Torn

By Shereen Vedam

A sorceress who's afraid of casting a spell?

Amity's last attempt at magically helping someone was a disaster. So, she decides to give up her spell casting ways. Then one day she meets the perfect man. However, only by casting another spell will she have a chance to meet that captivating nobleman again.

Duncan is entranced by a beauty in the woods whom he accidentally injures. Then his duty to the kingdom keeps him too busy to seek her out. His land is in trouble, dry and dying, and needs practical help. Instead, a mage has been summoned to conduct a sham blessing.

When Amity and Duncan next meet, will it be a happy reunion? Or will her magical abilities let her down again, resulting in a new disaster that destroys the land as well as her best chance at love?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shereen Vedam
• Release date: May 11, 2019
• ISBN: 9780995344761

Shereen Vedam

Once upon a time, USA Today bestselling author Shereen Vedam read fantasy and romance novels to entertain herself. Now she writes heartwarming tales braided with threads of magic and love and mystery elements woven in for good measure. Shereen's a fan of resourceful women, intriguing men, and happily-ever-after endings. If her stories whisk you away to a different realm for a few hours, then Shereen will have achieved one of her life goals. Please consider leaving a review wherever you purchased this book.

Book preview

Chapter 1

JUST ONE EARTH BLESSING for our beleaguered Kingdom of Edensa. Amity’s Uncle Hamon held up a finger. Is that too much to ask?

Yes! For me. All the wishing in the world couldn’t turn her into a capable spell caster. His request set a sensitive nerve thrumming on the left side of her forehead. She couldn’t settle on anything, so she stomped away. Skirts lifted, she raced out the door and was halfway through the surrounding fields and heading to the woods when the cottage door banged shut.

Her soft-spoken uncle was upset. So was she.

I am not my mother!

Even if he turned a blind eye to her limitations, Amity was well aware of every one of them. She came to a halt at the tree line and a sigh shuddered through her body. A mishmash of fury, fright, and confusion washed over her like a scorching desert wind. Picking up a twig, she swiped at a tree trunk. The brittle branch crumbled to the dry ground. As she continued on, the crunching of grass under her calfskin boots boomed loud to her sensitive ears.

It was early summer, and yet this once lush forest was sparse and dying. If this drought lasted much longer, this year’s crops would be worse than last, and her tiny village would diminish further.

The dead leaves and fallen branches made her argument with her uncle more tragic and its far-reaching consequences blare in brown tones. Coming out here may have been a mistake.

Uncle Hamon is wrong!

She was incapable of healing this land. If she tried, she would make things worse, as always happened whenever she cast a spell. What if she prolonged this drought for years instead of just one summer? Or started a fire that burned the already tinder-dry crops and left everyone worse off?

Born of a long line of mages, Amity should have found her uncle’s request easy to perform. Blessings were the simplest of spells. Any child with a shred of talent could cast it. All she had to do was focus her mind and wish with all her heart. How difficult could that be? Well, for her, it was near impossible. Another branch was picked up, another swipe. At the twig snapping, a flock of sparrows resting in the branches fluttered away.

Three summers ago, when Amity was no more than sixteen summers, Uncle Hamon persuaded her to do him one little favor by casting a spell. Still heartsore at recently losing her mother, she had wanted to please him.

Back then, her uncle’s favorite drinking partner had married the wrong woman. He begged Amity to cast a mild forget-me spell on his friend’s new wife so she would forget him and pick another man. The woman was making his friend’s life miserable by haranguing him about his love for ale.

Amity had hesitated, knowing she wasn’t as strong a mage as her dearly departed mother. Then she met the young wife and instantly empathized with the poor man. Though the woman looked sixteen, she had a terrible controlling streak, with a mouth that never shut up.

For the short time Amity was with her, the woman tore a strip off her husband, her mother-in-law, and all of her neighbors. She detailed her husband’s every foible and laughed in a mean-spirited way. Even if she was a decent housekeeper, that was no excuse for acting obnoxious and cruel.

If the wife was so unhappy in her marriage, forgetting her husband would probably be for the best. So, Amity changed her mind and spun her forget-me spell. It enveloped the wife in a gentle glow, stilling her in mid-vitriol.

The woman shivered as if a chill wind had struck her. Then she blinked and looked around the room in confusion. Where am I?

Amity released a tightly held breath of relief. Her spell had worked. A quick conversation revealed the wife had forgotten her husband entirely. The courtship. The marriage. Her new home. Everything. When they went out of that house, the extent of Amity’s blunder revealed itself. Somehow, the spell had affected everyone else in the village, too.

People didn’t remember who they loved and whom they hated. Where they were supposed to live or to whom they were promised. Soon as night fell, couples bedded with each other willy-nilly.

Amity worked frantically to counter her spell. All to no avail. It was a week before the darn thing wore off and everyone remembered their lives again. By then, it was too late.

She shuddered now, remembering the birthings that had resulted months later from random human pairings. To this