9781618851307WitchsBrewShayNC Read Online Free

lime-green, lemon-yellow and sunset-orange.
    Abundant with over-sized mushrooms on the leafy covered
ground, small animals raced to and fro to their burrows in the magical forest.
Birds of all colors and sizes darted through strange colored sky, chirping and
diving for treats on the ground.
    The forest stretched endlessly to her left and to her
right, nearly surrounding a tiny, quaint village spread before her. The quiet
town reminded her of pictures she’d seen of Colonial settlements. How could
that be? Had she somehow been flung back in time? If so, where was she?
      It’d soon be dark.
She had to find shelter for the night. No way did she want to be caught out in
these strange woods after dark. She glanced down at her jeans, noted a new rip
on the knee. How had that happened? Feeling at a loss and struggling to fight
the panic closing in on her, she looked around for her one piece of luggage. It
was nowhere to be seen.
    Then as if something or someone had read her mind, her
suitcase appeared beside her. Saylym stared at the offending piece of luggage.
She didn’t know which was worse, having it appear from nowhere, or not appear,
when she for certain needed its contents. Giving it a dark scowl, she decided
she was grateful. At least she’d have clean clothes.
    Before she could gather her wits, a clap of thunder and a
strange sounding cackle filled the peculiar sky above the trees. From out of
nowhere, an ancient looking white-haired woman appeared before her.
    “What a rush,” she hooted, rocking unsteadily on her
heels. The old woman straightened the red pointed hat on her head from where it
had tilted to one side and cackled, revealing shiny, pink gums. She shook out
the blue skirt dusting the ground and straightened her bright yellow bodice.
Sturdy, black shoes covered her feet. If she wasn’t dressed in such loud
colors, Saylym would swear the old woman was the wicked witch of the West,
except her face wasn’t green.
    “Welcome to Sanctuary, Saylym Winslow,” she said, clapping
her hands. “The witches of our little village town have waited a long time for
your arrival.”
    Saylym moaned and toppled to the ground at the old lady’s
feet in a dead faint.
    When she came to, the aged crone had somehow managed to
get her inside a cottage and on a bed. The witchy looking hag declared the small
house now belonged to Saylym.
    “And guess what?” she said.
    Saylym shook her head, afraid to ask.
    “You’re so lucky to have me for a next door neighbor. I’ll look after you, my dear. You can
trust me.”
    She wasn’t so sure about her luck, but here she was,
living in Sanctuary, next door to Eldora Waters, and what a character the old
lady was. The very next day, Eldora slapped a deed to the house into her hands.
It was a gift. And no, she couldn’t tell her who gave it to her. The benefactor
wished to remain anonymous. Presto. One
problem solved. She had a place to live and no house payment to worry about.
    Life was good. Life was great. Or was it?
    Saylym stared at her reflection in the mirror and sighed.
It had done her little good to question the crone. Nothing the old lady said
made a lick of sense. Worse, when she asked people in the village where the
city of Salem was located or how to get there, horror masked their faces and
they shied away from her. No help there.
    Her life had flipped upside down when she rubbed that ring,
and so had her world.
    Why did that old cab driver have to be the only cabbie at
the airport that day?
    Saylym frowned, her brows drawing together as she walked
over to her dresser and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Faint color
bloomed on her cheekbones, the same shade as the pink cotton shirt she wore.
She looked nice and sane. A rueful twist to her full lips suggested barely
contained laughter. It was illogical to feel excited about all the unusual
things happening to her lately. She rolled her eyes. It was illogical,
but she either had to accept the fact she now lived