helplessly as her cousin’s sanity slowly unravels. But when she begins hearing voices herself, Lucy finds herself confronting an ancient and deadly legacy that has marked the women in her family for generations.

review

3/5 Stars

+++Contains graphic violence, grotesque imagery, self-inflicted mutilation, and scenes that could be disturbing to some readers. 

I loved Daughters Unto Devils so when I saw The Women in the Walls I was gleeful. It felt like a lovely early Christmas present for my horror-obsessed little heart. Then I started reading. I waited. And waited. And waited some more for something to happen and finally it did, but it took ages. The pacing is slow. So much so that the tension doesn’t build like it should. Scenes that should have sucked all the air out of the room with the sheer creepiness of what was going on fell flat and missed their mark entirely in some places. 

The setting didn’t quite fit with the story. The Women in the Walls read like a Gothic novel, but was set (I’m assuming because of a few-very few-references) in present time. There were so many details that were left out. It bugged me that I had no clue how old the main characters were. All we know is that they are not legal adults. I was at a loss for what Lucy looked like. Descriptions of people were sparse. Apart from Lucy’s habit of self-mutilation, we really know nothing about her hobbies, her interests, her friendships, nothing. There are measly references to her mother, and some moderately detailed memories of her and Penelope, but that’s it. Lucy’s closeness to Margaret was stressed throughout, but there are no flashbacks, no nostalgia, and certainly no friendly interactions as the story evolves. If anything, they look like enemies. It’s hard to invest in their relationship when it felt as though it was never there to begin with. 

What Amy Lukavics excels at is those spine-tingling, chilling images that are blunt and brutal and made of nightmares. The horror is grotesque, packs a punch, and so bizarre that it takes a second for it to process and then, boom. I said this about Daughters Unto Devils as well, this would make a fantastic scary movie. Some statements are disturbing on levels that sink their teeth into you and keep going, gnawing at your thoughts. I can’t get them out of my head and that shows you how powerful those scenes are. 

The ending. The bulk of the horror happens in the last 15 or so percent of the book. What gets you is the anticipation. You know something terrible is coming. Something so bad that you persevere and wade through the slowness. Will it be paranormal? Will it be bloody? Will Lucy make it to the end of the book? What happened? All of these questions nag and plague and will drive you mad with need. I had to know. I pushed and fought and when I got there…

Holy plot twist. That’s some next level horror. The clues are minimal. You might expect it a little, but the full extent of what happens-never. 

That finale. The gore is enough to keep you awake for days. Read it with the lights on. You were warned. 

If you like any of the following, you’ll enjoy this:

Hypnotic reading, 

Jordan

Promo: Twice Upon A Time by Hope Irving

Once upon a time, I was Morgann, a 9th century Irish calligrapher-monk.

Deirdre was my assignment, my forbidden love, a witch with whom I wrote a coveted book.

Unfortunately, our story didn’t get a chance to become a fairy tale, it turned out as a famous urban legend referred as The Black Angel Book. 

In order to protect the book from getting in to the wrong hands, Deirdre cast a spell. One where I remember and she forgets. Under her spell, our souls travel from body to body until we find each other again. Eventually.

My quest is to find Deirdre, in whatever body her soul inhabits and trigger her memory. Only, the woman I find 1200 years later is not what I was expecting. 

Rose is not my type but my soul yearns for her. Every sign tells me that she is my Deirdre. How do I convince this broken, quiet and unbelieving woman that she is my twice upon a time?

teaser

 
Excerpt
Centuries ago I was Morgann. Albeit I am neither immortal nor a supernatural creature of any kind, I am now an urban legend. For I am something else.
 
I am a soul that gained awareness of its existence; a wandering soul inhabiting various bodies throughout their mortal life.
 
A soul longing to be reunited with its soulmate.
 
Like the fairytale, you know, “Once upon a time…” And the rest of the story unfolds, sometimes with torments, but always with a happy ending. Only that is not how it turned out for us.
 
So maybe we should try another story line that would end better this time. Let’s say, “Twice upon a time,” maybe?
 
Anyway. This is what I am.
 
Centuries later, this soul eventually ended up in my body. Now I feel I can speak on Morgann’s behalf, for I’m him and he’s me. We’re one.
 
Fearless and hopeful, when Morgann’s body died, his soul began its journey. His body was no longer of use but his soul had lived on, intact, searching for her frantically. Her? Well, that would be Deirdre, a powerful medicine woman accused of being a witch.
 
Some witnessed my encounter with Deirdre and what followed, back when I was still Morgann. I, Morgann, a monk working on the now infamous Book of Kells. Witch or medicine woman, I couldn’t care less because right from the start I had that gut feeling she was the one for me, even as I had simply stared at the river of shiny black hair falling down to her back. It was meant to be.
 
Kismet.
 
Yes, we were undeniably soulmates. Twist of fate? I have no idea but that was how connected our souls were and still are, somehow.  What was Deirdre doing there that day in the monastery? I didn’t dare ask. After that, I was already too involved to search for more explanation. My fate was sealed and so was hers. When we were introduced, we grasped at once that we were made for one another as long as we lived. Too bad we hadn’t foreseen our time together would be shortened by greedy people. Hopefully she was resourceful and found a way to escape our fate.
 
Let me tell you about us.
 
What did we do wrong?
 
Well, when you’re a monk, there is no such thing as falling in love and breaking the vows of celibacy but I did. When you’re a medicine woman, there is no such thing as engaging in a passionate relationship with a man, and not just any man but a monk.
 
So the medicine woman was accused of being a witch for her medicine involved plants, charms and casting spells as well. Truth be told, she was a witch. There was no doubt about it.
 
Morgann was born in Ireland in the 8th century. When exactly? Not sure. Nobody was good at keeping track around that time. For some reason, though, centuries later I had a dream about the encounter that changed everything; it happened in the year 813.
 
Shameless, Deirdre and I broke all the rules. Deirdre had been paid to write what she knew about strong medicine and spells. I was one of the chosen script monks who wrote the book in calligraphy with her, for years.
 
That meaningful book didn’t belong to us. It was theirs. So meaningful they ended up referring to it as poisonous when I’d rather call it visionary. Who were they? The sleeping partners; narrow-minded judgmental people who started to get scared of her. Of us. They needed to destroy us. Deirdre didn’t realize their attempt until it was almost too late.
 
But we had to stop them once we had apprehended their genuine intentions. Their goal was plain and simple, yet we were too blinded by our love to see it right from the start. They were seeking eternal life. But it didn’t work that way. None of them ever figured out how to cast the right spell at the right time on the chosen person.
 
When it got out of hand, people’s imagination was already at work. At once, word-of-mouth spread the tale that soon became legendary. Why? Well…who could believe in our true fate? A soul that lived on until reunited with its soulmate, come on!
 

Soon enough, our legend started. Our peculiar story and the supposedly poisonous book were referred to as the Black Angel Book.
 author

Hope Irving is the proud mother of a lovely and witty young lady, and the lucky wife of a loving and supportive husband. She’s a debut indie author who lived in Paris, France, most of her life and also in the US, where she graduated with a master degree.

She loves Nutella and Camembert cheese (not together), carrot cake and cinnamon Altoids. 


Her favorite fictional characters are Eric Northman (Sookie Stackhouse series, Charlaine Harris) and Sean Bateman (The Rules of Attraction, Bret Easton Ellis). 

Magical reading,
Jordan

Release Day Blitz: Hybrid by Apryl Baker

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 Abomination. The word follows Katyia Dragonovich, bastard daughter of the Regent of Sector Three. 
           After being turned over to the vampire clan by the only mother she has ever known, Katya swears vengeance. Although terrified, she boldly faces her new future, even if it’s an uncertain one with a man who is as cold as the mountain’s ice caps. 
          When the Vampire clan discovers one of their new turns has been infected with ravager blood, they rally for her extermination. They cannot allow anything carrying the mark of the monstrous creatures that have overrun their world to live among them. 
          But Roman Stratcovich, rightful king of the Vampire clans, has other plans. This hybrid woman—part witch, part vampire, part ravager—may be the secret to gaining what he’s lost. More than that, however, she’s also the key to unlocking his cold heart. 
The question is, does he want her to? 

teaser

 
auth
 
USA Today Bestselling Author
 
So who am I? Well, I’m the crazy girl with an imagination that never shuts up. I LOVE scary movies. My friends laugh at me when I scare myself watching them and tells me to stop watching them, but who doesn’t love to get scared? I grew up in a small town nestled in the southern mountains of West Virginia where I spent days roaming around in the woods, climbing trees, and causing general mayhem. Nights I would stay up reading Nancy Drew by flashlight under the covers until my parents yelled at me to go to sleep.
 
Growing up in a small town, I learned a lot of values and morals, I also learned parents have spies everywhere and there’s always someone to tell your mama you were seen kissing a particular boy on a particular day just a little too long. So when you get grounded, what is there left to do? Read! My Aunt Jo gave me my first real romance novel. It was a romance titled Lord Margrave’s Deception.” I remember it fondly. But I also learned I had a deep and abiding love of mysteries and anything paranormal. As I grew up, I started to write just that and would entertain my friends with stories featuring them as main characters.
 
Now, I live Huntersville, NC and a small town in WV where I entertain my niece and nephew and watch the cats get teased by the birds and laugh myself silly when they swoop down and then dive back up just out of reach. The cats start yelling something fierce…lol.
 
I love books, I love writing books, and I love entertaining people with my silly stories.
Epic reading, 
Jordan

Spotlight Tour & Giveaway: Labyrinth Lost by Zoraida Cordova

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Nothing says Happy Birthday like summoning the spirits of your dead relatives. 

Alex is a bruja, the most powerful witch in a generation…and she hates magic. At her Deathday celebration, Alex performs a spell to rid herself of her power. But it backfires. Her whole family vanishes into thin air, leaving her alone with Nova, a brujo boy she can’t trust. A boy whose intentions are as dark as the strange marks on his skin.

The only way to get her family back is to travel with Nova to Los Lagos, a land in-between, as dark as Limbo and as strange as Wonderland…

Praise for Labyrinth Lost

“This work is a magical journey from start to finish… A compelling must-have for teens.”

School Library Journal, STARRED review

Córdova’s (the Vicious Deep series) magic-infused, delightfully dark story introduces readers to an engrossing, Latin American–inspired fantasy setting and an irresistible heroine.”

Publishers Weekly

“A brilliant brown-girl-in-Brooklyn update on Alice in Wonderland and Dante’s Inferno. Very creepy, very magical, very necessary.”

Daniel José Older, New York Times bestselling author of Shadowshaper

“Labyrinth Lost is more like reading Paradise Found. Zoraida Córdova brings us a new generation of witches, enchanting and complex. And every page is filled with magic.” 

Danielle Page, New York Times bestselling author of Dorothy Must Die

Córdova’s world will leave you breathless, and her magic will ignite an envy so green you’ll wish you were born a bruja. Delightfully dark and enchanting. An un-putdownable book.” 

-Dhonielle Clayton, author of The Belles and Shiny Broken Pieces

“Córdova’s rich exploration of Latin American culture, her healthy portrayal of bisexuality and her unique voice allow this novel to stand out among its many peers.”

–RT Book Reviews

“Cordova draws inspiration from Ecuadorian, Spanish, African, Mexican, and Caribbean folklore and mythology to craft a page-turning tale about a young bruja unsure of her place in the world.”

Bustle.com

 “Córdova pulls elements from Greek mythology and Spanish and Latin American legends to craft a memorable world in Los Lagos, a supernatural realm that is as fascinating as it is threatening. The history and customs of Alex’s family’s type of witchery are also carefully constructed, giving readers a complete world to sink into with satisfaction and wonder.”

-Bulletin of the Center for Children’s Books

“This succeeds with its lush use of Latin American mythologies, an unexpected love story, and, above all, in Alex’s complicated relationship with her family. Alex is a necessary heroine, and this dark fantasy nicely”

-Booklist

Excerpt

1

Follow our voices, sister.

Tell us the secret of your death.

—-Resurrection Canto, Book of Cantos

 

The second time I saw my dead aunt Rosaria, she was dancing. 


Earlier that day, my mom had warned me, pressing a long, red fingernail on the tip of my nose, “Alejandra, don’t go downstairs when the Circle arrives.”
The second time I saw my dead aunt Rosaria, she was dancing.

But I was seven and asked too many questions. Every Sunday, cars piled up in our driveway, down the street, and around the corner of our old, narrow house in Sunset Park, Brooklyn. Mom’s Circle usually brought cellophane–wrapped dishes and jars of dirt and tubs of brackish water that made the Hudson River look clean. This time, they carried something more.

When my sisters started snoring, I threw off my covers and crept down the stairs. The floorboards were uneven and creaky, but I was good at not being seen. Fuzzy, yellow streetlight shone through our attic window and followed me down every flight until I reached the basement.

A soft hum made its way through the thin walls. I remember thinking I should listen to my mom’s warning and go back upstairs. But our house had been restless all week, and Lula, Rose, and I were shoved into the attic, out of the way while the grown–ups prepared the funeral. I wanted out. I wanted to see.

The night was moonless and cold one week after the Witch’s New Year, when Aunt Rosaria died of a sickness that made her skin yellow like hundred–year–old paper and her nails turn black as coal. We tried to make her beautiful again. My sisters and I spent all day weaving good luck charms from peonies, corn husks, and string—-one loop over, under, two loops over, under. Not even the morticians, the Magos de Muerte, could fix her once–lovely face.

Aunt Rosaria was dead. I was there when we mourned her. I was there when we buried her. Then, I watched my father and two others shoulder a dirty cloth bundle into the house, and I knew I couldn’t stay in bed, no matter what my mother said.

So I opened the basement door.

Red light bathed the steep stairs. I leaned my head toward the light, toward the beating sound of drums and sharp plucks of fat, nylon guitar strings.

A soft mew followed by whiskers against my arm made my heart jump to the back of my rib cage. I bit my tongue to stop the scream. It was just my cat, Miluna. She stared at me with her white, glowing eyes and hissed a warning, as if telling me to turn back. But Aunt Rosaria was my godmother, my family, my friend. And I wanted to see her again.

“Sh!” I brushed the cat’s head back.

Miluna nudged my leg, then ran away as the singing started.

I took my first step down, into the warm, red light. Raspy voices called out to our gods, the Deos, asking for blessings beyond the veil of our worlds. Their melody pulled me step by step until I was crouched at the bottom of the landing.

They were dancing.

Brujas and brujos were dressed in mourning white, their faces painted in the aspects of the dead, white clay and black coal to trace the bones. They danced in two circles—-the outer ring going clockwise, the inner counterclockwise—hands clasped tight, voices vibrating to the pulsing drums.

And in the middle was Aunt Rosaria.

Her body jerked upward. Her black hair pooled in the air like she was suspended in water. There was still dirt on her skin. The white skirt we buried her in billowed around her slender legs. Black smoke slithered out of her open mouth. It weaved in and out of the circle—-one loop over, under, two loops over, under. It tugged Aunt Rosaria higher and higher, matching the rhythm of the canto.

Then, the black smoke perked up and changed its target. It could smell me. I tried to backpedal, but the tiles were slick, and I slid toward the circle. My head smacked the tiles. Pain splintered my skull, and a broken scream lodged in my throat.

The music stopped. Heavy, tired breaths filled the silence of the pulsing red dark. The enchantment was broken. Aunt Rosaria’s reanimated corpse turned to me. Her body purged black smoke, lowering her back to the ground. Her ankles cracked where the bone was brittle, but still she took a step. Her dead eyes gaped at me. Her wrinkled mouth growled my name: Alejandra.

She took another step. Her ankle turned and broke at the joint, sending her flying forward. She landed on top of me. The rot of her skin filled my nose, and grave dirt fell into my eyes.

Tongues clucked against crooked teeth. The voices of the circle hissed, “What’s the girl doing out of bed?”

There was the scent of extinguished candles and melting wax. Decay and perfume oil smothered me until they pulled the body away.

My mother jerked me up by the ear, pulling me up two flights of stairs until I was back in my bed, the scream stuck in my throat like a stone.

Never,” she said. “You hear me, Alejandra? Never break a Circle.”

I lay still. So still that after a while, she brushed my hair, thinking I had fallen asleep.

I wasn’t. How could I ever sleep again? Blood and rot and smoke and whispers filled my head.

“One day you’ll learn,” she whispered.

Then she went back down the street–lit stairs, down into the warm red light and to Aunt Rosaria’s body. My mother clapped her hands, drums beat, strings plucked, and she said, “Again.”

CHECK OUT THIS AWESOME COLORING PAGE 

Coloring Page

authzorida

Website/Labyrinth Lost Site/Facebook/Twitter/Instagram/Tumblr/Youtube

Zoraida Córdova was born in Ecuador and raised in Queens, New York. She is the author of the Vicious Deep trilogy, the On the Verge series, and the Brooklyn Brujas series. She loves black coffee, snark, and still believes in magic. Send her a tweet @Zlikeinzorro or visit her at zoraidacordova.com.

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Magical reading, 

Jordan