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Zusatztext "Delivers a compelling mystery about feuding families and buried secrets! not to mention a steamy romance." Informationen zum Autor Martina Boone was born in Prague and spoke several languages before learning English. She fell in love with words and never stopped delighting in them. She's the author of the Heirs of Watson Island series, and the founder of both AdventuresinYAPublishing.com, a Writer's Digest 101 Best Websites for Writers site, and YASeriesInsiders.com, a Tumblr site devoted to news, giveaways, and insider secrets of much-loved and up-and-coming YA series. From her home in Virginia, where she lives with her husband, children, and Auggie the wonder dog, she enjoys writing contemporary fantasy set in the kinds of magical places she'd love to visit. When she isn't writing, she's addicted to travel, horses, skiing, chocolate flavored tea, and anything with Nutella on it. Klappentext "Barrie must rescue her beloved and her family from evil spirits that cursed Watson Island centuries ago"--Illusion CHAPTER ONE Bravery isn’t born. It’s forged in the nightmare places where fear tears the mind apart. For Barrie Watson, her cousin Cassie’s plantation across the river from Watson’s Landing had become such a place. There, it was all too easy to see how shards of past events could turn into weapons, until one bad choice led to another, and memories became prisons that trapped people as surely as any door. Between the memories and the migraine that always formed when she was away from Watson’s Landing, Barrie fidgeted in the passenger seat of her aunt Pru’s old, black boat of a Mercedes. The sun-pinked skin exposed by her sleeveless top stuck to the leather in the sodden Southern heat and plastered her long, pale curls to the nape of her neck. Her traitorous fingers itched to grab the steering wheel and tell her aunt to turn around. Even the sun slanting low through the oaks that lined the winding drive seemed to whisper a warning, transforming the veils of Spanish moss into something ghostly and macabre. But Barrie couldn’t change her mind. No matter how excruciatingly hard she had tried to make the right choices recently, she had kept hurting other people. She had to set that right, and the first step began here at Colesworth Place. Pru eased the Mercedes to a stop at the edge of the visitor lot closest to where the lane continued on toward the ruins of the old plantation mansion and the smaller, modern house where Cassie and her family lived. Barrie adjusted the foil over the chicken casserole that Pru had hastily assembled and pushed the door open. Pru didn’t move. Sitting there with her hands gripped tightly at the top of the steering wheel, her fine, blond curls haloed around her in the fading light, Barrie’s aunt resembled a lovely and slightly demented angel. Barrie hated what all this was doing to her. “Are you all right, Aunt Pru?” Pru’s lips lifted wryly. “Look at us. We’re a fine pair, aren’t we? I’m trying to talk myself into getting out of this car, and for all your determination, you look like you’d rather turn around and run.” She reached out and touched Barrie’s wrist. “Let’s just go on home, sugar. At least for tonight. You don’t owe it to your cousin to break the Colesworth curse, and you certainly don’t owe a thing to this Obadiah, or whatever that magician of yours calls himself.” “I’m not sure ‘magician’ is the right word, exactly. More like a shaman,” Barrie said, avoiding the question. “You know I ought to have my head examined for even considering letting you come over to look for him, don’t you? Not that I seem to be able to prevent you from doing anything. I wish you’d just forget all this.”...
