Hidden Gypsy Magic - Sunday Snippet

Oct 22nd Hidden Gypsy Magic – Sunday Snippet

Welcome to Sunday Snippets – Hidden Gypsy Magic. Each week I spotlight one of my books, tell you what’s special about it, and highlight an excerpt. Join me each week for this fun adventure.

This week is the award-winning Hidden Gypsy Magic part of A Witch’s Journey Series revolving around animal rescue, magic, second chances, and paying it forward. I’m sure you’ll love this feel good series! Let me tell you a little secret. I’ve always wanted to visit Salem, Massachusetts, own a cabin in Maine, and live in a lighthouse. Sure enough I live out my fantasies in my books.

I love all my books, but Hidden Gypsy Magic is one of my favorites. A house and cabin that clean and fix dinner. What more could you want? Maybe wildlife rescue? Magic? A handsome veterinarian? AND it available in audiobook! Yep this book as it all.

So lets take a peek into Hidden Gypsy Magic!

Gwen a wildlife rehabilitor, and Brock a veterinarian, 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 peek between the pages of Hidden Gypsy Magic:

Seven minutes until midnight. Brock opened his mouth to speak, but Pepper beat him to it.

“Isn’t there some way to banish him forever while he walks among the mortals? I don’t have my spell book with me. Guess I should travel with it after all the recent experiences with you gypsies.” A slight giggle slipped out between her lips.

The somber tone in the room eased for a minute. “I mean, in your painting don’t you…”

“You’re on the right path. That’s why I’m here.” Beth smiled wide. “You can’t battle him outside this house. But with the protections afforded us inside the abode, with our combined magic and grandmother’s grimoire we would be able to do exactly as you suggest. Do we have your full support?”

“Of course.” The group chorused with the exception of Jeremiah, still shell shocked leaning against the wall. But Morgan was all in pumping her fist in the air.

Lance stuck his head out of the upstairs room. “Need us to help?”

“No,” Dylan called up to him. “Protect the children. We got this.”

“Good enough.” Lance slammed the door shut.

A trail of mist floated out of the picture, around the room, and settled beside 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.

Beth’s ghostly hand rested on his. “Give it a minute.” She bent over and picked up a poppet that lay singed on the floor. It crumpled in her hand and turned to ash. She gently blew the ashes into the fireplace. “It is done. We will take our leave but our gratitude will be forever yours.” The ghost faded away.

Next week, a new snippet! I look forward to our next visit!