Tena StetlerAuthor of Paranormal Romance/Suspense & Cozy Mysteries With Magic Spark!

A little about Hidden Gypsy Magic:

Discover the consequences of awakening hidden Gypsy magic!

The Salem Wildlife Sanctuary is Gwen Taylor’s life work.  Her Irish Gypsy heritage provides a hidden talent she uses to help the creatures under her care.  But even her magical skills can’t help new rescues in dire need of veterinary care.

The opportunity of signing on as the vet for Gwen’s sanctuary dropped into Brock Scutter’s lap after he expanded his practice to include wildlife. The personal attraction he and Gwen experience is undeniable the more their professional and personal lives collide.

Touring the only “non-haunted” house in Salem they both feel a spark of magic.  A trip to his family’s cabin uncovers a heritage he didn’t know existed.  If they want a future together, it means facing the consequences of awakening hidden Gypsy magic and a race against the clock to correct past wrongs.

A sneak peek between the pages of Hidden Gypsy Magic: New hook. A bit of a twist on the Salem Witch Trials.

A trail of mist floated out of the picture, around the room, and settled beside ghost Beth taking the shape of an older woman holding a thick book spread open. “Granddaughter. Are we ready then? We’ve located the…um….” The elderly ghost switched her gaze from the pages of the book to outside the window. “…proper page.” Then the ghost jerked her chin toward the painting where previously all the Colson family had been but now they gathered in the center of the room inside the painting.

“Let’s do it.” Gwen shared a glance at the clock with him. “Only—”

Beth again put her finger to her ghostly lips and shook her head.

The elderly ghost began to read from the book.

“We are witches, this is our creed. We will help where there is need. Days of old, wrongs to right. Let the truth be known this night. Forever banish from all realms Judge John Hathorne’s spirit and soul are bound. So mote it be.”

Jeremiah rushed to the window, touching the glass with his fingers. The rest of the group followed in time to see the tendrils expand and circle a ghostly shape in top hat and suit, the ground beneath its feet glowed as if molten lava bubbled up from the earth’s core. With a snap, the tendrils and their prisoner sank into the ground leaving no trace except a stench of sulfur seeping into the old house.

The elderly ghost slumped against the wall that held the picture and turned into a white mist returning to the painting.

The door locks clicked, the shutters banged open and the full moon shone brightly in a cloudless star-strewn sky.

Anyone care to take a peek outside?” Brock asked cautiously reaching for the door handle.

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