Sorceress Rising

By Evan Martin

From first time mystery/horror author, Evan Michael Martin!

Wiccan Clio Boru faces an ancient evil that has haunted her family for generations.

Clio Boru is a Wiccan in the small community of Lake Melts, Wisconsin. In the early 1920s her Great Great Grandmother was killed by something evil in the Pine Barrens just outside of this quiet community. After a recent horrifying murder, Clio realizes that what killed her Great Great Grandmother has returned to terrorize this peaceful town. As Clio develops her Wiccan powers, she, along with the help of Deputy John Slocum and Deputy Karl Grabinski—and a visitor in town, crypto-zoologist, Roger Marquette—must work together to stop this mysterious and ancient creature prowling the countryside.

But will they find the creature before someone else in Clio’s close-knit community dies? And will the strength of her faith be with Clio when she comes face-to-face with the creature who may have killed her Grandmother?

This is the story of a Wiccan fighting to stop a mysterious creature who is terrorizing her small Wisconsin community. With the help of local police and a visiting crypto-zoologist she will face evil to stop the creature prowling the countryside from murdering again.

Sorceress Rising is the first novel by promising new mystery/horror author, Evan Michael Martin.

Evan Michael Martin began looking into the supernatural first hand while an exchange student in Europe. Long a fan of historical legends of the dark he traveled extensively in the Carpathians to observe the old traditions and see where these legends originated. In Great Britain and especially Ireland, he had wonderful experiences learning about ancient legends, Druidism and other practices. Camping in the Moors waiting to hear the scream of the Banshee, spending the night at Ruthin Castle Southwest of Liverpool to see the Grey Lady and searching for Ghosts at Malahide Castle north of Dublin.

He lives in Lake Melts, Wisconsin with his wife Deirdre and their two children Adan and Aidan. When not writing he is exploring the small communities of the upper Midwest with his two Bouvier Des Flanders, Max and Cash.

Scroll up to buy Sorceress Rising now to experience this horror story of a paranormal being terrorizing a Wisconsin community and the Wiccan who tries to fight to stop it.

If you read Stephen King's Cycle of the Werewolf or The Wolfen by Whitley Streiber, you may enjoy Sorceress Rising by Evan Michael Martin!

To learn more about Evan Michael Martin's exciting new series The Clio Boru Series, visit his website.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evan Martin
• Release date: Oct 7, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311494320

Evan Martin

Evan Michael Martin began looking into the supernatural first hand while an exchange student in Europe. Long a fan of historical legends of the dark, he traveled extensively in the Carpathians to observe the old traditions and see where these legends originated. In Great Britain and especially Ireland, he had wonderful experiences learning about ancient legends, Druidism and other practices. Camping in the Moors waiting to hear the scream of the Banshee, spending the night at Ruthin Castle Southwest of Liverpool to see the Grey Lady and searching for Ghosts at Malahide Castle north of Dublin. He lives in Lake Melts, Wisconsin with his wife Dierdre and their two children, Adan and Aidan. When not writing Evan is exploring the small communities of the upper Midwest with his two Bouvier Des Flanders, Max and Cash.

Book preview

Prologue

Les Hubacs, France—1664

The sun was beginning its descent behind the thick forest bordering the field. Jeanne Boulet watched her flock of sheep from the crest of a small hill. It was time to drive her flock home where Momma and Poppa would be waiting for her.

Jeanne had spent the long, warm day in the meadow with her family’s small flock. The ewes and their lambs stayed close to the center of the field. The lambs playfully running and hopping under the wary and watchful eyes of their mothers. The rams, more independent and seemingly aloof, walked around the edges of the field as if guarding against predators.

Jeanne wished she still had her dog, but the family could not yet afford to get a new one. She looked forward to the day she could again have a dog. She would then have someone to keep her company as well as help with the flock.

Jeanne looked across the rolling meadow and the forest bordering it. This was always a place of beauty to her, but tonight something was not right. She had this feeling that someone or something else was there, that she was being watched. So, in many ways, she was glad the day was ending and it was time to take the flock home.

The walk back to the farmhouse would still take her until after dark, but she was excited about getting home. Momma always had something good to eat waiting for her, and after a day here in the meadow with cheese and bread, she was hungry.

Getting up, Jeanne looked around and took a deep breath. Taking her shepherd’s crook in hand, she walked over and stood near one of the young lambs born that spring. She began to lean over to pick it up in order to attract its mother and the other ewes. The young lamb’s eyes got wide as it cowered away from Jeanne.

A dark shape suddenly crashed into Jeanne.

Next, she felt a sharp, searing pain shoot through her body, and then all was black.

Chapter 1

Cliodhan Boru had just come back from a long meditation on the Ledge. Small red freckles accented her otherwise pale complexion, giving her the stereotypical appearance of an Irish country lass. The time had been good for her and she had been able to reconnect and ground in a deeper way than usual. Now, she’d feed her dogs and take a long soak in the tub. Tomorrow would be soon enough to start on the new inventory for her store.

But the petite red-haired woman and her two Irish Wolf Hounds suddenly stopped what they were doing with looks of curiosity, confusion and alarm.

******

Deputy John Slocum drove his patrol car slowly down the winding, hilly blacktop road. It was late in the evening in his little town of Lake Melts, Wisconsin, and the few businesses out this way should be closed. He wanted to make certain that kids or drunks from The Sugar Bowl Sports Bar and Dance Barn weren’t sleeping one off, or doing something else, in the parking lots.

John enjoyed the night shift and had for his seven years on the force as a Sheriff’s Deputy. But little ever happened here, other than the usual complaints from the townsfolk about noise or traffic. And boring was fine with him.

John had turned forty the previous month, and still had most of his reddish brown hair, though now it held a slight hint of grey. He stood right at six feet tall, and as his on-line dating profile had once read, had a few extra pounds.

Most people in Lake Melts would probably say he was average. He’d been divorced for over six years and was finally getting used to the fact so he could at last enjoy the solitude that came from being single again. Privately, he would confess that he missed the company of a lady in his life. John wasn’t looking, his work pretty much kept that from happening, but he remained open to the idea. Who knew what would happen in small town Lake Melts?

Focusing on the road ahead, he turned off Highway 24 and started on the winding County J spur heading toward the prison. As he drove past St Anne’s Catholic School, he chuckled at the idea of St Anne’s nunnery and the retirement home for aged sisters of the order all on the same acreage, only divided by the road itself. He thought of the irony of the County J occupants especially interesting. A church, a school, a nunnery, and a women’s prison, all on one two mile stretch of the road—hilarious.

The route was a pleasant tree-lined winding county road, and as he passed the school he saw older homes that had been there seemingly forever. A small creek ran under the road, the bridge barely noticeable. The road, just below a ledge, allowed a view west toward the lights of Lake Melts. The only light on the road came from his headlights and the prison.

As he approached a sharp left turn, the lights and border fences of the women’s prison came into view. As usual, nothing exciting there. Escapes were rare. He continued his uneventful drive.

Advancing down the road toward the sharp right turn that bordered the Pine Barrens and the prison entrance, John was enjoying the peace of the late hour. It was pure darkness now and he switched his lights to hi-beams to better scan the area. Being a rural area, John knew that at any time an animal could dart into the road in front of him. The last thing he needed was to hit a deer, coyote or something worse…like a skunk.

Two red dots in the distance, eyes he realized, startled him.

Must be a deer.

No, deer eyes shine white, he corrected, murmuring to himself.

He continued to access the situation, but realized quickly it was advancing toward him.

"What the hell is that?" John cried out loud to the empty cruiser, expecting no reply. He stopped his car and stared into the darkness with its tunnel of brightness from his headlights showing the way.

There, right where the dark began again the two eyes glowed red.

The eyes seemed to rise in the foreground, his headlights catching a shape; a large shaggy shape. But as suddenly as it had appeared, it was gone.

John knew that he’d have to report this. Of course he’d be teased about it but it could be something odd. He was light-hearted about most things, but this was something very serious to him. If what he saw was dangerous, in some way the town’s people could be in danger. Of course, the Sheriff would then have him out here searching in the middle of the night.

John had a strong sense of right and wrong. That was partly what lead him onto the Army, and then on to police work. He believed in protecting people. He believed the weakest among the people needed the most protection. A bit old-fashioned in some things, but John was in many ways a true reflection of small town Wisconsin values. Work hard, play hard, laugh out loud and always enjoy the outdoors.

Though, at the moment, not knowing what that might be that had been staring back at him, he decided it might be better to talk it over with his friend Karl over breakfast. Maybe Karl could help him figure it out. John had an uneasy feeling about all of this…

Chapter 2

Many things remain mysteries in our world. Some of science, some of nature, some unexplainably of both. Roger Marquette knew this. It was the reason why he had chosen the path of finding the truth, no matter how hard the path was to get to the truth.

Wisconsin was no stranger to the unexplained mysteries that Roger sought. The Hodag of North Central Wisconsin, a beast of folklore consisting of, as the newspapers once reported, the head of a frog, the grinning face of a giant elephant, thick short legs set off by huge claws, the back of a dinosaur, and a long tail with spears at the end is one such legend. Another, more macabre, and to some more sinister but not Roger, existed elsewhere in Wisconsin.

Near Elkhorn Wisconsin, east of Interstate 43 and north of State Highway 12 is Bray Road. It is here another legend, the Beast of Bray Road, has existed for many decades. The beast is described by some as bear, by most others as a werewolf. Roger had no doubt, that to its victims it had seemed like both.

Erika Klause was a reporter for the Elkhorn Press Gazette. She had written a number of stories on the Beast of Bray Road. In the beginning, Erika did not believe at all in the beast. Through her interviews and seeing the sincerity of those who claimed to have seen it, she became a believer. She eventually published what she learned in her book, Werewolves of Wisconsin—fact or fiction.

Roger had stumbled upon Erika’s book at a hotel in New York, figuring the previous guest of the room had forgotten it. Instead of turning the book in to the hotel, he had taken it as a sign for him to investigate the truth. Since he was visiting his ex-wife in order to pick up a few of the last belongings he had in their home, he was happy to cut his visit short and explore what he discovered in Erika’s book.

This diversion to Wisconsin was exactly what he needed, to search out this new information. As a paranormal investigator, people didn’t always understand what he did, or why. His ex-wife was one of those people. But his ex-wife’s opinion was no longer important to Roger. All of the descriptions and stories of the beast were the same. It was described as looking like a wolf and that it ran upright like a human. Most often it had been seen on or near Bray Road, stealing farm animals—mostly chickens, goats and sheep. It had also been observed eating dead animals alongside the road. In general, it scared the devil out of those who crossed paths with it.

Roger expected the local police department was at a total loss in understanding of what, or who, was at the root of this problem.

But being there himself at the moment, nothing seemed out of the ordinary on Bray Road. There were no odd footprints, or any signs of mysterious occurrences.

And Roger’s drive to the small Wisconsin town had been pleasant and uneventful. As he drove into Elkhorn the quaint historical façades of the buildings on Main Street made him think of days past. It was evident that Elkhorn was also in touch with its history. The broad streets downtown gave the reminder to idyllic days gone by, of quaint small towns clustered around a small central square. It hardly seemed like the kind of place one would expect werewolves to be roaming the countryside.

Although the stories seemed like the kind of thing found in the National Enquirer, they were consistent and regular enough to be of interest to him. The owners at the Bed & Breakfast where he had checked in that morning had mentioned a certain number of people, good honest working folk that had seen something unusual. Something scary. Something large, covered in fur, and hungry for flesh.

In his research for the beast, the logical place to start was the county Animal Control Officer. Roger hoped he would get as nice a welcome from him as he had at the Bed & Breakfast.

Having seen enough on Bray Road, or maybe it was the lack thereof of werewolves, Roger made the short drive to the Animal Control office located downtown and walked inside.

Introducing himself to the Animal Control Officer, Roger started out with a simple, yet direct question, I don’t suppose you have any information regarding werewolf sightings here in the county, do you?

Apparently, it turned out, that the County Animal Control Officer had indeed a file box marked Werewolf Sightings, filled with index cards detailing different incidents. One card, he explained, had unusually large wolf tracks. Another described a hairy pointy-eared beast on two legs seen chasing down a deer.

Yet another card described a fast food restaurant worker who saw a large man-like creature run past the restaurant. The worker said that the creature was running very fast and seemed to be in complete control of itself as it leaped over a parked car and onto a tall hedge that divided the restaurant from the neighboring property.

The Animal Control Officer believed that all of these sightings were describing a very large coyote, or even a wolf. Both had, over the years, been reported in the area. Roger believed differently after looking over the man’s notes. He believed it was a werewolf. But was it alone?

You might as well make this your office while you’re here, Mr. Marquette. I’ll ask the Browning’s to give you a discount on your room at the Bed & Breakfast. Tell them it has to do with a case you’re helping me with. I gotta’ say after hearing these testimonials again I’m beginning to have my doubts on it being a coyote. He shrugged.

Thanks. Yeah, this might take a while. Roger agreed.

******

The next day Sarah Klein came to see Roger, and said her nine-year-old daughter Hailey had seen a creature that had frightened her. Hailey,had been out playing with a friend a few weeks ago when she came running home in tears because she was so scared.

She told me that she thought it was a dog until it stood up on its hind legs, Sarah recalled. I told her that dogs sometimes will stand on their back legs for the silliest of reasons. But she insisted we go down to the edge of the road and see for ourselves. I just blew it off as an over-active imagination. Hailey’s a special child and can remember every detail of that day and how scared she was. Sarah took a deep breath, then continued. My daughter described the creature as being very big with brown fur. She said it had a face like our neighbors’ German Shepherd, but with thicker legs. ‘They looked like a big man’s legs’ only more hairy. She ran all the way home without stopping then, all of a sudden the creature ran into the woods next to the field and just disappeared.

Sarah grasped Roger’s arm. My daughter isn’t the kind to make stories up or exaggerate things.

Thank you for stopping by, Mrs. Klein. Maybe you can bring Hailey by some time so I can ask her some questions.

Sarah stood up. I’d prefer not, Mr. Marquette. She still has nightmares sometimes and I don’t want her having to relive the experience by telling you what happened. I just want the creature found so it doesn’t scare any more children.

I understand, but it would help her with her fears knowing someone is here trying to find the creature.

She nodded to Roger. I’ll think on it. Thank you for listening. And she promptly walked out of the office.

******

You’re that investigator, aren’t you? the waitress at the diner asked Roger, when he stopped in for dinner that night and sat down at the counter to order.

Roger nodded. I am. Have you heard any stories about the creature lurking around?

Pouring coffee into his cup, she said, "The townspeople who have seen the Beast are afraid. Lots more folks have seen it than will admit to it. One man who came in here claimed a local hunter found animal tracks on his land. But the man couldn’t identify what kind of animal made those tracks. Another woman and her two children saw a dark hairy creature on two legs chase a deer out of the woods—and keep up with it.

How many people do you think have seen the creature? Roger prodded.

Oh, I don’t know. Maybe twenty. She put the coffee pot back on the burner and took his order. Most people seem to agree that something is out there. They just don’t know what it is.

Not knowing what he could say to comfort the woman, Roger nodded and sipped his coffee.

Back at the Animal Control Office Roger asked the officer to explain to him why he thought this creature was really an over-sized coyote or wolf.

Sometimes, when a wolf or coyote is ready to attack, he said, it’ll rise up on its hind legs before charging. This could cause someone to think the animal is on its hind legs when the creature is running.

I’m familiar with that theory, and it does make sense. But some of the stories I’ve heard have this animal doing things that a coyote or wolf couldn’t physically do, Roger said.

Irregardless, the officer said, there are a lot of people who really believe they’ve seen some kind of creature out there. I simply do not know what to tell them, or how to track it.

Chapter 3

He sat quietly in the front room looking out the window at Woodsman Drive. It was a quiet neighborhood set back in the middle of what was once a farm field surrounded by fields of knee high or higher corn. Nearby was the Pine Barrens, a deep, dark thicket of heavy pine trees full of deer and turkey, and other small animals. The area had long been popular with townspeople for the abundance of berries it yielded. Raspberries, blackberries and blueberries were everywhere in these woods.

It was the neighborhood that was important right now. A long zigzagging road, Woodsmen Drive, bordered single-family tract homes. Neat front yards, friendly neighbors and a Neighborhood Watch Program that probably wasn’t necessary. Some thought it was necessary though, and thought the Program was not enough to keep the bandits away.

One neighbor was always watching for these bandits. Rarely did anything happen here that missed his eyes.

When he was not looking, he dozed, but never too deeply. Any sound or movement awakened him… He missed almost nothing.

He rested mostly during the day; at night was when he saw things. He knew something was out there. He had seen it before, and his instincts told him it was out there. In the corner of his eye, the hair on his head…it all knew something was there. He was not going to miss seeing it again. He had to protect his family.

He watched always, rarely taking his eyes off the field or the pine forest. He knew it was out there. He had to stand guard. It was coming. He felt it. He knew it.

He watched the horizon above the rise. Out there in the corn… Was it coming for him? Was it searching for his family?

Chapter 4

Deputy Slocum slid into a booth at The Retreat, a family-owned restaurant on North Main Street. His shift was over, and for him, it was dinner time, unlike most people who were just sitting down to eat breakfast.

John was a regular there and knew the owners well, grabbing a meal at the end of his shift; especially if he didn’t have to report anything. Today was no different. Things in Lake Melts were usually slow.

Ordering his usual; bacon, eggs over easy, hash browns, wheat toast, coffee and orange juice, John leaned back and closed his eyes, taking advantage of the break he was having and the relative quiet of the restaurant. The soft hum of the voices of other customers, coupled with the muffled sounds from the kitchen allowed him to relax a moment.

John, wake up.

A hand smacked John on top of his head, startling him.

Hey, what’d you do that for, Karl? Can’t a guy catch some zzzs. I just finished my shift.

Yeah, whatever. Next time you won’t be so lucky.

Karl Grabinski, an investigator with the Johnson County Sheriff’s Department, was John’s best friend. John and Karl had been in the Army together after spending their entire lives growing up in Lake Melts, terrorizing the countryside with their good-natured antics. Karl was the same age as John. Around six feet tall with sandy brown hair, he possessed an infectious smile. Karl could disarm a criminal with his grin and get them to talk using his penetrating eyes alone. People trusted him and Karl was well liked in the