New Year’s Day

It is just after midnight on New Year’s Day when Addie Beaumont knocks on the door of my aunt’s shop. I’d stayed the night with Eloise, mainly to watch the fireworks in town from the room upstairs, a storage area full of boxes and insane clutter. Eloise is a closet hoarder.

“People should be kissing and doing, I don’t know, things other than wanting to channel entities on New Year’s,” Addie complains when I open the door.

I grin. “This is my New Year’s Resolution.”

“What? Using your powers?” In black denim, a hoodie, and combat boots, Addie looks ready to take on the world. It makes me wonder what kind of New Year’s resolutions she’s made.

“To start mastering my powers.”

“Harper’s a go-getter,” Aunt Eloise calls from the back of the shop. Pulling the hoodie up on her onesie unicorn pajamas, she waves at Addie before disappearing down the back basement stairs.

Addie laughs. “Only Eloise could pull that off.”

“You should have seen her on Christmas.” Locking the shop behind her, I lead the way to the reading room.

A small lamp is the only light in the space, and I turn it on, the dim glow casting as many shadows as it does light.

“The mortal clients must dig the dimness. It was a bitch tattooing you in this light,” Addie says.

Two chairs rest at a small table, on opposite sides facing each other. I take one of them, and Addie takes the other. Paper and pencils rest on the surface between us.

She looks at me, her eyes wide behind her glasses. “You’re sure about this.”

“Are you?”

“Fuck it, let’s do this.”

Her words tug a smile out of me, and I place my hand on the table. A witch and a psychic summoner. That’s what New Year’s looks like in Havenwood Falls. For the two of us, anyway.

My hand starts to tremble, and I glare at it. “I want to know more about myself,” I say aloud.

With a speed I don’t expect, my fingers grab a pencil and move to the paper, scratching words faster than I can keep up with them. The light in the room flickers.

Darkness. Light. Darkness.

When it pops on again, shadows circle us, but these shadows aren’t from the dim lighting. These are the ghosts from the ridge, the specters who held down Gillian until she was taken away.

“Holy shit!” Addie exclaims.

The shadows start to whisper, each of them edging toward me, expectant. I know if I told them to go somewhere or do something, they’d do it. Power fills me, the feeling so strong and amazing, I have to remind myself not to abuse it.

“Talk to me,” I demand.

My hand continues to write. Athame. Magic. Necromancer. Artifact. This is how you became.

Addie leans over the paper. “Athame? The one Gillian used against you at the ridge?” Her eyes narrow. “Necromancer . . . a necromancer’s athame.”

Our eyes meet. The words don’t flow as easily as they did on Thanksgiving, and I wonder if it’s me being too cautious.

“A necromancer’s athame. Life,” I whisper. “She stabbed my mother with it. That would explain how it saved me.”

Addie glances at the Hell ghosts. “And how you can do this. This is fucking creepy. I hope you know that, Harper.”

Like her, I glance at them. “Bring us the scotch in the shop,” I command.

One of the shadows departs the back room only to return seconds later, the bottle of liquor landing on the table in front of us. We both stare at it.

“Fucked up,” Addie mumbles. Grabbing the bottle, she opens it, upends it, and takes a swig. “Yeah, this called for that.”

My hand races back to the paper, scribbling furiously.

“Addie,” I breathe.

She glances at the words, her face going white.

“Leave us,” I cry.

The shadows vanish, and my pencil clatters to the table. Grabbing the scotch, I take a swig. I may not understand most of what I’ve written, but I know enough to realize it’s not good.

“I’m sorry,” I breathe. Addie takes the paper, stands, and stares down at me. She doesn’t even have to say anything. I stop her before she can. “My lips are sealed.”

“What you just did,” she swallows hard, “it was crazy amazing, Harper. You’re right. You do have incredible power.”

Standing, I place a hand on her shoulder. “If you need anything . . . if I can do anything . . .”

Addie crumples the paper in her fist. “I’m going to kill that son of a bitch.”

Picking up the scotch, I offer it to her. “Is that a New Year’s resolution?”

“It’s something,” she says, upending the bottle once more before rushing to the front of the store. “Look—”

“Go,” I tell her. “I understand. I just hate I’m the bearer of bad news.”

“No, you’re the opposite of that. You’re shedding light on the truth.” At the door, she gives me a small smile before slipping outside.

“Happy New Year’s,” I whisper, the door banging shut behind her.

For a long time I stand at the door, my eyes on the street, my hands tucked into the pockets of a navy hoodie. Pajama bottoms decorated with cameras cover my legs. My feet are stuffed into socks and unicorn slippers. The slippers are courtesy of my aunt.

A rumble rises down the street, headlights swinging as a truck pulls onto Eleventh Street, stopping in front of the shop. There’s something reassuring about the man I know is driving it. He’s strong in a silent, steady way that’s fortifying.

The driver’s side window rolls down.

My lips curve into a smile.

* * *

We hope you enjoyed this story in the Havenwood Falls series of novellas featuring a variety of supernatural creatures. The series is a collaborative effort by multiple authors. Each book is generally a stand-alone, so you can read them in any order, although some authors will be writing sequels to their own stories. Please be aware when you choose your next read.

Other books in the main Havenwood Falls series:

Coming soon are books by Belinda Boring, Heather Hildenbrand, Amy Miles, Stacey Rourke, and more.

Look for Havenwood Falls High, a Young Adult series featuring the town’s younger residents.

Immerse yourself in the world of Havenwood Falls and stay up to date on news and announcements at . Join our reader group, Havenwood Falls Book Club, on Facebook at