TwoSpells is a magical tale about teenage twins, Sarah and Jon, who find out that they're heirs to an ancient, magical realm containing an enchanted library that can transport a reader to anywhere or anytime the author has written into a story. They soon realize that moving through the uncharted inner-sanctums of multidimensional worlds isn't the safest nor wisest of choices.
Both are emboldened with a wondrous mystical gift that no being has ever possessed. But fate intervenes pulling them into an evolving inter-dimensional war between their kind, Irregulars, and treacherous evil forces flowing from parallel universes looking to claim the library's unique magical enchantment as their own portal to besieging and conquering all realms outside their own.
The two must rescue their world from a phantom hybrid alien race controlled by a demented dark-wizard, Jeremy Sermack. They'll either assimilate or be exterminated.
Will they embrace their true identities as Irregulars and become the valiant saviours the prophets envisioned, or will they retreat to the perceived safety of their distant homeland populated with the Regulars?
THE FRONT DOOR LAY FLATTENED, hinges bent and twisted and the sliding bolt-lock contorted. The door jam was broken and splintered.
“What is this?” Grandpa roared, waving his walking stick at the mountainous intruders. “Which one of ya’ is gonna pay for all this?”
The dust settled and the two ominous figures stood just outside the doorway, the bright moon blazing behind them. Tattooed across their pale blue foreheads were the numbers thirty-seven and thirty-eight. Each was stuffed into a suit two sizes too small and busting at the seams, barely able to contain their hulking, muscular bodies. Black, wraparound sunglasses hid their eyes from view and Sarah could tell that something strange lay behind them. One muttered into a small microphone curled toward his lips and the other stared straight ahead.
Grandpa rolled up behind them. “Collectors!”
“Collectors?” Sarah whispered to Jon. He shrugged.
“We do not!” Grandma shouted, leaning on her walker.
“Overdue book,” the other one boomed, holding out a six fingered hand.
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about ya’ thug,” Grandma said, rolling her walker closer. “Who’s gonna fix me door?”
The Collectors muttered something in another language to one another.
“We haven’t even been ta’ the bloody library in years,” Grandpa argued. “Ya’ have that written in your records?”
Thirty-seven moved closer, his hand out again. “Special text overdue.”
A reminder to the reader ~ before you leave be sure to take a look at the
Funny/Stupid and Interesting Tabs
Come back and visit again.