From Publishers Weekly
Weaving "authentic magickal practices into the story" (as this novel supposedly does) may make a book "PC"Dpagan correctDbut the magick does little here to assist a hackneyed plot, flat characterizations and less than enchanting writing. Dialogue is mumbled, murmured, barked, coughed, sneered, sneezed, seethed, snapped, croaked and oozed as often as it is said, but it still remains lifeless. Siren McKay, five-foot-four and with a waist-length dark braid, has just been acquitted in New York City of murdering her less than legitimate businessman lover, and returns to her hometown in rural Cold Springs, Pa. Strange fires, combated by stalwart, long-haired firefighter Thorn Tanner, have been burning there. The area is periodically plagued with these firesDthe last coincided with the birth of Siren 32 years before. Are the fires "magickal"Dconjured by someoneDas Tanner's grandmother, the witchy Nana Loretta, believes? Siren, who turns out to have certain witchy powers, is eventually initiated into the Craft. As Halloween approaches, Siren, Tanner and the colorful LexiDa retired stage magician sort through a sordid past as well as the murderous present. A soap operatic mishmash of drug trafficking, sibling rivalry, true parentage, ancient curses, murders, a professional killer named Serato and more are eventually sorted out with some help from the reading of a will and the Goddess Herself. Though flush with flaws, the novel is not without charm, and the pagan readership is large and growingDand Llewellyn knows how to market to it. Sales may turn out, in fact, to be bewitched. (Oct.) Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc.


From the Publisher
I love a good mystery! And Murder at Witches' Bluff by Silver RavenWolf is one of the most exciting ones I've read in a long time. This novel is in the genre known as "Magickal Realism" - a style which includes real magick, as practiced by people today, within the story. Not only will you have a thrilling read, but you'll also see how magick is used in practice. This is an adult-themed novel, as it seems like everyone has vile secrets they'd do anything to keep from revealing. The firefighter and Witch Tanner is an alcoholic. The police officer Billy likes women and drugs. Even the heroine, Siren McKay, has her secret: She killed the man who kept her as his mistress. The town where the action takes place is evil, too - almost as if it has its own secrets. Ages ago, many Witches were murdered here. Is the string of fires their final revenge? Will the fires destroy the reincarnated souls of the citizens who killed the Witches? Or is there a more mundane answer? Meanwhile, the number of dead bodies slowly begins to rise. Naturally, I'm not going to tell you what happens. Frankly, there are so many twists and turns to this story, you're just going to have to read it to believe it. Just when you think you've got it figured out, new revelations of horrible family secrets lead to new mysteries. So if you're looking for some fun reading that will scare your socks of, keep a copy of Murder at Witches' Bluff by your bed. I can assure you that once you start to read it you won't do much sleeping!


About the Author
Best known for her down-to-earth writing style, Silver's RavenWolf publicly entered the magickal community in the early 80's with a chapbook style newsletter. Her innovative, practical ideas on religion and magick gave rise to her popularity in the early '90's among grassroots Pagan publishers. From progressive considerations in publishing to her staunch support on discrimination issues, Silver concentrated her attention on assisting newcomers in Craft society, thereby gaining the recognition of her peers. In 1990, Llewellyn World Wide contracted her manuscript entitled "To Ride A Silver Broomstick", rocketing Silver from "that Witch in Pennsylvania" to world wide distribution. Today, her books can be read in English, Czech, and Spanish, with copies circulating the globe. With her first book release, TO RIDE A SILVER BROOMSTICK, Silver began a journey that has taken her across the United States and to audiences of thousands. Her books have become a standard reference for persons studying Witchcraft, including use in the study of Witchcraft in colleges and Universities. She is a favorite guest on media talk shows and grants hundreds of interviews every year to broadcast, magazine and newspapers across the United States.


Excerpted from Murder at Witches Bluff: A Novel of Suspense and Magick by Silver Ravenwolf. Copyright © 2000. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter 1 The time and the circumstances again called her forth. At first, she was nothing but a tiny glimmer, a bit of a spark fed by the caressing air of the mountain and the magick of ritual. The portal had been opened. She stepped through with confidence. It was, after all, her destiny. How many years had it been? Thirty-eight? Thirty-nine? More? Too many to care. She was not governed by time beyond the veil. But here . . . here her very existence depended upon the irritating measurement. She spun lazily, seeking any home among the flames of the humans. She would hide there, among the comforting fires they made for themselves. Waiting until duty called. From any place of flame or magick, she could rise. Tanner Thorn clutched the sobbing child in his arms and faced the inferno, only to fall to a defensive posture as a steaming black monster hurled itself in his path. Tanner pulled back, twisted. What the hell was that? The monster screamed, reaching out with deadly force, striking Tanner in the shoulder. The child wailed, then buried his head in Tanner's chest as he lost his balance, fell to his knees, and rolled, hanging on to the kid with an iron grip. Broken, bruised? Tanner's mind thought only of the entrance of the barn and how he was going to reach it. The monster danced, pounding its feet inches from his head. Tanner writhed, cocooning the boy with his body. "Nightmare," sobbed the child. "No kidding," mumbled Tanner, dragging both of them behind a hay bale that promptly burst into flames. The child screamed, slapping at the flames with his bare hands. Tanner wretched him away. "Didn't we send a fireman into your school?" growled Tanner. "You never try to put out a fire with your hands!" "I'm only five years old," mumbled the child. "I don't go to school." Tanner rolled his eyes, grabbed the child by the collar and wretched him away from the heavy, pounding feet of the monster. No monster. Horse. A big, black mother of a horse, snorting, eyes rolling and wild, blocking their only clear way out of here. Timbers cracked, broke, plunging farm equipment and heavy chains to the smoking floor. The child coughed. "Who are you?" "I'm the fire chief, kid." "No way, fire chiefs don't have long hair. They have black coats with yellow stripes and big helmets. You don't got any of those things." "Yeah, well, I was off duty. Get over here. Don't go scampering away from me." The child coughed again. "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers." Adrenaline pumped through his veins and his hands throbbed with power. Tanner knew what that meant, but hadn't felt the sensation in a long, long time. He tried to ignore it. "This fire is the stranger, boy. Not me." "I always wondered what a real fire looked like," said the child, who seemed to have recovered from his hysterical sobbing of a few moments ago when Tanner had found him, small back pressed to a stall, and now looked around with eyes filled with wonder. Tongues of flame rippled down the walls, snapping in bursts across the floor. Now he gazed about him, the flames reflected in his wide eyes. "You call this a fire?" sneered Tanner. "This is just a theme park for guys like me." "Mommy says that parks can be dangerous. The line on the wall says I can't get on the big rides yet. I want to go on the big rides. I want to go on the Comet." "Then we'd better figure out a way out of here, sport. That horse would be great as a goalie. Keep down!" he yanked the kid closer. "I know a way," said the child in a throaty little voice, and pointed to the far wall-that sagged, groaned, and collapsed inward. Tanner shook his head and coughed. He'd been driving on Ridge Road when he saw the flames, floored it into the Fergueson driveway, radioed in to the station, rolled out of the truck, and flew past the old woman as she screamed about this young one being in the barn . . . and now they faced Godzilla the horse or a flaming wall. Some choice. The child crawled closer to him. "Look at that!" he coughed, and pointed behind the wheeling horse. Tanner saw nothing but sparks, black undulating smoke, and screaming fire. "I-don't see-anything." "There!" squealed the child. "Behind our horse! Can't you see the fire lady?" Tanner saw nothing but flames and smoke, and realized he'd gotten himself into a hell of a fix. The noise of the fire, the screaming of the horse, the coughing of the child . . . he'd known better than to rush in here without equipment, but the kid . . . had stopped coughing. Tanner looked down at the still form beside him. Shit. The horse reared, spun, and disappeared into the smoke, leaving Tanner alone with the unconscious boy. Tanner skinnied out of his shirt and tied it around his face in a make-shift mask. "Should have done this before, moron," he muttered. He picked up the boy. Run. Which way? Nothing. He could see nothing now. The heat seared his flesh. Run. Where? He closed his eyes, squeezing out the water and smoke. And thought of Nana Loretta. "Help me, please," he whispered. The words came to him slowly, out of the smoke, out of the flames, was he out of his mind? He didn't care. He rose, clutching the child to his chest with his left arm, throwing out his right hand in a commanding gesture. "Welcome, thou fiery fiend!" he shouted, his voice cracking, guttering. "Do not extend further than thou already hast!" He stepped forward, stumbling, almost losing his grip on the boy. The flames roared. Something crashed to his right. He flinched and sidestepped. "This I count thee as a repentant act!" The fire leapt and the smoke rolled. He had to do this....(Continues)

FROM THE PUBLISHER

Renowned author Silver RavenWolf unites puzzling mystery, shocking horror and real magick in this adult-themed novel, creating a page-turning delight. As the nights of the year get longer, this is an ideal book to read curled up in front of a fire, or safely tucked under the covers.

The story of Murder at Witches' Bluff takes place in Cold Springs, an evil place with an evil history. As with many small towns, the citizens have many skeletons in their closets. As the mystery unfolds, you'll wonder if someone is willing to kill to make sure those secrets are not revealed.

Siren McKay returns to this, her hometown, to sort her head out. She has been acquitted of murdering her lover because of the testimony of a stranger. The truth is, she killed the man! But why did she do it? Why did the stranger lie to save her? And why does the entire town hate her so? Is it only because they wrongly think she is a Witch? Do they have other, darker hatred? Is she really a Witch?

Together with Tanner the alcoholic firefighter, and Billy the carousing cop, the three must stop the string of mysterious fires that are ravaging the town. Meanwhile, the body count starts to rise. Can they trust the mysterious Lexi, a retired, wealthy stage magician? What secrets does he know that he is not revealing? Which side is he really on?

And then there is the mysterious and beautiful Gemma, Siren's half-sister. Just how far will Gemma's perversions and hatred of Siren go?

This exciting novel will keep you in heart-numbing suspense as you go through the twists and turns of revelation. For exciting fiction with real magick, this book is a must!

FROM THE CRITICS

Publishers Weekly

Weaving "authentic magickal practices into the story" (as this novel supposedly does) may make a book "PC"--pagan correct--but the magick does little here to assist a hackneyed plot, flat characterizations and less than enchanting writing. Dialogue is mumbled, murmured, barked, coughed, sneered, sneezed, seethed, snapped, croaked and oozed as often as it is said, but it still remains lifeless. Siren McKay, five-foot-four and with a waist-length dark braid, has just been acquitted in New York City of murdering her less than legitimate businessman lover, and returns to her hometown in rural Cold Springs, Pa. Strange fires, combated by stalwart, long-haired firefighter Thorn Tanner, have been burning there. The area is periodically plagued with these fires--the last coincided with the birth of Siren 32 years before. Are the fires "magickal"--conjured by someone--as Tanner's grandmother, the witchy Nana Loretta, believes? Siren, who turns out to have certain witchy powers, is eventually initiated into the Craft. As Halloween approaches, Siren, Tanner and the colorful Lexi--a retired stage magician sort through a sordid past as well as the murderous present. A soap operatic mishmash of drug trafficking, sibling rivalry, true parentage, ancient curses, murders, a professional killer named Serato and more are eventually sorted out with some help from the reading of a will and the Goddess Herself. Though flush with flaws, the novel is not without charm, and the pagan readership is large and growing--and Llewellyn knows how to market to it. Sales may turn out, in fact, to be bewitched. (Oct.) Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.

Library Journal

When Siren McKay flees to her childhood home in Cold Springs, PA, she brings with her ghosts from her past and a problem that only Tanner Thorn, reluctant practitioner of magic, can solve. The author of Beneath a Mountain Moon combines a tale of murder and revenge with strong overtones of modern magic in a story that should appeal to Wiccan and New Age readers as well as general fantasy fans. For large fantasy collections. Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.

Foreword