Zoe

By Sarah Doughty

Zoe Kavanaugh is clueless about the supernatural world and her place in it, but after she meets an unlikely ally, she discovers the awful truth about her past and the price she'll have to pay to protect the ones she loves.

Eighteen-year-old Zoe Kavanaugh can't for the life of her remember why she decided to take the plunge and become a witch with a desire she can't explain to develop her power. But she's failing. Until she meets light witch, Connor Jennings -- the man who takes her under his wing and wins her heart.

When a dark witch from Zoe's past shows up to threaten everything -- including the man she loves and his werewolf friend, Shadow -- memories of all he did to her and her family come flooding back. She will risk everything to protect her only friends, rescue the last remaining member of her family, and stop the dark witch stalking her. Even if it means embracing the darkness
Sometimes, it's good to be bad....

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sarah Doughty
• Release date: Apr 15, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311955937

Sarah Doughty

The night calls to me in moonlit whispers and my daydreams answer.Conjuring words from the ether is like breathing — my weapon — my therapy. It allows me to weed through all the pain, in an effort to find myself again.My name is Sarah Doughty and I suffer from complex PTSD, depression, and debilitating anxiety. And if I don’t have a migraine, I have a headache. Every. Single. Day. Though I am terrified of the night, crowds, and much more, this darkness has become my home.If writing is my breath, then my books are my life. While my poetry focuses on singular events meant to evoke feeling or spur memories, fiction is where my heart lies. Though my books are a way for me to escape my mind and experience a magical world, deep down the problems are very real. And in many ways, my characters are vivid and alive, which in turn helps me see the world in a better light.I've shared them online for anyone who wants to read them — for free, to offer someone else hope, or the same, temporary escape as they did for me.

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Warnings

Triggers: Please note this book is meant for adult audiences. It contains sexual content, attempted murder, violence, and a brief account of torture and rape.

Spoilers: This is a prequel novella in a larger series universe, which takes place before the main overarching timeline in the series. It follows the backstory of the heroine from Enduring The Flames. This book can be read at any time, but it is recommended to read Just Breathe first.

The Earthen Witch Chronicles

by Sarah Doughty

Just Breathe

Focus

Home

Listen

Safe

Stronger Than Blood

Enduring The Flames

Zoe*

Dream Spell**

*a prequel novella

**a standalone novella

For my friend, Jessi. The sacrifices we make for the people we love

are a direct reflection of our souls and their purity.

You deserve a chance at happiness.

But remember:

Sometimes, it's good to be bad.

There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking it makes it so.

–William Shakespeare

A bad system will beat a good person every time.

–W. Edwards Deming

Nobody thinks that they're evil or bad, they think that they're doing the right thing.

–Andrew McCarthy

Chapter 1

October fourth, two thousand nine — Today's lesson was levitation....

I bit my tongue trying to keep myself from laughing as I watched the man pacing in front of me. He looked like a general rallying his troops.

His attire was his usual dark shirt and pants complete with boots, and it didn't detract from his look of authority. If it weren't for his long, straight brown hair falling in his face and that stubble darkening his jaw, I would think he was a part of some military establishment.

But I knew better.

The unseasonably warm early October morning in Mequon, Wisconsin meant we didn't need to wear jackets that day.

That was fine by me, because I rather enjoyed watching him move. Over the past several months since I met him, I knew that pacing was his way of processing his thoughts, trying to keep them in order, while maintaining that air of authority around him.

Connor Jennings was like no one I ever met before. He was beautiful — in a very manly way, of course. And the way his clothes clung to him only accentuated his assets. He was muscled and strong — much stronger than me, and stronger than most men, but it wasn't obvious.

Not only was he a skilled fighter, but he was a witch. A light witch, like me. That calm, contemplative purple aura undulating around him like a hazy cloud was one of the few indicators that he wasn't human, but only someone like us — supernatural creatures, or others — could see them.

He was also my teacher, helping me learn the ways of the world and what it meant to be a witch. I didn't have anyone else.

It was hard to imagine a girl growing up south of Perth, Australia with a large family of strong women, only to find herself drifting around America at the age of eighteen with no family and no friends. Other than Connor and Shadow, that was.

Shadow was off to the left, dozing beneath the shade of a large maple tree, which was just beginning to change from the lush green of summer to yellow and orange in preparation for fall. Most people thought he was a dog, but Connor and I knew better.

Though the two hundred and fifty pound werewolf liked to be treated like a family pet, he was far smarter — and bigger — than any dogs or wolves. From the little research I did on the mystery of werewolves, I knew he was also one of the biggest of his kind.

Ever since I met him, despite mostly seeing purple in his aura, I didn't think the wolf trusted me. But he accepted me. Because of Connor. On top of that, I never saw him shift, so I didn't know what he looked like in his human form.

That was one of the downsides of being other. Most were-animals picked a preference between human or animal and stayed that way. The world was just too dangerous for all the supernaturals, witches included.

Being other was lonely and dangerous. It meant a life of solitude, living in secret, and the threats weren't always the same.

I was lucky that Connor and Shadow were different.

After growing up with such a large family, my two friends still left me feeling lonely. I sometimes found myself wishing I never became a witch in the first place. But for the life of me, I couldn't remember why.

Maybe it was a whim.

Zoe Kavanaugh, are you even listening to me? Connor barked and I jumped, not realizing I wasn't listening to him. He even stopped pacing.

Oops.

I grinned up at him, ignoring the strange sensation in my stomach I felt all morning. Just making sure you were paying attention to me, I drawled.

Connor stood a few inches taller than my five foot eight height and rested his hands on his hips, trying his best to look disappointed, but I knew better. Light blue filtered into his aura, replacing most of the purple and his lips twitched with humor. Then what did I just say?

With a sigh, I said, You were droning on about the levitation spell and then you paused before saying, ‘and you aren't listening to a word I'm saying. I'm just talking to myself and blah, blah, blah,' I finished in my best falsetto. That was right before you barked at me.

The corners of his perfectly rounded lips turned up into a sly smile he tried to force down as an amazed orange flamed in his aura for a moment before returning to light blue and purple. Then he narrowed his eyes at me. Lucky guess, he said, low.

I laughed. I couldn't help myself. He knew how well I could pay attention even if it seemed like I was daydreaming. Which I was, come to think of it.

He attempted to give me a look of displeasure and failed as his shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. His lips twitched again and his hair fell forward, curtaining around his face.

That perfect head of hair was just long enough to fall past his cheekbones and covered his neck in the back. Ever since I met him, I loved his hair, but I never told him. As much as I wanted otherwise, he was strictly my teacher.

He made that clear from the beginning. Even then, he could tell I wanted more from him.

Auras weren't as complicated as I thought when I first discovered them. Not only did it surround people like us — others — they also surrounded magical objects. If an object was magical, it would reflect the type of magic used on it — light or dark.

But for people like us, it was a little more complex.

Depending on the emotions felt, which could be several at any given time and with varying degrees of intensity, auras reflected a person's true feelings.

The only problem was that I couldn't see my aura. No one could see their own auras. We could only see them emitted from someone or something else. Controlling our emotions was a useful defense mechanism if we happened to stumble across another supernatural creature.

But my emotions weren't under control, and I couldn't hide how I felt like Connor and Shadow could.

To spare my embarrassment, my mentor acted as though he never noticed my aura, unless something was bothering me, like sadness.

Just like that, my good mood was gone and I sighed.

What's wrong? he asked as his aura shifted to a darker blue, mirroring my sorrow back at me.

Nothing, I forced a smile as I hooked my straight red hair behind my ears and pushed the long locks behind my shoulders, wishing I remembered to grab a hair band from the motel before we left.

Even though I was a few inches shorter than Connor's six foot height, I still felt small and feminine in his presence. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I liked that about him.

With my rosy complexion, vivid green eyes, and thin body — but not so thin that I lacked appeal in the bust — I knew most men found me attractive. But no matter how hard I tried to catch my mentor's attention, he never saw me as anything but his student. It made me feel like a charity case — and that I didn't like.

I smoothed the hem of my black and purple blouse over my dark jeans, more out of nervousness than necessity, because Connor's deep, chocolate brown eyes were still focused on me.

When I finished doing that, I was out of options. Finally, I looked up and met his gaze. Pink bled into the edges of his aura and tingles traveled down my body in response.

I knew pink. And I knew how rare it was to see it on him.

Pink meant desire.

Suddenly, I forgot what I was upset about, but just as soon as that pink entered his aura,