Emily's journey began two years ago when she became a modern Celtic Priestess. Armed with a magic dagger and the powerful golden torc, she was entrusted with sacred magic and ancient wisdom.
But even a Priestess can know desire, feel temptation, and yearn for love. Will passion entice Emily to use the sacred magic in a forbidden way? Can new love take root in a world of nightmares? And will her friendships survive Emily’s Trial?
The Journey Continues . . .
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About the author:
Natalie enjoys travel, good wine, and excellent food shared with family and friends. She was raised an Ohio farm girl, now lives in the desert Southwest, and dreams of living in a high rise in a big city.
Emily's House (Akasha Chronicles, #1)
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From Chapter 1:
The Apocalypse didn't start with four horsemen, harbingers of the horror to come. It didn't start with a plague, or pestilence, or even zombies rising from the dead.
It came slowly, and without warning. It crept up on people in the shadows, no more than a vague darkness that spread like an unseen cancer.
And it wasn't set into action by a divine hand. A teenage girl was the catalyst for the End Times.
I should know. I'm the one that started it.
I didn't plan to. I didn't want to start the End Times, and I'm not evil.
Madame Wong taught me to tell the truth, and so here it is. I'm the one responsible for the Apocalypse. And this is the story of how I unwittingly unlocked the door to the darkness; of how a Priestess of the Order of Brighid, entrusted with powerful magic that was supposed to be used for the benefit of all humankind, unleashed a force that would destroy it instead.
And it all began with desire.
Also from Ch. 1:
It had all started with desire, and Owen Breen was the well of desire from which I wanted to drink.
I'd sneak looks at him every chance I got. I felt pulled in by his dark, chocolate eyes. I wanted to dive into those eyes.
What would happen if our hemispheres meet? What would it be like to kiss his full lips?
Someone was yelling my name.
"Em. Earth to Em!"
It was Fanny.
"You're hoarding the salt. Pass it over." She said it extremely slowly, as if she was talking to a small child.
"Oh. Sure." The clear shaker lifted in the air and floated across the table to Fanny.
"You can use your hands you know," Jake said.
"I can, it's just more fun to do it with my mind." He rolled his eyes at me.
"Where were you?" asked Fanny.
If you only knew!