Don't Get It Twisted - YA Paranormal Urban Fantasy
Avice Sinclair knows she’s a witch, but no one else does. When the boy she’s been crushing on (Esmond) comes to her and kisses her, a world she never knew existed opens up and all the lies her mother’s been telling her come to light.
As Esmond takes Avice on a musical journey they must hide from Death—like actual Death the grim reaper themselves!
If Avice can manage to trust herself enough, she might just be able to discover new witchy abilities she never knew she had, and save the love of her life from Death themselves.
This was my NaNoWriMo 2022 novel and is in second draft stage, but the first chapter is copied below for your reading pleasure!
If you are interested in seeing any of my manuscripts, please contact me.
DON’T GET IT TWISTED
A musical journey in finding the things we thought we lost
by
Carmen DaVinleam
Chapter One
Esmond had a girlfriend the first time we met. Don’t hate; I didn’t know that he did.
He opens the door and I slip into the dark room behind him. Also, don’t just start throwing shade at me because no, I do not have a secret relationship with this boy. It’s just that we’re photo-lab partners so we work together a lot. Would I like a relationship… maybe—if it wasn’t secret, and he wasn’t attached. But he is taken, so I stay in my own lane, and squash back my feelings at every turn.
His phone buzzes and he growls, frustrated. The light from his phone lights the space. Her name stares up from the screen—Kayleah Tupper Gibbs—over a photo of her in her blonde pigtails blowing a kiss. I set my bag down and turn on the redlight so I can see properly. I begin prepping the lab. “Give me a sec, Avice,” Esmond says and then exits the room as he answers his phone.
They must be fighting again because she’s yelling as the door closes.
Let’s be super clear, I even stayed in my own damn lane when he told me he was thinking of leaving her. I encouraged him to stay because I’m not a monster. I try to support other women, even if I don’t know or like them. I asked him if there was anything he could do better, to maybe help her. Maybe she was being ‘bitchy’ (his words not mine) because she was overwhelmed and needed something more from him.
I close the black curtain in front of the door and pour out the chemicals needed to develop our film. With the project due by next week, we’ll both need to print our best photos. This is our last chance. If I go ahead and get started—while he argues with her—we should have enough time for all of them to be processed.
He comes back in the room as I’m setting the canisters for our film out. “Sorry,” he says.
“No problem. Anything in particular this time?” I ask him.
“She wants us to match for prom.” He rolls his eyes. “She didn’t like it when I asked her if the dresses would show our knees.” Esmond chuckles. His laugh is infectious. “She said pink is not my color.”
“I’d have to disagree. I think you’d look great in pink.” I smile at him, and he laughs. “But, maybe next time, instead of making a joke, listen to her.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He elbows me playfully and we set about getting our photos developed. I know this story will probably last a while, even though their conversation had only lasted a few minutes. Whenever they argue he always finds a way to ask me, “but what would you want to do if it were, you and me?” and today is no different. He’s asked me again, and I have to answer.
“This isn’t about me, it’s about you listening to your girlfriend.” I try and bite my tongue as much as I can. I want to scream, ‘I’d just be happy to be there with you, we could both go in pink tutu’s, nothing else would matter,’ but instead I just give him relationship advice.
Who knows, maybe my advice will stop working one day and they’ll separate. I sometimes wonder if she would be happier without him.
Though I’d be happy with him so I’m sure that’s just wishful thinking.
You know, wishful in the sense that if they separated, they’d both be happier—and that wouldn’t make me a relationship-wrecker. Because then not only would she be happier, but then he would, too. They wouldn’t be fighting all the time.
There wouldn’t be squabbles in front of the entire school after football games because he wanted to go out with his friends while she wanted to go to ‘Lovers Lane.’ No more yelling at each other over facetime calls while switching classes. There’d be less of them almost breaking up when he catches her eyeing other football players. Maybe if they parted, it would be amicable; no harm no foul—and I wouldn’t be the witch.
Too bad I really am a witch.
Technically speaking I could twiddle my fingers and their relationship would cease to exist. His girlfriend would believe whatever I wanted her to believe; depending on the spell I cast. Any of the spells would remove Esmond from her mind and replace him with some non-existent boy—so when she saw Esmond going down the school halls, she wouldn’t have to feel the breakup all over again. She would also be removed from his mind, replaced by some other girl that also never existed. But honestly, I’d feel sorry for the girl who never was, too. Losing such a great guy.
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