EXCERPT

Spells of Seduction
By
Sapphire Blue  

Prologue

Salem, Massachusetts 1692 

On the stretch of land known as Salem Neck, a small crowd gathered, watching in eerie anticipation as their town was rid of the demon spirit.

She walked across the wooded planks, her feet bare and scarred from days in the dingy cell behind the courthouse. Her hands bound behind her back, her dress dirty and tattered, she stood tall and proud, the wicked eyes of the crowd not privy to her distress or the pain they had inflicted in her life.

Paul was not here.

She would leave this earth without seeing his face one last time. Her heart wept with the sadness that made itself at home when they knocked at her door three weeks ago. The men had come, garbed in black, tossing vicious words in her direction. Raging, they hurled threats and obscenities, stomping over the wooded planks, all the while avoiding her like the plague, as if the mere touch of her would taint their pristine blood. Paul tried to protect her but received the back hand of the smithy named Clark and the stern glare of Reverend Bartholomew Franks.

For three weeks she’d huddled in a corner of the dirty, cold cell, listening as they happily planned her demise.

In that time, she’d neither denied nor admitted their accusations. She knew the truth. And so did Paul. No one else mattered. No one else cared.

The breeze was strong today as it rippled through her long, dark hair and dragged dirty strands across her face. She didn’t spare a glance for the pitiful creatures that called themselves human. Her eyes remained fixed as she thought of the worthless race that refused her the love of her life.

A thought came to her quickly as they stood her on a box and slipped the dingy rope around her neck. Why can’t they see that we can live together in peace and harmony? Only their fear and ignorance cluttered the path. They needed to be shown the way, the truth, the light.

Another part of her believed they should all be denied the love that sustains them. They should feel the pain of being ostracized and set apart from the one they loved. They should all die as lonely and heartbroken as she was about to. Their deeds should return to haunt them threefold.

With those thoughts in mind, she reached deep inside, summoning the elements of the earth. The air stirred. A bolt of lightning flashed through the sky. To the back of her the Atlantic Ocean roared as ten-foot waves rose and crashed against the shore. The ground rumbled and shook beneath them.

“Witch! Witch! Kill the witch!” someone from the crowd began to yell.

Others followed, and the words vibrated through her body, sparking a flame to the hatred that had kindled upon her arrest. She closed her eyes, removing the faces from the bodies that stood awaiting her departure. All that remained were fear and prejudice, uncertainty and disbelief.

Tilting her head back she began to mumble, “On this day I curse them all. Without true love they all shall fall. The Law of Three shall reign supreme. Every three decades three from the Craft shall take three from their kind, joining their hearts, their lives, their minds, creating a circle of one. Creating a bond of eternity. Air, Fire, Water, Earth, elements of astral birth, I call you now, attend to me. This is my will, so mote it be!”

“Kill her!” someone yelled.

The box was kicked from beneath her feet, the rope tightened around her neck. Her feet dangled midair, her long hair hanging down her back, her head tilted, eyes wide open.

The sky went black; ominous clouds rolled back and forth, highlighted by bright streaks of lightening. The sea cried in anguish, the ground moaned in pain.

The cries were silenced. The sky cleared, the waves abated, the ground stilled.

* * * *

Part I
Bewitched 

Chapter One 
Maceo, Massachusetts

Three Hundred Years Later 

She stared out into the murky depths of the Atlantic, wondering what would be their fate. Thirty years culminated in two months. In sixty days life as she knew it would be forever changed. All because they had failed. All because they could not love.

Her great-grandmother said it was their father’s blood brewing deep inside each of them. Willing them not to open up and accept their true destinies. Her mother said they were taking their time, assuring that the perfect one was the only one.

Geneva wasn’t so cynical, nor was she so optimistic.

Hadn’t she tried to find a mate? Hadn’t she tried her hand at relationships? All in search of the one that would aid in ending this foolish curse. There were nights she banished the name Saralene Kane from her memory, hoping that the words spoken while she was at death’s door would disappear with her. Knowing that such was not possible. The spell had been cast, the repercussions alive and breathing. Waiting for the first three to fail.

Geneva sighed. It looked as if she and her siblings would be that three.

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