Contents
Other works by Debra Kristi:
Dedication
Quote
Gifted Girls Series
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
From The Author
Meet The Author
Acknowledgments
Bewitching Belle (The Gifted Girl Series, Book Two)
Copyright © 2020 by Debra Kristi
All rights reserved. Published by Ghost Girl Publishing, LLC. www.GhostGirlPublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2020900967
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-942191-29-2 / eBook ISBN: 978-1-942191-28-5
Cover design by Fantasy Book Design
Professional editing by Eden Plantz
Bewitching Belle, 1st ed.
Visit the author: http://www.debrakristi.com/
Created with Vellum
Other works by Debra Kristi:
THE BALANCE BRINGER CHRONICLES
Becoming: The Balance Bringer
Awakening: The Balance Bringer
Empowering: The Balance Bringer
The First Balance Bringer
MOORIGAD DRAGON COLLECTION
Moorigad
CURSED ANGEL COLLECTION
Blood Promise: Watchtower 7
THE GIFTED GIRL SERIES
Magical Miri: Gifted Girls Book One
Bewitching Belle: Gifted Girls Book Two
Nowhere Nara: Gifted Girls Book Three
Clever Chloe: Gifted Girls Book Four
Fatal Freya: Gifted Girls Book Five
For Alana and Ryelee, and their ever bright futures
.
“Failure is unimportant. It takes courage to make a fool of yourself.”
— Charlie Chaplin
This series was inspired by my crazy life and/or the wonderful, magickal influences upon my life (friends and family). I suspect there’s something in each individual story that needs to be read, or I wouldn't have been pushed to write them the way that I have. I hope you enjoy the adventure!
I invite you to visit The Gifted Girls Series on Facebook, where they share witchy humor, spell tips, and more.
https://www.facebook.com/GiftedGirlsBookSeries/
Introduction
By Belle
It’s the start of 1997, and square pizza is a thing. So are body and face glitter, fuzzy keychains, troll pencil toppers, and butterfly hair clips. Cell phones no longer look like bricks, but I have yet to get one. Mom says my personal pager will suffice. I told her, the day will come when pay phones will be difficult to find. She doesn’t believe me, but give it time; she’ll see.
I want to rock the “Rachel” hairstyle like Tyra Banks, but no matter what I do, my hair tends to resemble an untamed Diana-Ross do. So… I decided to stop fighting the inevitable, and I now own the look. When it comes to fashion, I’m generally not at the front edge of the trends, but I do enjoy my chunky hush puppies. They are rather comfy.
My current favorite television shows are now Sabrina the Teenage Witch, and 3rd Rock from the Sun. Both are fun and rather magical. Last year hosted one of the best movies with Will Smith in Independence Day. I have high hopes for him in his upcoming flick, Men in Black.
Globally, there are a few things worthy of note. Prince Charles and Princess Diana are getting a divorce. Clinton has been re-elected as president. OJ Simpson is on trial again. This time in civil court. NASA launched the Mars Pathfinder, intended for the planet for which it is named. Some sort of mad cow disease has England scrambling. And scientists claim to have cloned their first sheep. Personally, I’m not so sure that last one is a good thing.
Good or bad, this is definitely going to be a year for the history books.
Chapter One
Spices and herbs swirl through the air, around my head, and slam into the paper. The tangy scent of pepper tickles my nose, and sentences magickly scribble across the once blank page.
“Did I just catch you cheating on your homework?” Mom limps into the room and makes a beeline for the coffeemaker, her cane thumping against the linoleum floor.
“Um, no?” Open herb jars set upon the kitchen wall shelves rattle and wiggle, settling into place, and any remaining spices drop into the containers. I shove my homework paper into my open science book and slam it shut. “Is it really cheating if the magick pulled the information from my own subconscious?”
“Is that what was happening?” Mom asks.
Since we moved from the French Quarter to Algiers two years ago, I’ve been allowed to explore my kitchen magick and grow my own witch’s garden without complaint from Mom. I’m not sure if my magickal exploration freedom is because of her guilt, her depression, or a change in attitude spurred by all that happened to force the move. Prior to Algiers, we lived with Mom’s boyfriend, Caleb, until he tried to kill us. Trapped us in the house and set it ablaze. His goal was to burn us alive. Evil. The place, his place, was destroyed, and the man, arrested. Made quite the headline, but he didn’t get us. Oh no. We overcame.
“Yes,” I say, insisting the answers written are my own and not given freely of the universe.
Mom pushes the button on the coffee machine, setting it to brew. A chorus of hisses and plops rolls into action, and she turns to face me. “Why wasn’t your work completed over the weekend?”
“You know why,” I blurt. “I was busy helping the school finish their float entry.”
“Mardi Gras?” Mom leans her cane against the counter and pulls a coffee cup from the cabinet.
“Duh.”
“You don’t need to be so rude.”
“Sorry,” I say, lowering my head.
On the table, beside my science book, lies a fancy five-by-eight wedding invitation. My sister’s wedding invitation. A lifetime commitment, spending the rest of your days with one person, the same one person. It’s a forever sentence. One I doubt I’ll ever be able to make.
I tap the edge of the card with my fingernail and send
