In writing my Actual Magic series for Young Adults, I drew upon all my favorite story books I loved as a kid to create my own. As you may already have guessed, wormwood tea doesn’t really exist. I borrowed the wormwood reference from another children’s author whose work was popular in the last century. What author am I referring to? The correct guess will win you a Kindle! Send your answer to the contact email address on my website.
Here’s an excerpt:
“Of course, I am. Emily, you just need to calm down. Tell you what, you and Cupid have a seat on the porch and I’ll fix you a cup of my special tea.”
Her neighbor grimaced. “No thanks, I’ll pass.”
“The last time I drank your special tea I landed in the emergency room and had to have my stomach pumped.”
Morgann covered her urge to giggle with a sympathetic groan. “How was I supposed to know you were allergic to wormwood?”
“Whoever heard of wormwood tea?”
“Well, nobody else has, and believe me, I checked. I even Googled it.” Emily flipped open her cell phone. “I’m calling the police.”
Morgann quickly reached out to snatch the phone.
Emily easily sidestepped her hand and batted it away.
“Emily, be reasonable. What would it take to convince you my house is empty?”
“Let me and Cupid inside so I can take a look around for myself.”
“The dog stays out,” Morgann countered.
“There’s no deal unless Cupid goes inside to watch my back and help me investigate.”
Morgann acknowledged the ‘watch my back’ remark with a sweet smile. “No dog.”
“No dog, no deal.” Emily pressed the nine button on her key pad.
“Calm down! There’s no need to involve the police.”
“If Randolph’s calling for help from somewhere inside that house, that means he’s in trouble. Why don’t you want me to get him some help? You’d want me to call for help if it was you.”
“Emily, Randolph called me from Japan just this morning. He’s in perfect health. He has a lot of meetings over the next few days, but he’s just fine.”
“Well, then, someone inside that house is calling for help, and they don’t sound fine to me. In fact, the voice sounded quite weak. If you’ve been making Randolph, or someone who sounds just like him, drink that wormwood tea of yours, there’s no telling what kind of shape they’re in.”
“Randolph loves my tea,” Morgann said, a little too defensively.
Emily hardened her gaze and stared at Morgann. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”
Posted by Deborah McTiernan
Author of Lilly Noble & Actual Magic
Dares readers to believe in themselves and discover the magic within!