The Witches of Moonlight Ridge: A Novel (The Moonlight Ridge Series) - Softcover

Book 2 of 3: The Moonlight Ridge Series

Channell, Ramey

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9780991187713: The Witches of Moonlight Ridge: A Novel (The Moonlight Ridge Series)

Synopsis

Second book in the Moonlight Ridge Series follows the adventures of Lily Claire Nash and her cousin, Willie T. Nock, two precocious children in the woods of 1950s Alabama. Ghosts, hauntings, scary tales told 'round the evening fire, witches, and famous legends weave a story of mystery, romance, and tragedy.

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About the Author

Growing up in rural Alabama, Ramey Channell was spellbound by family stories of extraordinary beings and peculiar visitors. Her inspiration springs from a world where backwoods and backyards are visited by numinous creatures, and gardens are filled with echoes of enchanted song and laughter. This is her second novel in the Moonlight Ridge Series.

From the Back Cover

Willie T. was not just my cousin; he was also my best friend. We lived on Moonlight Ridge, just outside of a little town named Eden, Alabama. As seasons on the mountain came and went, we learned to accept the mysteries and magic around us with very few questions. Fascinating people, frightful creatures, and fantastic events were all just part of life, out on the mountain.

From the Inside Flap

Mr. Erskine straightened up and looked around. We heard old Bu, the hoot owl, calling from somewhere far out in the woods, and a flock of big black crows flew over and landed in a tree beside us.

"It's gettin' late," Erskine told us. "I'd better get you young people home on this Halloween night."
Witch Boy chose that quiet moment to let loose a loud, nerve shattering series of barks. The crows left the tree with a noisy flapping of wings, their harsh raspy voices cawing and fussing as they went.
"Look here, it's about to get dark on us," Erskine announced. "We've stayed too long out here tellin' tales. We best hurry on down the mountain while there's still light enough to navigate.
"Come on, dog," he commanded, but Witch Boy ran off into the woods.
"He'll foller us," Willie T. assured our teacher. "You don't have to call him."
Erskine grabbed hold of our hands in an exuberant grip, me on one side and Willie T. on the other, took a deep breath and broke out singing the end of the Highwayman song in a strong and surprisingly pleasant voice.
"And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees ... "
And that's the last sound we heard beforethe ground disappeared from beneath our feet.

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