Hi everyone,

It’s wonderful to visit Coffee Time Romance for the release of my third Southern Witch novel, Halfway Hexed.  For those not familiar with my Southern Witch series, it’s a blend of paranormal romance, mystery, and action/adventure.

The main character, Tammy Jo Trask, is a young woman who’s descended from a long line of witches, but whom the family magic seems to have skipped. In the first book, Would-Be Witch, Tammy comes into her powers. Unfortunately for her, they don’t work properly, and all her spells go hilariously wrong.

As an author, one of the things I enjoy doing is putting parallel elements in each book to tie them together thematically. For example, in each book, there are spells that go wrong, Tammy learns new things about herself and her love interest, and there’s a magical piece of jewelry that drives the story forward.

In Would-Be Witch, Tammy Jo must recover a family heirloom (a locket) that’s been stolen. In the second Southern Witch novel, Barely Bewitched, Tammy Jo realizes that to survive the deadly spells cast by a fire warlock, she desperately needs to recover a pair of pawned emerald earrings. And in Halfway Hexed, there’s a brooch with attached magic that acts as a catalyst for Tammy’s latest adventure.

Here’s an excerpt from the opening scene of Halfway Hexed where a mysterious package from England has just arrived.

* * *

I took a pair of scissors and carefully opened the box. There was a double layer of bubble plastic, which I unfolded to find a disc-shaped object, heavily wrapped in white foam packing sheets, making it about three inches in diameter. I raised it. Concealed underneath was a folded piece of thick stationery. I lifted the corner to read the note.

Never let it be taken from you. Keep it secret. Keep it safe.

A chill ran down my spine. I turned the paper over. No signature. Nothing written on it besides the three sentences in fancy black script. I flipped up the box flap to look at the label. No return address. I set the note down carefully and returned to the mystery object.

I pulled off the tape and slowly unrolled it. Peeling away layer after layer, I finally uncovered a beautiful antique cameo brooch. It was about two inches tall. The carved white image of a young woman’s profile stood out from the pinkish-red background.

There were flowers tucked into her upswept hair, and she had delicate features, angelic and pretty. The oval rim of the brooch was laced in gold and dotted with the tiniest pearls I’d ever seen. So many precious details. It made me feel like factory-manufactured jewelry ought to be outlawed.

Could Momma or Aunt Melanie have sent it? If so, why hadn’t they written a longer message? And why would they be in England? Or, if it wasn’t from them, who else in the world would have sent it to me?

I reached down to touch it, and a jolt of electricity shot up my arm. My brain seemed to rattle in my skull for a moment and then my vision blurred, the bakery receding.

I staggered, blindly catching myself on the counter just as she appeared. A woman with thick chestnut hair and high cheekbones. Her disheveled clothes, a blouse and skirt, flared out as she ran. I heard her panting breath, the clicking of her heels, and I smelled damp, rain-soaked streets. The haunted look in her wide eyes made my heart contract, and her fear consumed me. I reached out to her, to rescue her, but she went past me and disappeared.

I stood, staring at the spot where she’d been, but there was only black. Trying to catch my breath, I sank shakily to the floor.

Who is she?

The darkness faded, and the bakery reappeared around me. The smell of melted chocolate and baking bread. The ticking of the wall clock that was shaped like a country apron. I shook myself. I was safe at home in Duvall. The girl had been part of a premonition””my first ever. Were they always like that? Yikes. I hoped not.

And who or what had been chasing her? She’d been terrified, running as if her life depended on it. I’d felt what she was feeling. I wasn’t sure if that was normal with psychic visions or not, but it didn’t really matter. Only one thing was important; I had to

find out who she was so I could save her from whoever or whatever was chasing her.

* * *

For a chance to win an autographed copy of the Southern Witch novel of your choice, visit the comments and tell me about a keepsake or piece of jewelry that’s precious to you.

Warm wishes,

Kimberly Frost

http://frostfiction.com/