Novels by R.J. Day

Ivy looked at her aunt, her eyebrows furrowed her hands in mid-air as she tried to decide if she wanted to pick up the old leather-bound book. Worn and faded by the clasp that held it shut. It seemed thick and heavy and smelled musty and aged to match how it looked.Ivy lifted the heavy bound book a small groan as she lifted the large book out of the trunk and walked it to a table not far from them. Freda walked alongside her watching her eyes scanning, observing her every reaction, a soft knowing smile upon her face.Ivy unclasped and opened the old book. She felt a wave of energy pass onto her, her hands trembling, her eyes widened, and her heart raced. There on the first page was writing scrawled in cursive.I, Joshua Cecil Owen begin this grimoire to pass down knowledge and spells to future generations. January 26th, 1510.“Aunt Freda… What is this?”Freda smiles warmly at her niece. She opens it to a spell her eyes look between the spell and Ivy.“Our history, how we started o

Marie Elizabeth Owens climbed off the sailboat and stood on the shore of the island that was to be her new home, her fresh start. The Island was thick with vegetation and the sky was a crisp and deep blue that you see in the paintings in the art galleries she heard about in letters from her husband’s sister. Sinking into the pale cool sand from her wight against the loose ground. Her movements directed her toward a small shack where a man stood. His grey eyes were bold and devilish. Something about then rang to her as untrustworthy. The witch trials were murder hidden in lies. Melas Isles witch trials were still running hidden underground in the old church tunnels. It wasn’t that this was common knowledge, but Marie had lost her family to the continuing trials. Her mother, her sisters and her husband. Warlocks didn’t get accused like the witches, often surviving but Maries husband Johnas took her place as an accused to save her and their unborn child. The church had a brainwashed

Ivy was still in disbelief at William claiming that witchcraft was real and was used daily. Her mind raced at what he had meant. She walked through the gate of her aunt Freda’s house with a sand brick and green window framed home matched with green fencing and large bushed of various shrubs and a greenhouse filled with a multitude of plants from what ivy could see from the spot she stood. She wandered up to the door unsure if she should knock or just walk in. Her dad’s family had what they called an open-door policy meaning they never knocked and always just waltzed in without a care. Their home was her home, and it was comforting to know she was always welcome. Her dads’ parents and brother accepted Ivy as Dylan’s child too.She heard of kids her were adopted or unions not being accepted and ivy was truly blessed to never have to experience that kind of heart destroying rejection. She always thought it weas so odd to treat the child in such a way when the kid did choose who adopted

Lillian knelt on the ground. Her pregnant belly was getting bigger. She felt the weight of the child growing in her womb. Lillian also felt her power double, a clear sign that the baby that grew in her was powerful too. The wavelength of the baby's power wasn't like Lillian's, it was closer to Williams and that unsettled her, she wasn’t sure why. There were some of the wavelengths that matched her own and she hoped that nurturing the child right would make the child closer to Lillian in nature. There was a long past between Lillian and William. It spans as far back to the age of six. In her heart she knew he wasn't exactly a good warlock, one that often delved into the darker magic. Not like hexes or banishment or a light curse. Something that made his wavelength low and dark. His aura was murky and hard to read, filled with images of death. She wasn’t sure what she had seen and sometimes it was loss mistranslated, corrupted through the person’s pain. She often tried to get to know a

The inside of the car had a smooth leather interior and William sat in a navy-blue suit. It was pressed to perfection and his crisp white shirt contrasted with the blue hue of the expensive suit that William wore. William was looking at his daughter, a small smile playing on his lips like a cat that caught the mouse as it was about to play. The look made Ivy shudder. Her skin pricked, and the air felt heavy and felt like it was buzzing. It was a strange feeling in the car with them, one she didn't quite understand and didn’t like.She looked at the streets they passed with herbal shops and boutiques, fruit markets and other small places to fulfill the various needs of the people that lived on Mayfair Island. The whole Island was relaxed and self-sufficient, it seemed that people rarely left Mayfair and Ivy wondered why so many seemed hell-bent on staying on this Island. What was it about this place that kept them content to stay here their whole life? Ivy couldn't help but wonder why s

Jack sat in his apartment in its dim lighting staring at the laptop screen with open case files and frustration etched across his face. He ran his hand through his chestnut brown wavy hair and his deep brown eyes focused on the location of the little girls' disappearances at Shoreside city park. The descriptions of the three girls were in front of him. Jack found himself rereading them hoping something would click into place. Surely a similarity to something they were last doing could be a clue as to where these girls ended up. Yes, they were all in the park with their mothers, but there had to be more. Honestly, Jack knew the only clue that these girls were at the park in the first place, apart from all three mothers reporting them being taken, personal items of the girls were found: a shoe being Anna's. Drew's scarf and Leah's watch. He wasn't sure if these were left as calling cards or if the girls or the girls lost them in the struggle, but the whole thing didn't sit right with det