Magus Bookstore Novels & Stories

Greta and Gabby made their way to Page Turner’s Bookstore just down the street from the Blue Moon Inn. Once inside the warmth of the large shop, Greta was surprised to see a bright modern shop, which included not only a metaphysical section, but my children’s section, too. With soft upbeat music playing in the background, it didn’t take long to find the shopkeeper chatting away to a rather wild looking dog by a fireplace.

He had a vague power of witchcraft on him, indicating that the person was a warlock. Maggie took a glance at the warlock with a victorious expression and said, “No, you people have made a mistake. My confidence comes from this!” She took out a note out of her bag and put it on top of the coffee table in front of everyone. It was an IOU. It was written on it that Henry Assex had borrowed money from Maggie… After the few people looked closely at it, they were shocked beyond words. They could only see a very long string of zeros, with the number “1” at the front.

It's huge and looks like something out of an old gothic novel. Written on the fence in old script is Blackwood Manor. "I think we came to the right place," I whisper, leaning into Trey. The whole thing is creeping me out. Is this where Colt is? I can feel a power coming from the building itself, and it is not happy and bright. No. This is a dark and heavy magic, and I'm guessing at least part of it is for concealment. But they can't hide this from me. Trey nods his head and pulls our this phone.

The earlier I start, the closer I’ll get to leaving this place. I struggle to stand, my legs stiff from hours of sitting in one spot. “Ah,” I cry out softly, finding the light switch and turning it on. Damn. My eyes widen in disbelief. This place looks like an ancient library. The room is small, it belongs to a child, but the aesthetics tell me that the child studied endlessly. My fingers trail across the shelves, flipping through books one after another. These are limited editions, the rare copies. Then my eyes fall on a purple-colored book, and my mouth falls open. “My God!” I exclaim, lifting it carefully. “The Book of Magic.”

-Karen- Over the next four days, Conor had meetings after the drills so Joanne and Bart, when they could, stayed with me. I had managed to talk Joanne into going with me to our library, so I could read up on the Mage books. I figured since I had so much time, I could brush up on the spell portions of my magic even if I couldn’t cast anything. I miss my magic. I feel like I’ll never use it again at this rate. She found a book on Mazifikian culture and decided to read it while I studied. So many spells and all for different things. Memory suppression… Maybe I could figure out a way to forget the bad things that have happened. I could change my hair to a different color too! What color should I

my tone was laced with surprise and expectancy as I shot the question. "Go on ahead!" he gestured for me to walk further and look around. I looked around, reading the genres and titles of the book. I stopped in front of the 'The Ancient Mages' section which was a little too upward on the shelf than I could reach. "Is there a stool I could borrow? I want a book from up there" I looked at the warlock. "Let me help you out. Which one would you like?" he asked. "Anything which you think I'd like!" I replied.

We arrive to a very pretty coffee shop named Beehive, with an even bigger bookstore next to it. "Wait! This is Dean's bookstore," I gasp when my two functioning brain cells finally connect. Madison nods and takes a seat at one of the little tables outside, "Wait, wait, let me take a look." I walk to the bookstore and look in wonder, it's even bigger and fancier than he described. I don't walk into the bookstore, I just look from the outside like a creep. I can see big posters of a Tundra Magazine, one of them is a huge poster of my mom looking like a goodess, with her blonde hair blowing and her white gown looking like it was painted onto her body.

But cross her, hurt someone she loves, and the toy poodle turns into Cerberus. “I’m going shopping later today,” she says, coming back behind the counter and pulling a notebook out of the drawer under the register so she can start making a list. “Shopping” is code for she’s traveling to another coven to purchase magical supplies. “Do you need anything?” “Black salt and mandrake root,” I tell her quietly, eyeing the couple who went right to the romance section. We’re the only independent bookstore in the area, and after the last big chain retailer went out of business, things really picked up for us.