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January 4, 2013

The Web & the Willow by C.H. Scarlett

This was rated 4 TUBS              
                                                     THE WEB & THE WILLOW

              by C.H. Scarlet

Willow Graves was struggling with sleep paralysis and unexplained paranormal events. Willow just wants to settle down. The perfect place seems to be Lake Serenity to begin unbraiding the webs in her head. She feels like she has finally made the right choice.  After a year the locals start turning up dead and the corrupted sheriff is blaming Sterling Walker, one of the few friends Willow has. Then the real reason why the mountain is different makes itself known, and Willow's past, and that of the mountain, weaves itself dangerously around Willow and begins to haunt her mind.  Can Willow survive?  Is she even meant to survive? What really brought her to the lake to begin with?  Is she really who she  appears to be? Willow Graves is going to find out even if it's the last thing she does.

North Carolina
Summer of 1999

Devil's whore!" Glenna struck Salina across the mouth. The palm-on-skin clap hit at the same time a quick strum of lightning flashed outside the farmhouse window.
Salina fell to the bed, tears bleeding down sodden cheeks. She brought a trembling hand up to her inflamed mouth. Blood trickled down raw, fragile fingers as Glenna grabbed a handful of hair, violently jerking her off the bed. The old wooden floors scraped and burned against her trembling knees as Glenna forced her onto them while holding up a worn, leather journal with the other hand that became the very rod to smite her with.
"You see with the Devil's own wicked eyes!" Glenna screamed. "I read your journal of lies and damnation. Just fourteen years old, and you're a foul little whore, dreaming up magical webs and speaking wolves. Do you actually think these things are real? I see through your evil soothsaying. You, girl, are godless and shall be punished for it!"
Her mother jerked the tattered book open and shouted what she deemed to be so sinful. "Webs, dreams, visions . . . look . . .
look!" The book cracked against Salina's face. "My best milking cow dies, dated a month before it happened! Your father fired from the sawmill . . . predicted two months earlier! What demon whispers these things to you?" "No demon, Momma!" Salina cried. "No demon!" "These are the devil's tricks, girl, and you will burn with them!"
Ruthlessly, Glenna kept pounding the book, assaulting Salina repeatedly, even after her weight buckled and collapsed underneath each painful blow.
"Beat those demons out! I will beat them out!"
Pages tore loose and flitted through the air. With each strike, Salina's skin broke, bled, and swelled. She tried to rip herself away from her mother's maddening grip but
her actions proved futile. The force of Glenna's violence became harder each time Salina tried. She buckled into a puddle on the floor when her mother's grip slipped from exhaustion. Salina--a tattered and broken rag doll--whimpered as the stinging pain throbbed throughout her upper torso.
Panting heavily, Glenna tripped over her long, denim skirt, while making a mad dash to a candle in her daughter's room. Out of breath but not out of hatred, Glenna held what little was left of the journal over the hungry flame.
your fault we can't pay our bills." She blamed the girl. "Your fault he beats me and no longer wants me. You have cursed this home, bringing God's wrath down upon us. You have soiled his love for me with all your wickedness, you filthy, little whore!" She held the burning journal high above Salina's head. "You're a sin against God. I should have smothered you in your crib!" She spat and threw the leathery mess into the empty fireplace. "Thou shalt not suffer a Witch to live!" The pages coiled and vanished into blackened bits of ash. "Don't think I won't burn you like your cursed book. Don't think I won't!" Salina ducked as Glenna threw the candle at her just before storming out as violently as she came in. The splashed wax burned Salina's skin while the locks on the door itself, the special ones her mother put there--clicked and latched. The last of the residue from the dying fire turned to flakes, floating silently across the humid room, biting against the bitterness and misery sealed forever inside. And the battered child knew Glenna's abuse would only be the beginning. For the greater monster that lurked within these walls had yet to show its face,
but would, before the night said its final good-byes.

This was a real page turner.  You couldn't wait to see what was on the next page.  The characters were fascinating.  Most had a mind of their own, especially Willow.  She didn't take any crap off anybody.  She definitely was one hell of a lover.  Willow knew what Clark wanted, but she wasn't about to let him bed her.  If she wanted to shack up wiith anyone, she thought it was her own business and didn't hesitate to say so.
 She told him she'd go to the dance at Pig's Run when pigs fly. She had a lot of humor in her....

As his chest, against her back, was throbbing for air, his soft, satisfying kisses were on her lips, not stopping for a second. What a description, you can almost feel those soft kisses coming from his moist lips. She remained with her eyes fixed on the swaying green branches and what was spreading across them. It was a web of light spinning sliver, swaying in the breeze.  Her  vision became blurry as the black and white flashing began.  As one world dissolved, another was  brought forth in a place in between.  You can almost see that web swaying in the breeze. The spidery,  long , twisted turns.  A voice inside her calm mind told her it was time to bring the webs forth and open the Gate.  Hecate needed her presence.....


"Originally published on not now...Mommy's reading.

I received this complimentary e-book WEB AND THE WILLOW from Manic Readers ON BEHALF OF Not Now...Mommy's Reading  for this unbiasd review.

Wolf : Wolf howling at the moon Stock Photo

                  A WEB UNTO A WILLOW FOR WILLOW.

W.H. Murray

Desire makes life happen. Makes it matter. Makes everything worth it.  Desire is life, hungry to see the new sunrise or sunset,,,to touch the one you try again.
 Hell would be waking up and wanting nothing.
Karen Marie Moning



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