PROLOGUE:
I'm Cassidy, your average nineteen year old girl. I work at a newspaper editting studio in San Francisco, California. I have the same hopes, dreams, goals and intents as everyone else. I have long, lusciously thick dark-chocolate tinted tresses and startling blue eyes that entice anyone but me.
The only difference between me and someone else my age is one minute, sparing detail.
I'm a witch. I'm not alone, however - I have two sisters, each that share the same biased Halloween stereotype.
No, I'm not one of those green-tinged skin ones in the movies from way back. I don't brew mysteriously smoking concoctions from cauldrons. My face is thankfully clear and wart free, and my nose is dead on center, not hooked and snarling like those portrayed in the movies. I have the power of seeing things before they happen, therefore classifying me as a "psychic."
Most would see that as an exciting, prosperous opportunity, to promote goodness and freedom from fear in the world. I must keep my power a secret, to prevent ostracizing and to protect the code me and my sisters share. Chantal, the ringleader of the group, posesses the power to move things with her mind, if she concentrates wholly and unconditionally. Christy can freeze time - useful antic when it comes to fighting what we classify as Demons. The whole concept of a witch can look magically fun and exciting, a game of twists and turns.
But let me tell you, dear, being psychic isn't so charming. Not in the least.
