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Some secrets are darker than witchcraft.
The Witches of Dark Root. Just 99 cents today.
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Excerpt: The Witches of Dark Root

Excerpt from The Witches of Dark Root.

Sister House, Dark Root, Oregon

December, 1995

Maggie stood before her mother, knees shaking.

Miss Sasha had her firm face on, the expression she wore when there was no debating the matter. Maggie looked to her sisters for help. Ruth Anne and Merry were already pleading her case, while Eve twirled the ends of her hair nervously. Maggie glowered at Eve. It was her fault she was in this mess in the first place.

“Now, don’t you think I’d know if there was something haunting my own house?” Miss Sasha put her hands on her ample hips and the layers of excess flesh caused a mild wave that rippled from buttocks to breasts. “Are you saying I’m not that talented? Is that what you are saying?”

“Leave da girl alone, Sasha,” Aunt Dora chimed in. “She’s jus’ a kid wit an active imagination. As I recall ya had an imagination like dat when ya was little.”

Miss Sasha turned towards her younger sister and narrowed her eyes. “Now, now, Dora. I’m not in the mood.”

“But there is something in there,” Maggie insisted, pointing to the nursery door. “Ask Eve.” Maggie nudged her younger sister but Eve just lowered her eyes and said nothing. She was probably more frightened of their mother than of anything that might live in her bedroom.

“I'm getting this out of you once and for all,” Miss Sasha said, grabbing Maggie by the elbow. Maggie planted her heels into the carpet, trying to make herself immovable, but her mother outweighed her twice over. “You will stay in there until you’re not afraid anymore. When you can tell me, honestly, that there is nothing inside the room I will let you out.”

“No, Mother!” Maggie’s eyes grew wide as Miss Sasha threw open the door.

Ruth Anne and Merry begged their mother to stop while Eve cowered behind Aunt Dora.

“It’s just a room...you’ll see. And you’ll thank me for it later.” Miss Sasha continued to drag Maggie into the nursery, past the crib, the toddler bed, and the old rocking chair. With one hand still on Maggie’s arm, she partially unscrewed the light bulb overhead, so that, except for the light coming in from the hall, the room was dark.

Maggie could make out the shapes of the toys around her––dolls, teddy bears, and blocks. A clown doll on the top shelf seemed to smile at her, causing goose bumps to rise on her legs. Maggie dug her nails into her mother’s arm and begged her to reconsider.

Miss Sasha shook her head. “It’s for your own good.”

With that, she marched out of the room and locked the door from the outside.

“What are you doing?” Maggie could hear Ruth Anne in the hall. “You’re crazy.”

“Please, Mama, let her out,” Merry pleaded. “I’ll talk to Maggie. She won’t make up any more stories.”

“I’m done discussing this. That child’s imagination needs to be reigned in.”

Maggie stood in the dark room, listening as her family’s footsteps disappeared down the hall. She gasped as the temperature dropped, the cold air closing in around her.

“Maggie,” Eve’s voice said from the other side of the door.

Maggie rushed towards the door and lay down, peeking under the large gap. She was nose to nose with her sister. “Evie...please tell Mother I’m not lying. Please tell her about the voices you hear in the nursery. Or about how you wake up bruised sometimes.”

“Mom says they are just nightmares,” Eve said. “If I tell her again, I will get in trouble.”

Maggie was exasperated.

She was here because she had been trying to convince her mother that Eve needed to be moved into the attic with the rest of them. There was something ‘bad’ in the nursery and it was getting worse since Maggie had moved out of the room. But under their mother’s inquisition, Eve wasn’t brave enough to back her up. And now Eve was free, while she was trapped.

Without warning, the room began to vibrate. Maggie could feel her cheeks rumble against the bedroom floor. She widened her eyes as she pushed her hands down to make it stop. Instead, the trembling increased, sending small waves across the room.

“Do you feel that?” Maggie whispered.

“Uh-huh.”

“Eve, unlock the door. Please. Please.” The entire room was shaking now, knocking toys onto the floor. Maggie could hear the crash of dolls and blocks around her and she covered her head with one hand to protect her face. “Unlock the door!”

Eve stood and Maggie could hear the jiggle of the doorknob. “Hurry, Eve, hurry.”

A book bounced off the wall above her, dropping down just inches from Maggie’s face. The jiggling on the handle continued, then suddenly stopped.

“Did you unlock it?”

Eve began to cry. “I can’t. I’m afraid...”

Maggie’s heart stopped as her sister’s soft footsteps raced through the hallway, and down the staircase. The light in the hall suddenly went out, and except for a dim light coming in from the small, high window, Maggie was in the dark.

Vegas Baby

I just got back from Vegas. It was a five day trip and my husband's idea to go in Mid July. I felt like a toaster strudel all weekend.
We did have fun though. Had an AMAZING time at a Irish Pub in the walkway between the Luxor and Mandalay Bay. We stopped in for a drink and had six. Luckily, the only concerns we had getting home were in trying to master the escalator. We also had fun in The House of Blues in MB. Great 90s band rocked the house all night.

It is with a heavy heart that I announce I lost 167 dollars in ones that I had made during our summer garage sale. It all went bye bye in the slot machines. At one point I was ahead 11 dollars and I felt on top of the world. But Vegas will rip your heart out. It will give you just enough to think about buying that wristband at an all-you-can-eat buffet before sending you back to the 3.5 star hotel room you are staying at with nothing but the cute shoes you are making your husband carry for you in between casinos.
By far the most interesting experience of the trip was ending up in an 'adults only' pool. We paid 50 bucks for my husband to get in and I was free. The pool opened at 11 and by 1 nearly half the women there had their tops off. I havnt seen that many red boobs out in public since the nursing sit-in at Target 5 years ago. Eventually, even my husband got bored and went back to reading his book. I never took my top off. I thought surely there must be equity in being different. Nope. It doesn't appear so. One of the least attractive women I have ever seen poured vodka down the crick of her behind and invited men to suck it out (granted she had a nice butt. There was huge speculation that she might be a man because women just don't have butts like that). There were celebrities in the pool that obliged, celebrities that play wholesome fathers on TV. This was enough to ruin TV for me forever and before I got rid of Comcast entirely I told my husband we had to go.
The best thing about the trip was finally being off my diet. I really don't know why I restricted my calories and did cardio every day for the last six weeks just to have strangers silently gauge my worth. But truth be told I'd do it again.
All things said it was a tame trip, which is a good thing for those I came into contact with.
What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas may be the motto, but that's only if you don't have a camera or run into a writer looking for a good story.

All I Need to Know I Learned from an Online Video Game

Gearing up mentally for EQNext and I realized how much of what I know as a human being is what I've learned from playing MMORPGs. Here are some of my favorite lessons:

1. It doesn't matter what your personality is like so long as you sort of resemble a naked, female elf.
2. Everyone needs to feel special.
3. Even the most exciting adventures can get boring if you do them all the time.
4. Making money creatively is fun!
5. Publically making someone feel like an idiot is the best revenge you can get.
6. Boobs are more powerful than the sword.
7. Everyone can find a way to become a hero.
8. Even if you are scaly and green and have horns sticking out of your head, if you are female someone will give you free stuff.
9. A castle is lonely if you live there alone.
10. If you keep at something, you will eventually accomplish your task.

The 24 Experience

I've been watching a lot of Netflix this summer and I finally went back and watched a few seasons of 24.

Here's a brief synopsis of the first three seasons, as told by Jack Bauer.




Season One: My name is Jack Bauer. I work for the Central Terrorist Unit (or something like that) and there is going to be an assassination attempt on one of the dudes running for Presidency. Some of the people at my job are kinda skeevy and may be in on it. I'm not sure who to trust. Oh, yeah, my wife and daughter have been targeted too for some reason too and have been kidnapped. I keep rescuing them like every hour and they keep getting back into trouble. Women. Go figure. Anyway, to make a long story short, this is the longest f'ing day of my life.




Season Two: Hey guys, its me again. Jack. Jack Bauer. It's been a while but I've been pretty bummed about my wife and stuff, so I left the CTU. She wasn't terribly bright but I still kinda miss her. Anyways, trouble seems to follow me and now, Ive got a nuclear bomb to deal with and some father- daughter issues to resolve. When I said that last day was the longest day of my life I misspoke. This is REALLY the longest day of my life. Its like 32 hours packed into one day. Seriously. A long day. Jack, signing off.




Season Three: Sooo...Jack here. And yeah, talk about your longest days. Those other two days I told you about was long, but when you are really talking about long days nothing tops a day filled with biological terrorism, heroine addiction, and more daddy-daughter issues. To top it off, I had to kill my ex-lover. She was kind of a bitch, you know? So really, when you are talking about long days, I think today was the absolute longest. It was like a long weekend rolled into one day. Never again!




Season Four +: More very long days

Give Me Fancy Feast or Give Me Back to the Shelter

As we speak my cat is lying atop his empty bowl, glaring at me from the other side of the room.

I know that he is glaring because his normal 'saucer eyes' have turned to slits.

Someone, *cough* has forgotten to refill his Fancy Feast container, and he is NOT happy.

I've always been a dog person, until last year when I got Boots. He was just a kitten then and so cute that when the neighbor girl came to my house and told me the story about how he had been abandoned in a closet of an apartment building and needed a home, I couldn't resist.

Cats were easy, I convinced my husband. And he went along with it until the night Boots slept in our room and mistook his toe for a shiny mouse. There were a flurry of curse words spouted off in the middle of the night and Boots was never allowed in our room after 11 PM again.

Aside from that and the scratching (oh, does the scratching ever end?) Boots has been a pretty chill addition to the family. He follows me around and watches what I'm doing, he steals my make up brushes, and he cuddles up to Shawn during Mad Men (On more than one occasion I've got my husband giving the cat kitty kisses when he didn't think I was looking). He's been a part of my family for a year now.

So why do I go to so much trouble to accommodate him?

It turns out Boots, the feline that was abandoned in the closet just one short year ago, is a snob.

I've gone through every type of cat food there is, and when he finds one he likes, that's the ONLY kind he will eat. If that type of food is not served at the same time, in the same way, I get a well-timed meow and a look that would melt metal.

All fine and good except SOMEONE, I think my mother, gave the cat Fancy Feast a few months ago. Now he's too good for Sheba and don't get me started on Whiskers. And Gravy Sensations? Not so sensational.

What's worse is that he seems to have a preference every day about which type of Fancy Feast he desires. Somedays its tuna, others its chicken, but it's always with the label Primavera or Faire.

"The cat eats better than I do," my husband complains as I toss him a plate of half-frozen tator tots. I inform my husband that he's welcome to join Boots in his cuisine. It would make it easier on cooking and shopping.

Anyways, so yesterday I find myself LITERALLY reading off the labels of cat food to the f'ing cat, waiting for a responsive meow.

"Grilled Chicken with Delectable Vegetables?"

No response.

"Choice Cut Salmon with Garden Greens?"

Still no response.

When I pull out the can marked Tuna Florentine he begins purring so loudly I think he's having a seizure.

I'm not sure if he understands, but I can't risk it. I open it and pour it into his bowl, hoping for that this day at least, I've made the right choice.

He weighs 14 pounds. I really shouldn't worry.

But it's the guilt. That F'ing guilt of those cat eyes across the room, reminding me that he was a closet kitty a year ago.

And now he's a foody.

"Don't judge me," I say, as he seems to sneer at the Big Mac I'm having for dinner. "If you had simpler tastes I could afford better food myself."

He blinks at me and sits beside his bowl, waiting for his next meal.

The Sleep Number Experience

My husband and I used our vacation money this year to buy a sleep number bed. Dual chamber. It's pretty great, actually, and a king size. We'd been huddled up in a queen-sized torture chamber for nearly five years now and it was time to make a change.

If you've never been inside a sleep number store its pretty fun. They put you on one of their beds and you play with the buttons, making yourself go up and down, kinda like a hospital bed but its more internal. You can actually feel your organs being sucked in. I'm thinking it might be a good way to lose some weight.

Anyway, the sleep number dude showed us a visual presentation on how out of whack our backs were! He even had green, yellow, and red energy circles to demonstrate (there's
a little theatre over your head as you are testing it out). Once you hit 'your ideal sleep number' all the red lines go away and its green sailing from there on out.

So we got it and I have to say I love it. We each have our own sleep number side. The middle area is a battle ground.

I'm not sure why but my body has recently rebelled against sleep. At least lying down. I wake up in more pain and more tired than when I went to sleep. Now with my handy dandy vacation-costy bed, the pain is at a minimum. So worth it!

There's a remote that controls your number. 100 is as firm as it gets. Then you can soften it all the way down to zero.

Made me wonder. Wouldn't it be awesome if they had a similar invention for wives to use on their husbands? On some nights, we'd crank him up to 100. On the nights we just want to watch Heart of Dixie and eat ice cream, deflate that sucker till he's an innie.

Oh, well, I can dream. For now I can at least operate my bed.

Launch Party Fun!

Come to my launch party tonight! 20 FREE books given away, including my new release The Magick of Dark Root.

https://www.facebook.com/events/784660798233297/?ref_dashboard_filter=upcoming

Goodreads Giveaway

If you're on Goodreads enter to win my second book in The Daughters of Dark Root series. In paperback! Its about four witchy sisters who have returned to their magical hometown of Dark Root, Oregon, only to find life isn't as easy as they expected.
When they attempt to make things easier through witchcraft, things go a bit, um, wrong.
Can be read as a stand alone book.
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22445939-the-magick-of-dark-root

Meandering Monday

A marvelous Monday, yet I feel lost.
So much to do this week and I'm not sure where to get started.
I have a book launch party on Wednesday, a book blog tour I'm getting ready for, a book Im currently writing (you'd think writers would have an easier life right? sitting around eating bon bons in between commercials) and a yard sale on Saturday.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining. Life is good.
There was a time in my life when I was going to school AND being a parent. There were even times in my life where I was homeless and not sure where my next meal would come from. I'm not sure how I got through that. But I did.
Now I fret over which incredibly
amazing task I have to conquer each day.
For now, I will stare at my cat as he's staring out the window.
He's longing to be outside, and I'm just cozy and happy, glad to be inside.

Trust the Process

Well, I'm done writing the last book and I've officially begun the next book. The only thing is, it's really hard to find my voice this time. Jumping from a suspense book to a comedy can be daunting. I'm hoping as time goes on I will relax into it.

I have to have faith though. They've all worked out so far. I'm not a huge plotter. I have an idea of what the book should be about and some major plot points, but I never know what I will actually type. Characters just pop into my head and I'm like, "oh, that's how that happens."

Lesson here: When writing, trust the process. If you plot it out too much it seems to lose its magic. At least for me. Writing should be as much a journey for the author as it is for the reader. Then when something is discovered, you discover it together.

The Magick of Dark Root Release

Book Link
Out today! The Magick of Dark Root.

A magical mystery about magic, sacrifice, family, sisters, and the healing power of love.

Book Two in Daughters of Dark Root
series but can be read as a stand alone.

And The Lie Detector Says...

My husband has recently discovered the 'joys' of daytime TV. He's been sheltered by the likes of Jerry Springer and Steve Wilcos. Now he comes home every day for lunch and immediately flips on whatever lie detecting show might be airing.

This is kinda cute, but its also alarming. The people on those shows scream...a lot. My neighbor took me aside and asked if everything was 'okay at our house because she noticed that when my husband came home during the day there was an awful lot of noise. I guess she thought I was being beaten.

Im actually more embarrassed that the neighbors know we watch the shows now than of them thinking we are a domestic violence home.

I guess that's the price we pay to find out whose the babies daddy.

The Magick of Dark Root Available June 6

The Magick of Dark Root will be out June 6, 2014. This is the second book in The Daughters of Dark Root series.

Preview cover art

Book Giveway

Want to win one of six signed copies of The Witches of Dark Root? Enter the Goodreads Giveaway. Goodreads will conduct the drawing on May 27th.
(Original green cover)

Goodreads Book Giveaway

The Witches of Dark Root

by April Aasheim

Giveaway ends May 27, 2014.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter to win

The Universe is a Very Strange Place

First scene from sequel to The Universe is a Very Big Place.
Still in rough draft format, just wanted people to know I'm working on it :)

     Spring Ryan Smith strolled confidently into the lobby of Parenting Plus, her long blond hair tied back in a sleek pony tail, a brown leather brief case under her arm. Upon entering the building she immediately noticed that something was different about the place she had worked at the last ten years; namely that it was empty.

“Is today a holiday?” she wondered aloud, checking the calendar on her smart phone. When it came up empty she asked her digital, personal assistant. “Miri, is today a holiday?”

“Today is only a holiday if you are a resident of Eastern Yemen,” Miri replied back.

Hmmm.

Spring looked around once more, noting that not only were her co-workers AWOL, some of the office furniture had disappeared as well. Chairs mostly, a few staplers. A computer or two.

Panic spread through her as she considered the possibilities. The first thing that came to mind was that the end times had come, just as her mother Lanie had predicted, and she had been left behind. “I should have paid more attention to those men who came to my door wearing suits,” she said, recalling the incident that had happened just last week. They were trying to tell her about ‘the good news’ but all she could think about was that she were missing a rerun of Lost and she had never figured out what was happening the first time she watched it.

She inhaled and exhaled rapidly, wondering if she were equipped to fight off people looking for food. Then she remembered her empty pantry. She would be one of those people looking for food.

She fanned herself with her free hand, until she was able to think rationally. She had driven through a coffee shop on her way to work and the place was full. If Armageddon had come, it wasn’t the the prideful who had been left behind, it was the coffee drinkers.

“Hello?” she called, checking offices up and down the short corridor. “Anyone here?”

The rooms were empty and there was not a soul in sight.

“Hello?” she called again, wondering if she’d missed an office retreat. Her mind had been scattered lately, with thoughts of her twins returning from Hawaii with their father, and her husband’s addiction to video games. It wasn’t inconceivable that she had forgotten something.

“Spring!”

A woman’s voice at the far end of the hall called to her and Spring strode quickly in that direction. She pushed open a door to see the Vice President of Parenting Plus, a gray haired woman of her mother’s age named Matilda. She stood behind her desk, packing up cardboard boxes. “What are you doing here? Didn’t they call you?”

“Um, maybe.” Spring had spent the weekend trying to entice her husband John away from his game controller. That included a home made dinner, a new nightie, and a phone on silence. The only thing she had gotten from her efforts was a quickie, a kiss on the cheek, and an announcement that the new War Gods of Ashria game would be out Tuesday at midnight and they needed to spend the evening in line to secure a copy.

“We’re jumping ship,” Matilda said, taping up one box and opening another. “We lost our lease.”

“Oh. Where are we moving? I saw a great office space downtown that would work if we haven't picked one out yet.”

    Matilda adjusted her glasses and stared at Spring, expressionless. “We lost funding too. The recession’s hit us all. The good news is that we may be able to draw unemployment for a while."

“What?” Spring plopped down into the last remaining office chair, dropping her briefcase. “I don’t understand.”

“Havnt you been keeping up with anything? At least three other social service agencies have shut their doors in the last six months. Parenting is out. Obesity prevention is in.”

Truth was, Spring had heard the rumors but the likelihood of the place closing down seemed as far fetched as her wearing skinny jeans. “What am I going to do?” she asked, pulling the band out of her hair and chewing on the ends. “Its not like there are loads of jobs for social workers in Sedona.”

“Hell, Spring, I don’t know. That husband of yours does okay for himself, right? Take some time off, get a hobby, volunteer. Find a life.”

“A life?”

“A life. It’s what people do when they aren’t working. I’m sure you’ll come up with something.”

Matilda slammed her last box closed and piled three into her arms. She walked out of the office and down the dark hall, Spring following closely behind.

“What will you do?” Spring asked when they got to the front door. She wanted to hug the woman, her last link to the agency, but she knew from experience Matilda wasn’t the hugging kind.

“I had three years ‘til my pension kicked in.” She shook her head, her gray hair hardly moving. “I hear The Burger Ranch is hiring.” She pursed her lips together an pushed through the door, not bothering to lock it behind her.“You think you have everything figured out and then boom, the rug’s pulled out from under you.”

“The Universe…” Spring said.

“The Universe?”

“Yes. Like my mother says, it's a very strange place.”

The Universe is a Very Big Place - Lanie Moves In

Short excerpt from The Universe is a Very Big Place. 

Lanie wandered around the kitchen, arms raised in homage to some god or another. Her black muumuu with its bright purple flowers and her neon red hair gave her a clown-like appearance.

"How can anyone not notice her?" Sam said, turning to face the woman. By the way Lanie’s fleshy body undulated beneath her dress, Spring could tell that Chloe had been feeding her well....

"Don’t mind me," said Lanie, picking up the serving bowl filled with Sam’s special mousse. She ran her finger along the inside rim and put it to her mouth. "Yuck. Who the hell eats coffee pudding? I’m a coffee drinker and I don’t even eat this shit." Lanie set the bowl down and retreated towards the living room. Six o’clock meant that it was time for her medication and The Wheel of Fortune.

"How long?" Sam asked as Lanie flopped into his recliner.

"Not that long. Just until she’s done with menopause."

"Menopause?" Sam’s voice trembled. "Doesn’t that take years? Why can’t she get her own place?"

"Apparently the carnival didn’t provide a very good retirement package. But she did offer to give you free Tarot Card readings for life."

Sam’s eyes narrowed as Lanie flipped through the channels. "Can she predict if I will be found guilty in an upcoming murder trial?"
"Sam!"

They watched as Lanie sat in the living room, one hand on the remote control, the other fanning herself. "Oh, Lordy," she grunted. "Why the hell did you pick Arizona to settle in? Arizona is too fuckin’ hot. I’m old. I might die."

"Only if we’re lucky," Sam said.

FREE Book Giveaway

Chance to win OODLES of books, including The Witches of Dark Root. Like this page and then scroll down the list. You can follow or like other authors on twitter and you're automatically entered.
TONS of books and freebies!
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Tips for New Writers

I get asked all the time now what advice I would give to new writers. After some careful consideration I've narrowed it down to four things:

1. Develop a thick skin. Your mom may love your poems. Your spouse may adore your short stories. Your college teacher may tell you that you are the next Hemingway.  But in the real world, outside of our safety bubble, not everyone is going to like everything you write. And that's okay. Its part of the process. From time to time you may experience rejection, criticism, and even downright loathing. You can't let this get to you. There are many great stories that never would have been born if the writer had given up because a few people didn't like it. Stay true to yourself and keep at it.

2. Listen to Criticism. This goes hand in hand with #1. When people are critiquing your work, really listen to what they are saying. They might have insight you just aren't seeing. Use the helpful stuff and throw away the rest. Ultimately it's your work and you need to make it the best you can, but that doesn't mean taking every suggestion someone throws out.

3. Keep a Journal. Keeping a journal and recording my innermost thoughts and feelings helped me develop my voice. It also helped me to write honestly. When I started writing my novels I no longer tried to write like Tolkien or King. I was writing as myself. This was all thanks to the countless hours I spent working on my diary.




4. Read. Most authors I know were inspired to write because of the books they had read. That shouldn't change just because you are now writing and feel strapped for time. In fact, it should be more important. You need to read to see what else is out there, what is relevant, what makes you feel good, what makes you feel nothing. The one thing I caution is to guard against the tendency to write in the style of whoever you are reading. It is okay to be inspired by someones style. It is not okay to copy them.




5. Write Daily. I've heard countless successful authors say that with every writing session their craft improved. I have to agree. At some point things just start to 'click'. I can't say what the trigger is, but there's an aha moment and the words seem to flow out effortlessly. In fact, it almost feels like cheating. To get to that point you need to do three things: Practice. Practice. Practice.


*
April Aasheim is the author of The Witches of Dark Root http://amzn.com/B00D6OUDDG
and The Universe is a Very Big Place http://amzn.com/B008QSTLQ2

The Magick of Dark Root (Prologue Sneak Peek)

    Prologue

Dark Root, Oregon

Winter Solstice

The Distant Past

Sasha Benbridge ran through the forest, her brown hair tumbling from its pin curls and unfurling down her slender back. Light on her toes and nimble with youth, she rushed towards the spot where she had seen the silver cord of lightning strike the earth just minutes before. Excitement threatened to swallow her up as she raced towards her destination. Her mother had prophesied that she would find her tree today, and Sasha had never known her mother to be wrong, at least in matters of witchcraft.

“Hurry,” she whispered aloud, though her voice was lost to the wind that whipped through the endless forest around her. She quickened her pace, leaping over the debris that shrouded her path. She couldn’t risk losing her tree. At twenty years old she had waited too long already. But today was the day she would take her wand and come into her full power as a witch. She just knew it.

She heard the rush of water and could make out snatches of sunlight ahead of her. She must be near a meadow. Good. Though she was a daughter of the woods she wanted a clear view of her surroundings before she performed the ritual.

To Sasha’s right she glimpsed a large, dark shape crouching among the trees. She could only hope it was a bear. There were more frightening things in this forest than wild animals, and until she had the wand in her hands, she wasn't sure if she could match the worst of them. She touched the amulet that hung around her neck and said a brief spell of protection. The shape slunk backwards and disappeared.

At last the forest opened up into a wide clearing, cut through the middle by a swift-moving river that disappeared into the woods on either end. There were many rivers in and around Dark Root, but the waters here looked deeper and more treacherous than any Sasha had seen before. This one fed on the lesser tributaries of the region, she thought, devouring them whole on its journey towards the ocean.

In the center of the meadow, on the top of a slope just feet from the river, stood a solitary tree: a thirty-foot-tall willow with moonbeam-colored boughs that fell to the earth in smooth, clean arcs like half-formed rainbows. The earth around the tree was wet, and Sasha approached it carefully. One misplaced step and she could slide into the river.

The branches wafted in the wind like long, sinuous fingers beckoning her forward. Sasha lifted several of the lower boughs and ducked into the tree’s canopy. It was darker in this secret chamber but she could still discern the smooth trunk from which the boughs sprang. Sasha crept towards it, one hand gripping her amulet as she reached forward with the other. A witch only gets one wand and she had to be certain. When her hands found the trunk she felt a jolt of electricity, a small jolt that nearly stopped her heart. A wide smile crossed Sasha’s face. Her mother’s prophesy had been correct. This was her tree.

Satisfied, she left the tree’s cover and stood before the willow. The sun had settled behind the mountains to the East but the tree was still aglow, lit up by the soil from which it grew. Being the only willow in the region, Sasha knew it had absorbed all the magic rich nutrients reserved for trees of its kind. Her fingers tingled as she pondered the possibilities.

“Blessed tree,” she began, kneeling before the willow, her arms outstretched. “My name is Sasha Benbridge and I have come to ask your permission to take a bough in order to create my wand. I am pure of heart and will not use its magick to inflict harm to others.”

Sasha waited, watching for a response from the tree. At last the boughs began to bob, as if to say yes. Sasha stood, retrieving the small knife from her garter, concealed beneath her white cotton dress. She displayed the knife to the tree, giving the willow a moment to reconsider. When it did not move, she stepped forward.  

“I'm sorry if this hurts,” she whispered as she carefully sawed off branch the length of her forearm. The tree flinched and she stroked it until it calmed. Finally, the branch fell from the tree. “Thank you,” she said, encircling her palm around its severed limb. Within seconds the warmth of her touch healed the tree.

In her peripheral Sasha noticed a shape emerge from the woods: a tall, lank figure in a scarlet cloak. Sasha turned her head to the figure. “Larinda, were you following me? I suppose you will run to mother and tell on me? Well, she knows I’m here and…”

“Dear cousin,” Larinda interrupted. “You misjudge my intentions. I’m only here because I was worried about you. It is getting dark and I saw you run off into the forest. What possessed you to run off so far into the woods on the night of the Solstice?”

 

Sasha held out the branch. “At last, I have found my wand.”

Larinda threw back the hood of her cloak, revealing hair as black as the night and skin as pale as the moon. Her thin red lips curled up, somewhere between a snarl and a smile. “You have waited so long, already, dear cousin. What makes this branch so special?”

“It is from a willow. The only of its kind in Dark Root. And,” she said, her eyes sparkling, “it was kissed by lightning. Doubly blessed!”

“A willow? Will you devote your life to the healing arts then?” Larinda’s face could no longer contain her contempt. “Perhaps you will become a nurse, walking the battlefields like Clara Barton.”

“Perhaps,” Sasha answered, her eyes fixing on her wand. “But theres so much more. Don’t you see Larinda, with this wood, and the magic that runs through our blood, I can live forever if I choose!” She raised her face to her cousins, waiting for Larinda to grasp the implications.

“You mean…” Larinda turned her attention on the willow tree.

“Yes. As long as the tree remains alive, so will I.”

“But willows don’t live that long.”

“In Dark Root they do.” Sasha ran her fingers over the sleek wood in her hands. “And I can give it a little help.”

Larinda charged at the tree, yanking at one of it’s limbs. “I want that power. I didn’t know about it. It isn't fair.” But the branches pulled back and Larinda could not touch a one.

“You have your wand,” Sasha said. “And it is a good wand. Illusion is a powerful magic.”

“Nothing is as powerful as the gift of eternal life,” Larinda said. “You get everything and I get nothing.”

 

Sasha placed her hand on her cousin’s shoulder to comfort her. “You are my blood. I will use the wand on you as well. All of our family. We will be young forever, together. Now, help me protect the tree. We must keep this to ourselves. Promise?”

“If you promise to always take care of me.”

 

“Yes, my darling. Now we must hurry back. Tonight is the solstice and mother says we need to perform a ceremony to keep out those who wish to use the magic of Dark Root against us. And then, she will pass the circle onto me.”

The two women turned back towards the forest. Larinda gave the tree a final glance. “Sasha. What will we do with eternal youth?”

Sasha smiled, lifting her chin towards the waning sun before entering the darkness of the woods. “I’m going to travel. Become an actress. Have a million lovers. And be famous. Maybe change my name to something more theatrical. After all, what good is magic if you don’t use it?”