**Roane Publishing has closed its doors.** I'll release Amy's new story soon.

All For Nothing

A Roane Publishing FREE Read

Urban fantasy short story

ebook, 23 pages

Published September 28th 2014 by Roane Publishing

 

A Meadowbrook Coven short story

Her life has been a lie. 

After the events in “Ordinary World,” Amy Corbett wants answers. About her past and why her mother didn’t clue her into the truth. Reluctantly accepting the changes forced upon her, Amy’s trying to embrace her new self, but being a witch is hard work. Not able to grasp a simple spell, she learns about a secret society of magic users, shunned for not being able to ‘fit in.’ Maybe she’ll find a place where she truly belongs. 

There’s no place like home? Sometimes there are alternatives.

 

Excerpt

 

Chapter One

“Concentrate, honey,” Dad murmurs for the fiftieth time today, his eyes super glued on my every move.

 “I’m trying,” I say through gritted teeth, staring down at the long-stemmed white carnation. Sweat drops cling to my forehead. Every time some slip down the sides of my face, new ones take their place. My index fingers have turned into window wipers keeping the droplets out of my eyes.

“Imagine it different.” Dad stands in front of me, dressed in a royal blue tunic—the color of a grand wizard in training—his hands poised beside his family’s grimoire on top of the gray counter.  

The variance spell is a beginner’s spell. Stare at something and want it changed. Turn the brown book cover into a pink one. It’s simple. Pour your intent into making something happen. Easy. So they say.

But that’s the problem. I’m not making anything happen. Ten seconds fixated on the flower. I picture the petals as red as Mom’s new lipstick, Death’s Kiss. And then what?

Nothing happens, besides eye strain and the slight tinkling of another headache.

I exhale loudly. Frustration fills an invisible backpack hanging off my shoulder blades. Its weight causes me to stoop over like the ancient hags I learned about yesterday. “Face it, Dad. Hashtag I suck. I’ve been trying to accomplish one simple skill and haven’t been able to for the past week.”

“You don’t suck, Ames. You’re just starting out.” Remy rubs the back of my yellow tunic (color translation: newbie) until my father throws him a look. He sits back down on the stool beside me, busy straightening the belt of his maroon tunic. Part of me is envious. Remy is a fifth year student warlock indicated by the five black strips running across his right sleeve and I’m…nothing.

I sandwich my hands on either side of my head, rocking on the heels of my Doc Martens.            

Dad shifts in place, the familiar scowl taking up residence above his eyebrows.

I wonder what Dorothy’s up to. Any tornadoes sighted in her section in Kansas?

Inhaling then exhaling, I release my own storm. “Dad, I appreciate everything you’ve done,” I say, pointing at the things covering the three long counters surrounding us. “All the books and the crystal balls. Scrying tools. Cauldrons and parchment paper. Herbs. Everything a beginning witch needs is here. It’s like my very own Hogwarts, and you set it up.”

There’s complete silence.

I stop moving. “But none of these things are helping. I’m hopeless.”