The Bell Witch Series Books 1 - 3: Scary Supernatural Horror w...

The Bell Witch is real. And her terrifying game has begun…In Black River, Tennessee, there is a legend hiding in the shadowy trees. The Bell Witch, a vile, vindictive spirit, is said to haunt the dark woods. Driven by rage, she stalks the descendants of four ancient families—cursed bloodlines, doomed to play out her sadistic game for eternity.Until four young survivors take a stand, and vow to end the witch’s curse once and for all. Their journey will pit them against death, madness, and demonic forces. But if they fail, the witch’s curse will claim a new generation of souls…This volume contains books 1 - 3 of The Bell Witch series:The Harvest (Book 1): When a member of each family stumbles upon the witch’s cursed music box, they are forced to journey into the dark and twisted woods in search of the keys to their salvation.Sacrificial Grounds (Book 2): A bloody confrontation with the witch’s cult forces the group to flee into her decrepit old house, where they must each confront their darkest fears…The Witch Cave (Book 3): Vowing to destroy the Bell Witch once and for all, the four survivors venture into a network of flooded tunnels, where demonic spirits torment them with nightmares of the past. And the only way out requires one of them to make the ultimate sacrifice…

From the Inside Flap

Cadwyn eased up on the brakes and pulled his motorcycle into the gas station. The 2016 Triumph Thruxton's primal growl echoed over the open slab of concrete. In anticipation of the Harvest, he had slept as much as he could. It didn't really matter, though. Stonebridge and Black River were separated by a seventeen-hour drive. With a full shift on top of that, there was no way to avoid the effects of sleep deprivation. He clung to the hope that the others arrived promptly, allowing them the luxury of a full night's sleep in a proper bed. The leather of his riding gear crackled as he swung a long leg off the bike. He stumbled. The extended ride had turned his muscles into stone. Pain sparked under the waves of pins and needles that covered his skin. Cadwyn swallowed a few curse words and carefully stretched out his legs, his back, his arms. Caffeine. The reminder made him turn toward the door. Halfway there, he recalled he also needed to fill up his Thruxton. At least the extra pacing helped to work the blood flow back into his legs. That done, he retraced his steps back to the gas station, ignoring the few people who were watching him. The dawn was pushing against the horizon, giving the gas station a thin but steady flow of early risers on their way out and people just coming off of night shifts. He remembered entering the doors. Then everything was covered in a fog, clearing after he had been staring at the drinks fridge for who knew how long. It would put his organs through hell, but he gathered up a half dozen energy drinks, the kind loaded with enough caffeine to put an elephant into cardiac arrest. Cadwyn guzzled down one of the cans as he made his way to the counter. "Hey," the bored clerk said. Cadwyn forced a smile in greeting and held up the can he was working on to make sure they added it to his bill. The others, he dumped on the counter. "Pump five, thanks." "Long night?" The clerk chuckled. "It's going to be a long week," he replied, glancing up as he started to count out a couple of bills. A looming abyss reared up behind the man, a dark shadow the overhead lights couldn't touch. It was thick and wide and lunging toward Cadwyn. He jumped back, knocking over a display and scattering candy bars across the floor. "Hey!" In the space of a blink, the shadow dissolved, leaving only a confused minimum wage employee. "Are you all right?" "Yes." Cadwyn rubbed a hand over his face, digging his knuckles into his eyes. "I'm fine. Thanks. Sorry." He had just begun to gather up the bars when the clerk came around and helped him. "It's okay, I've got it." "I'm really sorry," Cadwyn said. The clerk took the bars and studied Cadwyn carefully. "Are you okay to drive?" He nodded rapidly and got to his feet, making sure to leave the change as an apology tip. Another of the energy drinks was gone by the time he had returned to his bike. He could feel it strumming through him like a live wire. It still wasn't enough to drive the dry, aching feeling from his eyes. A few swift smacks and the cool air helped a little. Call someone. The thought seemed to come from a distant echo chamber. It took a few seconds for him to realize what his own mind was telling him. The Bluetooth in his helmet would allow him to keep a conversation going. The question was who he would call. His clouded mind dredged up the answer that left him cold. Rudolph. Crushed under a wave of guilt and grief, he didn't notice the first patters against the high metal awning. It was only when it picked up speed and became a downpour of hail that he paid it any attention. A moment later, his brain caught up with why. It doesn't sound right. A lighter tinkle. A different pattern. The morning sun drove back the shadows, illuminating the tiny objects falling from the sky. His stomach clenched, almost forced the sugary drink back up his throat. Clamping a hand over his mouth, he swallowed rapidly and fixed his eyes on the ground. Soon enough, the constant stream of falling teeth bounced into his field of vision, their jagged ends encrusted with withered flesh and stained with blood. She's trying to stop you. They're not real. Knowing that didn't make it any easier. After stowing away the drinks, he shoved his helmet on. Teeth scattered around his feet as he threw a leg over his bike. Through the tinted visor, he caught sight of the downpour once more. Fine tremors shook his hands, remaining even while he twisted his grip around the handles. His stomach rolled, sloshing the minimal contents of his stomach and threatening to bring it back up. Falling teeth caught on the wind, swirling as they fell until they completely covered the ground. Cadwyn squeezed his eyes closed to block it out. Before he could calm his rapid heartbeat, sleep reared up within him, and he was forced to open them again. Forced to watch the unnatural rain, to hear the tiny patter as they skittered across the ground. He gagged. You have to go. You have to keep moving. You're running late. The motivation gave him enough strength to stomp down and bring his bike roaring to life. The familiar sound covered the worst of the noise, but there was still the sight to deal with. It's just hail. Instead of the phone call, he turned on his music, pushing up the volume until he couldn't hear the teeth crunch under the wheels of his bike. Clenching his jaw until it ached and unable to quell the tremors that racked his body, he peeled out. Just get to Black River.

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