Taken by the Lady of the Lake by @meganslayer @changelingpress #romance #paranormal #ghosts

 

Taken by the Lady of the Lake (Taken 12) by Megan Slayer

BIN: 011758-03831

Genres: Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal, Romance, Urban Fantasy

Themes: 2nd Chance Romance, Capture Fantasy, Elves /Dragons /Magical Creatures, Magic /Sorcery /Witchcraft, Murder Mystery, Shapeshifters

Series: Taken (#12)

Book Length: Novel

Page Count: 112

She’s an urban legend. He’s adrift. With a little magic, they’ll discover their fates are entwined.

Amanda Fortune never expected to be left in the lake, but after her murder and subsequent dumping, that’s exactly where she is. She’s become an urban legend, her ghost seen only by a very few. She longs to have a second chance at life, but that’s not possible when you’re dead. Is it?

With the right circumstances, anything is possible.

Sawyer Gibson doesn’t know what he’s meant to do in life. He has abilities to read the Fates, but his talents aren’t needed in the town of Eerie. Everyone here has magic. He’s nothing special. But Aunt Chloe is dying, and she knows more than Sawyer ever thought possible. Amanda is -- was -- her best friend. So Aunt Chloe sends Sawyer on a chase to find Amanda’s killer.

But Amanda’s a myth. A ghost. And ghosts can’t be seen, right?

The moment Sawyer lays eyes on Amanda, he’s smitten. There’s the tiny problem of her being a ghost… but that detail won’t stop Sawyer, even if someone else thinks it will.

Buy a copy here: https://www.changelingpress.com/taken-by-the-lady-of-the-lake-taken-12-b-3831

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GBLS9PFK

Excerpt:

Copyright ©2026 Megan Slayer

 “When I was a little boy, my aunt told me about her friend, Amanda. She said her friend was a lovely person and so sweet, but she disappeared. For the rest of her life, my Aunt Chloe wanted to know what happened to her friend.”

“Chloe?” She didn’t venture closer, but the mere mention of the name pricked her curiosity again.

“My mother’s sister. Do you know Chloe? Or Marie, my mother?” he asked. “My mother died five years ago, but Chloe held on. Her magic is fading.”

“No,” she whispered. Chloe had the strongest magic. She should be just fine.

“She told me you liked being here. She said this was your favorite place and you’d spend hours among the trees and around the water, existing in nature. She said you might have even been part woodland nymph because you were here so much. She loved the nights you’d go dancing together, and the days spent talking and mixing spells,” he said. “She said she was never the same after you disappeared.”

“No?” She couldn’t be excited. Not yet. She needed some detail only the true Chloe would know. Something only she could tell this man. “I can’t trust you.”

“I know you can’t.” He sighed again. “Why would you?”

The last man she’d thought she could trust had murdered her.

“She knew about the abuse and that you wanted to get away. She was trying to figure out a plan to get you out of that house without him knowing. To this day, she deals with the guilt of not working fast enough. You deserved better.”

She emerged from behind the tree. “What did he steal from me?” If he knew this, then he’d spoken to Chloe. Only her best friend would remember she never let go of her locket.

“Besides your magic? He stole your necklace,” the man said. “It was your favorite piece of jewelry.”

“Why?” She held onto the tree for stability, even if her legs weren’t holding her up.

“Because it came from your mother and was one of the few things you had to remember her by.”

If she’d been standing on her feet, she would’ve collapsed. “Who are you?”

“Sawyer Gibson.” He stood and held out his hand. “I don’t know where you are, but I hear you and I want to see you. I want to help you.”

Changing with the Seasons of Life

I’m a night owl through and through (so is my son, which is its own blessing and curse). I can’t remember a time I didn’t feel more productive in the evening. I’ve always felt more comfortable in the dark and cozy time in the night, when everything is quiet, everything is done, and I can finally let my mind play.

That is, until I had my son.

Turns out, as a mom, there is never a time when everything is done. The evening has transitioned for me from a time when I could finally relax and let my imagination run wild, to a time when I have to try and fit in the million things I wasn’t able to get done during the day. To the time when I still have my ear half listening for cries and whimpers, even though my son has been sleeping through the night for almost two years. To a time when I’m so depleted and exhausted, I have nothing left to give to anyone. Not even my story.

At first I thought I needed better systems. Ways to get more done, so there was less remaining to be done at the end of the day. And that has helped. I do feel like I have more mental bandwidth now that I have improved my system. But still, at the end of the day, I felt too tired to do anything. My body and brain were exhausted. Far too tired for the exciting—but also demanding—work of creating. While I love writing, it takes a lot of energy, and focus. And I just didn’t have that at night anymore.

I evaluated all the productivity advice I’ve heard over the years, and tried to think of another solution, but the only one I could come up with was to start my day writing. Its advice many have given before. Focus the beginning of your day on what matters most, when you have the most energy to give. Before, I’d never thought this advice would work for me. Because I’ve always been a night owl writer.

But desperation is the mother of invention, so I decided to give it a try. I set my alarm for six am, went to bed early and prayed for a good result. I even set up a reward system, to incentivize myself for getting up early, fully prepared that it would be like pulling teeth to get myself out of bed before the crack of dawn. And for the first week, I employed that system. But early on, I discovered something I never could have guessed.

I liked getting up early.

It didn’t take long before I began adapted my whole life around waking up early. I was naturally going to bed earlier, so I could get up earlier. I was even waking up before my alarm went off some mornings. I was getting mad when I couldn’t get up early. Because I found that I enjoyed that quiet time in the morning more than the quiet time at night. Because I wasn’t exhausted. I wasn’t already tapped out and only capable of doomscrolling on Instagram. I was able to be me. The person I was before all the mental labor of being a mom.

I started getting more writing done. I am now almost halfway finished with a revision/rewrite project I’ve been wanting to do for years. I’ve been consistently making progress, which I haven’t been able to do for over a year, and I couldn’t be happier.

When I first started this new schedule, I feared it would make the end of the day worse. That I would be run even more ragged than before, since I started the day earlier, but I haven’t found that to be the case. Sure I’m tired at the end of the day, and more inclined to go right to bed after my son falls asleep, but no more so than before. As I’ve made this change, I’ve noticed that getting up early gives me more energy. Taking time for myself in the morning, to focus on me before everyone else, has filled my cup in a way I’d been missing.

I wasn’t just able to do my writing, but to be a better mom too. I was also able to be more patient with my son, because I wasn’t waking up and instantly being thrown into mom mode. I was able to play with him in the morning, because I was already awake and enjoying my day. I found I was writing more. Not just in the morning, but any time I could find. I’m now more inclined to pick up my writing than I was before, because I’m already connected to my story from my morning writing session. 

The toddler stage is just a season, and I’m sure that once my son is through this season I’ll need to reevaluate my writing time again. Maybe in the future, writing at night will make more sense. Maybe in the future getting up early won’t be possible (I’m already dreading having to get him up another hour earlier for kindergarten in a few years), but for now I’m changing with the season of life I am in. And I’m grateful I’ve have found a way to be the mom I want to be, while also finding a little time for myself and my own goals. Even if it’s at an ungodly early hour of day.

So if you’re struggling and finding at this moment you can’t fit in what you need, or your losing yourself to the stage of life you are in, take a moment to evaluated what you need. Try to figure out where you can find time for those things, even if its somewhere you might not expect. Play around, experiment, try something new and see if it works. It might not. But once you find what does, and you’re able to find a way to fit yourself into whatever this tough stage may be, you’ll be glad you did.

NEW RELEASE - paranormal romance Hawk’s Heart #ParanormalRomanceSeries #RomanceNovels #fiction #LoveStories

Hawk’s Heart (Stranger Creatures book 5) is now available on amazon as well as other ebook sellers. The series is finally complete! Each book features a different couple fighting for their happily-ever-after. Hawk’s Heart is Luke and Jordan’s story.

About Hawk’s Heart:

Interior designer and empathic psy, Jordan Hayes, is overworked and stressed out. With her best friend and business partner, Val, away on her honeymoon and their office manager out on medical leave, work is piling up into a nearly unmanageable mess. Even worse, her ex is blackmailing her with a cryptic threat about exposing the fact that she’s an empathic psy. Jordan has never met anyone with abilities like hers until she crosses paths with a sexy, scarred, and seemingly cold-hearted man who is intent on bursting her bubble of safety. 

Nobody’s ever accused empathic psy and hawk shifter, Luke Daniels, of being a cinnamon roll but he’s not as cold and mean as he appears. Life has made him guarded, but when he meets interior designer Jordan, he falls fast and hard for the kind, beautiful psy. But would she ever want a guy like him?

An entrepreneur attempting to create an indestructible empire of greed has his sights set on Jordan, convinced she’s an easy target. Jordan and Luke will have to put everything on the line to survive and save the lives of dozens of captives. Will the bond growing between the two of them get severed or will they win the fight against everyone and everything standing in their way? 

Excerpt:

Jordan pulled up to a spot on the street near the front of 3054 Saint James Street. The house looked pretty new. Hopefully the client would be requesting a simple decorating job. When taking the call, Jordan had been distracted by the electrical fire that had erupted at a light socket when she’d flipped a switch. Good thing she kept a fire extinguisher on hand and knew a good electrician who owed her a favor. Involving her landlord would no doubt result in another rent increase or some other headache. Mr. Pulfrey wasn’t the most helpful, or ethical, landlord, not even close, but the office complex where she and her best friend and business partner, Valerie Taylor, rented space for Jordan and Taylor’s Design and Renovation was in a great location.

She grabbed her purse and messenger bag and speed walked to the door. Being a few minutes late to meet a potential client for the first time was not a great look, but her late arrival was the least of her problems. The recent rent increase on her office building had been unexpectedly steep. Then, there were the texts her ex had been sending, demanding money in exchange for keeping her secret, and of course, the uninvited skunk that had stunk up all of the inventory in her warehouse.

With a sigh, she rang the doorbell and did her best to put her worries aside. The man who opened the door was so fine, it took her breath away. A lock of pale blond hair hung over his right eye, nearly obscuring it, which drew her attention to a thick scar that began underneath that same eye and ended at the bottom of his jaw. And his mouth, oh, damn. She would bet her entire shoe collection, which had become fairly extensive, thanks to the vintage shop she’d recently discovered on the corner of Briar Street and Bella Rosa Road, that he could give a scorching-hot kiss with those luscious lips.

Knock it off! You are on a break from men, for good reasons, and this guy looks dangerous. Mm, so dangerous. She gave herself a mental slap but found it hard to find her voice because the strikingly gorgeous blond man standing in the doorway was looking at her so intently. His irises were a mix of icy blue and indigo shades, reminding her of barren trees against a snowy sky. Do I have lipstick on my teeth? She ran her tongue over her teeth. They didn’t feel slick or goopy. Had she buttoned her shirt up wrong? She’d been in a hellfire hurry to get out the door that morning. She gave her outfit a subtle glance. Nope. Both her shirt and skirt were fine. She ran a hand through her wavy, chin-length hair and felt no obvious snarls.

Snarls were rarely a problem for her anymore since she’d chopped the long length off one day in a fit of annoyance. Ward had made a passive-aggressive comment about her shorter haircut and her new red boots, which had been strike two against him. She kicked memories of Ward out of her mind because he didn’t deserve to be taking up space in her head, but then she was back to wondering about the man staring at her as if he had just discovered an alien species standing on his front porch.

“Um, Max Gardener?” Ugh. She hated that she sounded so timid and unsure of herself.

“No. I’m Luke. Luke Daniels. One of Max’s business partners. Are you the interior designer?”

“Yes. I’m Jordan Hayes.”

He nodded. “You can wait for Max in the office inside. He’ll show you the other houses shortly.” He remained in the doorway, expression guarded, watching her.

A flush creeped up her neck and into her cheeks at the scrutiny, but she stared right back at him. Light-blond hair dusted his arms and the black-ink lines of a tattoo peeked out from under his left T-shirt sleeve. Yum, tattoos. She wondered how many tattoos he had and where they were on his body. What would his skin feel like under her hands? Wait, what had he meant when he said Mr. Gardener would show her the other houses? She must have missed a lot more information than she’d thought during the original phone call. Or maybe she’d forgotten to leave herself more detailed notes.

With Val out of town on her honeymoon and their office manager, Sheila, out on medical leave after a bicycling accident, Jordan was overwhelmed.

“Come on in.” He held the door open for her.

Jordan hesitated. She didn’t usually meet clients by herself, especially not outside the office, but she’d had no choice since Val was in Belize and Sheila was recovering from surgery. The man’s truth didn’t come right to her, effortlessly, the way most people’s emotions hit her. She took a quick peek around the outside of his mind to get a better sense of him and felt the interference of a strong shield. Interesting.

Though she wanted to search a little more, to take a peek and see what was beneath his stony exterior, she tried not to invade anyone’s mind space unless it was a matter of safety. He didn’t seem to be a creep who was preparing to attack her, but a woman alone couldn’t be too careful. After a slightly harder push, she made it just past the outer edge of his mind space. She felt an array of his emotions, which were blunted by his shield, but none of what she felt from him seemed harmful, at least not toward her, but there was something else. Something…more to him, as if a bit of wildness waited inside him.

Purchase links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/b0h6nxq9vg

Apple Books: https://books.apple.com/us/book/hawks-heart/id6792861130

Google Books: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/christina_lynn_lambert_hawk_s_heart?id=wH72EQAAQBAJ    

Kobo Books: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/hawk-s-heart-4

 

If you’d like to follow me on social media for my latest book updates and recommendations, poems, contest info, and other fun stuff, you can find me at:

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Christina-Lynn-Lambert/e/B01MCYK0K7

BookBub:  https://www.bookbub.com/authors/christina-lynn-lambert

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/christinalynnlambert

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15900423.Christina_Lynn_Lambert

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/christinalynnlambert

Wordpress: https://christinalynnlambertwordpress.com

Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/cllambauthor.bsky.social

 

Starting the Celebration

 December marks my 25th anniversary being a published author, and I'm starting the celebration early. I've planned a book signing tour and a few other things, but I wanted to share a recent profile from a literary magazine called Pie, Pages & Porch Talk (formerly Ignitivefy magazine). It's a product of author Savannah McCann's publishing group in Texas (hence the down-home flavor). The story is courtesy of a friend from my newspaper days, and I've included the magazine link below. Enjoy!

A Few Words with Author Tim Smith

By T.R. Savage

With 30 published books and a ton of blogs and newspaper stories to his credit, Tim Smith of Dayton, Ohio knows a thing or two about telling a compelling story. The award-winning, bestselling author didn’t enter the publishing game until his midlife crisis period, but he’s made up for lost time.    

“I did a lot of writing in high school and college, and I’ve always been an avid reader,” he said. “My college major was music education, and I taught for a few years before moving into human services, but writing was always a secret desire. I had an idea for a character and story that had been bouncing around in my head for years. One day I challenged myself to either write the damn thing or stop talking about it.”

That “damn thing” turned out to be a romantic spy thriller titled “Memories Die Last.” It’s set in the Florida Keys and features a former CIA agent named Nick Seven, who quit the covert ops world and now owns a trendy bar on the Gulf. By the end of the story, he’s sharing that corner of paradise with another former CIA co-worker, the beautiful Felicia Hagens from Barbados. The book found an audience and won awards, along with great reviews, and became the first installment in a series that’s still going. Surprisingly, Smith wasn’t initially interested in pursuing publication.

“I wrote the first one as a lark, sort of a been-there-done-that thing, to get it out of my system. I didn’t plan on doing anything with it, but a couple of friends read it and convinced me to consider publishing,” he said. “I began the submission process and eventually found a publisher that liked it. Memories Die Last was released in the spring of 2002, and I haven’t stopped.”

After following the success of the first book with two well-received sequels, Smith decided to branch out and try something different—writing a contemporary romantic comedy told from the man’s point of view.

“I was appearing at a large book festival and noticed other authors attracting more customers,” he said. “I approached a couple of them and found out they were selling romance novels. My stories contained a fair amount of affection between the two lead characters, but not enough to fit into that category. After reading their books, I decided to try writing one, but told from the man’s side of the bed, and with a lot more humor.”

Finding a publisher for this unique-concept novel (which he titled “Anywhere the Heart Goes”) would be a challenge, but it actually came at the right time.   

“The truth is, I’d had a disastrous experience with my publisher on my most recent book, and I was looking for a better neighborhood to call home. I researched publishers and identified some that offered the services and supports I wanted. Thanks to a friend’s referral, I landed with my current publisher in 2009, and I’ve been with them ever since.”

After a few rom-coms and a reboot of the Nick Seven series for a new audience, Smith decided to tackle his dream project—updating the hard-boiled private eye of the 1940s to a contemporary setting.

“I grew up watching film noir crime dramas with Bogart and other tough guy actors, and I read everything by Raymond Chandler, Mickey Spillane, and Dashiell Hammett. I had always wanted to write those kinds of stories. My hero is a former cop turned private eye named Vic Fallon, who operates in Sandusky, Ohio, on the Lake Erie shore. It’s about as far away from The Keys as you can get, and that’s what I wanted.”

Along with the mystery/thrillers, he’s written a number of short romantic comedies in two different series—Key West Heat and Holiday Stocking Stuffers.

“Those were seasonal offerings by my publisher, Extasy Books,” he said. “The Key West Heat stories are summertime vacation romances, and the Holiday Stocking Stuffers have a yuletide theme. I like to write those as a break from the intense action-adventures with my tough guy heroes, because they’re light romantic comedies. Think about episodes of Love Boat or Love, American Style and you’ll get the idea.”

Smith usually manages to include some personal experiences or subtle topical references in his stories. Although he relies on current events and headlines for inspiration, an engrossing story is the thing.

 “I’m not big on messages, but the theme is always the good guys beat the bad guys, then the hero and heroine sail off together into the sunset. I try to write entertaining stories with humor, realistic atmosphere, and a playful romance between the main characters. People read to be entertained, and like I tell aspiring writers, ‘If you want to send a message, use e-mail.’ When you read one of my books, hopefully you’ll come away feeling as though you just watched a good movie.”

You can find the complete profile spread with photos here: Pie, Pages & Porch Talk. My author page is AllAuthor/Tim Smith. 

 

Toxic Fandoms Ruining Good Things

 

 

Image by Светлана Бердник from Pixabay

"Who are you calling a chicken? 

Long and Short Reviews Wednesday Weekly Blogging Challenge August 5 prompt

https://www.longandshortreviews.com/wednesday-weekly-blogging-challenge/ 

Reasons I stopped reading or watching a series

In short, the reason I stop watching a series is usually due to the wrong kind of drama. Sometimes in the series itself, and other times in the fandom.

 

Image by Betidraws from Pixabay

"So did ya see what happened when Damon and Stefan fought over Elena last night? Did ya, huh? Did ya?

"I cannot even begin to tell you how much I don't care." 

With The Vampire Diaries, I got tired of the Elena-Damon-Stefan triangle. 

I also got tired of the drama surrounding Nina Dobrev and Ian Somerhalder during the time that they were together in real life.

 

Image by Saarvendra from Pixabay

"This post-apocalyptic hellscape is way more relaxing and way less toxic than the Supernatural fandom." 

With Supernatural, I got tired of the toxic fandom drama. 

Ship what you like. I really don't care.

The fact that some people vehemently accused those who liked the Sam and Dean ship of supporting real-life incest and, in particular, child molestation, was repugnant to me. 

The Sam and Dean ship had nothing to do with either of these things. It stemmed from the somewhat flirty dynamic between the actors who played Sam and Dean. These men are friends in real life, and the warmth and innuendo between them came through in their characters. It was never anything more than that.

Fandom in theory should create supportive communities bonding over a common interest. 

All too often, the reality is otherwise.

It's sad when toxic devotees destroy the fandoms they claim to support.

 

Image by Stefan Keller from Pixabay

Can't we all just enjoy creating weird things and shipping in peace?

Life's too short to get caught up in foolish drama. 

 

 Visit me at naughtynetherworldpress.start.page

 

Want to get in on a brand new Post-Apocalyptic Family Survival Saga by January Bain?

 

Happy Day to you!

I trust you are having a good summer and enjoying the warm weather and time with family. I know I am, appreciating not wearing a heavy winter coat and frost biting at my nose! 

This year has been quite the milestone for this author. My first long running series is being released. A NINE Book series I wasn't totally certain I could pull off at first. Scary or what, eh? But, I sucked it up and gave it my best shot and now that the reviews are starting, and readers are telling me they are loving it, I can breathe a sigh of relief. I'm currently writing book eight with only one book to go. 

Then, it's on to finish my Western series before I get to my newest contracted series in 2027: An even bigger surprise: A Romantasy!

But, today, I want to talk about the Mackenzie Clan, the family struggling to survive in my post-apocalyptic survival thriller series. Three of the book are now available on Amazon:

This is a video I think you might enjoy about the series:

A couple of reviews you might enjoy reading:

"You’ll be eager to vicariously experience the trials and tribulations of the Mackenzie twins, their family, and their friends as they struggle to survive and cope with the modern world gone haywire. This novel is bound to become a classic in years to come. I highly recommend this book." ~John Bluck.

"You won't go wrong if you decide to read this post-apocalyptic series. I can't wait to get my hands on the next series volume, Book 3, "Race to Chaos," slated for publication in late August 2026." ~Nancy Allen

Well, time to sign off. I hope you have a nice rest of the summer and see you in September!

Hugs, January

Storyteller

 

The Magic of Place - #99Cents #PNR #NewEngland

By Lisabet Sarai

I seem to have a special connection to places. Anyone who has read any of my books will immediately notice that the settings are described in loving detail, almost as if the locale was another character. Indeed, I believe that the unique combination of place and time strongly determines an individual’s nature. I can’t imagine writing a character without knowing where he or she comes from.

Given that I’ve lived in a variety of locations as well as done a fair bit of traveling, my stories are set around the globe, from Guatemala to Cambodia. One of my favorite tales, though, unfolds in my native Massachusetts, where I lived for many decades before moving to Asia. The Witches of Gloucester is a paranormal lesbian erotic romance set in a historic seaport north of Boston, which I’ve visited many times.

From my first encounter with the town, in my teens, I always felt there was magic in Gloucester. Part of the enchantment was the fact that my husband and I often spent our mid-June anniversary there. We had a favorite hotel directly across the street from Bass Rocks, one of the few coastal areas on Cape Ann that faces the open ocean. The rooms all had glass-doored balconies that offered views of the surf and the lighthouse. I recall making love in that hotel, while the waves pounded the shore and the moonlight poured in. Talk about Romance with a capital R!

The Witches of Gloucester is a fanciful tale that attributes Gloucester’s special beauty and charm to its resident witches. For decades, raven-maned Marguerite and red-headed Beryl have lived among its hard-working inhabitants, making magic and mischief. Love and sex fuel their supernatural abilities, but duality limits their power. To reach their full potential, they need a third witch to complete their circle.

Rejected as a nymphomaniac by her puritanical boyfriend, Emmeline escapes to Gloucester to work on her PhD thesis. From the moment she arrives, Marguerite and Beryl sense her erotic vitality and unrecognized paranormal talent. The platinum-haired beauty may well be the enchantress they have been awaiting for so long. Now they need to show Em that her prodigious libido is a gift, not a liability, and to persuade her that her destiny lies in the sea-girt town they guard, and in their arms.

I have to admit, I love this book... And it’s on sale this week for only 99 cents! Go to https://www.lisabetsarai.com/witchesofgloucesterbook.html and click the link to your favorite bookseller.

Excerpt

“Let’s try something new, Emmy. I’d like to test your scrying ability, if you’re willing.” Beryl rose and turned off the lamp on the bedside table. The waxing crescent moon peeked through the window but scarcely dispelled the shadows. She moved the baked clay vessel closer to Emmeline, careful not to slosh its contents onto the rug. “Look into the bowl now. Tell me what you see.”

Em obeyed. “Not a damn thing,” she said after a few moments. “It’s black as pitch.”

“Be patient,” Beryl replied. “Concentrate. Remember the cards.” She caught Em’s hand in her own. The willowy blond jumped at the touch. Marguerite could almost see the electric arousal sparking through her body.

Beryl broke the carnal connection, not wanting to distract the younger witch. They waited. The wind had died. The music had stopped. Only their breathing broke the silence.

“Oh...” Emmeline gasped. A faint greenish glow illumined her face as she bent over the bowl. “Oh my...”

“What do you see, Em?” Marguerite whispered, trying not to break the spell.

“You – you, wearing a lovely violet gown, with ribbons and lace and a bustle... Oh my! And there’s Beryl, just a girl, in a white cap and apron... It’s true, everything you said, it’s true...”

She can read the past, Marguerite thought. As well as dream the future.

“What else?” Beryl urged quietly. “Look deeper. Tell us what you see.”

Em’s brows knotted as she focused on the bowl of water. “I see... fire. It’s a bonfire I think, crackling against a night sky. I can almost smell the wood smoke... And shapes – bodies – no, dancers, circling the fire, three of them, three women dancing. It’s getting clearer – they’re nude, dancing – oh!”

“What? What is it?” In her eagerness, Beryl forgot to keep her voice low. Emmeline raised her eyes from the scrying bowl. The luminescence disappeared.

“The three women – it’s us, the three of us. It’s the ritual you talked about, isn’t it?” Em’s lovely face showed nothing but wonder. “How could I do that? How did I know?”

Marguerite exchanged a glance with her red-haired partner before answering. “You have the gift of seeing outside of time, Emmeline. Both things that have been and things to come. A rare talent, something neither of us can do.”

“You have great power,” Beryl continued. “We both feel it, in our bones, in our bellies – in our cunts and our hearts. Join forces with us and we will truly accomplish miracles.”

Em rose to her feet, so slowly she seemed to be levitating. “I saw us, around the fire. Does that mean I’ll decide to join you? That I have no choice after all?”

Beryl gathered the girl into her arms. Marguerite circled behind Em, pulled the gleaming cascade of hair aside and pressed her lips to Em’s nape. “The future is malleable,” she murmured in Em’s ear. “It’s your decision. But oh, by the gods, we hope you will choose us.”