I'm also very nervous. This is the first time I went out on a limb and wrote this kind of book. Thanks to my niece, Dusti Miller, she helped me turn this story into one that readers of all ages will love. (grins)
I thought I'd tease you with the prologue. ENJOY!
PROLOGUE
Salem, Massachusetts 1720
Jasper King dashed
across the field, ducked under the wooden gate, and ran as fast as his
fourteen-year-old legs would carry him. Fear of the unknown spread through him
like wildfire. With each step, his buckled shoes slipped on the damp grass and
he struggled to stay upright. Afraid he might drop the black, leather-bound
book, he clutched it tighter and hurried toward the house as though the devil
himself was on his heels.
As he came closer
to the two-story A-framed house, tears stung his eyes. Ma’s laundry hung on the
clothesline, and the aroma of baked bread and freshly churned butter filled the
air. When he reached home, he would feel safe and secure. He hoped. But then he
must find a way to get his brother back and destroy the book—Satan’s own
tool—once and for all.
Jasper’s mind
reeled with fear. How had he allowed this to happen? As he sped past the well,
his toe caught a stone. He stumbled and flailed to the ground. The book flew
from his hands and bounced open in front of him. Sharp rocks bit into his knees
and palms and he cried out. The pages, like wicked eyes, pierced his soul. Panic
grew inside him, overshadowing the pain of his wounds.
Jasper scooted
away from the book. He dared not touch it for fear its vileness would sink into
his skin like venom from a snakebite.
“Let me be,” he
shouted at the book. “You will not take me!”
Above him, thick,
dark clouds gathered in the sky, and the air turned chilly. The wind whipped violently
around him, tearing at his clothes and hair. Jasper’s heart sank in despair. He
knew what was coming. He swallowed hard and clenched his fists. Not matter
what, he couldn’t allow the book to weave its magic spell around him as it had
David.
Only a short time
ago, he’d watched helplessly as the book had taken his brother. Taken him! David’s screams still echoed
in Jasper’s head. He covered his ears, closed his eyes, and prayed the memory
would quickly disappear.
There was only one
logical explanation. Jasper’s grandmother had been hung for witchcraft, and
although the family believed she’d been judged wrongly, Jasper now had a
different opinion. Obviously, the book held some kind of power. Had his
grandmother truly practiced witchcraft and cast a spell on its pages?
A high pitched
whistle emanated from the book. In the distance David’s voice called out to
him.
“David? Where are
you?” Jasper cried.
“Please…help…me…”
Each word of David’s plea grew softer until it silenced completely.
Tears spilled down
Jasper’s face. He wiped the back of his cuffed sleeve across his cheeks as
helplessness expanded in his chest. What would he tell his ma and pa? He was
certain they would never believe what happened. Even now, Jasper wondered if he
was dreaming. But he’d watched how the pictures on the pages shifted and grew…
He shivered. Nay,
this was not a dream. Something evil had settled inside the book and was after
him, even after snatching his brother.
A white mist
swirled from the pages, rising up like smoke from a chimney. Within seconds,
the mist had transformed into hands…their beastly claws reaching toward him.
Jasper cried out.
He scrambled to stand, but slipped and slammed to his knees once again. Perhaps
he would meet his brother’s fate after all. Who would tell his family what
happened to them? Who would destroy the vile book so it never devoured another
soul?
Warm tears slid
down his cheeks. He blinked them back and looked toward the house. He saw his
ma running through the tall grass toward him. She called out, but the bitter
wind kept her words from reaching his ears.
The white mist
thickened around him. Jasper’s body froze, as did his mind.
Perhaps this was a
dream after all…
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