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Sever the Circle

Life for me and mine was set. Wood Women, witches to many, had a cycle. There were only two Wood Women alive at a time, a mother and her daughter. As the daughter beget her own, her mother would cease to be. But that wasn’t the only circle that justified our life.

The town was ours and we belonged to them. The crops flourished and the seasons changed, as was our want. We wove the tapestry of the town, trimmed the frayed threads, added the new ones, removed those that had faded, and kept the picture beautiful and trapped within a bubble of our making. They knew only of which we wanted them to, no more or less,.

As stories are often about a change, a disruption, so is this one. The circle of the lives of the Wood Women, the life of the town, and the sphere we had built to keep it all contained in was challenged, attacked, and eventually severed. There was another darkness in the night, untouched by moon and fire, and it held the secrets that would be our undoing.

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“I am a Wood Woman. One from a long line of Wood Women. We are the forest, from and of, and we are the caretakers of the town. We see and we mend, we care and we tend.”

“I don’t understand.” His eyes were narrowed as he searched my face. As much as he complimented me on my observations, he was a bit keen, himself. “If you are saying what I think you are saying, I am unsure how to proceed.”

“Would you burn me at the stake for healing the sick? For helping women birth babes? For making sure the harvests are good and rains come when needed?”

“No, not for those things.”

“But for other things? Do I sacrifice the young and eat their hearts?” I couldn’t help but laugh, a deeper laugh than I had ever felt any time before. His face was frozen but then cracked, his lips widened into a reluctant smile. “I assure you that all I hunt in the forest is small game, not humans, and that I prefer my meat well cooked. Stews are nice and keep for days.”

“I see. Do you not have a being you pray to, though? An entity that holds your hand and controls your heart and mind?”

“Only myself, Zariah. There are no devils or demons here.”

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Coming Soon: Sever the Circle

Life for me and mine was set. Wood Women, witches to many, had a cycle. There were only two Wood Women alive at a time, a mother and her daughter. As the daughter beget her own, her mother would cease to be. But that wasn’t the only circle that justified our life.

The town was ours and we belonged to them. The crops flourished and the seasons changed, as was our want. We wove the tapestry of the town, trimmed the frayed threads, added the new ones, removed those that had faded, and kept the picture beautiful and trapped within a bubble of our making. They knew only of which we wanted them to, no more or less,.

As stories are often about a change, a disruption, so is this one. The circle of the lives of the Wood Women, the life of the town, and the sphere we had built to keep it all contained in was challenged, attacked, and eventually severed. There was another darkness in the night, untouched by moon and fire, and it held the secrets that would be our undoing.

Coming late Spring 2018, Sever the Circle by Amanda Leanne. A dark tale of witches, will power, and nightmares that are much too real. Will be available on most major ebook retailers and in paperback from Amazon.

Interview on Storyteller

Women in Horror Month is here! I have been featured on S. K. Gregory’s Storyteller Blog today, so if you get a chnce, check it out!

WiHM9 Interviews Amanda Leanne Boyce

 

A bit from the interview:

S.K. Gregory: Why is horror writing important to you?

Amanda Leane: I have an interesting theory about horror and what it does for me. I had a difficult childhood and have dealt with depression and insomnia (mine as well as that of my family) for a good amount of my life. Books became a staple for me at an early age. I learned to read when I was four, thanks to a determined uncle who saw my young fascination for books , and had read my first horror by the second grade. My mother loved Stephen King and Anne Rice, and so those books were quite plentiful. With insomnia, mom would be up late watching horror movies on one of the old random channels that played classics. And so the reading and watching gave me an early introduction, respect and love.
With horror, I feel it is more relatable to life. I’m not, nor ever have been, a fan of happy endings. I feel that if something goes horribly wrong, it can never be completely righted. I also feel that horror can embody issues worse than my experiences and fears, thus giving me proof of a darkness much bleaker than any I have dealt with. When I write horror, I get to control that. I am in control of the darkness. I decide how deep it can go, what it does , if it is able to be overcome and what it will leave behind. I can create worlds worse than any depression I have had and yet at any time I can tilt it another direction.
Horror is also necessary, in my opinion, to show the depths of depravity the human mind is possible to have. It also allows us to indulge in the faux pas aspects of being human in a lawful world without breaking any morality or personal vindications. You can delve into the mind of a cannibal or sympathize with a real monster and its okay. In horror, you can face your fears or bask in the darkness and close the book at the end without changing your place in the world. Horror allows us to confront and embrace so much on our own terms.