Fiction Books About The Salem Witch Trials Novels & Stories

Magnusson told looking at the window. “I can understand them being shy about coming out to the public. They have stepped into the light before, and it didn’t end well.” Dimitri told them he could recall the Salem Witch Trials and the horrors the women went through. The deaths weren’t pretty, and most of them weren’t even witches. “No, it didn’t. Many women and men died. I still can’t believe such things happened,” Majesta spoke in almost a whisper. Magnusson squeezed her leg under the table, letting her know he was there for her.

Hard telling how long it would take to find what I was looking for. The pages of the grimoire were incredibly old and stiff as I carefully paged through. Some of the spells dated back to the fifteen hundreds, before the Salem Witch Trials. But it was known that the people they had executed weren't witches. In my short time in the supernatural world, even I knew that there was no way to catch a witch who didn't want to be caught. He or she could easily transport anywhere they wanted and escape. In the grimoire, there were spells of all kinds. One spell was for making the crops grow well. There was a killing spell with a warning not to use it lightly and definitely not in the heat of passion.

“Why would there be anything about my scar?” “Not your scar. You know how good I am at cracking the secret ones. And the older witches like to gossip about back in their day. Especially when they come in contact with another witch or being that they’ve fought in battle with or did something crazy with. You know tall tales and all.” she laughed. “I guess it couldn’t hurt. After Ember and I do the memory thing though.” I offered. “So. How did Jamerson take you being mated?”

“This isn’t what I was expecting at all.” “What is it?” Everly asked, her stomach tightening into a coil. “Well, we all thought that she had taken the book because it contained some sort of a way for her to reverse what Jack had done to make you into a wolf shifter, but it doesn’t. At least, that’s not what she was looking at.” “What was she looking at then?” Everly asked, not sure she even wanted to know at this point. “She was looking at… the similarities between the werewolf hunts and the witch hunts, and the means by which the villagers back in the time that this book was written went about putting each of those groups to death. This page is all about what was useful against each group.”

Like a VIP. She looked through the shelf, trying to see which book to start with and for some strange reason one particular book kept calling to her. “The Anthropology and History of Witches.” It was boldly written on the spine of the book and was very difficult to ignore. And as she extended her hand to grab the book, she felt unsure and scared. Almost like she was committing sacrilege by simply being curious about those creatures. Her mind raced back to the witch that was burned infront of the mansion grounds.

Caitlin began to read, and was so taken by it, she decided to read it aloud to Caleb. “Listen to this,” she said. “‘In Salem, in 1692, a large group of teenage girls suddenly fell ill. Most of them lapsed into a fit of hysteria, and screamed out that they had been attacked by witches. Many of these girls went so far as to name the witches who were afflicting them. “Because their illnesses were so mysterious, and because many of these girls died suddenly and there was no other explanation for it, the townspeople fell into a frenzy. They hunted down the people accused of witchcraft.

Omerta’s POV Be it werewolves, witches, or wise ones, the Salem trials, or the story of the Pagan Gods, as much as I tried to internalize these things, they all seemed to belong in a fantasy novel, which I am sure would have been a good read, and not in the real world. I had just adjusted to the idea of werewolves as blessed ones, as now there were these wise ones, and then there was one more type of blessed ones. How many supernatural creatures were there? Were all our childhood stories based on some reality?

I said pulling three thick books from my bag and slamming them on the table. He rolled his eyes and looked at me with a bored expression. "You think the answer is in some musty old books?" he asked. "Trust me, I've looked." "Just listen," I ordered. "I spent hours in the Alpha's library trying to find something...anything about witchcraft. After scrawling through almost every book I was beginning to think I was going mad but then I realised something. The books I was looking through were stories and historical facts about the pack- not top secret information concerning magic. A long and exhausted story involving a thorough search for a key no bigger than my thumbnail later I had access to th

After the boys had left my room, I went through my bag and pulled out my favorite book, Night Flame, by Catherine Hart. I sat back in my chair by the window, prepared to spend the rest of the afternoon reading when a shiver ran down my spine. I jumped out of my seat and spun around to see a pair of yellow eyes glowing in the corner of the room. As those eyes drew closer to me, I realized that it was Simon, the fae that came to warn me the other day.

"What are the others?" Bella asked, shoving the book back in its place. "This one is a seventeenth-century guide to vampires, written by William H. Winters," he said, holding up a large black tome. "He was one of the most influential members of the Family and largely responsible for a little debacle some folks call the Salem Witch Trials. Or, as her teacher probably likes to call him, Great Uncle Bill." Bella was lightheaded again, and her temples were pounding, but there was no vampire mind control or mark to blame it on now. Only horror. "We have to get out of here," she said, staggering to her feet.