Contents Other works by Debra Kristi: Dedication Quote Gifted Girls Series Introduction Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 From The Author Meet The Author Acknowledgments Bewitching Belle (The Gifted Girl Series, Book Two) Copyright © 2020 by Debra Kristi All rights reserved. Published by Ghost Girl Publishing, LLC. www.GhostGirlPublishing.com This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000. Library of Congress Control Number: 2020900967 Paperback ISBN: 978-1-942191-29-2 / eBook ISBN: 978-1-942191-28-5 Cover design by Fantasy Book Design Professional editing by Eden Plantz Bewitching Belle, 1st ed. Visit the author: http://www.debrakristi.com/ Created with Vellum Other works by Debra Kristi: THE BALANCE BRINGER CHRONICLES Becoming: The Balance Bringer Awakening: The Balance Bringer Empowering: The Balance Bringer The First Balance Bringer MOORIGAD DRAGON COLLECTION Moorigad CURSED ANGEL COLLECTION Blood Promise: Watchtower 7 THE GIFTED GIRL SERIES Magical Miri: Gifted Girls Book One Bewitching Belle: Gifted Girls Book Two Nowhere Nara: Gifted Girls Book Three Clever Chloe: Gifted Girls Book Four Fatal Freya: Gifted Girls Book Five For Alana and Ryelee, and their ever bright futures . “Failure is unimportant. It takes courage to make a fool of yourself.” — Charlie Chaplin This series was inspired by my crazy life and/or the wonderful, magickal influences upon my life (friends and family). I suspect there’s something in each individual story that needs to be read, or I wouldn't have been pushed to write them the way that I have. I hope you enjoy the adventure! I invite you to visit The Gifted Girls Series on Facebook, where they share witchy humor, spell tips, and more. https://www.facebook.com/GiftedGirlsBookSeries/ Introduction By Belle It’s the start of 1997, and square pizza is a thing. So are body and face glitter, fuzzy keychains, troll pencil toppers, and butterfly hair clips. Cell phones no longer look like bricks, but I have yet to get one. Mom says my personal pager will suffice. I told her, the day will come when pay phones will be difficult to find. She doesn’t believe me, but give it time; she’ll see. I want to rock the “Rachel” hairstyle like Tyra Banks, but no matter what I do, my hair tends to resemble an untamed Diana-Ross do. So… I decided to stop fighting the inevitable, and I now own the look. When it comes to fashion, I’m generally not at the front edge of the trends, but I do enjoy my chunky hush puppies. They are rather comfy. My current favorite television shows are now Sabrina the Teenage Witch, and 3rd Rock from the Sun. Both are fun and rather magical. Last year hosted one of the best movies with Will Smith in Independence Day. I have high hopes for him in his upcoming flick, Men in Black. Globally, there are a few things worthy of note. Prince Charles and Princess Diana are getting a divorce. Clinton has been re-elected as president. OJ Simpson is on trial again. This time in civil court. NASA launched the Mars Pathfinder, intended for the planet for which it is named. Some sort of mad cow disease has England scrambling. And scientists claim to have cloned their first sheep. Personally, I’m not so sure that last one is a good thing. Good or bad, this is definitely going to be a year for the history books. Chapter One Spices and herbs swirl through the air, around my head, and slam into the paper. The tangy scent of pepper tickles my nose, and sentences magickly scribble across the once blank page. “Did I just catch you cheating on your homework?” Mom limps into the room and makes a beeline for the coffeemaker, her cane thumping against the linoleum floor. “Um, no?” Open herb jars set upon the kitchen wall shelves rattle and wiggle, settling into place, and any remaining spices drop into the containers. I shove my homework paper into my open science book and slam it shut. “Is it really cheating if the magick pulled the information from my own subconscious?” “Is that what was happening?” Mom asks. Since we moved from the French Quarter to Algiers two years ago, I’ve been allowed to explore my kitchen magick and grow my own witch’s garden without complaint from Mom. I’m not sure if my magickal exploration freedom is because of her guilt, her depression, or a change in attitude spurred by all that happened to force the move. Prior to Algiers, we lived with Mom’s boyfriend, Caleb, until he tried to kill us. Trapped us in the house and set it ablaze. His goal was to burn us alive. Evil. The place, his place, was destroyed, and the man, arrested. Made quite the headline, but he didn’t get us. Oh no. We overcame. “Yes,” I say, insisting the answers written are my own and not given freely of the universe. Mom pushes the button on the coffee machine, setting it to brew. A chorus of hisses and plops rolls into action, and she turns to face me. “Why wasn’t your work completed over the weekend?” “You know why,” I blurt. “I was busy helping the school finish their float entry.” “Mardi Gras?” Mom leans her cane against the counter and pulls a coffee cup from the cabinet. “Duh.” “You don’t need to be so rude.” “Sorry,” I say, lowering my head. On the table, beside my science book, lies a fancy five-by-eight wedding invitation. My sister’s wedding invitation. A lifetime commitment, spending the rest of your days with one person, the same one person. It’s a forever sentence. One I doubt I’ll ever be able to make. I tap the edge of the card with my fingernail and send
