Practicing wiccan Regina Moon is starting over in the tiny town of Groves, Arkansas, hoping her New Age shop will succeed despite her friends objections. A ritual-type killing of a local man transforms the quiet little community into 1692 Salem, with all eyes on her, and has the sheriff, Trace Langston not only trying to solve a murder but disbanding a mob of angry townspeople hell-bent on burning her at the stake. In all the upheaval, a cold case, sealed within a circle, is unearthed and an evil no one knew existed revealed.


Regina wiped the paint splatters off her cheek with her index finger, then continued to roll the sage color onto the living room wall. Already, she felt much calmer than she had that afternoon. The whole dead raven incident had her on edge. Someone was trying to send a warning.

But why?

And who? Becky Riverside? Or was it someone else?

When the roller ran out of paint, she plopped it into the pan and rotated it back and forth. Maybe by the time she finished all four walls, she’d have a renewed sense of serenity.

Her cell buzzed. She discarded the roller altogether and raced for the phone. “Regina,” she spoke into the mouthpiece.

“Reggie.” Her best friend sounded upset.

What was wrong? Had Rod somehow found out where she was? The thought had her heart thumping hard. “What’s the matter, Tiah?”

“I had to call. I got a bad feeling. Are you all right?”

Relief washed over her as Regina shifted her balance from one foot to the other. “Yes, but something odd happened today.”


“A flock of dead ravens were found next to my place.”

On the other end, she heard a gasp. Clearly Regina hadn’t exaggerated the significance of the birds. It meant trouble. What kind, though, she wasn’t sure.

“I don’t like this, Regina. Let me come stay with you for a while. Just until we know what’s going on.”

Regina inhaled, then let out a shaky breath. “I don’t think that’d be wise. Rod is probably watching you. I can’t chance him finding me.”

“I’m worried, Reggie. With me there, we could at least perform a protection spell.”

“Let me think about it. Right now I’m trying to get my business off the ground, and I wish this hadn’t happened. What if they find out I’m Wiccan and think I killed those birds with some kind of dark magic? It’d be Salem all over again.”

“You know how I felt about you choosing such a small town to move to. Everyone is so close-minded. They think Wiccan and assume something bad. Most don’t understand the difference between white and black magic.”

A loud crash had Regina whirling around just in time to see a rock skid across the hardwood floor. She looked up and found a gaping hole in the picture window and glass scattered all over everything. “I have to go, Tiah. I’ll call you as soon as I can.” She tossed her phone onto the table, wondering what to do.

Her focus fell on the large stone. Something was written on it … in red paint.

She moved closer, and the words she made out stopped her heart.