Bree Blake is just a normal teenager, living a normal life with her normal friends and normal family. She's normal, sure ... if it's normal to be able to spy on her boyfriend through visions and summon windstorms when she's angry. So maybe Bree Blake isn't so normal after all, but her uniqueness is her own little secret-that is, until the arrival of Andrew-a handsome Scottish boy who insists on becoming Bree's friend.

Bree suspects that Andrew may be onto her. She suspects he may know about her mysterious abilities, and this worries her. More worrisome, though, are the recent attempts on her life, which seem to coincide with Andrew's arrival.

Should Bree trust the sexy Scot, or should she avoid him altogether? Does she even have the willpower to avoid him? She may not have the freedom to make her own decision, as the secrets of her past bring them closer together. A story of love, magic, and mystery, Bree's Fire will make you believe in the unbelievable, as one young woman navigates her path through the ways of Wicca ... and, perhaps, love.

"I absolutely adored this thrilling page turner. I couldn't put it down and ended up getting lost in a magical world where romance and action intertwine perfectly."
Ariel Jorre de St. Jorre, sixteen year old reader

Bree's Fire

By Eva Roy

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2010 Eva Roy
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4502-5943-9

Chapter One

The Newcomer

Glace Bay, Nova Scotia, October 2004

The weather matched Bree's mood—grey and lousy. She pulled the hood of her jacket up to shield her hair from the cold drizzle and glanced at Sylvie, who was walking beside her. In spite of her mood, Bree smiled. She couldn't understand why her fashionista friend insisted on wearing that awful yellow rain hat; it looked like it belonged to one of the town's fishermen. Sylvie's long, black—and now soaked—hair was plastered to her back, and her lips moved soundlessly. Based on Sylvie's concentrated look, Bree assumed she was mouthing the lyrics of one of her own tunes.

Bree knew that Sylvie would rather be working on her music than attending swim practice, but ever since they had been toddlers, Bree had led and Sylvie had followed. Now that they were sixteen, that meant Sylvie had joined Bree on the school's swim team. Bree occasionally felt guilty for forcing Sylvie to tag along, but today she had a more important problem.

"I think Peter is fooling around," she blurted out. "I'm so mad. We haven't even been together for a month yet."

Sylvie pushed aside the rim of her wide hat and looked at Bree. "Why d'you think that?"

"It's just a feeling," Bree said, kicking the wet leaves sticking to the sidewalk. "He's always hanging out with Lucy, and—I don't know. I guess I'm still finding it hard to believe he'd go out with me."

Sylvie bit the inside of her cheek as she considered her response. "Maybe he's changed. Maybe he doesn't care that you're not as popular as he is."

"Not as popular!" Bree snorted. "Try doesn't care that I'm a freak."

Sylvie stopped walking and stared at her. "Stop saying that. You're not a freak."

Bree could easily name a dozen people who reminded her daily that she was, but she'd already had that argument with Sylvie too many times to count, so she let it pass this time. "Back to Peter. What should I do?" she asked as they resumed walking.

"Why don't you try `seeing' if he's cheating?" Sylvie suggested.

Bree's eyebrows shot up. "Get a vision, you mean? To spy on my boyfriend?"

Sylvie shrugged. "Why not?"

"Are you crazy? My mother would kill me. I promised I wouldn't do it anymore."

"She'll never know."

"Still, I did promise." Just the night before, her mother had once again lectured her on the importance of acting normal, as if Bree didn't already know the price of not fitting in.

"How can you resist?" Sylvie asked. "If I could, I'd be doing it all the time."

"Really? To see what?" Bree couldn't believe her shy friend would have the nerve.

"Lots of stuff. Like first I'd check out Tony," Sylvie sighed. Although some boys considered Sylvie's dark, sultry looks hot, she might as well have been invisible for the number of times Tony had spoken to her.

Bree shook her head. "Forget it. Tony's a geek. He's only interested in his lab rats."

The square, brown brick building of the city's sports complex appeared around the corner.

"I so do not want to swim," Sylvie complained, grimacing.

"Come on, it's not that bad. Anyway we have to get ready for this weekend's meet."

"Wonderful," Sylvie said sarcastically. "My two favourite things in one week: a swim meet and the dentist."

"Oh come on. We'll have fun. I promise," Bree said as they climbed the stairs to the front entrance. "So what do I do about Peter? Ask him? Or pretend everything is fine?"

Sylvie followed Bree into the building. "Pretend?" she asked smiling. "You couldn't pretend even if your life depended on it."

Bree's lips curled into a slight smile. Sylvie was right; holding her tongue had never been one of her strong points. "I guess I'll talk to him after practice," she sighed as she opened the door to the locker room. "He's coming to pick me up." Bree wasn't sure she even wanted to know if he was cheating. By going out with Peter, she finally wasn't the school weirdo anymore. What if he was fooling around? She would have to go back to being an outcast. Not a good place to be.

During practice, Bree kept glancing at the bleachers, expecting Peter to arrive. Where could he be? What if he was going out with her as a joke? Could she be that stupid? Maybe she should "see" what he was up to. Just a peak. It wouldn't take too much time. And Sylvie was right; her mother would never find out.

Bree hoisted herself out of the pool and nonchalantly walked towards the water fountain. She took a sip and then, as if to catch her breath, leaned against the wall and turned to watch her teammates swim. Only Sylvie, who gave her the thumbs-up, knew what she was doing.

Although visions sometimes appeared spontaneously, Bree had developed a ritual for when she wished to focus on a specific subject. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and retreated inside herself. Within seconds, she no longer smelled the stench of chlorine or heard the swimmers' splashes. As if she had fallen to the bottom of the pool, a cocoon of silence and stillness surrounded her. Imagining her energy as thousands of fireflies soaring through her body, she gathered the flickers of power to her chest until they formed one brilliant, burning orb of fire. Then, drawing from that source of energy, she probed her mind to gain access to a world invisible to the naked eye.

Her body grew so warm that the droplets of water that still clung to her skin instantaneously evaporated; even the roots of her hair dried as if she was standing under the midday sun. She finally found the corner of her brain she was searching for, and like a burglar breaking into a house, she forced her way in. Ruby red dots appeared behind her eyelids from the strain of her effort. She exhaled slowly, opened her eyes, and stared at the water, willing it to reveal Peter's whereabouts.

Past the shimmering surface of the pool, she fixed her gaze on the play of blues, greys, and greens in the water's varying depths. The shadows deep in the water shifted into a shape that Bree recognized as Peter. Lucy stood beside him, way too close to be just his friend. It was difficult to discern their expressions, but Peter leaned towards her until their lips touched. It was not a friendly kiss but a deep, long, passionate affair. Grunting, Bree clamped her eyes shut, and the vision disappeared. She strode back to the edge of the pool, dove in, and furiously swam for the rest of the practice.

"So what's up?" asked Sylvie as they showered following practice.

Bree wished the hot water running down her face would also wash Peter out of her life. "I'm gonna kill him," she muttered.

"That answers my question," Sylvie said, frowning. "I guess you'll talk to him?"

"You mean before I kill him?" Bree asked as she turned off the tap. She walked into the changing room, opened her locker, and threw her goggles into her bag.

Sylvie followed her into the room and pulled a towel from her bag. "I'm sorry it wound up this way, but Peter isn't your type anyway, is he?" she asked gently as she wrapped the towel around her body.

Bree dropped down onto one of the benches. "I guess not. But ... you know. I just thought that ..."

"That you were one of the gang," Sylvie finished for her.

"Yeah, I guess," Bree muttered, her eyes filling with tears.

Sylvie sat down beside Bree and slid her arm around her friend's...