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Nana might be a little more colorful than most grandmother's with her broomstick skirts and jangling bracelets. She's the one you don't want to cross. The rest of the family is soft spoken and well mannered.
They do have a tendency to disappear for days, then reappear again with explanation that they were sick. Can't say that one always fly. Now and then, a whole bunch of people visit at once bringing hot dishes. Must have been someone's birthday.
I would love to get into that house and find out what's going on, but I can't. I haven't been invited. You can though with the first book, Initiation, which tells the Leah's, the youngest daughter's story,
The smell struck her first. The acrid, smelly odor reminded her of her fourth-grade field trip to a pioneer village. The candle maker had intrigued her by dipping wicks in what she had assumed was wax until the woman explained it was made of animal fat from butchered animals. That’s what it smelled like, along with the campfire aroma of burning wood.
In the misty night sky, a clouded crescent moon shed meager light on the surroundings. Turning slowly she examined the primitive thatched hut behind her. In the small front garden, a split log supported by two stumps served as a bench. An oaken bucket sat by a door that flew open. An elderly woman hobbled out, dressed in a black cloak. The woman reminded Leah of her grandmother, but instead of a look of fierce determination, terror pulled her face into an anxious mask. Reaching Leah, she tugged on her clothes, pushing her toward the woods. “Flee, flee, they come. Smell the torches.” The woman pointed to a path winding toward the east.
A dim glow was coming from that direction, along with the sounds of voices and snapping branches as dozens of feet marched in their direction. An overwhelming desire to run after the unknown woman came over her. Another part of her wanted to see who was coming down the path. It was only a dream, right?
People couldn’t be hurt in a dream, or could they? She struggled to remember what her psychology teacher, Mr. Schaeffer, had said. He’d said either people couldn’t be hurt by their fears or your fears could kill you by bringing on cardiac arrest.
A few men came into view, burly men garbed in shapeless garments, with wild hair and ragged beards. Held high the flickering torches illuminated a small circle around them. One held a curved knife, reminiscent of the scythe the Grim Reaper carried. It didn’t bode well. One of the men spotted her, yelled, “Witch!” and charged her way. It was a definite bad sign, causing her to sprint toward the woods in the same direction as the old woman. Sticks, rocks, and briars pierced her feet, reminding her of her shoeless state. At home, she excelled in cross-country, but she had shoes, sunlight, and a feel for the course with no angry villagers behind her. The running men drew closer. Leah stumbled over a tree root, wasting precious time.
“Here, over here.” The voice came from overhead. Staring up into the canopy of leaves, she saw a small hand motioning to her. Of course, hide in the trees. Why didn’t she think of that? Grabbing the lowest limb, she pulled herself into the leafy covering. In the dark, she felt for the branches, climbing higher. Eventually she grabbed an ankle or calf, and received a hand up for her trouble, helping her climb higher.
Good Goddess, how many people were in this tree? She held her breath as the light and noise came closer. The few men below argued about which way to go, while a woman waded in with her opinion. “Samuel, let the witch get away. Mayhap he uses the witch for his own purposes.”
One of the front-runners denied the accusations. “Martha seeks to harm my name, because I did not plight my troth with her.”
The argument moved on a little farther away from the tree. Leah exhaled in a whoosh, thanking the stars for the scorned woman and lack of dogs. As if hearing her silent prayer, a long canine bay rent the air.
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I decided to write the series because I am fascinated by the idea of time travel. I also found out some good friends of mine were Pagan too. It amazed me I could know them for years and not know this. These two ideas came together to form the Pagan Eyes series.
Follow the family as each member ends somewhere else in time.