February is Also for Paranormal Romance

by Leigh Goff

Sixteen-year-old Sophie Goodchild, the half-witch main character from my YA fantasy romance, Disenchanted is here to answer the following February This or That questions.

Chocolates or Flowers?
My Aunt Janie, an herbalist witch who owns a shop called Scents and Scentsabilities, has infused a deep appreciation for plant magic into my head and heart, but she also makes a mean enchanted chocolate confection to help me keep secrets and it melts on my tongue in the most delicious way. I’m torn on this question, but if I have to choose, I choose flowers because they really communicate so much more sentiment than chocolate, and they come in handy when you want to concoct magical products like Tulips to Kiss Stick and Forever First Love Lip Balm.

Going out or staying in?
Staying in. Hands down. When you are dating a guy as hot as mine, you want to spend as much alone time together as possible. His name is Alexavier. He’s American, but went to school in London, so he has a dreamy British accent. He’s tall, dark-haired, and a bad boy at heart. Did I mention he’s forbidden? Oh yeah. *Swoon*

Fancy restaurant or pizza/burger joint?
I’m going with fancy restaurant on this one. Witches own most of the pizza/burger/sandwich shops in Wethersfield, and sometimes, they add enchanted ingredients like Parisian basil to their Witch Wraps to keep customers coming back. I’ll take mine without Parisian basil, thank you very much!

Action flick or romantic comedy?
Alexavier really prefers action flicks because he is all about action. He never shies away from a fight. He even goes out in thunderstorms looking for trouble. That’s how we met. Me, I prefer watching zombie flicks with my pal, Callum. My friend, Macey thinks there is a love triangle going on with Alexavier, Callum, and me, but as sweet as Callum is, my heart belongs to Alexavier.

Nightclub or ballroom?
Ballroom. And only because of the weird dreams I’ve been having lately where I find myself wearing seventeenth century gowns and dancing to harpsichord music with a well-dressed gentleman who looks a lot like Alexavier. I think my witch ancestor is trying to tell me something…

Coffee or cocktails?
Coffee. I’m too young to drink cocktails and with the sleepless nights I’ve been having thanks to a witchy ghost from the past, caffeine is exactly what I need to wake up and keep me out of trouble. Good thing I have my mom’s diamond bloodcharm to enhance my magic, just in case trouble finds me and I’m not caffeinated.

Candy or Fresh Fruit?
Fresh fruit if they happen to be chocolate covered strawberries. Here's my favorite recipe from Food.com:

Wickedly Delicious Chocolate Covered Strawberries

Photo by Ambro

2 pints strawberries, with stems if possible
1 ½ cups semi-sweet chocolate chips (or milk chocolate chips)
2 tbsp. corn syrup
6 tbsp. butter

Wash strawberries and pat dry. Place on paper towels until they reach room temperature.

Melt chocolate chips, corn syrup, and butter in a double boiler, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat and dip each strawberry into chocolate, coating ⅔ of strawberry. Allow excess chocolate to drip off into pan.

Place stem side down on waxed paper covered baking pan or cookie sheet. Refrigerate until set, about 15-20 minutes.

Yields approximately 28 strawberries.

This excerpt from Disenchanted gives you more insight to Sophie and her inner feelings. I hope you enjoy it.

He grinned his seductive grin, letting me glimpse his dangerous streak. Most likely a family trait and I had to make sure I didn’t forget it was there. He did seem different from them, not as affected from the poison running through their veins.

“I’m curious about you.”

My heart pleaded with my head to ignore the doubts and questions, to be in the moment and believe it was possible. “I love my garden, but this is what I like the most about Wethersfield. Right here. Where the star-crossed lovers are buried. Their story...well, it’s an interesting one.”

His lips pursed. He drew back, dejected. “Their story? Their story is a tragedy. One of many in the Mather family history.”

“The end is tragic, but it’s still a love story and this tree...” I raised my hand, admiring its lushness. “It’s a symbol of their forbidden love. Centuries with no berries and now look at it.” The mulberry swayed with the breeze as if it were dancing. The branches flaunted multitudes of pale, red berry clusters that had begun to ripen for the first time. I liked to think the tree was finally done mourning, but I had no idea why it picked this year of all its three hundred plus years.

“You sound like you believe in happy endings.”

“I want to. Don’t you?” He was kind of young to be tainted, I thought. My mind drifted to the possibility he had been jilted by a beautiful duchess during his time in London.

“Like I said, I come from a long line of tragedy in my family.”

I bit my lip for a second. He was right about that. For as long as we knew his family, they had been dropping dead, and usually in the prime of their lives, except for the really mean ones like the reverend, and his father and Zeke. “You know you have to fight for your own happy ending. You have to will it to happen.”

His eyes held mine, leaving me breathless again. I struggled to think straight.
“I’d bet you’re good at willing things to happen.”

A tendril of sable hair tickled my cheek. I brushed it away. “I’m good at making mistakes. Lots of mistakes.”

His eyebrows furrowed with disbelief. “You make it rain flower petals, yet you wallow in self-pity?”

He was aware I created the storm of blossoms. Crud. Of course, he was. There was no good explanation for it. My stomach sank. “I...uh...uh.”

He grinned, not fazed at all by what I could do. “How would you feel about having me as a friend, Sophie?”

My heart fluttered when he said my name, but I glanced at him curiously, not understanding what he was offering. “I choose my friends carefully.” I thought back to my dream last night. I wasn’t afraid of him, but how could I trust him?

He grimaced from my pause. His threw his hands out in front of him. “Look, I know you hate my family. And we haven’t exactly gotten along swimmingly, but I was thinking, it might be easier for both of us if we could find some middle ground.”

Incredulity colored my tone. “You want to be friends?”

“Why not?” he replied.

I shook my head. “Surprisingly weird.”

“Me?”

“Your suggestion.”

“It’s not weird at all.” He extended his hand to me as if he were serious. “Shake on it.”

My heart yearned for his touch, but it wrestled against the logic from my head. “I can’t.” I glanced around, knowing that since the Wethersfield Witch Trials, minus the rare exceptions, witches were forbidden to enter into any kind of a relationship with ordinaries, especially the Mathers. “This is crazy. Our families are enemies and...and I hate you.” My lips tingled from the devil’s bit, confirming what I already felt. It was a lie. I didn’t hate him at all. In fact, I feared it was the opposite. “Tell me what you really want from me.” I subtly pointed my finger in his direction.

“Verum,” I whispered in a hushed voice, attempting to cast a truth spell on him. The magic trickled out. I watched for a change in his focus, but as I watched him, a heart shape carved into the bark of the mulberry’s tree trunk behind him. My eyes popped. I closed my mouth, still staring at the engraving. “Wha?” I uttered in disbelief. Mishaps were guaranteed when I was near him.

“What do I want from you?” he repeated back to me, unaware of my fail.

I averted my eyes, feeling ridiculous.

“I want you to be you. You’ve got everyone thinking you’re thoroughly ordinary when you’re the farthest thing from it.”

I peered up at his beautiful face from beneath my lashes. Did he see through me? Did he really know what I was? “What would your father think about you wanting to be my friend?”

“It’s no one’s business but ours.”

“Ours? Like you and me together?” My brow crinkled. “A secret friendship?” I tried to ignore my quickening pulse. Everything in me wanted to believe him. My head railed against the idea. I would be breaking rules and there would be consequences.

He stepped closer. “I think we’re both good at keeping secrets. Why not one more?”

I swallowed hard. “You seem to have everything, including a terror for a brother who’s got your back. Why do you need a friend?”

“Everyone needs a friend.”

He held his hand out, wanting me to shake it while his eyes held me tight. In that moment, dizziness crept in and an overwhelming feeling of falling from a cliff followed. The intensity of it scared me. I put my hand up in a stop motion and pressed my other hand to my stomach, hoping the plummeting sensation would pass. I backed away. My head and heart tore away at each other. “I can’t do this.”

His face bore a forlorn expression. “You’re right. I’m playing with fire, a bad habit of mine. This was stupid of me. I’m sorry.”

Curiosity creased in my brow. “What do you mean ‘playing with fire’?”

His eyes, holding tight to his secret, burned through me. “I mean you. I’m pretending I can control something that’s out of my control. I can’t be around you without getting burned, yet I’m completely drawn to you.” He parted his soft lips. “Like a moth to the flame.”

Buy Links:
Mirror World Publishing - Amazon

Leigh Goff loves writing young adult fiction with elements of magic and romance because it's also what she liked to read. Born and raised on the East Coast, she now lives in Maryland where she enjoys the area's great history and culture.

Leigh is a graduate of the University of Maryland, University College and a member of the Maryland Writers' Association and Romance Writers of America. She is also an approved artist with the Maryland State Arts Council. Her debut novel, Disenchanted, was inspired by the Wethersfield witches of Connecticut and was released by Mirror World Publishing. Leigh is currently working on her next novel, The Witch's Ring which is set in Annapolis.

Learn more about Leigh Goff on her website and blog. Stay connected on Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, and Goodreads.

The Real and Wicked Wethersfield Witches

by Leigh Goff

For Halloween, I’d like to introduce everyone to a little American witch history. The first American witch trials took place in Wethersfield, Connecticut, a historic Puritan town near Hartford, in the sixteen-sixties. During this time, the Puritan population of Wethersfield was suffering from bouts of sickness and mental fits, for which they blamed the devil, who was surely acting through powerful female vessels who had succumbed to his evil charms.

Neighbors spied on one another and casted blame on women like Rebecca Greensmith. In 1662, several witnesses spied her dancing, drinking, and making merry in the woods with other accused witches. Then a neighbor afflicted with fits of blasphemy accused Rebecca of bewitching her. The Wethersfield witch hunts were followed by trials presided over by the Reverend Increase Mather (his son, Cotton, grew up to be just like dad and, a few decades later, had his own hands bloodied with the Salem Witch Trials). Rebecca, who was not afraid to hide her wicked side, admitted to having conversations with the devil, claiming to form a pact with him, as well as colluding with other witches in the woods. Her shocking confession along with, in the Reverend Mather's judgment, her lack of fear for God, her familiarity with the devil, and her involvement in unnatural events, was enough for him to condemn her to death by hanging.

The historical event left me to wonder…what if Rebecca's story did not end there? After all, she admitted to having an alliance with a powerful figure and she had a reputation for hexing neighbors. Who is to say she did not have time to take her vengeance on the Mather bloodline before the noose slipped over her neck?

This question along with the Wethersfield history inspired my newly released YA fantasy, Disenchanted, where Sophie Goodchild, my curious and impetuous sixteen-year-old half-witch protagonist, is a modern-day descendant of the aforementioned Rebecca Greensmith.

As Sophie struggles with her emerging magic and deals with a group of full-blooded witch frenemies, her impatience and curiosity lead her into trouble. She meets the mysterious Alexavier Mather, a descendant of Increase Mather who had a hand in hanging Sophie's ancestor at Gallows Hill. When he reveals his name, she immediately hates him, but senses he is hiding a dark secret and there’s nothing Sophie loves more than uncovering a good secret.

Danger finds her as she delves into the mysteries from both their families’ pasts. Then she begins to fall for the forbidden Alexavier who reveals that his bloodline is hexed with a true love curse that could destroy them.

Alas, there is hope. If Sophie can learn how to tap into the mysterious power of her blood-red diamond charm and find an ancient book of dark spells, she might be able to disenchant the Mather bloodline and save them both.

However, she must first deal with the deadly threat that is Alexavier’s father, Judge Mather, and he has a nasty secret of his own that will drive Sophie to make an impossible choice, one from which she may never return…

As the vision wore off, the glass jar tumbled from my fingers and smashed into tiny shards against the porcelain of the sink. I crumpled to the bathroom floor. The vision of Elizabeth’s last night was her final message. I cradled my face in my hands. My hatred for the judge was no different from Rebecca’s in its depth and darkness. I hated that it was, but I was going to need it. It would carry me through the ritual necessary to save Alexavier. I gripped the edge of the vanity and pulled myself to standing.

I touched my hand to my bloodcharm and dressed in the uniform then took a deep breath as I slid the ceremonial black robe off its hanger and tied the satin belt around my waist. I smoothed my hands against the front panels of fabric, feeling the cold silk against my fingertips. An icy trickle of darkness, the same liquid black ice I felt before listening to Judge Mather and Laney, traveled the length of my arm.

This time, I invited it in.

I felt the darkness tame my impetuous nature, allowing me to feed slowly on the hatred and control it. The coldness flowed through my veins and to the lengths of each limb. The icy darkness pooled in my chest and chilled my heart.

The change was beginning. “Elizabeth, I hope you’re right about the magic in me being able to change black hearts ’cause I’m going to need it for my own.”

The doorbell chimed, startling me to a more alert state. “Hold on,” I shouted. I opened the duffel bag and removed the knife and vial before tossing the robe in. I stuffed the small items in my skirt pocket and carried the bag with me downstairs, setting it in the foyer. I clenched my hands tightly together before opening the door. “Cal? What are you doing here?” I asked, shocked to see him on my doorstep.

“I was worried about you,” he said abruptly, entering the house and grabbing me by the hand.

“I don’t have time for this right now. I have a meeting with my aunt tonight,” I implored impatiently.

“A meeting?” He noticed the gray skirt and white shirt. “Not yet.” He led me to the kitchen and pulled a chair out.

He studied me and grimaced. “Sophie, I don’t know what’s going on, but I get the feeling you’re in trouble.” Perhaps it was his connection to tribal magic, but beyond his tough guy exterior, he was surprisingly intuitive.

“Cal, I’ll be fine. I’m a little stressed and tired, that’s all.” I blinked, feeling a strange weight on my lashes. I glanced at my hands, turning them over. My skin looked luminescent. Flawless. I smacked my lips together, feeling their plumpness.

He scrunched his face up as he eyed me. “Tired? You don’t look tired. Are you wearing makeup?”

I raced to the foyer mirror, out of Cal’s view. My heart-shaped lips bloomed a blood red, my lashes thickened and bowed upward like the arms of a goddess, a dewy glow radiated from my flawless ivory complexion, and as I watched, the messy knot unrolled down the length of my back into a wavy sea of glossy sable hair. My mouth fell open.

“I wasn’t finished.” Cal marched toward me. “Whoa. What is going on?”

I turned to him, having to act like I normally did. “Nothing.”

His eyebrows arched. “Something. Did you get a makeover in the last thirty-seconds?”

I gathered my silky hair and draped the long smooth tresses over one shoulder. “I’m trying something new. Don’t make fun.”

He shook his head, stupefied. “Whatever. I came here to give you something.” He took a breath as if to say something else, but he stopped. Our friendship had evolved and deepened into a mutual love for each other; a love between friends, but nonetheless sacred and forever.

I shook my hands at him. “Cal, don’t. It’s not...”

He reached into the pocket of his jeans and extracted a tangle of black leather string. Angst crossed his bronzed brow. “I want you to wear this.”

I glanced at the object resting in his open palm; a small wood carving attached to leather strands. The amulet was the size of a postage stamp.

“It’s a talisman carved from eucalyptus wood. It wards off evil spirits and will protect you.”

“Is this a white magic token?” He smiled without explanation. “Cal, it’s incredibly thoughtful of you. I love it. But I can’t take that.” I didn’t deserve to wear it at the moment, not as the darkness spread through me like the poison Romeo drank, silencing the warmth in my heart. My lips tingled. “Your mom wouldn’t like it.”

His lips twisted to the side and his expression was one of rejection. “I think she would be okay if she saw it on you.” He smiled, a hint of sadness seeped into the corners of his mouth. “Here...” He took my hand and looped the leather around so the talisman dangled delicately from my wrist. I could feel his gentle touch on my skin as he secured it. He placed his large hands on my shoulders and looked at me. “Promise you’ll be okay?”

A laugh cracked through my stress. “Promise.” Cal’s sentiment was deeply appreciated. He never failed to make me laugh, even as the temperature of my heart dropped.

He leaned in and kissed my cheek as a small tear escaped from my eyes. “You better be.” The doorbell rang again. It was too late to stop him. In one long stride, Cal turned the knob before I could move.

Alexavier stood in the doorway, glaring at Callum with disapproval and irritation. “Callum, what a surprise to find you here,” he said gruffly, sarcasm saturating his voice.

“I’m trying to take care of my girl.”

I didn’t want Cal to mess this up. I still needed one thing from Alexavier. Alexavier spoke directly to him. “Callum, I know you care about Sophie, but I can take care of her. She doesn’t need you.” He kept his voice low, but his tone was protective and threatening.

Callum stepped closer to him.

“Callum, this will not end well for you if you insist on challenging me,” Alexavier warned. His voice remained even, but his body was poised to fight if Callum insisted.

I wiped my cheek and stomped toward them. “Please, stop this. Please! I care about you both, but Callum, you need to go,” I pleaded, fearing Cal would snap. I pulled on Alexavier’s arm roughly to break the defensive eye contact he maintained with Callum.

“I’m not afraid, Mather. I also don’t need my fists to prove I’m the better man. Sophie will see that one day,” he snarled ferociously.

I flashed my eyes wide. My jaw jutted out. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This was the last thing I wanted to deal with or could deal with and I feared what I would do under the influence of my choice. “Callum... leave now!” I didn’t care about hurting anyone’s feelings at the moment. My emotions were shifting beyond that.

He pushed past Alexavier in a huff to leave. Alexavier ignored the action, focusing his attention on me. I was relieved he didn’t engage Callum in a fight. He stood before me, astoundingly handsome in a blue button down shirt. He grasped my hands and looked deeply into my eyes. “What was that all about?”

My blackening heart skipped a beat. “I’m sorry about Callum. I don’t know what got into him.”

“Jealousy, I would say. I warned you.”

“I don’t want to believe that’s it.”

His fingers gently pressed against my hand and wrist, lifting them to inspect the talisman. “Did he give you this?” A combination of regret and jealousy lined his voice.

“It’s to keep evil spirits away,” I replied as I touched the wood carving with my fingertips.

He sighed. Our future was under a black cloud from the past where Rebecca’s curse and his father’s mistakes affected us in the present. And after tonight, even if the ritual went according to plan, there was no guarantee things would be the same or better for us. I was risking my life and my soul. Even if I survived breaking the curse and the reconversion, I would be different, changed, tainted from the black magic I had already invited into my heart and it might all be for nothing.

Buy Links:
Mirror World Publishing - Amazon

Leigh Goff loves writing young adult fiction with elements of magic and romance because it's also what she liked to read. Born and raised on the East Coast, she now lives in Maryland where she enjoys the area's great history and culture.

Leigh is a graduate of the University of Maryland, University College and a member of the Maryland Writers' Association and Romance Writers of America. She is also an approved artist with the Maryland State Arts Council. Her debut novel, Disenchanted, was inspired by the Wethersfield witches of Connecticut and was released by Mirror World Publishing. Leigh is currently working on her next novel, The Witch's Ring which is set in Annapolis.

Learn more about Leigh Goff on her website and blog. Stay connected on Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, and Goodreads.