The beginning

There is something very evil lurking in the woods surrounding Witchwood Estate... Whimsical, "TV" length episodes in an ongoing series. Witches, spells, ghosts, sprites, shape-shifters, wolves and more... For all those young at heart... Equal measure of both Magic and Evil.

Alexandria Santorini learns as a child that she comes from a long line of Harvey witches. Now, as a teenager, Alexandria must say goodbye to Catnip Cottage and the Barnabys, her loving guardians for the last twelve years, and go home to Ferntree Falls to claim her inheritance. Witchwood Estate. The home where she was born and her parents were murdered. Her journey home becomes somewhat sinister, however, when she discovers that there are those who have other plans for her and her new friends…



If you Google the word Prologue, this is what you will find on Wikipedia.

A prologue (Greek πρόλογος prologos, from the word pro (before) and lógos, word) is an opening to a story that establishes the setting and gives background details, often some earlier story that ties into the main one, and other miscellaneous information.

Well, that was what my life kind of felt like. A prologue.

Every day began and ended the same way, as regular as the ticking clock on the wall. You’d think that after twelve years there would have been some kind of evolution to the daily ritual that was my life, but no.

Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t unhappy with my life, not at all. I relished the simplicity of it all... Until that morning. There wasn’t anything particularly different about that morning as I walked down the stairs to meet Olly and Martha Barnaby for breakfast, the clock chiming to announce my six-thirty arrival.

The Barnabys became my legal guardians when my parents died twelve years ago. They were an older couple with rosy cheeks and salt and pepper hair. They’d not been blessed with children of their own, so when I came along at the age of five, they’d welcomed me with open arms and open hearts. The Barnabys were the only family I could remember with any clarity. The blood that ran through our veins may not have been linked, but I loved them with every nerve and fiber of my being.

Chapter 1 – Morning Has Broken

"Pull the curtains, dear," Mr. Barnaby said as Alexandria appeared in the doorway leading into the kitchen. A hand-stitched tapestry hung on the wall above an old wood-fired brick oven. Kitchen, the heart of the home. Alexandria smiled every time she read it, marveling at the simple truth of it. She was going to miss this kitchen, and the people in it.

Alexandria ran her fingertips over the growth chart chronicled in blue pen on the doorframe. On the eve of her birthday, after a luxurious bubble bath scented with lavender and honeysuckle, the Barnabys would line her up against the doorframe. "Head high, little lady," Mr. Barnaby would say as Mrs. Barnaby drew the line and the year above her head. The last year noted, marked her sixteenth birthday.

Alexandria smiled with the memory and sighed.

Mr. Barnaby, attuned to all of Alexandria’s sounds, as was Martha, closed his newspaper on the robust timber counter in the center of the kitchen and looked up at the girl, his face awash with joy. It was no secret to anyone, who took the time to notice, that Alexandria brought nothing but joy to the lives of Mr. and Mrs. Barnaby.

Midnight, the Barnabys’ oversized black cat, wove himself around the elaborately turned chair legs before jumping up onto the old man’s lap. Mr. Barnaby removed the small round spectacles from his nose and rested them on the table; a masterpiece lovingly crafted by his own two hands. He scratched Midnight behind his ears until the animal’s chest vibrated noisily with satisfaction.

Bunches of dried herbs and flowers hung from a rack housing pots and pans overhead, filling the kitchen with the earthy smells of lavender, rosemary, bloodroot, mandrake, wolfsbane, snapdragons and numerous others. The smell of freshly baked herb bread in the oven and brewing tea in the old teapot welcomed Alexandria into the kitchen like a grandmother’s warm embrace. A fresh bowl of white hydrangeas sat in the middle of the table alongside a stack of golden pancakes laden with strawberries and drizzled with fingers of sticky honey from Olly’s beehives in the backyard.

Alexandria looked out over the pretty backyard bordered with a six-foot hedge of dense foliage covered in a marigold rose vine. There was more than an adequate greenhouse, and a herb garden overflowing with herbs, some of which she’d never heard, but she knew well enough, that they had their purposes. Tucked beneath an old oak tree there was an overgrown swing-set covered by a passionfruit vine laden with fist-sized green and purple fruit. Looking at the swing, as overgrown as it was, always brought back a flood of childhood memories that somehow made other memories from Alexandria’s past less painful. A raven fluttered down from Alexandria’s bedroom windowsill and perched itself on the bar suspending vine and swing. It studied her with its beady black eyes through the curtains before she pulled them closed, just as it did every morning, before turning away to preen itself in the early morning rays of golden sunlight.


A fun little book to help you find your inner witch. Recipes, spells, birthstones, witchcraft terminology, candles, flowers, poetry, broom history, animal familiars, tea leaf reading, and more.

In fairy-tales of long ago, witches dressed in flowing black gowns, wore pointy hats, and flew around on broomsticks at night. By the light of the silvery moon they would steal little children from their beds... 
I’m sure some still do, but know this – not all witches have pointy noses, warts and eat small children. Some are just ordinary people, men and women, who happen to believe there is magic in this world. The Witches’ Journal (book 1) is a fun collection of lots of things magical from a coven of whimsical folk. We hope you enjoy the words and pictures contained within these pages. Blessed are those who carry kindness and love in their hearts, for they shall always have magic in their lives! 
I believe, so mote it be.

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