Meet my Little Witches! - FREE SAMPLE CHAPTERS!

by - September 20, 2015

Meet my family of Witches - THE VALENTINES


I've been writting this story called LITTLE WITCHES for a while, now, about a family of witches, newly arrived to a small town in New England, after Elsie and Tabitha's estranged father suddenly passes away.

As Ted Harding's only heirs, the two women inherite his fortune and businesses. Carrington, the small town by the sea they start to call home, will shake with fear with these powerful newly arrivals.


I leave you with a FIRST CHAPTER, so you can take a look, and see what you think of it! Also, I'll leave you the link for the first 6 chapters of the story on WATTPAD, for you to read COMPLETELY FREE OF CHARGE.






ELSIE                                                  TABITHA




BOO                                       NORA


MEDEA

Happy Readings,
Sophie



Little Witches

Copyright © 2015 by Sophie Quinn

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any matter whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

Lulu Press, Inc
Northampts, England, UK

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Prologue

Ted Harding had lived a long and happy life. At the extensive age of eighty three, he had accomplished more than any other man in Carrington, New Hampshire, could brag about. He owned a bunch of old stores along with a very cheap and sought after motel. He owned, without a doubt, the biggest and most expensive mansion set in the seaside town. He had never married, for he was too paranoid about losing his fortune to ever have relatives, especially a wife and children. He had, of course, enjoyed his richness, with expensive furniture, cars and women. Indeed, Ted Harding was a known name along the New Hampshire’s coast.
He was listening to a loud classical tune, coming from the surround system he had installed in the house. The generous piece of lemon tart set over the white and golden plate glistened under the chandelier. The remains of the tart itself… well, half was already rolling around in his stomach, and the rest waiting for its turn.
He felt a shiver go up his spine. Were the windows open? He looked to the end of the table, and realized the big white windows were all shut; still, the curtains swayed ever so slightly.
“Rita, there’s a damn window open!” Ted’s accented voice yelled out to his housekeeper “You know how I get a rasp in my throat with the slightest breeze.”
No answer. Ted sighed heavily, but he continued to eat.
The next shiver came suddenly. This time, he felt a thump in his chest. He gasped and looked from over his shoulder again. Darkness, there was nothing more in the dining room, nothing more than stuffed animal heads hanging on the red walls; no more than his very own soul and breath.
A shadow. Ted was certain he saw a shadow outside in the corridor.
“Rita?” He called out, clearing his throat in the end “Rita, did you close that window?”
No sound but for his heavy breathing.
It was the heat; the late summer heat was finally getting to him. He really should start following his governess’, Rita, advice, and start taking long walks around the garden, and not stay inside in the stuffy air.
He eyed his tart again, and immediately after he took one of his too big bites, he saw it. The shadow. The chill. The pain in the pit of his stomach. Her!
The woman standing at the end of the table was an illusion. It had to be! Dear God, but she had been dead for… Fourty years, now? Maybe even more!
Still, the curtains fluttered around her lean, tall body. Her long blonde hair and her light blue crystal dress danced around her legs. Her skin was flour white, her hands long and elegant, her feet bare; she looked like an angel, but he had known Rosemary Valentine was far from it.
“You’re dead.” He whispered to the ghost “You’ve been gone for… decades!”
The woman did not speak; her bare feet took small and delicate steps towards the end of the table where he sat. The closer she came, the more Ted felt the cold. He was so cold now, goosebumps all over his skin, the air in his nape stood up. Long gone was the summer by the sea, the heat and the sweat. The tall blond beauty came closer and closer, and once she stood right in front of him, in a big halo of white light, her soft and chilly forefinger touched the center of his forehead.
He gasped at the images that quickly travelled around his brain. The girls. The blonde woman and her daughters. The blonde woman crying, begging him. Her death, at such young age, leaving behind two little girls that needed care and love and a home. He had ignored them all. He had ignored and renounced his duties, and now, the woman was back for her revenge.
“That’s why you came, wasn’t it, Rosemary?” He whispered, chewing on the last piece of pie in his plate.
The woman didn’t answer, but she did let out a soft chuckle. Ted felt his throat get tight. This was it, he knew, her revenge. She was taken from life too soon, he had been partially guilty, and she was now back to take him to Hell.
The last thing he saw was her big smile, those sharp teeth, her round blue eyes. And her laugh… Dear God, her laugh was just like the Devil’s itself! The last thing he saw were her soft blue eyes turn hard and black, like an empty and crushing black-hole.
“Witch…” He gasped, the piece of lemon tart stuck like glue to his trachea “You damn witch!”

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