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Something Found: Tales of the Zodiac Cusp Kids, #4
Something Found: Tales of the Zodiac Cusp Kids, #4
Something Found: Tales of the Zodiac Cusp Kids, #4
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Something Found: Tales of the Zodiac Cusp Kids, #4

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Just over a week has passed since Angie, David and Jenny said goodbye to Barb, and Alesta the German Shepherd pup. David and Jenny convince Jon and Angie to come to a dance at the neighborhood Rec Center and mysterious things begin to appear. Jenny's prophecies guide them to a magical artifact that transports the Zodiac Cusp Kids away from the dance on a world-hopping rescue that opens their eyes to a terrifying new enemy, and to some powerful magical allies closer to home than they'd dreamed.

 

Something Found is the fourth of seven stories drawn from Angie's diaries. Kept safely hidden for decades, they tell how the kids spent their teenage years – working with their mentor, Mr. Rakow, and Jenny's mom, Lorraine, who dabbles in witchcraft, to realize their power and battle the forces of darkness that menace their hometown.

Just over a week has passed since Angie, David and Jenny said goodbye to Barb, and Alesta the German Shepherd pup. David and Jenny convince Jon and Angie to come to a dance at the neighborhood Rec Center and mysterious things begin to appear. Jenny's prophecies guide them to a magical artifact that transports the Zodiac Cusp Kids away from the dance on a world-hopping rescue that opens their eyes to a terrifying new enemy, and to some powerful magical allies closer to home than they'd dreamed.

 

Something Found is the fourth of seven stories drawn from Angie's diaries. Kept safely hidden for decades, they tell how the kids spent their teenage years – working with their mentor, Mr. Rakow, and Jenny's mom, Lorraine, who dabbles in witchcraft, to realize their power and battle the forces of darkness that menace their hometown.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherSarah Dale
Release dateSep 1, 2020
ISBN9781952667077
Something Found: Tales of the Zodiac Cusp Kids, #4

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    Book preview

    Something Found - Sarah Dale

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    To Brenda, Gerry, Eric, Dan, Stephen and Steve for their bright and wonderful light during the darkest hours of junior high. And to Bob for his expertise on Chevy Citations.

    And to Ellie who made it better.

    Printed in the United States of America

    This edition Printed, 2020

    ISBN-13: 978-1-952667-08-4

    AISN: 978-1-952667-07-7

    © Sarah Dale, 2020

    Cover Art © Janina Franck, 2020

    Editing © Ellie Piersol, 2020

    Interior Design © Foundation Formatting, 2020

    All rights reserved.

    Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

    The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

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    My heart was pounding, my head throbbed, my eyes were hot with unshed tears. I slammed the bathroom door shut, locked it and stared at myself in the unrelentingly bright bathroom light.

    I looked like hell.

    My sister, Mallory, had overheard me on the phone talking to Jen about what we were going to wear that night to the Rec Dance, and she and her best friend Heather had sort of lost their marbles.

    "You’re going to a dance? Like that?"

    Um, yeah? What’s your deal? I asked as the two of them shared a glance. Then they dragged my body, frozen with confused dread into Mal’s room and the horrors began.

    My hair was curled back from my face in huge barrel rolls. My bangs were somehow curled and razor straight at the same time. They’d used so much hairspray that when Mallory pulled Bic lighter out to melt the tip of the purple eyeliner pencil she was about to apply to the insides of my eyelids; I nearly had a stroke. I was positive the three of us were going up in flames.

    Then, they started dressing me.

    By the time Jen came to my rescue, I’d been leg-warmered, glittered, body-suited, shoulder-padded and rainbow skirted to within an inch of my life.

    Oh. My, she said, looking me up and down.

    Help? I quaked.

    Don’t panic. Strip off that top layer, throw on your jean jacket, and come with me.

    My hair, I whispered.

    She dug in her backpack and pulled out a slightly smashed fedora.  Put this on for now.

    I pulled it down over my rock-hard mass of hair-sprayed hair. She cocked her head and appraised me in the hat.

    That might be a keeper.

    Where did you get it?

    Swiped it off Jayson in art class. I think it fits you better anyway. Come on. Let’s get you fixed up.

    We hustled down the block to Jen’s house, thankfully meeting no one on the way.

    Mom! We need some assistance with Angie’s look for this evening. Can you help us out?

    Lorraine poked her head around the doorway into the kitchen and frowned. Good grief! Who did that to you? she demanded, striding over.

    Mallory, I said, rolling my eyes.

    Hmph. It’s cute, on her! But it doesn’t suit you at all. She tipped the hat up and crunched a piece of my hair between her thumb and forefinger. "Go get the blue brush from my room, Jen. Start brushing out your hair and wash your face. Use the white cream on the sink. Then come in my room. We’ll figure something out that’s less Mallory and more Angie."

    I hugged her. Really hard. Then Jen grabbed me and we scurried off to start my makeunder.

    Did you decide if you’re going to wear the t-shirt or the black top? I asked Jen. And how am I supposed to get this mascara off? Mal uses the waterproof stuff. It’s impossible, I grumped, scrubbing at my eyes.

    Use that goop, she pointed, No, the one in the little pot. Yeah. I slathered the correct cold cream on my eyes and scrubbed at my face with the washcloth Jen stuck in my hand.

    The black top, said Jen thoughtfully. She eyed her long fingernails. "Black top, Chuck Taylors and the jean jacket.

    The new one? Or the old faded one?

    New, maybe. We’ll see. And you’re going to wear the red top.

    I am?

    Yes, and the vest and jeans I grabbed from your room, and you should wear the hat.

    I should?

    Absolutely.

    I had been dragging the brush through my hair the whole time and my eyes were watering anew from the heavy scent of the hairspray.

    Lorraine came in then with a spray bottle of water and a towel.

    Here, let me wet your hair down, then rub your hair with the towel. It will tone down the smell at least. She waved a hand in front of her nose. Come in my room, we’ll use my mirror. Do you want to wear it up or down?

    I don’t know, down I guess.

    Do the little flower child braids on her, Mom, Jen said, holding up a strand of my hair near the temple and pulling it back, away from my face.

    I slumped a little. My hair usually hung around my face at school. I only wore it pulled back if we were training or battling some beastie.

    Angie, are you okay with that idea? Lorraine asked, cupping my chin and smiling at me kindly.

    Lorraine’s smile tipped something in me. I’ll never know if it was Witch magic from her, or the more mundane but no less powerful Mom magic, but for a brief spell, long enough for me to take a deep breath, my anxiety lifted.

    All the loose threads I’d been chasing down since Jen and David hatched this plan for me to go to the Rec Dance—where I would conceivably dance with and have some kind of magical connection with John—stilled. The thread where I was both completely terrified and delighted about the idea of dancing with a boy I might like…connected to the thread where I was supremely hopeful and equally aghast that he might like me back...connected to the thread where I was totally lacking in the kind of confidence it took to be somebody’s girlfriend…warred with my supreme confidence that I was smart and not a complete weakling any more, thanks to Mr. Rakow and his PT exercises…connected to the thread that this woman who

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