Relics of Salem Prequel: Relics of Salem, #0

By S.H. Steele

Having been raised by a Tarot reader, Rowena Wickerson has always felt her mother's work was a scam. Valuing true, empirical data, she finds it difficult to believe in the metaphysical world.

 

Wanting to learn more about the Civil War, Rowena sets out to find work on the East Coast. When the twenty-one-year-old historian's car is struck by lightning on her way to Salem, Massachusetts, she's thrown headfirst into a secret world and a centuries-long war that may be impossible to win.

 

Her first taste of the magical world is in the form of messages on her phone. How were they sent? Who sent them? How could Rowena help the person on the other side? Join Rowena as she dives into a new side of history she never knew existed. Will she find love along the way? Will her mind be able to reconcile her beliefs with her experiences? Don't miss this exciting paranormal occult romance. Mild language. Suitable for teens and adults.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S.H. Steele
• Release date: Jan 8, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224574315

Book preview

The

Relics

of

Salem

Prequel

S.H. Steele

––––––––

Copyright © 2022 S.H. Steele

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form whatsoever, whether by graphic, visual, electronic, film, microfilm, tape recording, or any other means, without prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief passages embodied in critical reviews and articles.

Published by:

Dream Write Literary Publishing

Cedar City, UT 84721

[e-mail]

Table of Contents

Struck

Overlooked

Grimoire

Asher

About the Author

Other Works

Struck

Rowena didn’t know why she ever thought to listen to her mother when it came to driving across the country.

She did know, actually. Her mother had a way about her that made even the most horrible ideas sound like a dream. It was the same charisma that her sister, Stevie, had. The ability to take any task and make it seem like an adventure.

It’d worked well when she was a child. Cleaning her room felt like a game of pretend when her mother would send her on a scavenger hunt for her own toys. She’d even go so far as to give each forgotten plush and doll a wild journey to return home to its proper place.

As an adult on her way from Los Angeles to Boston, Massachusetts, perhaps making the most of the journey wasn’t exactly the best call. Sure, making stops all week on her carefully mapped-out trek across the country had been fun, but in her current location, it was anything but the adventure she’d started. She’d spent much of the last few days studying local history, which was something Rowena greatly enjoyed.

Local historians were so passionate about what they studied, and it was a joy to talk to them about places they had often spent their entire lives living in and learning about.

Now she was in the middle of nowhere, in a car being pelted by marble-sized hail, with no data and barely enough bars to call her mother to frantically ask for her help.

Mom, I need you to stop saying east or west. I don’t have a compass. I don’t even see any street signs, Rowena shouted into her speaker phone over the cacophony of hail beating her car roof. She’d parked on the side of the road to make the phone call. She didn’t need to be distracted by her mother’s voice while driving through the storm of the century.

Right, do you see any buildings around? Maybe a rest stop? her mother asked.

No, it’s just...trees and grass and road, she responded impatiently. And hail.

Okay, well. Why don’t you just wait for the storm to pass, and when visibility is a bit better, maybe you’ll get some data service too.

It’s already getting dark, Rowena griped. I hate this.

I know, baby, I’m sorry, she said, her voice pitying in that way that only mothers seem to pull off without it sounding condescending. It will pass soon and you’ll get to Boston safely.

"Only if I don’t get murdered