Dr. Seuss, Springfield, And The Kettle Of Bronze

I’m a mortal priestess, but a Tartarus death curse is killing me. The only cure is a Golden Apple from Olympus, which blooms once a century to purify a soul. But my soulmate—Zale, son of Poseidon—snatched my apple away. He fed it to my sister, Melora, just to heal a minor magical burn. I abandoned my final treatments at the Temple of Apollo. Instead, I drank a vial of Lethe poison, laced with water from the Styx. It silences all pain. The price? In three days, my soul will turn to ash. No afterlife. No reincarnation. In my final three days on earth, I let everything go. I gave my Healing Temple to Melora. My parents, the high priests, smiled in relief. When Zale drew the Blade of Olympus to sever our soulmate bond, I gladly offered my heart's blood. He stroked my cheek and praised my “generosity.” As if I’d finally learned my lesson. I pushed my son, Philon, toward Melora and told him to call her “Mom.” He cheered and threw himself into her arms, crying out that her lullabies were sweeter. I gave up everything. None of them even noticed I was dying. They just looked at me proudly. "Our Kressa has finally learned her place." But I can't help wondering... when I fade into stardust forever, will they even remember me?

The Weight of Gold is a trilogy about what happens after the meet-cute — not the falling, but the building. It follows Eleanor across seven years as she trades inherited splendor for a chosen life: a small house, a workshop full of sawdust and linseed oil, a diner owner who becomes her true north, and a town that becomes her home. But it is also the story of the people pulled into the orbit of a life genuinely lived. A cousin who arrives hollowed-out by the wrong marriage and finds her footing in native plants and honest argument. A mother who mistakes the form of a life for the life itself, and slowly, carefully, begins to dismantle that mistake. A sculptor who needs wood that speaks. A town that goes better for being attended to. At its heart, this is a story about craft — the craft of furniture, of restoration, of building institutions and relationships and selves. About the difference between the shape a life is supposed to take and the shape it wants to take. About a word Daniel uses for bleached wood: ghost — not white, not absent, but elsewhere, waiting for the right conditions to return. Eleanor spends seven years learning that ghost is not an ending. It is the beginning of something better.

“…I’m the only one who gets to treat you like that, Pearce. You are mine, and I do not take too kindly to those who want to share in what’s mine…” ****************************************************************** Anthony Pearce and Blake Lindell have been locked in a feud for as long as they can remember. The spark that ignited their rivalry? Well, that depends on which side of the clay you ask. You’d think their parents’ constant meddling or the time they spend together on the basketball court would help smooth things over, but nope—this relationship remains stubbornly unshaped. Everything changes, though, when Blake is forced to ditch the court and take up pottery—Anthony’s territory, where he’s the undisputed “King of Clay.” Now, tasked with the mission of getting Blake up to speed before graduation, Anthony has to spend even more time in close quarters with his rival. Will they be able to sculpt their fractured friendship back into a masterpiece, or is their bond too cracked and brittle to repair? And when a buried secret surfaces about the rumor that shattered Anthony’s ninth-grade year, will it soften their hardened hearts or leave them shattered beyond the kiln’s fix? One thing’s for sure—things are about to get messy.

The Good Witch was born unlike her family. She wants to help people and she finds a few friends that help her along the way. Each adventure is a new challenge. She hopes to one day free her family from the curse they placed on themselves. For these are the stories of the Good Witch.

The Eze (king) of the Afugiri community Eze Obinna was suffering from a curse from a wizard who visited his throne to invoke the curse on him. The wizard was paid by Arinze, a rival to the throne to lay the curse on the king (Eze) because it is only when the Eze is dead that he stands a chance to be enthroned. This beloved Eze Obinna of Afugiri can only be saved by a magic bean that can only be found in a forbidden forest. The curse on the Eze will take his life in 30 days if the magic beans are not retrieved from the forest and administered to him. The Eze was already dying; his body is swelling-up as he is losing consciousness daily. If nothing is done, he’ll be truly gone in 30 days. Before getting to this evil forest, you must pass through the river where Mermaids come out at the bank to hunt for humans, Bushbabies that walks at night with mats, The land of Silence if you make noise because of what you see, you’ll be killed, the land of ‘Don’t look up where the monster that flies above you won’t spare you once you look at it, the land of Lust where your utmost desire will be presented to you and if you fall for it, your soul will be whisked away, the coven of witches where witches will gladly suck blood bloodd if you don’t know how to overcome and so many other strange-lands that require a set of virtue to cross. Brave warriors must be summoned from the 11 clans of Afugiri, these warriors must not just be brave physically, and they must also be strong in character because battling the spirits and crossing those strange lands with strange beings requires virtues.

My husband's first love was scalded by boiling water. To punish me, he forced me into a customized steamer half my height, turned the heat to its highest setting, and sealed me inside. "I'll make you feel the pain Jessica suffered a thousand times over!" Trapped in the suffocating space, my breath came in ragged gasps. Heat seared my skin, and my body felt as though it would melt. I sobbed, begging him for mercy. "Please! I'm going to die!" But he didn't look back. Holding his beloved in his arms, he walked away. He even locked the door after he left the room. "Don't worry, you won't die. This is the only way you'll understand Jessica's pain." Despair swallowed me whole. I screamed, my voice raw, but the boiling water beneath me splashed up, scalding my skin, stealing even the strength to cry. He left the country with Jessica that same night. A week passed before he finally remembered my existence. "That wretched woman must have learned her lesson by now. Let her out." What he didn't know was that the water had long since boiled away, the heat had faded, and inside the steamer, my corpse lay rotting—swarmed with maggots.