I hope you will all join me on this journey and enjoy the ride along the way. I'll be posting news and updates on the books in the series as well as posting excerpts and reviews and contests as we go along.
Now, to get to the first post:
"The Chest of Secrets" Book 1 in "Adventures of a New Witch" is finally available for sale at KOBO and Amazon.
Here is the cover, blurb, as well as the links to buy it on Amazon and KOBO, and the excerpt:
Shy
ten-year-old Belle Wilson doesn’t like talking much, except to tell spooky
stories. She loves to scare her family. But when they move into her great Nana
Wilson’s home and they find out the very house they live in may be haunted, everything
changes. Belle gets caught in a big mystery. One that involves her dead great
grandmother and the Legend of Salmon Beach. Only Nana Wilson’s Chest of Secrets
can help Belle solve this mystery. Will she find it before what is haunting the
house finds her?
Excerpt:
Chapter
1
“I can’t
believe we’re not there yet,” my brother, Jon, said for the thousandth time.
And all
I wanted to do was scream because he was driving me crazy! This day had started
out fine, but was turning out to be a nightmare. I doubted it would get any
better.
Oh,
sorry, here I am complaining and I almost forgot to introduce myself. My name
is Isabelle Wilson, and I’m ten years old. My friends and family call me Belle
for short. I love chocolate, daydreaming, and reading. I’m not a big talker.
I’m mostly quiet and shy, but what I like to do is make up spooky stories and
scare people. It’s kind of a hobby of mine.
I have
an older brother, named Jon, who loves to bug me. He’s seventeen years old and
listens to music or is texting his friends most of the time. My sister, Jessica,
is sixteen and is the loud-mouth of the family. She loves to wear a lot of jewelry.
She often tells me I’m a pain in the neck.
The only
one in the family who is always happy to see me is my baby brother, Joseph. He
is one year old and always smiling, eating, or pooping.
My mom
is a writer. She writes mysteries and is a constant worry wart. My dad is like
me. He loves to joke and cheer people up. But today, no matter how he tried to
cheer us up, it wasn’t working.
We had
been sitting in our small minivan with all of our suitcases and boxes for most
of the day. It was cramped and stuffy. I was getting mad. I didn’t want to be
here travelling all these miles away from Montreal to a small town in New
Brunswick that I’ve never seen before. But we were doing just that. And why?
Because we were moving. Yes, moving there. Can you believe that?
Of
course it wasn’t my idea. It wasn’t my brother’s, or sister’s, either. Our
parents decided we should move there since my dad’s grandmother died and left
him her house. You see, my dad lost his job a few months ago and was having
problems finding another. So money was a problem for us. And when his
grandmother left him the house, my mom and dad decided it would be a good idea
for us to go live there. They said living in a small town would be a good thing
for us. Maybe my dad would have better luck finding a job there, and my mom
could spend more time writing. The more stories she could write, the more money
we could get.
The
problem is now I have to go to a new school, make new friends, meet new
teachers, and a new principal. I’m not exactly a popular person, so it’s hard
for me to make friends. But I don’t want to worry about that now. I have other
problems to deal with, like my baby brother’s dirty diaper.
“Mom,
you need to change Joseph’s diaper. He’s like a stink bomb!” I said, holding my
nose.
Mom
turned to Dad and asked, “Can we stop somewhere so I can change him?”
Dad
shook his head. “We’re almost there.” And after a minute, he pointed up ahead.
“See, there’s the house.”
I peeked
over my mom’s shoulder to where my dad pointed. “All I see is an old broken-down
house.”
He
smiled. “That’s it!”
Jon
cursed, “Are you serious!”
My older
sister, Jessica, added, “That’s an ugly house! That is the ugliest house I’ve
ever seen.”
I wanted
to say something, also, but decided not to. Jon and Jessica pretty much said it
all.
“I know
it doesn’t look like much now, but we’ll fix it up and it’ll look great. You’d
be surprised what a good paint job can do,” Dad said, smiling at us as he
parked the car in front of the house.
“This
place needs more than just a good paint job,” Jessica said.
“Exactly,”
Jon added.
“Now,
kids, you have to think positive. See the good in this,” Mom said, taking
Joseph out of his car seat.
“Yeah,
like now, you all get your own rooms. You don’t need to share a room anymore,”
Dad said.
Jessica
shrugged, looking down at me. “Yeah, that part of the deal, I like.”
And I
just sighed. I wasn’t the one who took up three quarters of our small room in
Montreal. Jessica did that with all her clothes, jewelry, make up, and stuff.
Dad
walked up to the front door. The screen was hanging off the doorframe and the
paint had peeled off the wood. He put the key in the lock and opened the door.
It
creaked open. It sounded like a screeching cat. He turned to us and said,
“Welcome to our new home.”
Mom
walked in first holding stink bomb Joseph, then Jon and Jessica went in after
her. Dad looked at me and asked, “Aren’t you coming in, Belle?”
I
nodded, smiling and made my way to the door. With each step I took closer to
the house, the more creeped out I got. There was something weird going on here.
I could feel it.
