Witch Twins Secrets — Louise Bohmer

This is a serial fantasy novel that will be released in regular installments. Watch for Book 3: Witch Twins Cursed coming soon.

The history of a curse is filled with bloody battles, bitter hatred, and dark secrets.

Through five generations, ghosts of war haunt the wise women. When the rebellion of Glenna ends, their curse sleeps bound in the Tunnels of the Dead, waiting for its chance to re-awaken the war between the wood people and Dalthwein clans. Claire, a wise woman born in the valley of the fae, unwittingly helps it escape imprisonment, while her twin sister Anna receives psychic glimpses of ancient secrets she must unravel. With her scribe teacher Rosalind, she also struggles to uncover the reasons behind Claire's strange behavior, ever escalating since the death of their guild mother, Grianne.

The Age of the Wise Women will cease if the curse does not end with Anna and Claire. Perhaps inheriting the mistakes of their ancestors and learning the truths of their identities will bring great suffering for these witch twins.

In Book 2: Witch Twins Secrets, Anna begins having visions of the witch guild's creation history, and Claire reveals the devastating secret their guild mother told her before she died.

The Black Act Book 1: Witch Twins Born is now available for free.

Excerpt: She surely would've died had it not been for him.

Claire stirred to the sound of eerie music. Someone was piping a tune on a wooden flute and they could not be far off. Her sluggish heart beat faster with the promise of a possible rescue.

She followed the haunting song to a cluster of pines. There, under the largest tree in the cluster, a tall, burly satyr leaned against the trunk. His head was bent forward as he concentrated on the notes he played. His fingers moved slowly across a pattern of holes notched into the wood to produce the sad melody.

Against the backdrop of the pristine snow, his mahogany skin shone like the dark opening to an inviting cave. The woodman stood with his head tucked forward and his chin pointed toward his chest, one furry thigh drawn up so his cloven hoof of earth and bone rested on the tree trunk. As Claire drew nearer she had to stop herself from calling out in awe at his odd, otherworldly beauty.

She was certain he could not be from any of the northern forests, or even from the east or west forests. She'd never seen a woodman the likes of him. His hide was blacker than an empty night sky. Unlike most woodmen of the northern forests, who were tall, looming creatures usually made of oak, pine, or flesh woven from birch, this satyr was shorter, squat, more thickly built. His body was comprised of soil, mahogany, and a shaggy, black fur that covered his midriff and hindquarters. Thick, wormy white and brown roots twined around his torso and up his neck, holding his form together.

Claire came within a few feet of the satyr and he abruptly stopped piping his tune. He turned his head and a yellow, intent gaze met hers. His presence pinned her where she stood. She swallowed and bowed to him, showing respect for his kind and apology for her intrusion on his solitude.

Through chattering teeth, she spoke. “I beg your pardon for startling you, but -- ” Tears broke free and she could barely speak as she collapsed to the snow blanketed ground.

For more information on The Black Act, visit: http://www.louisebohmer.com/site/the-black-act/