SECTION III - STORY TIME

Abby - Mystickally
Mystic Moon - ~Rain
Michael and Beth Chronicles - Selene SilverWind
Natural Magick, By John Michael Greer - Review by Susan Davis
Raven's Rants - Calissta (AKA Raven)
Wiccan Warrior, By Kerr Cuhulain - Review by Susan Davis
Dream World - Morning Glory
My Friend The Tree, Chapter 5 - " T "
They Were Only Human - Morning Glory
Hot Chocolate for the Mystical Teenage Soul, By Arielle Ford - Reviewed by ~Rain 
Meagan's Lammas - Kathryn Dyer

Abby
By Mystically

In the darkness, Abby wandered aimlessly, oblivious to her surroundings. She walked calmly - uncharacteristic for the state of drunkenness that she was in - and remarkably balanced down the dimly lighted boardwalk along the beach. She had no idea where she was or what she was doing. She just walked, without a single thought going through her head. Suddenly, Abby stopped when she heard a woman's scream. Cautiously, she edged towards the sound. Once she was close, she got a very good look at the source of the scream; a girl around her age, slumped over, face down in the sand, heaving with uncontrollable sobs. Abby started toward her when a pair of strong hands abruptly grabbed her from behind, covered her mouth to prevent any screaming, and then dragged her underneath the boardwalk.

As Abby struggled to break free, she noticed that the guy holding her had two buddies with him, and one of them was running toward the other girl. Finally, Abby managed to turn herself around and face her attacker. All she could see were his deep green eyes and strands of his dark brown hair.

"If you quit struggling, you won't get hurt," he said.

Abby nodded a slow yes and he carefully removed his hand from her mouth. He held her down for a few moments before releasing one of his hands to unbutton his pants. Abby seized the opportunity by spitting into his eyes and biting him in the nose. Then when he was completely distracted by the pain, Abby kneed him as hard as she could and quickly struggled to her feet.

Unfortunately by the time she got up, the two other guys were coming towards her. Abby quickly ran for the boardwalk and screamed for help, but there was absolutely nobody around to hear her cries. Frantically, Abby searched her surroundings and found a glass bottle in the sand. She picked it up by the neck, smashed it on the ground, and then headed straight for the men with the jagged remnant. The man who had initially grabbed her lunged for her. Abby slashed at his face. The other took Abby's threats very seriously and ran off, dragging both of his fallen buddies with him. They ran for their car in the parking lot beside the beach and peeled away, leaving tire marks on the cement.

The danger passed, Abby was suddenly overcome with emotion and fell forward in tears. After several moments of uncontrollable weeping, she looked up to see the other girl's tear-stained face and an outstretched hand. Abby took her hand and together they silently walked up to the boardwalk to sit on the nearby bench.

The girl's shaky voice asked, "Are you OK?"

Abby nodded yes, then the girls sat silently, looking over the ocean.

"Are you OK?" Abby wondered.

Suddenly the girl started to sob again, so Abby continued her silent reverie of the calming waves.

After another few minutes, the girl said,

"Ben."

"What?"

"His name is Ben. T-the guy that grabbed you. And the others were Steve and Colin. B-Ben was my boyfriend."

Abby searched the girl's eyes for any reason why she would be with a guy like Ben, but she looked just as hurt and baffled as Abby - probably more.

"Did he --?" Abby asked.

"Yes."

A few more silent moments went by before Abby suggested that they both go to the hospital and police. The girl adamantly refused and begged Abby not to tell anyone and to stay with her a while longer.

"You can report them for attacking you, but please don't tell about me."

Abby was confused as to why the girl wouldn't want to report a rape, but sympathetically agreed to her request.

"I-I'm Cari-lynn."

Abby gave a tentative smile and responded, "I'm Abby."

Cari-lynn nodded and focused her gaze at the ocean's waves again. Abby's eyes started to glaze over when Cari-lynn suddenly announced, "I saw you at the Pagan rally. T-that's why they attacked you, ya know."

"Are you --?"

Cari-lynn nodded yes. "`Been practicing for 7 years. Ben never agreed with it. Not like he's a devout Christian or anything. He just likes to oppose me."

"Why-"

"-do I put up with it? I dunno. I loved him. I loved the persona he was before."

"Before WHAT?"

Cari-lynn went on to explain that their relationship had started off wonderfully. Ben had been a sweet, kind, gentle, caring and understanding person, but two months into their relationship, it all started to change. Ben became very possessive. He called her ugly because she refused to cut her long red hair. He said she was stupid because she didn't bring home the right brand of juice from the grocery store. The most confusing of all was Ben's insistence that Cari-lynn was fat, yet he tried to force her into constantly eating.

"I'm a hopeless romantic. I fell hard." Cari explained with a shrug.

Abby couldn't understand it at all. Cari-lynn was a fragile little thing - not at all anything that Ben has said she was. Underneath the frightened expression on her face and the bags under her eyes, Abby saw a person that she would normally envy for having such natural beauty.

Abby suddenly realized just how sober she had become. The dose of reality was just too much for her. She had wanted to drown her sorrows in the alcohol, and now she wished that she could have another drink.

Abby wasn't sure how long she and Cari had laid on the beach together just talking and listening to the waves crash against the shore, but they were both suddenly very aware of the sun rising above the ocean. They both giggled, then helped each other to their feet. Somehow, Abby convinced Cari to go with her to the hospital, so together they went for the nearest emergency room. Abby was checked out and given a clean bill of health, so she decided to wait for her new friend. A nurse tapped her on the shoulder and smiled.

"Are you Abigail Meyers?"

The nurse explained that Shaene had been searching for her at every local hospital all night and leaving a full description of her all over town. Abby promised to contact Shaene and thanked the nurse, then sat back down in the waiting area for Cari-lynn.

Abby started to doze off again when she was suddenly lifted up off of her seat and swung around.

"We have been looking for you all night!" Shaene screamed. "Are you OK? What are you doing here? Are you OK?"

Abby laughed and gave Shaene a big hug. "You said that already, and yes I am fine!"

Kat and Cal came running from around the corner. After the initial excitement of finally finding Abby (and in good health!) they began questioning her about where she had been all night. Abby explained that it was a long story and that she would explain everything after she got some sleep.

Kat, Shaene and Cal exchanged worried looks, and reluctantly agreed. They were headed out the door when Abby remembered about Cari-lynn. She ran back to the nurses' station and asked about her.

"She left a few minutes ago."

"Well, did you happen to see if she left with anybody?"

"No, Ma'am. She left alone."

Confused, Abby rejoined her friends and headed home.

Abby spent a week looking for Cari-lynn and worried that she had went back to Ben, or worse, turned up dead. The only thing she knew about Cari was her name, she was a witch and was at the rally, and Abby could only assume that she was a student at the college as well.

It was like the Goddess decided to start granting her wishes when Abby unexpectedly spotted Cari going into the music building at school. Abby followed her and found out that she was late for an orchestra rehearsal. Cari-lynn took out her oboe and quickly set up her instrument. Abby watched and listened to the orchestra rehearse. Cari seemed to be full of life when she played her oboe: the complete opposite person that she was the night at the beach.

After the rehearsal was over, Abby approached Cari. Cari looked up at her, smiled, gave her a hug and asked her to go out for coffee with her. Abby agreed, and soon they were off to the nearest coffee shop.

Abby learned that Cari-lynn Atkins was her age and came from a very musical family. Her mother was a violist with the Boston Symphony and taught at the New England Conservatory. Her younger brother played the upright bass and her father was a pianist. She had 5 dogs and 3 cats back at home that she missed dearly. She also graduated as her high school's Valedictorian and chose music over med school because she loved the music of Gustav Mahler too much to pass up any opportunity to play his music.

Abby also learned that Cari had met Ben during a rehearsal. Ben played the clarinet and also came from a musical family. The day after the attack, Cari had gotten a restraining order against Ben and so far had managed to stay away from him. Abby was relieved to hear that her new friend was safe.

Cari asked about Abby's life, so they got to talk about Shaene and the night at the beach, when he and her friends had spent hours searching for her. Then Cari asked about the rally.

"Are you still going to speak at the rally? I mean, after everything that happened I wasn't sure that you'd still want to."

Abby sighed real heavy and answered, "I don't know."

"Want to know what I think?" and without waiting for Abby's response, Cari went on. "Just do it. Rub it in that guy's face that you're a bigger person and that's why you'll speak on his behalf anyways. Make the guy feel guilty."

Abby smiled. Cari was right; She should just go through with it. Ignore Greg altogether and focus on the reasons why she got involved in the first place.

Abby sighed, "The thing is that I'm new to Witchcraft and Wicca. I don't know that I can really contribute much."

"Abby, I don't think that matters too much. You call yourself a Pagan because you believe in certain things, right? No one knows *everything*. Just stick to what you know and believe, don't try to show off and you'll be fine. Most Pagan beliefs ultimately have the same roots. For obvious reasons I think."

Abby could tell that she had found a deep and lasting friend in Cari-lynn Atkins.

"Hey, why don't we do a ritual together?" Cari suggested. "Are you doing anything now?"

Abby said that she was free, so they headed off. Abby had no idea where they were going, but followed Cari anyway. Suddenly she realized they were headed straight for the beach.

"Cari, are you sure you want to be here?"

"I am not going to let that man take away my most sacred place to go! Now, come on!"

Cari grabbed Abby by her arm and led her towards the center of the beach, far enough so that all they could see for miles was sand and water.

Cari pulled out a small box filled with small candles, some matches and a few sticks of incense. Cari explained that she always carried her "emergency stash" with her where ever she went. Cari laid out her throw rug and set up a single white candle and a stick of incense.

"So what are we going to do?" Abby wondered.

Cari explained that they were going to do a simple ritual to help her decide on what she should do. She lit the candle and started burning the stick of Opium incense. Cari went on to explain that all they were going to do is meditate. Cari was going to show Abby how to contact her spirit guide. "The last time I tried to help someone contact their spirit guide for the very first time, he tried to kill it. People assume if it's scaly and hisses, then it's a venomous snake. Well, it was a snake but it was far from harmful."

Abby laughed, and they proceeded right into the ritual. They both closed their eyes and just as Abby started to "get high" off of the fumes from the incense, Cari said,

Spirit Guide whom we hold so dear,
Make it so our minds are clear.
Come to us in our sacred place,
Help us with the decisions we face.
Yay Spirit Guide!

Abby tried to suppress her laughter but gave up.

"I figure having a little humor in every thing you do makes it all just a little bit more personalized and adds a bit of yourself into it. I've found it works better for me." Cari-lynn explained and giggled. "Now, just clear your mind of everything and relax. Close your eyes and focus..."

Abby must have dozed off, because when she woke up, both she and Cari were laying on opposite sides of the makeshift altar. Cari was still asleep and the candle and incense both had burnt out long ago. Abby waited for her friend to wake up and gazed out toward the ocean. The sun had just started to set when Cari finally awoke.

"Well?" Cari asked. "What did you see?"

Abby thought for a bit before answering, "Nothing."

"What do you mean 'nothing'? There had to be something."

Abby looked confused, so Cari tried to explain, "Sometimes it takes a while for your spirit guide to appear to you. Maybe your guide isn't ready to be seen or maybe you're not ready to see it. But it'll almost always leave some kind of a message to you. Maybe not in so many words, but ... well, how do you feel? Calmed? Relaxed? Decisive?"

"I'm definitely calmer. It feels like I haven't slept that well in years."

Cari looked pleased with herself, but probed for some more information.

Frustrated Abby sighed, "I just wish I had met my spirit guide!"

Cari laughed and started to gather her things. "Like I said, this is a very personal thing. Maybe your guide doesn't want to reveal itself in front of anybody other then you. Just give it time. Keep trying on your own. I promise it'll show."

Abby got to her feet then started to help Cari with the rest of the items lying around.

Abby had never felt so refreshed in her life. She felt very calm and at peace. She smiled to herself and realized that there was no way she would be able to keep quiet during the duration of the rally. She decided that she wouldn't let Greg Stokton stop her from speaking her mind, even if it means she'll inevitably be defending him. If Cari could attempt a life after being raped, Abby felt her problems were ridiculous comparatively. She could see in Cari-lynn's eyes that she was trying so hard to move on with her life. Abby also knew that Cari was trying to shove her feelings about that night away. Abby had decided that if that was the way that Cari-lynn needed to function in order to heal, then so be it. When she seemed ready, then Abby would talk to her. In the mean time, Abby would just be the friend that Cari could lean on, and she would let Cari be her rock throughout the rally. Together they would help each other get through some rough times.

They walked through the beach in silence, content in the knowledge that everything would be OK as long as they had at least one friend to lean on.

Mystic Moon
Chapter 2
By ~ Rain

It took me five minutes to get into my apartment. Three bags of groceries, and one shopping bag filed with 10 incense sticks, 4 tapers, Dragon's Blood, and a new meditation tape. Miss Morgana, my familiar gave me a merry greeting as I stumbled into the kitchen.

" Well, missy, today's meal for you fancy cat, liver and fish. For me your basic side course, fresh vegetables, accompanied by, a good sea food salad." I threw the groceries on the counter. I went to my CD player plopped in the tape, the first song was sounds of the ocean. My kinda music, much needed calming tunes, after another day of job hunting. I rummaged through my bags and picked out the Dragon's Blood. It looked weird, on the back it said," Palm tree resin, Dragons Blood " I thought all this trouble, for one bag. Only later did I find out its true magical ability. This job interview went great, well anything is better compared to yesterday. I opened up a Coke, took a sip. Something attached my leg, I looked down only to find Miss Morgana, playing with my open shoe lace.

" OK then, you can get served first. Exciting news, Jane is coming to visit today, first lesson in Wicca." I put her bowl down, she purred thanks. I replied back ," As always sweetie, your welcome." I went to the counter, unpacked the rest of my groceries. I opened up the precut baby carrots. I thought out loud, " Carrots could be used in Magick too, although, I don't know its properties, I am sure I have something in my Book of Shadows. " I put all the food away except for my sea food salad. I opened it up and sat on the counter top. Miss Morgana came and gave me a purr. "OK, I know what your up to, It won't work, this is mine." I heard a click in the distance ... the music stopped, side one ended. I slipped off the counter, raised my hands, bowed and cheered for myself walking to the CD player announcing that I got a perfect 10 on my dismount. I flipped the tape over, and turned around only to see Missy eating the rest of my Sea Food salad "Great, you eat the good stuff, but leave the carrots" I went to take missy off the table when I heard the buzzer.

"Gwen, you there, buzz me up." It was Jane. I pressed the half broken buzzer and said,

" OK, c'mon up." I walked around the apartment quickly picking up any laundry on the furniture. I gathered it all up, open the closest closet and chucked it all in it. I ran to the door opened it and saw Jane about to knock.

" I hate when you do that !" Jane said. And invited herself in as usual. She brought a pizza. " I didn't know what to bring witchy wise so I brought this," she elevated the pizza. I smiled, knowing that Miss Morgana helped he self to my dinner, so this was perfect.

"Actually, its perfect !" we opened it up and inhaled the freshly cooked scent of extra cheese, grizzling hot pizza. " Thank the goddess of Pizza" I said under my breath.

" So lets eat, you can teach and eat right?" Jane asked with a smile fully knowing my answer would be a definite yes. "What's first on the lesson plan?" she asked.

" Make sure not to let your familiar eat your dinner !" I laughed at my own joke, but, I was the only one who understood it.

"Should I pick a Craft name?" Jane asked impatiently

"Well, you should know about The Craft first." I paused to take a bite, "You know a little more than the average beginner because of all the things I tell you, that is a good advantage, however, Wicca is more than Spell work."

"Yeah, you talk about a Goddess and God, and a Horny man." Jane stated as if she got it all laid out. But, I burst out laughing almost choking on my food.

"Sorry, I umm, well you kinda heard me wrong, I meant the Goddess and the Horned God. "I pause trying to contain my laughter. "well you see there are different types of gods they are all different characteristics, piled up, in one God. Now, many people like to think about it like this, One god, has many masks and each mask represents an aspect or pantheon. He takes em' off and puts others on at will. Same with the goddess, there are many goddess but, they come together to make The Goddess. Am I making sense?"

"Yeah, actually you are, and I take it that there is no horny man?" Jane smiled realizing her error.

"Well, Mr. Jacobs, he's the horny man, but he doesn't fit into Wicca." We both laughed "Please pass, another can of soda, Jane"

" Sure, here. Speaking of your job hunting experience, how did it go today? "

"Well, I think pretty well. You know I was thinking, until I get a job things are going to be tight money wise, I might have to bring in a roommate." I told Jane and she lit up.

"Well, I might have the perfect person for it." Jane exclaimed.

"Oh you do? However, I AM a very messy person and I take long showers. And I have a familiar that EATS everything." I glanced at Miss Morgana she purred, I continued talking "Other than that, I'd love to have you be my roommate."

"Oh,Oh,Oh This is great ... we can do spells together, and make brews and potions !" I sighed, and stated,

"My dear, you have a lot to learn, brews, potions, ahhhhh.... when can you move in?"

I finished telling her about The goddess and God, then I talked about Esbats and Sabots. It was a long night, She left at 10:00. I put my mediation tape on and fell asleep to the sounds of calypso music. In four days I was not going to have an apartment all to myself any more. That night, I dreamt of the man again, the dark haired man, with black clothing, he was still faceless.

Michael and Beth Chronicles
Novel Beginnings
by Selene Silverwind
SeleneSilverwind@aol.com

Mark stole another glance at the door, and then at his watch. It was 8:00 already. Gary was later than he had said he'd be. Knowing that Gary wouldn't be late if he didn't have a reason, he turned his attention back to the web page he was building. Moments later, the door opened and Gary leaned in after a long Sunday spent at the office. "I'm sorry I'm late. I know the game already started."

Mark motioned for him to come the rest of the way in. "I was working anyway. How'd it go?"

Gary set his briefcase down by the door and headed into the kitchen for a beer. "Want one?" he said, looking back. Mark nodded, and Gary continued into the kitchen. "Well, it's done. We file tomorrow. Hopefully the judge will approve the injunction before they start paving the beach." He walked back into the room carrying two open beers and made a bee-line for the couch.

Mark got up from his desk and followed Gary and the beer. "You know, we can always use less mundane means to help the cause along," he said. "I'm sure everyone in the building would be willing to work on it. Well, almost everyone." He took one of the beers from Gary.

Gary picked up the remote and clicked on the television. "Couldn't hurt," he said as he scanned the channels for the game. "Why don't you talk to Kyra? See what she thinks." He found the game just as their team scored. "Home run!" They swigged their beers in celebration and any further conversation about the environmental project was suspended for the evening.

Michael and Beth arrived at Pages a few minutes after eight. Through the storefront's plate glass window, Beth could see inviting old chaise lounges, comfortable couches, and small tables arranged haphazardly through the homey space. The walls were lined with bookcases from floor to ceiling, all of which were crammed with faded volumes and obscure texts. Other books were scattered on tables along with large coffee cups and cookie plates.

Michael led her inside and each ordered a latte and brownies, which the barrister prepared, then rang up. While Beth rummaged in her purse for her wallet, Michael paid the check. "You didn't have to do that," she said as they carried their coffees away from the counter.

"Yes I did. I invited you here," he said. "Where do you want to sit?"

Beth's eye roamed the bottom floor. Every couch and table seemed to be occupied by customers making notes on legal pads and laptops or chatting with friends. She glanced up to the second level. "Are there seats up there?" she asked.

"Yeah," Michael said. They went up the stairs where only a few other people sat reading and drinking coffee and found a table in the small room overlooking the rest of the store. "What do you think?" he asked, referring to the store.

Beth nodded appreciatively. "I like it. I could definitely get some studying done here."

Michael grinned. "I come here all the time. It's perfect. Coffee, books, comfy couches. What more could you want?"

"They probably wouldn't like it if I brought my paints," Beth said with a laugh.

"You're probably right about that," Michael responded, joining in her laughter.

Kyra sat on the sofa embroidering an image of the Lady of the Lake for Marisa's room and watching a Discovery channel special on the ancient city of Atlantis. She glanced down at Marisa, who was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table supposedly doing math homework. "Marisa, I see you watching TV. You only have an hour and a half before bed and you know you can't check your e-mail until your homework is done."

"I only have a little left!" Marisa said defensively. She nodded toward the TV. "Besides, that's educational."

"So is your math homework," Kyra said, suppressing an amused smile. "But that's a good try."

Marisa huffed in protest, but went back to her math problem. From his place beside Kyra, Adam smiled at the exchange.

"How are the essays?" Kyra asked, referring to the papers he was grading.

"Not bad," Adam said. "I have them reading a version of the King Arthur legend. They seem to like it."

Kyra laughed and set down her cross-stitch as she leaned over to hug him. "Sneak it in anywhere you can, eh? What are they reading next?"

"I'm not sure. I may have them choose from a selection of banned books."

"My husband, the subversive."

While they laughed and exchanged a quick kiss, Marisa glanced up at them and shook her head. They could be so strange sometimes. But at least they weren't kissing in public. How embarrassing would that be? Hoping Kyra was still distracted, she sneaked another glance at the TV.

"I saw that, young lady. Back to work."

"Slavedriver," she said, suppressing a smile of her own.

Michael and Beth started on their second cup of coffee and continued their conversation about art and books. As they talked, Michael became entranced by the way she bowed her head when she laughed and her hair fell across her shoulders. He longed to reach out and touch it.

Beth noticed his admiring eye and felt her cheeks color under his gaze. She allowed her eyes to wander over him again, noticing the way the edges of his lips crinkled when he smiled and his eyes twinkled with life when he spoke passionately about his favorite artists. There was something very strong drawing her to him. She hoped she could handle it.

She stretched her slim fingers across the table and a flicker of color drew Michael's attention down to the opal ring she wore on her right hand. Sensing an excuse to touch her, he slid his hand over to hers and brushed a finger over the smooth stone. "That's pretty," he said as his hand skimmed across her soft skin. Goddess, her hands were smooth. He stopped that thought before he wondered if the rest of her was as smooth. He picked up her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, and looked into her eyes to gauge her reaction.

Beth smiled as the sensation of his skin on hers set off a tingling that stretched up her arm into her chest, down into her stomach, and then lower still. Their conversation came to a halt as they realized that they were alone, in a neutral place, relaxed and comfortable. The time was now.

"Is there anyone behind us?" Michael asked, referring to the other room.

Beth stretched her neck and peeked over his shoulder. "No," she said.

"Good," he murmured as he leaned closer to her and their lips met in the perfect kiss. Perfect moisture, perfect pressure, perfect sparks shooting through both of them. Neither wanted to be the one to pull away.

Just as they had started to become familiar with the geography of each other's lips, their kiss was interrupted by a bell sounding downstairs. Michael pulled his head back and looked down at his watch. It was 9:15 and the store closed in 15 minutes. "We should go," he said.

Beth was disappointed. She wanted to keep kissing him, but she didn't know if she was ready to do that in her own apartment, with her bed was just a few feet away. She wasn't sure she would be able to fight the temptation. Best not to think about that.

She got up and followed Michael out of the coffee shop. As they rode home, Beth's hands repeatedly drifted up to her tingling lips and she brushed her fingertips over them, reliving the sensation of Michael's kiss.

Michael noticed and smiled. He ached to replace her fingers with his lips, but he knew his libido couldn't take another half-hour of kissing. Better to wait until another day when he had become a little more accustomed to the clamoring in his veins.

They arrived back at the building, and as they entered the courtyard, Michael reached out and took Beth's hand. She smiled at him, and that smile launched another swell of desire in him. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a person laying on the grass, but was too absorbed in Beth to notice who it was. They reached her door and she opened it, then turned back to him. He pulled her toward him and they exchanged another sweltering kiss, but before it could develop into something more, Beth ended the kiss and took a step back into her apartment.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening," she said.

Michael nodded. "Anytime. Care to repeat it tomorrow?"

Beth smiled and nodded eagerly, then leaned out of the doorway to grant him another peck on the lips before closing her door. With a frustrated, yet satisfied, sigh, Michael walked to the edge of the walkway and looked down at the person lying on the grass. It was Anacati, enjoying the night sky. He decided to join her.

"Hey, what has you out here?" he asked as he lay down beside her.

"I needed to feel some earth. Spent the whole day in the office."

"But you get to heal people, that must be nice."

"Not today. Today was strictly paperwork. I hate paperwork. So, what'd you want to talk about?"

"Beth."

"I thought as much," she said. "What about her specifically?"

"I kissed her tonight."

Intrigued, Anacati turned her head to face him. "How was it?"

Michael exhaled a breath of pleasure as he recalled the perfect kiss. "It was incredible. It was all I could do to leave her at the door."

"She just moved in, Michael. Give her a little time to settle."

"I will, I will."

Kyra's voice drifted over from the far end of the courtyard. "That's all she needs."

Michael and Anacati raised their heads up, surprised to see their landlady outside cutting herbs. They spoke at the same time.

"I didn't hear you come out," Anacati said.

"How you do you know that?" Michael asked.

Kyra chuckled. "I was trying to be quiet. And it's just something I felt from her."

"So, do you think I have a shot with her?"

Kyra nodded her head. "Yes, but Anacati's right. Give her time. She needs it right now."

"What do you mean by that?" Michael asked.

"I think I've said enough for now." Kyra sighed as she climbed to her feet. "I should get back inside. It's time for tonight's round of the 'Marisa's bedtime argument'."

"Night," Anacati and Michael said as Kyra went back inside, then set their heads back on the lawn.

After a few quiet moments of watching the sky darken and reveal a few more stars, Michael spoke again. "I hate it when she's mysterious like that."

Anacati nodded. "But if she wasn't, she wouldn't be our Raven."

Michael nodded in agreement. "True." He sat up, brushing bits of grass of his arms. "Think I'm going to go back inside now. I've got to finish a big paper. And stop thinking about Beth."

"Good luck," Anacati said.

"Thanks," he said as he stood, not sure if Anacati was referring to his paper or Beth. It didn't matter. He needed it for both.

For her part, Beth was equally distracted by thoughts of Michael as she tried to sketch her latest assignment. Every time her pencil met the paper, her hands followed the lines of a sculpture depicting lovers. She was supposed to be drawing a landscape. Finally, she gave up and went to the painting she had done of her and Michael in the garden. Maybe she would just turn that in.

No, that wouldn't work. There was only one thing to do. She crossed the room and snatched up the phone, pressing the speed dial button for Janine.

"Hello?"

"I kissed him."

Janine squealed on the other end of the line. "And? How was it? When? Where? Tell me everything. Start with how was it."

Beth's lips curled into a satisfied smile and she brushed her fingers over her still perfect lips. "It bordered on blissful."

Natural Magick by John Michael Greer
Review by Susan Davis <Moonsilvered@Moonsilvered.com>

An excellent teaching tool, this volume is a study guide that leads the reader methodically. You will explore the philosophy of energies as theymanifest on this earthly plane, and will learn how to recognize and utilize these energy flows. This book will also provide you with all of the basic information needed to map out the energies you wish to access, and the way to tap them for best effect.

Included in this workbook is an encyclopedia of magickal properties of plants, stones, minerals, trees, metals and other sources of natural energy generation, in alphabetical order. Following the encyclopedia is a compendium of ways to use their knowledge ranging from Amulets to Alchemy. This book is a wonderful resource that will guide the reader to a deeper and more effective system of focusing and accessing natural magickal energies.

Raven's Rants
By Calissta (AKA Raven)

As a child I feel I have had to overcome many more obstacles than most children. I also found growing up with a Catholic Mother and Atheist Father was interesting, to say the least. Whenever I was punished by my Mother I had to spend several hours locked in a closet saying my prayers. All the while my Father scratched his head in confusion wondering why I had to pray to a "Non existent God". After all, he could make me feel sorry now with a few cracks of his belt. I knew pretty early on that these were not the values or beliefs I wanted. I also did not plan to pass them onto my children.

Now, I did understand that you cannot judge an entire religion (or lack thereof) by one persons actions. That is why my parents behavior was only a very small part of the realization. I figured that I had a calling that was different from what I was growing up around. This calling was re - affirmed by my Grandmother who was a witch and coven High Priestess for most of her adult life.

I went through years of abuse with my parents. They covered all aspects - physical, mental, and sexual. I remember laying in bed at night when I was a little girl wondering why I was being hurt in this way. My Fathers abuse I could understand on some level because he had no fear of judgment. My Mother was what I could not comprehend. She was supposed to be a God fearing woman yet she acted in such an evil way. This thought among others kept me up many nights.

Luckily I got to spend the summers with my Grandmother. She would teach me about crystals, herbs, magick, and the Goddess. I still think to this day that she knew what my life was like but felt to old or helpless to make a difference. Little does she know how much of a difference she did make in my life. My Grandmother would sit me on her lap in her rocking chair and tell me that the Goddess only gives us things to deal with that will make us grow up a stronger and better person. I was taught that we are given things to learn from and that no matter what else happens in our life or who passes on - we are always loved by Gaia. I will always remember how comforting of a feeling that was. Before she told me this every time my father would hurt me I would spend time blaming and hating myself. After she taught me about the Goddess and her love I realized that no matter what damage was done to my body they could never destroy my soul. I would always have my spirituality and my mind as long as I did not give them the power to hurt that too - and I never did.

I started going to my Grandmothers every weekend along with every summer. She taught me how to cast a proper circle, how to plant herbs, how to ground and center, and so much more that words on paper could never convey. She took a child who was not only beginning to hate herself, but the world, and turn her into a loving and spiritual young girl. All by showing me that even after she left this world, the Goddess would still love me.

That winter she passed away to the Summerland's. All at once my Grandmother, friend, and teacher were gone. I mourned but I never felt a loss because her words still lived. They still existed not only in her Book of Shadows but forever in my heart. I still remember how it felt to sit in her lap and can still smell the scent of sage that always filled her home. Even after losing my son, the death of my daughter, my kidnapping, rape, and cancer I still feel blessed. I have a loving husband, two more sweet children, and the gifts of being able to sing, draw, and write. My largest blessing however was to have had such a wonderful and loving woman as part of my life. If she had never been part of my existence I would not only have lost out on such wonderful teachings on witchcraft but I don't think I would still know how to love. For that I will always be grateful.

Wiccan Warrior by Kerr Cuhulain
Review by Susan Davis <Moonsilvered@Moonsilvered.com>

This volume freely explores the concepts of becoming a Spiritual Warrior. Kerr deftly guides the reader into ways of developing into an active, strong, confident being. His personal journey and anecdotes richly illustrate his own beliefs and discoveries and draws the reader into a new view vision of potentials and goals for improving control over all aspects of life. Once his premise has been fully explored, Kerr goes even further by presenting methods and exercises that allow the reader to apply these principles to daily life.

This book will benefit any person, male or female, young or old, hale or weak to become a "warrior" in the older and sacred meaning of the term. I will continue working on these ideas, incorporating them into my personal spiritual quests and magickal life for years to come. To my mind, that is the hallmark of a must-have book...knowledge that I will reach for time and time again, and new skills that I can use to enhance my spirit and my abilities to be an asset to my community.

Dream World
By Morning Glory

Held under water
In a silent sleep
Immobilized
The gentle lapping
Of pure, blue waves
Soothes me.
Rinsing me free
Of anger and wrath
Fears and worries.
The arms of Poseidon
Engulf me.
With a gentle caress,
The sea
Claims me as its own.
This isn't meant to be
I don't belong
In this perfect world
So I shoot to the surface,
Breaking free.
And as I open
My bewildered, brown eyes,
Muddled thoughts
And weary half shredded emotions
Rush back to me
THE SPELL IS BROKEN.

- 2 - July 18, 2000

I didn't really care one way or another if there was to be a "May Day". I wouldn't go to any gathering like that anyway. At the time I was still irritated over the burning times and the religious discrimination I saw all around me. Also, I had been thinking I should ride up to the lake and collect bulrushes to plait into a new year-wheel. Maybe I'd have a few drinks and watch the stars if it was warm enough.

Any road, back to this Wiccan woman. It was a couple of minutes before class started and I watched her collect her books and purse. She ran her hand under her ear to the back of her neck to flick her hair out from under her purse strap. Nice hair too, shiny, dark, straight, almost as long as mine. Her hair caught on a chain she was wearing under her shirt, pulling the chain and pendant tight against her throat, before that lovely hair came loose from the chain.

I know, she was across the room. I know, my eyes aren't perfect. I know, I'd already had a couple of swallows from my flask. I know, I only saw it for a couple of seconds, just long enough for her to tuck it back inside. BUT! I knew, yes KNEW! It was a pentacle. I was absolutely certain of it! It may have been a star of David like some Jewish people wear, but I was positive it wasn't. I found out later that the pendant was only an inch and a bit across, so there was no way I should have been able to identify it at that range, but I knew! I couldn't get my mind off it during the next class and it took a lot of will-power to concentrate on the test. I started to doubt what I saw. In the class right before lunch, I was questioning myself, my eyes, and my drinking, (this was before I stopped drinking alcohol) I had almost convinced myself that what I knew I had seen, I hadn't really seen at all. It was unusual for me to be obsessive about something, I can only say, in my defense, that I had recently moved to that town and I had left behind friends who saw the world with the same eye as I, and I hadn't met any pagans here. Being a pagan or Wiccan wasn't something one advertised back then, now-a-days people can wear their pentacles or ankhs or crescent moon pendants openly. Maybe I was lonely, maybe I was horny, Idon't know, but I couldn't get her out of my thoughts.

At lunch, I sat in my usual seat, she sat in hers. Funny how quickly some patterns establish themselves, isn't it? The other three who usually sat with me to play kiddie bridge (euchre) came over and ate their lunches while we played, I was watching this woman. A couple of women came over and sat with her, as usual. This time though I noticed that she was talking with them but she was more reserved, not really an active part, more like going through the motions. She reminded me of, well, me. The talk at my table would just flow around me, most of the students and staff originally thought I wasn't too bright, because I never said very much.

Over the next few days I watched her when I could. Once, and only once, I asked my kiddie bridge partners about her, referring to her as 'that cutie with the orgeous hair'. The only comment I heard was that she was a witch and I shouldn't associate with 'that type' of person. I just grinned and kept silent about her after that.

Finally, one day away from school, I saw her sitting alone in a coffee shop/bookstore. I went in and said quietly "merry meet, may I sit down". She looked stunned and scared and wary and paranoid like a crystal reflecting different colors of light as it's turned. When I saw recognition in her eyes, deep brown eyes, I gave a half smile and projected sympathy and harmlessness. At her nod I sat across from her, without looking at her I began to trace a pentacle with my finger on the table between us. "I've seen you in school" I said "and I thought you looked lonely, and I thought I'd like to get to know you". Her eyes were fixed on what my finger was doing, and her hand moved to clasp her shirt. I asked, "does yours mean the same thing to you as mine does to me?"

Oh, she was careful, I'll give her that. She said, she didn't know what I was talking about. I leaned forward and very quietly asked her if she would like to go to the lake with me on Beltane-eve.

And that, as they say, was the start of a beautiful friendship. We spent a lot of time together over the next couple of years. We liked some of the same things; beer, vodka with grapefruit juice, spicy food, women with long blonde hair, country air, star gazing and, perhaps most important, we could talk freely about our beliefs with each other. We would talk for hours about almost anything, jumping from one topic to the next, sometimes way off on a tangent, other times we'd talk seriously about one subject with only a few bad puns to lighten the conversation.

"Hey! A shooting star! That was a big one! It almost looks like it might reach the ground. Are you able to perceive shooting stars, my friend?" I asked, giving it's knee a pat, then reaching out to rub my knees which were still mad at me for freezing them during the winter. Since I had to lean forward a little, I caught the lightening of the sky out of the corner of my eye. " I had no idea it was so late, I'd better be getting home soon, or I'll be driving into the rising sun." I 'listened' for a bit and replied "Yeah, I like watching the dawn too, but if I wait I'll either be driving with the sun in my eyes or rush hour traffic"

"I guess I'll have to clean up a bit before I go," I began moving around the vale picking up food wrappers, beer bottles and caps, "but there's not much I can do about that ring of salt. Who would use salt to scribe a circle? Don't they know plants don't like salt? Will it affect your growth, being inside your root ring?" I was very relieved at the impression of rain washing away the salt, but still bothered that someone could be so inconsiderate. "Well, that looks better," I said, holding the garbage bag while surveying the vale of my friend, "I'll see you again soon, Beltane is only half a moon away and nobody is scheduled to work because it's a Sunday. Cool eh? Next review I won't get docked for time off."

I picked up my stuff and made a last circle around the vale looking for garbage. I said goodbye to my friend the tree, then made my way through the woods to Dayen and home.

*1 They spelled women WOMYN to get away from any ties to men.
*2pronounced object--ified. As in sex-OBJECT.

They Were Only Human
By Morning Glory

Gods and Goddesses are not the omnipotent beings one might suppose: they are flawed, unwise and seemingly mortal in the Norse culture. With a handful of Gods and Goddesses as examples, I will deal with each in some depth rather than examine the whole of Norse mythology in a more superficial manner.

Much of Norse mythology comes originally from two sources: The Poetic Edda and the Prose Edda. The word Edda is believed to mean either "great-grandmother" (as in the great-grandmother of all literature) or more simply "poetics". The Prose Edda written by Snorri Sturluson in the early eleventh century. In this work the Gods appear periodically. However, the Prose Edda is almost as much given to tales of various heroic characters as it is to anecdotes of the mythological Gods.

The Poetic Edda is even more of an accomplishment as a whole. Most of the authors are unknown. So, the grouping together of this eddic poetry can only come from a strong history of people who strived to keep these words alive. The poems are written in what is referred to as epic measure. The structure of the Poetic Edda is intriguing, and the obvious model for all eddic poetry. All poems are constructed of strophes. These are comprised of four lines each. Usually, these strophes are divided into half strophes by a caesura (space). Every two lines are joined together in a pair. Alliteration or a repetition of certain consonant and vowel sounds loosely connects these pairs. More complicated still, is the requirement that each line be six syllables (in the original Icelandic presumably) and end in a trochee. Therefore a typical strophe would be like this:

The unwise man thinks that he ay will live,
If from fighting he flees;
But the ails and aches of old age dog him
Though spears have spared him. (Hollander, 17)

The subject matter, which I shall touch on shortly deals specifically with the legends of the mythological Gods and some minor heroic characters.

Odin the all seer and most powerful of all the Gods is not often seen to use his power when it is necessary. In fact, Odin is often very passive for someone who so very powerful and purportedly wise. It is these passive dealings with many of the Gods and Goddesses that cause a great deal of trouble. Most of all, this is true with the great trickster, Loki. When Loki comes to Asgard and insults everyone in sight, Odin's only response is this, "Granted I gave as give I should not mastery to worser men." (Hollander, 95) He refuses to punish Loki's ravings as they are in the Great Hall of Asgard. No one can be harmed in this safe place yet Odin remains serene and nearly taciturn without any decision to send Loki away. There is no mention of preventing him from entering Asgard again or from causing further trouble, apart from eventually having his mouth sewn up. Throughout all of Loki's tales, he seems to be given great leniency by Odin although it is clear that he does not deserve it. The one explanation to this could be that Odin never had at any time taken Loki seriously, despite his talents at shapeshifting, tomfoolery and cruelty. It is to Odin's detriment that he seems reluctant to penalize Loki, and perhaps to unwittingly aid in the destruction of the Gods. Odin seems detached from responsibility in this case. In fact, he seems detached from any situation that does not directly involve him. Odin simply does not lash out in this manner. To him, a simple reprimand will suffice. "Let thy tongue which drips bitterness be silent." (Colum, 172) In this, there is perhaps a weary threat. However, a threat it is and little more.

Perhaps it is Odin's pursuit of knowledge that makes him king of the Gods, even if he does not rule as well as he might. As a traveler and seeker of knowledge, Odin possesses a great hunger. In fact this hunger is so great that he is willing to give up his right eye for in the gaining of it. This, he in fact does, so that he can return to Asgard changed and better for it. Again, this is a didactic tale. Wisdom may be earned, but it is not easily won. We as humans, often need to sacrifice something we hold dear, though perhaps not something as dearly needed as one of our own eyes.

Another story of Odin's knowledge appropriately has to do with Yggdrasil, the tree from which knowledge stems. Hanging himself from this tree for many nights, he hallucinates the runes, a magickal alphabet. In a vision all the various meanings of these runes suddenly became clear to him. It would appear that as far as knowledge goes, Odin is willing to do much soul searching. When it comes to delegating responsibility to the other Gods and Goddesses, Odin falls short. His knowledge seems much more suited to a nomad or perhaps a hermit, than king of the Gods. The all seer may be a great thinker, but since he uses his knowledge internally, few others (except perhaps for Frigg and Freya) seem to benefit from contemplative knowledge in Asgard. A handful of Gods and Goddesses are wise, but even more are greedy, silly and thoughtless.

In these tales, Odin also demonstrates a certain selfishness. As king of the Gods, he does not show the kind of fatherly reign one might expect of a God so highly regarded. He still contains the wanderlust of a youth that has not seen enough of the world. He does gain the knowledge he seeks, but is as often as deluded and wrong about those around him as he is wise. Like us, he journeys the world to find a healthier and happier place.

Loki, seems intent on the very opposite, since he is the darker side of all of us. As time hurtles toward the predetermined Twilight of the Gods (destruction), Loki becomes more full of cruelty and malice. He begins as a trickster, shapeshifter and master of disguises to a petty lair and attempted murderer.

As we first see him, he in the one who solves a problem created initially by Odin. Odin, promising far too much to a Giant who has built a wall around Asgard, is now in a dilemma. It is Odin who will not make good on his promise and Loki who solves the problem via his shapeshifting. Odin, as father of the Gods shows little wisdom in this instance by promising the Giant anything he would like for himself. This is an in exhaustive promise, and could have placed Odin in a position of continual debt. It is expected for the Giant to know his boundaries without being reminded by the Gods. Perhaps this is an overestimation of Odin's part. For his part, Loki resolves this difficulty by tricking the Giant and preventing him to finish the wall in the allotted period of time.

The Gods never seem to show much graciousness for the few good deeds Loki does, gleeful as he may be over his trickery. Soon his tricks, though still a bit playful become more injurious, as he removes Sif's glorious crown of hair. Naturally, this causes Sif pain, as she believes that her hair is her only redeeming quality. This Loki compensates for by convincing some dwarves to create new golden tresses for Sif. Here, Loki has transgressed from playful to something of a nuisance. From her, he graduates to something even more., an accomplice to attempted murder. He tricks Thor into traversing to the home of an evil giant, who has plans to kill Thor! What appears to be a lack of common sense on Thor's part nearly brings about his destruction. Some arguments have been made that Loki was merely protecting his own honor in this case. While a possibility, it seems unlikely and not in keeping with Loki's character at all. Loki is a shapeshifter, a trickster and always described as cunning. He could have tricked the giant had he chosen to. Instead he chooses to lead Thor into a trap without even the slightest warning. Loki, can hardly be pardoned by Thor's mistake. Loki is at this point, possibly demented with hatred. It is he who brings the situation into play.

Thor is portrayed as a powerful and friendly god who is at least at one point Loki's partner in crime. It is Thor's readiness to prevent Freya from marrying the giant, Thiassi. He is willing enough to dress in women's clothing. To this end, Thor is sometimes clownish, even foolish to always do Loki's bidding. " Let a housewife's door keys dangle about him, let a woman's weeds be worn by him. Let him bear on this breast bridal jewels, a hood on his head as behooves a bride." (Hollander, 107) As good-natured as Thor may appear, as well as perhaps the most generous of the Gods, he is also amongst the most dim-witted. He seems to give no thought at all to the dangers that might befall him. In this, he too mirrors us. Sometimes we are all too willing to see the good in people when there is none actually there.

Thor again, makes this mistake in not only allowing Loki to persuade him to traverse the land of the giants to do this without the protection of his belt, hammer or gloves. This was strangely stupid thing to do even considering Thor's general demeanor. It is only through the luck and chance of a kindly giant that Thor does not lose his freedom or his life. "Gerriod a friendly giant! You are out of your wits Asa Thor...do not go to this house." Thor with remarkable naiveté and few brains, counters this with "My word has been given, and I should be a craven if I stayed away now, just because an old crone sitting at a quernstone tells me I am going into a trap (Colum, 167). Thor suffers from pride and bravado here, no doubt spurred on by Loki. In some ways Thor is as dangerous as Loki can be, for he seems unaware of his mindless ways, it causes him more difficulty all derived from his own thoughtlessness. Ignorance is NOT bliss.

Freya, her fairness aside, shows many facets possessed by men and women alike. She is kind and gentle, yet thoughtless and greedy. She is placater, caregiver and consummate in the art of love. On several occasions, it is she who recognizes Loki's idiocy for what it is when she admonishes him for his cruel words, "Thou art raving, Loki to reckon up, all the ill thou hast don; I ween that Frigg (Odin's wife) the fates knoweth though she say it not herself." (Hollander, 96) Loki naturally counters these words by claiming Freya to be a whore. This however, is almost always a stock response for any female who dares to counter Loki's so called wit. Meant seriously, or not, the response is not typically all that witty whether spoken by God or man.

Freya has a mind of her own, and is not content to do merely as her man of the moment bids her. It is she who seeks out the things she wants, such as a beautiful and unique gold necklace. Depending on which source is read, Freya gains her golden necklace after submitting (some might say she is raped), to four ugly dwarves who create the necklace for her. Another story claims that the dwarves merely point Freya to the abode of the three mountain dwelling giant women. Either way, Freya bears her dilemma with fortitude as is expected of mortal women, it alas seems expected of the Vanir and Aesir Goddesses.

Freya is rewarded with a faithless husband, who not only is gone when she returns, but apparently, is never to be found again. Freya's travails appear to form a didactic tale about the flightiness of women, although in this case, the same can be argued of her husband, Odur. Little is known about this figure in Norse mythology. One day, he just isn't there anymore. In any case, he seems to bear little love for Freya to just disappear from Asgard and then never again return. Freya, forever after, is an ardent and reproachful wife dutifully seeking out a wayward husband who will not respond to her mournful calls or reappear amid her exhaustive searches.

Freya also proves to be the third source of all Odin's great knowledge. Her knowledge of the art of love and sexual magick is passed on to Odin only after he comes to her with the request that she teach him. Clearly, there is a respect here for Freya, which Odin does not share with everyone. It seems, that he is more respectful of women's talents, and just and willing to learn from them as they are to learn from him. It is a bond that cannot be broken. In this same way, Odin reveres his wife Frigg.

In some ways, the offspring of the various Gods and Goddesses may seem more powerful than their predecessors may. To a degree, this is true of Loki's daughter. It is she who is actually more useful than her own father is, as she is watchful over the dead. Loki, on the other hand is only mindful of his own selfish purposes. Hella is described a s half living and half-dead, half black and half white or half warm flesh and half icy with cold. She ruled over Niflheim the underworld. In many of the more simplified tales about Hella, she never ever speaks. To many people this is just another form of fear, fear of the unknown. Unlike her father, however, she is certainly closer to any mode of justice than her father ever will be . As she suggests that one of her own, Baldr, may be returned to Asgard if all creatures will take pity and weep at his absence. At least she offers an option, unlike Loki, who as time goes on becomes more and more demonized. Hella merely relegates her power within her domain.

In the Poetic Edda, Hella is sometimes referred to as seeress, a shapeshifting trick she no doubt learned from her father. (Hollander, 118) She seems unwilling and silent as ever to tell what she knows. It is only after Odin commands her that she is willing to speak. It is in fact Hella who predicts to Odin's chagrin, The Twilight of the Gods. "Homeward hie thee happy in mind, no chanted spells will charm me up until Loki is loose from his bonds and the day will comes of the doom of the Gods." (Hollander, 119) Unlike her father, Hella is straightforward about the plight of Asgard. Hella does not possess the trickery that her father does, even if she does retain the slightest bit of daughterly devotion. Her cool perusal of what is to come is completely unlike Loki's hysterical rantings. In her cruelty there is a kind a truth. She is the dark side of all of us. And we must embrace her as we all embrace the light. For Hella is as real and a part of humankind as is Thor, Odin, Freya, and Loki.

The Gods and Goddesses, shown in their own true light, seem painfully mortal. They offer wisdom that humans can learn and show the same kind of follies that we commit. Perhaps, when listening to the thudding of our own hearts, we can hear the voices of Odin, Freya, Loki, Thor, and Hella calling to us and out from within us. Perhaps if we learn from what they teach and what we teach each other, there will be no Twilight of the Humans.


Bibliography

Books:
Colum, Padraic. Nordic Gods and Heroes. New York: Dover Publications, Inc. 1996.
Conway, D.J. Norse Magic. St. Paul: Llewellyn Publications, 1990.
Hollander, Lee M. trans. The Poetic Edda. Austin: University of Texas Press. 1999.
Sturluson, Snorri. Trans. Jean I. Young. The Prose Edda. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1954.

Internet:
The Nordic Mythology. Lulea Univerisity, Sweden. http://www.luth.se/luth/present/sweden/history/gods/Old_norse_myth.html

Hot Chocolate for the Mystical Teenage Soul; 101 true stories of Angels, Miracles, and healing.
By Arielle Ford
Reviewed by ~ Rain

Recently I had the opportunity to read Hot Chocolate for the Mystical Teenage Soul. The author Arielle Ford who also wrote Hot Chocolate for the Mystical Soul, is now reaching to the teen audience with wonderful spiritual stories from around the world.

Basically the book is divided into seven different sections ranging from spooky stuff to death and visitations. I found this book to be an easy read. The short stories enable the reader to read at his/her own pace choosing to read several stories in a sitting or just one. I also liked picking out which sections to read first.

One question that kept popping into my mind over and over was, " Is this story really true?" Although there is a list of contributors in the back of the book, and where to reach some of them, the question was still in my mind. How can one prove that they saw an angel, or that they are getting messages from a dead relative? So if you don't have and open mind and you find yourself a skeptic, this book might not appeal to you.

I had mixed feelings on the first chapter called "spooky." Some of them involved Ouija board or Spirit board as some call it. I fear that some kids will start to play with these boards because they read about it. Such boards are not games and that should have been stressed. Another story was about an alien/UFO encounter, I don't know if I should believe it or not but, it seemed as if it was out of place in the book. Maybe it should have been put in a different book, because I didn't see how it had a spiritual message.

I enjoyed the variety and mix that ford's book gave. It had the voices of people from several different religions. I was pleased to see Wicca mentioned. Maybe by showing different religions, spirituality, and culture we can take another step forward to religious tolerance.

One overwhelming theme in the book was that the teens were introverts. I highly recommend it to other introverted teens. Maybe they can get more empowering thoughts that might help them to break out of their shell. This book is also great for people who are sickly, have had a recent death of a person close to them, and for people who are looking into there own spirituality. I don't understand why this book should be limited to the teenage audience. I think many adults would enjoy it as well. However, age should be a small factor, because some stories talking about drugs. One boy said, "Over the next two years Brian and I explored drugs, poetry, music, telling the truth, facing fear, and letting loose." This whole story was about praising this boy Brian. Stating, " Girls flocked to him." I fear that some younger more influenced teens might read that and think drugs are O.K. I highly doubt that's what parents would want their children to read.

I wouldn't really recommend reading this book before bed either. My prime reading time is before I go to sleep. Some of those stories gave me the willies, and that created a few sleepless nights, ha, ha, ha! On the other hand many stories I found enlightening and inspiring.

Here are a few of my favorite stories;
Watching from Afar p. 54
Early Morning Angel p. 68
What I Always Wanted to Know p. 154
My Polar Bear p. 197
The Miracle Maker from India p. 208

I very much enjoyed this book. It challenges the mind and is spiritually empowering. I enjoyed the variety & mixture of unique entertaining stories. I wouldn't make this book a mandatory read for the teen pagan, but I do recommend it to anyone searching for their spirituality. I look forward to seeing more books from the Hot Chocolate series.

MEAGAN'S LAMMAS
By Kathryn Dyer (c)1996

Once upon a time there was a little girl named Meagan. She lived with her mother Elizabeth, her father Michael, her brother Corwin and her cat Starweaver.

One day Meagan was helping her mother do the grocery shopping. They were buying ingredients to make bread. They got flour, yeast, and molasses. Meagan was very excited. She was going to help make the bread for her family's Lammas celebration. Meagan knew that some Christians also called Lammas the 'Loaf Mass'. It was a holiday to celebrate the grain harvest. She helped her mother put the groceries into the cloth bags and carry them to the car. Soon they were ready to go home and start making the bread.

"Mommy," asked Meagan, "can we make a loaf for Cindy and Mrs. Hanson?" Elizabeth nodded, "I think that's a great idea! We're going to make a loaf for each of them, two for the coven and maybe a loaf for Nana and Gamma Lee and Granpa Scott. How many loaves will we need to make?"

Meagan thought and thought. She started to count on her fingers. "Hmmm," she said, "let's see, two and two is four and one is five and one is six. We need to make six loaves of bread to have enough for everyone."

"That's right!" said her mother, "and as soon as your brother gets home we'll start making them."

Meagan helped unload the groceries when they got home. She helped set out the ingredients for the bread. Then she decided to make cards to go with the bread until Corwin got home. She made a card for her best friend Cindy and Mrs. Hanson who lived down the street. She made a card for her Nana. She made a card for Gamma Lee and Granpa Scott. Corwin was still not home.

Meagan sighed. Her cat Starweaver jumped up into her lap and started to purr. "Gosh," she said to him, "I don't think that Corwin will ever come home!" She decided to make a card for Gwennie's new baby. Gwennie was in their coven and would be having a baby very soon. Michael had told Meagan that the midwife said that Gwennie's baby would probably be a little boy.

Meagan carefully chose a red crayon for fire. Meagan drew a red lion to stand for fire and the South. She drew a yellow eagle for air and the East. She drew a blue dragon for water and the West and she drew a green stag for earth and the North. Meagan stopped and looked at her card. She opened it up and put a silver Goddess on one side and a gold God on the other.

Just then Corwin came in the back door with their father. His face was pale. He had a white cast on his arm. Meagan jumped up from the table just as her mother came into the room.

"What happened!" Meagan gasped.

Elizabeth hugged Corwin tight. "Corwin fell from the tree he was climbing at the park and broke his arm. He'll have to keep the cast on for awhile but the doctor said that it was a clean break and should heal well."

Meagan put her hand on Corwin's good arm. "I'm sorry," she said, "will we still make bread?" Elizabeth looked at Michael over Corwin's head, "That depends on how Corwin feels, honey." Corwin sighed, "I think I'll be okay but I'm just gonna sit in the armchair and supervise."

Everyone helped Corwin get settled in an armchair in a corner of the kitchen. They made the dough for the bread and set it aside to rise. Meagan showed Corwin the cards she had made. "Hey, that's neat," her brother said, "I think I'll make a card for Gwennie and the baby later too. But right now I'd like to take my medicine and lay down."

Corwin went to his bedroom. Michael and Elizabeth were both doing other things while they waited for the bread to rise. Meagan felt all alone. She decided to make an extra special card for Corwin to help make him feel better. She used all her favorite colors. She took her time and was very careful. The dough still wasn't ready to cook.

Meagan looked at the timer. It was about to go off! She called her parents. "We're coming," chuckled Michael. Meagan jumped around the kitchen shouting, "It's time! It's time!" "Hush," said her mother, "we don't want to wake up Corwin. First we have to punch down the dough and let it rise again. We'll wake up Corwin just before we're ready to cook the bread." Meagan sighed, "How much longer?"

Elizabeth smiled and showed her the timer. Meagan sighed again. She had already made tons of cards. What could she do while she was waiting for the bread? She decided to make a present for the new baby and for Corwin. She went and got two jars from the recycle box. She cleaned them very carefully. She saw her father in the workshop and asked him to punch some long slots in the jars. "What are you making?" asked Michael.

"I'm making a saving's jar for Corwin and one for Gwennie's new baby," said Meagan. "That's a great idea!" said Michael; "Why don't you go decorate the jars and I'll have the tops ready for you by the time you're done."

Meagan took the jars up to her room. She glued on sparkles. She used yarn. She set the jars aside to dry and went back to the workshop. Michael had just finished filing the slots smooth. Meagan took the lids up to her room. She took out her button collection. She very carefully picked out buttons to fit on the lids. She glued buttons all over the lids in a spiral design. She hid the jars away so that Corwin wouldn't see them if he came into her room. By the time she had gone back to the kitchen it was time to bake the bread.

Corwin was feeling a little better. Soon the house was filled with the delicious smell of baking bread. When the loaves were done, they set them out to cool. Meagan and Corwin decorated some paper to wrap the bread in for their friends.

Soon it was Lammas. They put the bread on the altar with some real grain that someone had brought from their farm. Meagan looked for Gwennie but she didn't come. Someone told her that Gwennie was working on having her baby. While they were in Circle they asked the Lord and Lady to watch over Gwennie and her baby. When Circle was over everyone came back into the house. Michael checked the phone messages.

It is a boy!" he shouted, "Little Arthur Linden born at 6:22 PM. He weighed 6 pounds 11 ounces and was 19 1/2 inches long. Baby and parents are doing fine."

Everyone was very excited. Someone mentioned taking a present by their house. Meagan asked them to wait before they left. She ran to her room and got the card and the jar she had made. She also got the card and jar she had made for Corwin. Corwin saw the jars and asked her what they were for. "Well, one is for you and one is for Arthur for being born," she said, "since he's just a baby and won't care you can pick out which one you like best." Corwin took the jar that had blue and silver buttons on the top, "This looks like the night sky. Thanks Sis, this really makes me feel better." He gave her a hug. Meagan felt warm inside. Corwin had picked the jar that she had made while thinking of him. She gave the other jar to the grownup who was going by Gwennie's house. Everyone liked her present.

Meagan yawned. She told everyone goodnight and went into her room. She got ready for bed. When she got into her bed she found a piece of paper and a shell on her pillow. The paper was from Corwin and said "Thank you for being my sister." Meagan smiled and went to sleep holding her new shell. Her cat Starweaver came in and curled up at her feet. It had been a good day.