Laura Stamps
Joined: 24 Jul 2007
Posts: 27
Location: Columbia, SC
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 Posted: Tue Jul 24, 2007 3:55 pm Post subject: Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 of "The Witches of Dixie" |
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Here are the first two chapters of my new novel The Witches of Dixie: Book One of the Witchery Series to be published in Sept./Oct. 2007 by Trytium Publishing. Enjoy! 
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CHAPTER 1: Book of Shadows
First week in June, and the scent of honeysuckle saturates the forest behind Savannah Monroe’s house, rain droplets from last night’s thunderstorm clinging to each leaf. As this sweet fragrance drifts through an open window, she thinks the Fey must be fanning it her way, one of their favorite methods of greeting.
“Where could it be?” Savannah asks Horus, his eyes glowing like brass buttons stitched to a black suit, idly licking his paw. She yanks open another drawer, carefully sifting the contents, but finds no Book of Shadows. Usually, it sits in the middle of her altar, surrounded by green candles, crystals, and statues of Bast, her Patron Goddess. Yet for the first time in her Wiccan years it seems to have disappeared.
This frantic search started with an email she received this morning, which sent her running to the altar for the book containing her best prosperity spells. Marge Wilkerson, the buyer for Tiko’s, a national chain of boutiques, emailed to cancel her monthly order of handbags, claiming they no longer sell well for the company. Marge wrote she hopes to resume her monthly ordering schedule soon.
Savannah wonders. Her handbags have sold briskly in those boutiques for the past three years. Now Marge cancels an order. After reading the email, Savannah sat at her computer, fiddling with the pentacle earring dangling from her right ear.
“Something is up,” she murmured. That’s when she dashed to the altar and discovered her Book of Shadows was missing.
* * * * *
Her company, Savannah’s Magickal Handbags, began years ago by accident. Savannah needed not only a pretty purse for her job but also a functional one, meaning lots of pockets inside and out. When she couldn’t find what she needed, she decided to design one herself.
She found an old purse she no longer used, ripped it apart to understand its construction, and then pieced a new handbag together from the fabric scraps in her sewing basket. She added lace, beads, and sequins for a splash of color. Then she attached several charms charged with spells for health, wealth, and protection.
The response from other women surprised her. At the time she worked as a personal assistant to a fashion designer in Atlanta, the next step toward achieving her long-term goal of one day designing a line of clothing under her own label.
Savannah worked hard and slowly advanced up the fashion ladder. Handbag design was never part of the plan. Yet news traveled fast, and soon she received weekly requests from women willing to pay the high prices she asked for her unique handbag creations. Most loved the fact that each handbag was charmed. Soon Savannah realized she enjoyed designing these funky purses more than clothing.
After a year her bank balance soared with the extra money from handbag sales. She had also accumulated a long list customers, so she quit her position with the fashion designer and moved to the Appalachian Mountains of North Carolina, where she devoted her creative energy fulltime to Savannah’s Magickal Handbags.
Sales increased rapidly when she exhibited at Merchandise Marts and trade shows, including the International Gift Shows in New York and Atlanta. Department stores and boutiques across the country bought her handbags, and sales grew steadily for ten years.
Until now. Revenues dropped in January and continue to decline each month. June arrived, clicking its humid heels, and Marge canceled her monthly order.
Savannah shakes her head and continues to search for the misplaced Book of Shadows, while singing her daily chant:
“Beloved Bast, bring
money to me fast.
Bring business success.
May all my handbag
customers be blessed.”
An hour later Savannah stands in front of the altar, her personal spellbook still missing. She prays silently to Bast for help.
At that moment her two cats, Horus and Thoth, race through the living room, dashing beneath the altar. Black and sleek as an olive, Horus runs like a gazelle, a study in grace. But Thoth, a chocolate-swirl Maine Coon, looms large for his age and bumbles like a clumsy puppy.
Horus glides under the altar and into the kitchen with the slippery ease of a fish. But Thoth bumps into the leg of the altar, knocking half the contents over, some pieces crashing to the floor, including the box containing her tarot cards.
Savannah opens her mouth to scold Thoth, but stops when she notices the tarot cards spilled from the box, scattered across the carpet. All rest face-down except the Death card. And it lies in a reverse position.
Not a good sign.
CHAPTER 2: The Tarot Cats
Savannah retrieves the scattered pieces of her altar and moves each one back to its proper place. She leans the Death tarot card in the reverse position against a statue of Bast.
No doubt this is a message from the Goddess. One Savannah has refused to consider until now, and it laces her heart with dread. No business owner welcomes the idea that her business might be stagnant, that the time has arrived to change her tactics.
And it’s no surprise the card fell upside down. Change frightens her, especially when she’s worked so hard year after year to achieve a comfortable level of success.
“Ugh!” she groans, slumping into a chair, wrapping her arms around Thoth, scratching his fluffy head. “So now you’re dealing tarot cards?” She kisses his plush ear, knowing she should have seen this coming. For months Bast’s signs have buzzed around her as insistent as summer gnats.
Sales have been sliding all year, but Savannah continued to cast prosperity spells rather than consult her tarot cards. Now it’s no mystery why she misplaced her Book of Shadows. At some point she had to face the inevitable and listen to the voice of the oracle.
“What a mess,” she sighs. “I’ve wasted so much time. The first half of this year is ending in disaster.”
* * * * *
The next morning several finished handbags line Savannah’s worktable like a row of lovely ladies or Goddesses. A pile of various charms sits in
front, the last touch she adds to each bag. Horus and Thoth roll impatiently at her feet, wishing she were working with lace, ribbons, or beads today, so they might swat at these tantalizing embellishments when she turns away.
Savannah gathers the charms in one hand, slips on a satin green robe embroidered with golden stars and faeries, and walks into the living room to her altar. Laying the charms in the center of a cloth cleansed in sunlight, she pulls the altar into the middle of the room. Horus and Thoth jump on the sofa to watch.
After grounding her energy, she lights four candles from the altar and places them in a circle around it on the floor, walking clockwise, each candle representing one of the four directions. She stands in front of the altar and lifts her wand, calling to the mighty Watchtowers.
Facing the East, she points her wand at a candle illustrated with a crow and says, ”Beings of the Air, Guardians of the East, I welcome you to this sacred space and ask you to guard and support the magick preformed here today.”
She turns to the South, pointing her wand at a candle etched in hearts and says, “Beings of Fire, Guardians of the South, I welcome you to this sacred space and ask you to guard and support the magick preformed here today.”
Moving to the West, she lifts her wand toward a candle adorned with fish and says, “Beings of Water, Guardians of the West, I welcome you to this sacred space and ask you to guard and support the magick performed here today.”
Facing the North, Savannah points her wand at a candle decorated with sunflowers and says, “Beings of the Earth, Guardians of the North, I welcome you to this sacred space and ask you to guard and support the magick performed here today.”
Raising a cone of power, she turns to the altar, pointing her wand at the charms on the cloth and says:
“Thank you, Bast, the circle is cast.
I charge these charms with power
to draw wealth. Money, Come!
I charge these charms with power
to attract health. Healing, Come!
I charge these charms with power
to form a shield. Protection, Come!
Thank you, Faeries. So mote it be.”
After meditating on her intent, Savannah raises the wand, walking around the circle in a widdershins motion, saying: “The circle is open, but never broken, thank you Dear Guardians for protecting me.”
Horus and Thoth jump to the floor and circle Savannah’s feet like minnows in a pond, meowing for the treats she bestows after a spellcasting, their reward for leaving the candles and circle unbroken.
Later, while moving the altar back to its corner of the room and rearranging its contents, she sees Horus flipping around on the rug with a tarot card snug between his paws. “Horus!” she shouts, rushing over to grab the card before he punctures it with his teeth. “Where did you find this?” she says, brushing cat hair from the card. “I thought I picked them all up.” She looks at the card and shakes her head.
Rebirth.
Another puzzling message from Bast in response to her plea for help. She wonders how her business could be reborn when every new marketing strategy she implemented this year failed.
The ads she placed in newsstand magazines performed dismally, some bringing no response at all, certainly no orders. The mailing she sent to her customer list netted a dribble of orders, but not enough to cover her printing and postage costs. And the new lists she rented proved worthless for sales.
“Another card that makes no sense,” she murmurs, setting it next to the Death card on her altar.
(c) Laura Stamps
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Laura Stamps
"The Witchery Series" (Magickal Urban Fantasy Novels)
http://www.LauraStamps.blogspot.com (info about my novels)
http://www.OccultFiction.blogspot.com (my Author blog) |
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