In celebration of the release of Ancient Spirits, Book 3 of The Cotton Family Series, here is another excerpt worthy of goosebumps…
“Lucy.” A cold voice whispered in my right ear. He was standing right behind me. Had he been there the entire time? Had he watched me undress? Bathe? I was exposed. Vulnerable. Defeated. That old cliché of your life flashing before your eyes? Well, it’s true. My first flashback was of my mother bathing me as a toddler. Then Nan and Pop pushing me on the swing. Andy hanging from the tree. Graduating from college. Returning to Weatherly. Mom’s funeral. My first kiss with Maddox. Vieve at my front door step. No. I couldn’t let this happen. I wasn’t going down without one last fight.
I swallowed hard and tried to un-Velcro my tongue from the top of my mouth. It was pasted to my palate. I willed my fingers to move, testing whether I had control over my muscles. My pinky finger lifted from the lip of the tub. Just barely. Then my ring finger. Then my thumb.
As I struggled to move, the sticky maroon liquid continued to flow down the vanity mirror. First in little streams, then in torrents. I gasped. There was a pressure on my chest like a corpse was sitting on top of me. Holding me down. Keeping me dead in place.
“Yes. This is your place. Right here. Under my control. Just give in, Lucy. You know you can’t beat me.” He hissed seductively into my other ear. An icy hand grazed my collar bone, over my chest, squeezed my breast. I was fighting with every ounce, but I still couldn’t muster up enough strength to move a whole arm or leg. I still struggled to unglue my tongue enough to scream.
“Lucy. You and I could do so much together. Think of it,” invisible fingertips, or maybe teeth, pinched my nipple. Fiery vomit burnt the back of my throat. “The two most powerful Cotton witches. The two strongest in the entire world. I ask only for your cooperation, Sweetest One.”
The saliva puddled in my mouth, thick and suffocating. I wiggled my fingertips again, lifted my toes, and told myself if I could move my hands and feet, that I could break free from whatever spell he was using on me. I gulped and leaned my head back to open my throat passage. With one last gust of air, I pushed out a scream. It came out a shrill shriek, but it came out, nonetheless.
“You’re SICK, ELIAS!”
His hand moved from my breast and tightened around my neck. Any time I’d move a centimeter, he would pinch down ever-so-slightly.
“Then cure me, Lucy.”
To find out what happens in Ancient Spirits, Book 3 of the Cotton Family Series, click here.