by Emily Bybee
Genre: YA Paranormal Romance
Release Date: December 2019
Wild Rose Press
Summary:
Someone wants Sydney dead. Only problem is, she has no idea who. Pushing her off a cliff, thinking the deadly ocean waves will finish their dirty-work, was their first mistake. The near-death experience opens channels of uncontrollable magic, which Sydney is told should have remained dormant. As if finding out magic is real and hit-lists aren't enough, Sydney discovers her family lied to her. They were witches too. But they're all dead. And she's left to fend off the psychos after her blood with only Luke, her childhood crush turned steamy college student, on her side. Turns out being a witch isn't as awesome as you'd think, especially when your magic has fatal consequences.
Purchase Links:
Book One:
Release Date: October 31st 2018
Summary:
As the world’s worst witch, Maddie is mistreated by her own kind. She was born a Defect. Most of her spells blow up in her face, literally. While witches search for the long-lost power of the earth, Maddie spends her time in the science lab. There, she discovers a clue to the lost power. The only other witness is Jax, a smokin’ hot college bad-boy, who Maddie can’t decide if she wants to kiss or kill.
When she fails her magic final, the council orders her magic stripped. Maddie’s only chance to keep her brain intact is to find the power with the hope that it can fix her. Jax is her one true ally on the journey. The two of them must use their smarts to stay ahead of the witches while they follow a two-hundred-year-old trail to the power of the earth and the truth behind Maddie’s defect.
Fatal Magic Excerpt
Chapter
One
A
noxious scent assaulted my nose the moment I stepped into my room. With a hand
over my face, I dropped my swim bag by the bed and glared at my roommate,
Rowan.
“What
did you put in it this time?” I waved at the oil diffuser that continued to
pump toxic vapor into the air.
She
didn’t lift her attention from the chemistry textbook in her lap. “It’ll help
us remember everything for the test tomorrow. It’s eucalyptus, tea tree,
patchouli, cypress, a couple of others, and peppermint of course.”
“Of
course.” Rowan claimed peppermint would cure everything from headaches to zits.
I flopped on my bed and looked at the poster tacked to the ceiling above me.
Golden eyes stared back from the cheetahs, my favorite animal.
“You’ll
get used to the smell in a few minutes.”
“I’m
not studying.” I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t need to remember more chemistry. I
have a C.”
“How
can you be happy with a C?” she gasped. “Chemistry is like the key to life.”
“I
will never need to remember anything in that book.” I waved to the text and met
her glare with raised eyebrows. “Come on, let’s do something fun.”
She
rolled her eyes. “Some of us have to keep our GPA up.”
Rowan
was on a scholarship. She had to keep her Grade Point Average above a three-
point-seven five to stay in school. I groaned into my pillow at the thought of
trying to cram more useless molecular knowledge into my unwilling brain. “Hand
me your book. I’ll quiz you.”
Her
face brightened like a puppy who’d been asked if she wanted to go for a walk.
“Really? You’re the best-est friend ever.”
The
music erupting from my cell phone stopped my response.
Rowan
glanced at the display and stuck her tongue out. “Uncle Pete.”
I
groaned, but a small seed of hope sprouted—like it always did when he called. I
quashed the hope and denied the call before the inevitable disappointment set
in. “The token phone call.”
“You
aren’t going to answer?”
I
got to my feet on legs that were already feeling two hours spent in the pool at
swim and dive practice. “No, let’s go for a run.”
“It’s
okay, you go ahead.” Rowan hunched her back and smashed her face into the chemistry
book. Her long dark hair fell forward and muffled her voice. “I have to figure
out these acid-base reactions.”
Slipping
on my running shoes, I grabbed her notecards. “We can quiz each other while we
run. It’ll be fun.” I waved the cards just out of her grasp. “I seem to
remember some smart person telling me about a study saying you learn things
better if you’re moving.”
“Fine.
I guess getting the blood flow going might help.” She stretched and groaned. “I
can’t feel my feet.”
An
hour later, I sat at my desk, water bottle in hand. Running outside in the
brisk air and brilliant fall leaves calmed my nerves like nothing else. Our
boarding school sat on eight-hundred acres of Hudson River Valley heaven near
New York City.
My
cell phone, which I’d left in our dorm, during our run, spouted its ringtone
again.
“It’s
probably your uncle. You should answer,” Rowan said.
I
waved it off. “I’ll call him tomorrow. You getting an A is more important.”
Shaking
her head, she grabbed the phone. Her brow wrinkled. “It’s a weird number.” She
smirked and answered. “Sydney’s House of Limp Noodles, how may I direct your
call?”
I stifled my laughter.
The smile faded from Rowan’s face.
With
a tilt of my head, I mouthed, “What?”
“May I ask who’s calling?” she asked, in a tone
I’d only ever heard her use with teachers.
Nausea
tightened my stomach, and my left hand went to the ring on my right ring
finger, my own personal nervous habit. Some people twirl their hair or bite
their nails—I mess with my ring. It’s better than sucking on pens, if you ask
me.
With her hand over the mouthpiece, she held the
phone away from her face and screeched, “You’re going to want to take this.
It’s him.”
I pushed away from my desk. “What? Who?”
She held out her arms and shook her head. “Who
have you been talking about for, like, years?”
I threw my hands out in the air. “Edward?”
“Seriously?”
She scrunched up her nose and blinked a few times. “You think a vampire is on
the phone? It’s Luke.”
Every muscle froze. I stared at my cell as if I
could see the caller through the minuscule holes in the receiver. I’d decided
Luke was the boy I wanted to marry at the age of six. I might have still been
harboring a fantasy or three along those lines.
Rowan gave me an encouraging nod and busied
herself with dumping something new in the oil diffuser. The toxic fumes mixed
with a soothing lavender scent.
“Hello?” I squeaked. Rowan’s brow furrowed, and
she motioned for me to breathe. I inhaled the fragrant mist. A calmness spread
over me.
“Sydney? It’s Luke. How are you doing?” His
voice had changed since we last talked. Deeper now, and more masculine in tone.
“I’m great, awesome. I’m…” I stammered. My gaze
searched the room for something more exciting than studying. They settled on
the warmer on Rowan’s dresser. “Waxing my armpits.”
I
bit my lips and pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Ouch,” he said.
Ripping out sweaty hair. Sexy. My heart thudded
against my ribcage. Rowan smacked her own forehead and collapsed onto her bed
like a silent movie star. I sent her a glare.
“Syd, there’s something I need to tell you. My
mom called you earlier on Pete’s phone. I’m not sure how to say this.” His tone
conveyed the message clearly. He definitely hadn’t called to profess his
undying love.
My voice sounded hollow, even to my own ears.
“Then just say it.”
“Your
uncle had a heart attack this morning. I’m sorry Syd. He’s gone.”
I didn’t hear anything else he said. The phone
dropped to the floor from my frozen fingers.
Emily grew up loving to read and escape into stories. She began writing her own at the age of twelve. In college she focused on science and graduated with a degree in Environmental Biology. After college she began writing again but quickly realized she had failed to take a single writing or grammar class. Luckily, she’s a quick learner. Emily now lives in Colorado with her wonderful husband, three amazing children, and way too many animals. She still enjoys making up stories and can’t seem to leave out the paranormal elements because they are just too much fun.
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