Sunday, November 29, 2020

What is Tea Leaf Reading?

Tea Leaf Reading is something that has fascinated me since I was a child and saw women around me doing this as well as seeing women in movies do this so I decided to learn about it myself and found that I am gifted in the art of scrying, whether it is tea leaf reading, crystal balls, water, or more.

Tea Leaf Reading or Tasseomancy as it is also called began in East Asia in countries such as China and India where reading tea leaves was a way to find the message or direction for the day. It then migrated to the west with the explorers. Many of them found that in the Middle East where women used coffee grounds to divine the messages. Tarot cards were also added as well.

Later it migrated to England where Tea Shops began to pop up and as you notice the diviners or readers are usually women. Once they came to the United States they settled in the main cities and then later migrated to the Appalachian Mountains where it was hidden due to the stigma and label of being a witch and the fear that goes with that.

So, it was a lost art for a while but it is coming back. I have been reading tea leaves for over a decade now and I love it. I do tea parties, Zoom parties and even a workshop like the one I am doing this Wednesday December 2 at 7:00pm Central Time. 

This class is a FREE class and you can register for it here https://YourCosmicConnections.as.me/HistoryTeaLeafReading 

One person who attends may win a Free Tea Leaf Reading from me or a copy of my Tea Leaf Reading Journal here https://amzn.to/3odu7Ul

Here is a list of a few of my journals. I hope that you take a moment to check them out.
  1. Tea Leaf Reading Journal https://amzn.to/3odu7Ul
  1. Mindfulness Journal https://amzn.to/2VemVKS
  1. Reiki Journal https://amzn.to/3fZLMfn
  1. Beginner's Tarot Journal https://amzn.to/2JqgqlE
  1. Angel Reiki https://amzn.to/36k2zX1
  1. Advanced Tarot Journal https://amzn.to/3fKzCGY

If you would to support me than please visit my Patreon at patreon.com/anewyou

#tealeafreading #tasseography #tea #tasseomancy #divination #tarotcards #witchesofinstagram #psychic #astrology #tarotreading #tealeaves #tealeafreader #tarot #witch #tealeafreadings #teacup #guidance #diviner #tealeaf #divining #fortuneteller #dowser #dowsing #magic #divinationtools #leaf #psychicreading #lovers #twinflame #bhfyp

Tuesday, November 17, 2020

Meet Your Angels Meditation

Free workshop and meditation on Meeting your Guardian Angel. 
Win a free reading or angel statue.
See picture below for details.
Register here 

Introduction to Scrying Class Tonight

This is going to be so much fun!!!

Join me tonight for the beginning of a 4 week series on iIntroduction to Scrying. The series begins at 6pm CT and is on Zoom.

We will cover what scrying is and practice with candles, mirrors, tea leafs and more.

Its $10 a class or if you pay upfront its only $35.

It will be recorded if you miss any of the classes.

To register send $35 to
Or venmo @bertena
Cash app $meditationgirl

Then text me your name and scry to 859-437-0082 or message me here on Facebook.

The Reaper Collection


The Reaper Collection
Jade Royal

Genre: Paranormal Thriller
Date of Publication: 10/29/2020
ASIN: B08KC7237Z
Word Count: about 80K
Cover Artist: V Designs

Tagline: Death will soon find you...

Book Description: 

They're coming without mercy…

The Optimist
The Child
The Scorned Woman
The Best Friend

They want revenge...

A chain of lies spoken by trusted parents, stolen possibilities from a lover, the wrongful conviction of a stranger, and betrayal by the greatest ally. Pain corrupts their minds, twists their souls, and schemes a plan for death. Their victims will face karma, delivered as retribution.

And nothing will stop them…

Excerpt 1

“Thirty,” Remi blurted.

“Thirty what? It’s going to take more than a measly thirty bucks to get you out of this, Remington.”

“Thirty seconds,” Remi pushed anxiously. She needed more time.

“Fourteen. No more. No less.”

Remi mumbled to herself. Maybe this was just a sick joke that would reveal itself after the fourteen seconds were up.

“Ready, little rabbit?” Zachary’s voice was low and threatening. Danger.

About the Author:

When the voices begin to speak, Jade Royal sits down in her lab to write the tale. The story unfolds with each keystroke as she listens to her instincts bring the words to life. For as long as she can remember, Jade has always expressed her creative nature artistically, especially by writing. She refers to herself as “Slave to the Pen” because it’s difficult for her to resist the call to write.

Jade resides in Cincinnati, Ohio where she was born and raised. She has many siblings and is very family-oriented. She spends Sunday evenings eating dinner with them keeping the bond between family nice and strong. 

As an international bestselling author, Jade hopes to pull in her readers to experience a community of stories that they can relate to on various levels. The emotional roller coaster that is bestowed will hopefully make her readers stalk her words and provide literate entertainment. 

For more information on Jade Royal, follow her on her website and social media avenues.

šŸ“šConnect with JadešŸ“š

Jade Royal Monthly Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/cyDq6j 

The Royal Court of Jade Royal: 

Sunday, November 15, 2020

Follow me on LinkTree

Help me by following or bookmarking my YouTube channel, Patreon and more

A great way to help me out for free.

Follow me and I follow back.



Daily Dose of Awesomeness

Your Daily Dose of Awesomeness Concluding our 8-week Blog series, I would like to offer you a FREE virtual subscription to my Daily Dose of Awesomeness.

Normally $10. 

You will have access to the following for Free: A List of My Journals Free PDF’s on Self Care Self-Care Articles Self-Care Activities Meditations Free Meditation Music Journal Prompts Daily Affirmations How to Access the Class:...


Saturday, November 14, 2020

This Weeks Events

Here are next weeks events.. everything from free meditation and tarot to learning yoga and how to scry.

All of these are on zoom so please message me here or text me at 859-437-0082 to register.

All times are central time.

Sunday 730pm FREE Tarot Meet Up. We have some students who need to practice their tarot card  readings so come and enjoy and see what the cards have for you

5pm Yoga for Inflexible Bodies $5.
Many people say they aren't flexible enough for yoga.. well this is the class for you. 45 minutes and very beginner.

6pm Chair Yoga $5.
Great for those that need the balance of a chair or want to learn how to do yoga at work. Great for beginners.

7pm Yoga Nidra $5
Also known as yogic sleep. Come in your pjs relax on your bed and allow me to.balance your mind, body, and soul.

Tuesday 6pm
Week 1 of the 4 week series on How to Scry.
If you can't make it then it is recorded for you. $10 a week or $35 if you pay for all 4 at once.

Each week we will learn a different scrying medium .. candles, mirrors, crystal balls and tea leafs and more. Great class for anyone who is curious.
We have 10 registered so far.

5pm Chair Yoga $5
Great for those that need the balance of a chair or want to learn how to do yoga at work. Great for beginners.

6pm Restorative Yoga $5
Great class for working the knots and kinks out while also relaxing and enjoying the peace.

7pm Meeting  Your Guardian Angel Meditation and Workshop FREE
I will be discussing guardian angels and how they interact with you and then lead you through a guided meditation to meet your guardian angel.
Then we will journal our experiences. Please bring a journal and be ready to relax.

COSMIC CONNECTIONS IS HOSTING and will be giving away a small angel sculpture to someone who attends the class. We have almost 40 registered so far.

6pm Healthy Living Support Group $5

We will be discussing how unique we each are and how to love ourselves more. We will share our weekly goals and then begin a small workout activity. We have 6 registered so far.

Remember all of these are on zoom so if you are shy simply turn off your camera and watch or join in when comfortable.

I hope to see each of you next week. Message me with any questions or to register.
Anewyouselfcare@gmail.com or at 859-437-0082 

Wednesday, November 11, 2020

The Journeys of a Different Necromancer by James J Crofoot

 My Reading of an Excerpt of The Journeys of a Different Necromancer

The Journeys of a Different Necromancer
The Locked Door Series
Book One
James J Crofoot

Genre: Young Adult Fantasy
Date of Publication: August 2, 2020
Number of pages: 100
Word Count:  20k

Book Description: 

Thomas wanted to learn to read and write things only Xavier the Necromancer could teach. But Thomas learned much more. He learned to raise the dead. Then, with his knowledge, he set out for the distant sea. 

Along the way, he made an army, encountered a dragon, and fought thieves by the score. But, could he continue to use the knowledge Xavier gave? Could he hold to his teacher's views that all people were self-centered, greedy, and jealous of him for being so much better? 

Could he return to the obsidian tower to live a life where the world was locked out, where his teacher had kept all life away to simply be left alone? Where no one ridiculed and beat him for being different? Could he return to a life where only the undead, his risen, kept him company?


“I was with Xavier,” Thomas replied. With head bowed, he stared at his stew, sensing he would not be allowed to eat.

“Who?” His mother’s voice. Her angry, high-pitched voice.

Thomas looked up at his father to see a pipe halfway to a gaping mouth. “Xavier, you know, he lives in the tower. He wants to teach me to read and write. He wants me to be his apprentice.”

His mother sat down and stared at him.

“He’s got lots of books, scores of them. He showed me a book with lots of animals in it.”

His da sat back in his chair, silent. His mum folded her hands in her lap, also silent.

“Think of it,” Thomas continued excitedly. “Think of the things I could do if I could read. I could go and work for the prince in Targon, I could see the whole kingdom.”

“Go to bed, Thomas,” Da said.

The boy gazed down at his untouched food. It smelled good and looked even better, but his father had spoken. Thomas got up and climbed the ladder to his loft. Deep into the night, even after his parents stopped their whispered arguing, he lay in bed thinking of the map Xavier had shown him of the kingdom. He would find a way. He would be…what word had Xavier used? Necromancer. He would be a necromancer and he would see the whole kingdom.

* * * *

In the morning, Thomas awoke to the smell of porridge. Having had no dinner the night before, he hurried down the ladder. There he found his da already eating. His mum ladled his share into a bowl and then got some for herself.

“We’ve decided you may learn to read and write. None of that dark stuff, though. You hear? No digging up of graves,” his da said. “We want more for your life, Thomas. Now then, what does this friend of yours want in return? We can’t afford to pay anything. I suppose he mentioned a price.”

Thomas looked at his mum as she sat down. She folded her hands in her lap and remained quiet.

“He said it would cost nothing. He just wants someone to teach. Xavier said he’s getting old and just wants someone to pass on some of ’is…” Thomas paused trying to remember the word. “…knowledge.”

Da wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Then we’ll give it a try. Only til ’arvest, though. You’ll be needed in the fields then. Anything after that and we’ll see.”

A month and a half, Thomas thought excitedly. I have a month and a half!

“No good will come of this,” his mum remarked. “Mark my words, that man never did any good for anyone.”

Thomas finished his breakfast in a gulp and got up to run from the house. He stopped just outside the door to pick up his favorite stick and heard his da say, “I want better for him, Sonya. This life is no life for my son. He’s smarter than this.”

* * * *

A month passed and Thomas studied. He studied geography; the world turned out to be a lot bigger than he imagined. He learned arithmetic, how to count to a thousand. Then moved on to reading and writing, eight to nine hours a day he went through the books and scrolls. On the second and third floors of the tower stood skeletons of various animals, there he learned science, anatomy, and biology.

The fourth floor, however, Xavier said he needed to learn a good deal more before being ready for that.

“The villagers are shunning me,” he said to Xavier one day after learning the word. “They whisper about me whenever I pass. Even my friends. Yesterday I waved to them and started walking, to tell them what I was learning, and they turned their backs and ran away.”

Xavier looked up from the book he held. “People, for the most part, are very small-minded. They shun what they do not understand or things that are different.”

“Was that the way it was with you when you first started studying to be a necromancer?”

“People always thought me to be a little different. Look, Thomas, you will see more, you will do more, than they can imagine in their empty heads. You will learn to create life from death.”

Thomas thought about these words for some time. He wanted to do more than just plant and harvest. He wanted to travel this world, especially the sea to the west, to see more than just this tiny village too small for a name. He decided he liked being different. He was already learning more than they ever would. Did not that make him better?

About the Author:

James J Crofoot started working at 11 years old and never stopped. He’s been a sailor in the U.S. Navy, worked in video tape production, made money investing in stocks, and traveled throughout the US as a truck driver and an army brat. He’s been to all four corners of the US and to the top of every major mountain range in the United States. 

Through it all, writing has been his first love, companion, and constant friend. He has so many stories to tell, he plans to spend the rest of his life writing. 

Born in Germany he currently resides in the "Great Mitten" that is Michigan. He resides with his insane family consisting of his sister, two spoiled but loving nieces, a brother in law, and two dogs.

He hopes you’ll enjoy his books while sipping tea, coffee, or cocoa on a rainy day.

Black Oak The Loveless Chronicles Chapter 1 by Titus Murphy


My Reading of an Excerpt of Black Oak

Black Oak 
The Loveless Chronicles 
Chapter 1 
Titus Murphy 

Genre: Horror, Fantasy
Publication Date: October 31, 2020
Publisher: Cosby Media Production 


In the town of Black Oak, nothing is ever what it seems. Besides the wrangling local country-types, the city is marred by a history of indiscretions, murders, and no-named civilians perpetrating as heroes. But beneath the surface of this "run of the mill," Midwestern locale lurks a pervasive past that is about to come full circle: like a blazing blood moon.

Mark is an unassuming trucker who has fallen for a beautiful clerk working at a “Mom & Pop” store named Sharon, and nothing else in the world matters more than stealing her heart. But after making a run into the Bayou to deliver a package, destiny steps in and serves him a plate of "the unexpected," which sparks the flames of wickedness that will set his hometown ablaze. And as the secrets buried in this town begin to unearth, the truth will fan those burning flames until there is nothing left but ashes and chaos.

In the end, the only mystery left to solve will be if this is isolated to one town or involve the fate of the entire world...

FOREWORD REVIEW: "...full of interesting characters who hold attention...the secrets of their home are a binding force that brings the tale together."

CLARION RATING: 4/5 "In the fantasy novel Black Oak, citizens across two ears reckon with strange creatures among them."

Exclusive Bewitching Excerpt:

“I don’t mean to sound pushy,” Beth started, “but earlier you said that I’m a Dreamer. Tell me more about what that is.”

Zack turned away from Frank, walked over to Beth, and took a seat back at the table next to her. “I’m going to give you the short version,” said Zack, “only because I need to get to the real reason for our visit.”

“Of course,” said Beth.

“So straight to the point, you are a Dreamer, as I said before,” Zack said. “That makes you part witch and part psychic but with an added benefit of being more powerful than both. The main difference between you and normal witches is that you can see into the future without using magic because your psychic side empowers you to do so naturally. And you don’t even need to train this skill. Where other witches fail, you succeed because they don’t have the natural psychic ability you do. They have to use magic to see into the future.”

Beth gawked in amazement at Zack’s words. “So how far into the future can I see?” asked Beth.

Zack shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t know. But what I do know is that the answers you seek can only be found in the grimoire. The grimoire is the most powerful spell book among witches and warlocks. Every spell from growing flowers in your garden to conjuring up lightning is recorded in that book. Every name of every witch and warlock, whether good or bad, down to every war, including the Great War of 1782 is recorded in that book. You can even find spells on how to create magical objects like amulets and talismans.”

“And even the mystical arts of performing magical charms and divination, on summoning or invoking supernatural entities, is also a part of that book,” ZoĆ« chimed.

“Do you know how many supernatural beings would love to get their hands on that book?” Zack added. 

“Where is the book now?” asked Beth.

“Long gone,” Zack said. “It was given to a very powerful witch like yourself to keep safe. She also was a dreamer, the first of your kind, and the only one until now. You are the second, my sister, in our 250 years of traveling on this earth.”

“Only the second?” said Frank. 

“Yes, only the second, and we’ve been everywhere in this world, so that should tell you something. Your wife’s kind is rare.”

 “Well, the question here for you to answer now is, who and where is the first?” asked Beth.

“Her name was Tiara. And she died along time ago,” replied Zack somberly.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Did you know her? I mean were you close with her?” asked Beth.

“Yes…very. She was the one who taught ZoĆ« and me how to use our powers,” said Zack. His eyes beat over to ZoĆ«. “She protected us during and after the Great War. If it wasn’t for her, we would’ve been dead long ago.”

“God, I miss her,” said ZoĆ«, finally speaking up.

“Well, now that you know everything there is to know, keep this in mind. Power is innocent. The one who wields it…” said Zack with a brief pause. He pointed directly at Beth. “Well, that is what taints it. He or she must decide to use it for good or evil. That choice makes a difference.”

“Just remember who you are,” said ZoĆ«, cutting in.

“I will,” said Beth.

“Good, now let’s get to the real reason why we’re here,” said Zack. “After the great battle back in 1782, Jackals and witches all went their separate ways as the town was no longer viable. The fallout of the fight was tremendous; houses were burned to the ground. Bodies were everywhere, and the land was saturated in blood and rotten flesh. The stench was unbearable. It was all a complete mess. So some witches migrated to the east while others went north. ZoĆ«, Tiara, and I headed west. After settling down for a few months, we split up again and went our separate ways. Tiara told us she was going on a journey to find someone very important and that she would be back in approximately one year.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” said Beth, “why didn’t you two go with her?”

“We wanted to, but she forbade it. She insisted that we remain behind and give aid to any stragglers that needed assistance,” said ZoĆ«.

“Yes, she did,” said Zack as he nodded in agreement. “There is not a day that goes by that I don’t live with the regret of my decision that day.”

“So what happened to Tiara?” asked Frank.

“We never saw her again,” said Zack, his voice raspy and soft. “But anyway, after 30 years away from Black Oak, we had grown very powerful, teaching ourselves the ways of mysticism and sorcery. And then one day in the fall of 1812, ZoĆ« and I felt something: a surge of power we’d not yet experienced before. Not since the Great War. It was all in the air, calling out to us. So we packed our things and followed the surge to its source until it led us back here to our original home of Black Oak.” Zack took a moment to smile as ZoĆ« placed a gentle hand over his. “I could see the town in the distance and, as ZoĆ« and I approached, we started preparing ourselves for a fight because we didn’t know who or what was living there. But the closer we got, our minds began to calm. The visions before us were heartwarming. People were everywhere. Families and friends were bustling about. The town was good as new. It was like nothing ever happened and the magic we felt there was good and pure and untouched by evil.”

“You could sense it,” said ZoĆ«.

“And now it’s happening again, but only this time, the magic feels different. It’s evil for sure, I know it,” said Zack.

“How can you tell?” asked Beth.

“Answer one question for me,” said Zack, staring intently at Beth.

“Okay,” she replied.

“What did you sense from my sister and me when you first opened your door?” asked Zack.

“Good. I felt good in both of you,” said Beth. “Nothing bad…not even a little bit.”

“And I too felt the same thing when I saw you. And I’m not talking only about tonight,” said Zack. “But what I feel in this town now is wicked. Mark my words. Something is coming. What’s more, is that something is already here. And that should be impossible. Do you know why?” asked Zack as he stared at both Frank and Beth for an answer. 

They were both speechless, but Beth took a stab at it anyway. “There’s some special magic protecting us?”

“Yes. A force field—placed over this town hundreds of years ago by the witches, that was supposed to stop dangerous beasts or any other supernatural creatures from passing through,” said ZoĆ«. 

“But I’m afraid the force field failed against whatever forced its way in. Now ZoĆ« and I need to find out who or what it is before someone gets hurt or maybe worse…killed.”

“Killed?” Beth inquired.

“Yes. On the way over here, we came across a sea of dead bodies in the woods. Most likely campers who were mauled to death, and it looked like the work of Riffs,” said ZoĆ« nonchalantly.

About the Author:

Titus Murphy was born and raised on the streets of New Orleans, Louisiana.  From a small child, there was an overarching desire for Titus to do one thing: win. His drive and determination drove him to succeed. Armed with a strong mind, a quick wit, and a sharp tongue, he set out to emblaze his mark on everyone he would encounter. Unknown to him were the overwhelming obstacles and seemingly insurmountable tragedy he would have to endure. From this devastation came a resolve fueled by an uncompromising commitment that resonates through every aspect of his life. Forced from the city he knew and loved, Titus relocated to Atlanta, Georgia. It was there his desire and commitment came together resolutely to birth a dream that had long been held in his heart. Oblivious to detraction, and beyond all doubt, Titus would become an author. From the streets of New Orleans that marked his life, to the ink-graced pages upon which he now pours his soul, Titus Murphy has come to show the world that he is truly…something more. 

Monday, November 9, 2020

Soul Seeker by Kaylin McFarren


                             My Reading of an Excerpt of Soul Seeker

Soul Seeker
Kaylin McFarren

Genre: Supernatural Thriller
Publisher: Creative Edge Publishing
Date of Publication:  Oct 27, 2020
ISBN: 9798665284903
Number of pages:308
Cover Artist: Amanda Yoshida

Book Description:

The battle between good and evil resides with...

While awaiting his execution for murdering his son, Benjamin Poe confesses to his lawyer the true story behind his crime, a harrowing tale of a manipulating, soul-collecting demon named Crighton.

Following Poe's death, Crighton continues his malevolent duties, until he's kidnapped by members of The Sovereign Sector. This group of scientists, notorious for experimenting on supernatural creatures, forces Crighton into a soulmate relationship with the very angel he was sent to capture for Lucifer.

However, with secrets revealed and loyalties shifting, Crighton soon becomes the target of Lucifer's revenge, and his journey to redemption and freedom–or eternal enslavement–begins. 


Friday, November 6, 2020

Secret Spirit Guardians of Santa Fe C.A. Masterson

 My Reading of the Excerpt for Secret Spirit Guardians.

Secret Spirit Guardians of Santa Fe
C.A. Masterson  

Genre:  Fantasy
Publisher: Wild Rose Press
Date of Publication:  October 5, 2020
ISBN:  978-1-5092-3351-9 Paperback
ISBN: 978-1-5092-3352-6 Digital
Number of pages:  330
Word Count:  82,600
Cover Artist:  Debbie Taylor

Tagline:  Most families have quirks, but not like Marissa’s.

Book Description:

After Marissa Tahy returns home to Santa Fe, she is haunted by visions and glimpses of danger no one else sees: the spirit of Old Man Gloom in his true form. 

For a hundred years, people have burned their troubles in the spirit’s effigy at the Zozobra festival, each year making the spirit angrier and more powerful.  This year, Old Man Gloom demands his due. The vengeful spirit targets those Marissa loves. 

Even when Marissa discovers the secret history binding her family to Zozobra, joining their forces may not be enough to prevent the furious spirit from burying Santa Fe beneath an avalanche of misery.

Book Trailer:  https://youtu.be/j3HVxC6azcQ 

Amazon     BN

Thursday, November 5, 2020

The Fifth Horseman The Horseman’s Harem Saga Book One by Freida Kilmari

 My Reading of the Excerpt of The Fifth Horseman 


The Fifth Horseman
The Horseman’s Harem Saga 
Book One
Freida Kilmari

Genre: Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance
Publisher: Kilmari Publishing
Date of Publication: October 31st 2020
ISBN: 978-1-9993472-3-9
Number of pages: 458
Word Count: 120,000 words

Cover Artist: Covered Creatively

Tagline: No name. No past. One giant future?

Book Description: 

The only thing worse than suddenly waking up in a magical house with the insanely gorgeous Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse? Being the Fifth.

With no memory of who I am, where I came from, or what I’m doing here, I’m thrust into a new life with four people who I might want more from than just friendship. But with no past, how can I possibly plan for a future?

The only clue as to who I am? Four different species' magic resides within me—Vampire, Fae, Shifter, and Witch—and between them, I might be the most powerful creature on the planet.

For fuck's sake.

Look out world, Horseman of Magic coming through!

            Excerpt 1

He’s tied his shoulder-length white hair up into a knot out of the way, and I get a clear look at his not-frowning face for the first time. It’s aged with years of trouble. I can tell from the frown lines and shadows beneath his eyes, but his face also speaks of an experience the others don’t seem to grasp so heavily. Something about this man draws me in, something dark and twisted. I want to understand his pain, to revel in that darkness with him, to understand what kind of horrors this man can inflict.

About the Author:

Freida Kilmari is an author, writer, and editor residing in south-west England, who loves all things fiction. She has a passion for fantasy, romance, science-fiction, and poetry that runs her life, from her career to her passions. 

Monday, November 2, 2020

The Curse of the Mountain by Tyler Cram

 My Reading of the Excerpt of The Curse of the Mountain

The Curse of the Mountain
Tyler Cram

Genre: Horror
Publisher: Darkstroke books
Date of Publication: October 27, 2020
Number of pages:236
Word Count: 76K
Cover Artist: Laurence Patterson

Tagline: Death stalks a town. An ancient evil. A long-buried secret.

Book Description:

A young officer responding to a call in the middle of the night about chickens being slaughtered turns into a night of reckoning when a deadly creature emerges from the woods. 

Years later, while on a hike in the North Carolina wilderness, four friends discover an old book. When they open it, they black out – only to find on waking that they have released the evil things that live within the pages. 

As they fight to keep their neighbors from dying, they unravel a dark secret that the leaders of their town have held since their ancestors first settled. 

But can the boys really stop the devil?


Roanville’s entire existence was archaic. Nothing was truly that modern there. The town was built on small businesses, a community full of people betting on themselves and their local companions. It was a logging community in the 1800s, it wasn’t a sweet place to live; it only existed to make a living. Slowly it crept its way up through time and modernity to be sustainable for all family types, but it still had trouble catching up. The locals joked that the slogan for their lonesome town should have been ‘The town that time forgot’. There were still pay phones in the city that were frequently used. The police and fire department shared a building because the cost of running both in separate buildings would’ve crippled the town. There were only four cops on the force, the Chief, Frank Gilmore alongside his deputies: Bradley Fine, a lazy native who was ready to retire at the age of forty. Garrett Brock, a stable and smart man around the same age as Brad. Brock was Frank’s right-hand man because of his dedication to the job. He served papers, and wasn’t afraid to give people he knew speeding tickets. The most important thing to Brock was that he needed to get paid. The police force worked off a ticket quota system. Brock held no prisoners. The newest addition to the team was Sarah Mann.

A few years ago, Sarah got a call from the outskirts of town. The trailer park, ‘Disneyland’, as it was called by the denizens, was the source of drugs in Roanville. It was constantly surveyed by the cops.

The caller said someone had been killing the chickens that the Quinn family owned, butchering them once a month since the beginning of the year. Sullivan Quinn didn’t even entertain the thought of someone else doing it. He knew it was his neighbor Ichabod Turner. Ichabod had a loose grasp on the English language. He was seventy-five and was skin and bone, Sarah thought he looked like a skeleton from a Halloween store. He had a yellow-stained beard and long grey frizzy hair. His eyes were sunken and his face was drawn.

He spoke as if there was a marble on his tongue. “Da… Sully… he, uh, he say it wah me ’cus I ain’t never wen to he granpappy fun’ral back een March. I say to Sully ‘daggom, boy, da’worl don’t stop for nobody granpappy, not even yours’ well… he don’t like dat much so he been plannin’ a war and dat boy, daggom, he try’na get me arrested… sheeeeit,” he explained to Officer Sarah Mann when she went down to mediate the situation.

It was night when she talked to them. She got called down because one of Sullivan’s chickens was shrieking, and when he went to go look on the side of his double-wide trailer where his coop was, its innards had been tossed around like dripping scarlet streamers. The fresh red blood hadn’t yet permeated the loose dirt.

He looked over across the street and saw the light inside Ichabod’s house flick off suddenly. Sullivan began to bang on the door, threatened to grab his .44 and shoot his way in. Ichabod called the Sheriff’s office. When Sarah arrived, Sully was pacing in front of Ichabod’s trailer with a revolver in his hand, Sarah jumped out of her patrol vehicle and yelled, “Put the goddamn gun down, Sullivan!”

“He killed my chickens! Every month, massacred! He did it, Sarah!” He was Standing in baggy jean shorts and a stained white tank top, pointing his gun at the house. Sullivan was a tall, skinny guy who had trouble with pills. He worked the lumberyard and a log fell off a pile and broke his leg, snapped like a twig, the bone protruded from his skin and was shattered in multiple places, nearly having to get it amputated. He got hooked on painkillers shortly thereafter. He was thirty, but the labor and drugs aged him. He used to be a hirsute young man, always kept his thick, golden hair shoulder length, and stayed clean shaven. Now he was nearly bald save for some patches, and had a scuzzy, holey black beard, speckled with blond and red strands that were so long off his chin he looked like a goat.

“Drop the gun, Sullivan, or I will be forced to pull mine out as well,” she yelled, her words weaved through the alleys between the trailers. She had her hand fixed on her Glock 17 attached to her hip.

Sullivan dropped the gun to his side. “Just get him out here so you can arrest him,” He said condescendingly.

Sarah walked to Ichabod’s front door, her eyes never leaving Sullivan. She was born and raised in Raleigh and ended up going to North Carolina State University. She had no extracurricular activities, no significant other. The idea of being a police officer took all of her time and thought. Frank found her by chance when he visited the Raleigh NCSU campus to meet with a friend that happened to be her Professor. She was in his office when Frank came in. He offered her a job by the end of the conversation. She was twenty-two years old, even in a small town she was making sixty thousand a year. Many scholarships through the state for women in policing gave her some extra bumps. Now she had been with the Chief for about four years and was sick of all the hick bullshit she had to deal with. A feud over killing chickens? What happened to my life? Now she was a cantankerous, young cop in a trailer park.

She banged on Ichabod’s door, the way only a cop can. He swung it open immediately. She led him into the middle of the trailer park’s road underneath a yellow-orange mercury streetlight. There was one every fifty feet, and in between each post was pitch darkness. As soon as someone would step out of the ten-foot diameter light beam, they would be completely gone.

Sarah asked, “Sullivan, what makes you think Ichabod did this?” She started writing in her notebook.

“He has had a vendetta against my family for some time now, Sarah. He didn’t go to my grandfather’s funeral a few months back and they were best friends,” he said politely, with a southern drawl.

“Now das just boolshit… Aaron hated my guts, boy, he tol me a few week back ‘fore he died dat he hated me for my, uh, demeanor or some shit. Dat I was jus too nasty and he didn’t wan to be seen wit me. But let me tell you bof dat he was nastier den a hooker lickin’ a frog to find her prince charmin’ ’cause he sexed he goddamn cousin… I caught him, too, in the back of his old pick-up back by route one-one-six, where da, uh, post office is. Dats why he hate me, boy.”

Sarah tried to understand what he was saying. She had never heard him uppity the few times she interacted with him. She stopped writing down what he was saying halfway through his aside.

“Don’t you fuckin’ slander my dead grandfather, you dirty shit,” Sullivan gritted through his words.

“Hey, Shut it, both of you,” Sarah said, looking up from her notebook, then back down again to write.

“How would I slaughter dem chickies, boy? I look like a serial killer to you?” Ichabod said, pulling on the length of his tarnished beard.

“Yeah, you really do. The guts were thrown out of them, Officer, and I think this man is sick enough to do it. I saw him standing and pissing off of Arthur Scott’s truck going seventy miles an hour on the highway coming into town,” Sullivan said, thinking that would be the final blow. She didn’t even look up and mumbled, “I expect nothing less from this town.”

“It’s a damn dog doin dis shit, I’m tellin’ ya’s. Couple miles down da road, that farmer, uh, I forget his name, two of his sheep, dead. I know it some damn big dog or wolf, you can quote me on dat one, lady,” Ichabod said.

“Officer,” she retorted, looking at him with fire in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Officer, but dis mother fucking boy, he—what the fuck?” He squinted past Sarah, three streetlights down the road—an animal.

“What the fuck is that thing?” Sullivan said.

Sarah turned, and her throat dried immediately when she saw it. It didn’t move. She pulled her pistol out of her holster with some difficulty, she never had to pull it before. She had never seen a dog this big. Even from this distance she could see every detail of it. On all fours, it was five feet tall with paws the size of baseball gloves. Its fur was long, dark brown. Sarah could tell that the head was over a foot long, its prodigiously large vulpine teeth hung out of its mouth, glittering by the dingy light. The streetlight gleamed in the beast’s eyes. It stared at her. Her breathing started to sputter, she couldn’t control it. She shook with her gun in her hand as she raised it. A tear built up in her eye. She felt a wave of cold throughout her body as gooseflesh raised on her skin.

The beast stood on its hind legs, the light painted onto the creature and revealing its oversized dog-like body. Ichabod and Sullivan both screamed and ran into their houses.

Full stretch, it stood at nine feet tall. Sarah didn’t move. She stood there waiting for it to start coming towards her, the moon was going to reach its apogee in the sky and that’s when their duel began.


About the Author:

Tyler is a horror aficionado. He has been obsessed with the genre since he was too young to be watching it. It started with An American Werewolf in Paris—the awful 90’s sequel to the original—and snowballed ever since. His influences stem from Stephen King, Joe Hill, Shirley Jackson, Algernon Blackwood, and countless others. He studied them almost academically, peering into their minds psychologically, pulling back the curtains to see what drove them to creating their stories. 

The answer is reality. Tyler loves the idea that all great horror writers use the real world to concoct monsters. At certain points, you don’t know whether it’s the real ones or the fake ones that are scarier. He decided he wanted to open that box for himself, create something that no one has read.

That’s when the ideas start.

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