Autumn of the Grimoire (Sisters Solstice, #1)

by J.L. Vampa

The Sisters Solstice gathered around a blazing fire Seleste conjured, each of them facing the flames from whence their magic came: Wendolyn from the Nord, Sorscha from the Est, Seleste from the Sud, and Agatha from the Ouest.

“She shall come,” he recited, “shrouded in black, but not of mourning…” With a continued look of astonishment, he reached out and pointed to her black skirts before looking at her face. “With eyes of the honey moon.”

“You never even wear shoes, and I stole them because you burned my damned house to the ground.” Sorscha scoffed, throwing her hands up. “One time. It was one time.” “That’s an awful lot of times to burn someone’s home to ash.”

One must take pains to remember that life deals in greys. What is white to one might very well be black to another. It matters not who is right or wrong, but how we mutually treat one another in the midst of the grey.

He already knew she’d say something with pumpkin. “Anything with pumpkin.”

The greater good will always be the path less traversed. Let it be mine.

Kindness is a strength all its own. Peace and tranquillity should never be misinterpreted as meek or feeble.