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Description
The title and cover of this book has been changed to better reflect the content. Formerly published as Something Wicked.

Jean Ryan has inherited a singular gift, the gift of magic. She must quickly learn to use her magic gift before the opposing dark magic forces destroy her world. Jean and Wayne, her friend, work together to discover why her gift has attracted the attention of an evil circle of magic users and how to combat them.

As she learns to use her magic, Jean finds revenge bites backwards, friends are not always what they seem, and that magic is not a toy. In the end she has to stand alone against an evil worse than any she has ever imagined.
The book is 56,000 words or about 224 pages in print.


Jean talks about her story:

I never dreamed magic was real until my grandmother gave me the box just before she died.  She told me to use the box carefully and that I was the only one who could use the box and the artifacts until I passed it on to someone else, that it rested on my shoulders now.  But she didn't tell me what "it" was.

At first I used the magic as a toy.  I mean, what fourteen-year-old wouldn't?  Doesn't everyone wish she could do magic?  Soon I had to show my two best friends.  Wayne, my oldest best friend, grew up with me.  Karen, my new best friend, only moved to our town last year. 

Wayne helped me learn to use my magic, while Karen became obsessed with my box and kept trying to talk me into giving it to her.  Horrible things happened.  People almost died.  Why did so many people want my magic box?  With a sense of urgency hanging over me, I had to learn to use my new powers fast. 

Imagine my fear when I read Grandma's journals and found what she expected me to use the magical powers for.   
How could I possibly do this?
How could I not try?



Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
We climbed into the boat and pushed with the oars until we hit the current. It slammed into the boat and we frantically steered with the oars to move into the middle of the current. A tree branch struck the side of the boat with a thud and bounced off. We traveled swiftly downstream, peering into the darkness for the island. I choked down the rising nausea I felt at being in the swirling, murky water.
“We have to aim for the middle of the island as soon as we spot it, so we don't get swept by.” Wayne shouted at me above the noise of the wind and water.
I nodded. We almost missed it. Suddenly there it was and we paddled frantically toward the island. When the boat crunched against gravel, we jumped out and dragged it up on the grass, out of the pulling water. It wouldn't be safe long. The water was steadily creeping upward.
“I'll stay with the boat so we don't lose it.” Wayne waved his arm toward the water. He jerked his chin at the island. “You go find Rachel. Yell if you need me.”
I squished through the spongy grass toward the center of the small island, fighting down panic. A thin layer of water was creeping ever higher. “Rachel! Rachel! Where are you?”
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