Buon lunedì, prodi seguaci!🩸

La scorsa settimana ho avuto la vendemmia, un’attivitĂ  molto romanticizzata ma della quale quest’anno ho assaporato tutta la pericolositĂ  semi-amputando un dito a mio fratello con una forbiciata. Quindi, mentre voi – presumibilmente – leggevate il mio ultimo post, io ero al pronto soccorso in attesa che mi ricucissero il fratello (che adesso sta bene e non mi ha nemmeno ripudiato come sorella). Il prossimo anno mettetemi in mano solo forbici dalla punta arrotondata, grazie.

Quindi, mentre mi rimetto in pari a leggere i vostri blog e i vostri commenti, vi lascio una citazione da A Song Below Water di Bethany C. Morrow.

Next to me, Isabella pulls herself together and addresses it in a businesslike tone. “Please tell us what happened here the day she played the game.” 

“Do the trick.” Whoever it is, they ignore an eloko entirely. That’s something you don’t see every day. “We like the trick, do the trick.” 

“What trick?” I ask. Then it comes to me. Maybe they weren’t ignoring her after all. “Play your bell for them, Isabella.” 

She does, and her melody fills the trunk of the giant sequoia with beautiful sound. 

Not good enough. “Do the trick. Do the trick.” 

“I don’t think that’s what they meant,” Isabella tells me. 

“Red Rover, Red Rover, send Effie on over.” 

“They want us to play with them,” Isabella whispers like it’s an option. 

“Yeah, that doesn’t go so well,” I whisper back. “No, thanks.” 

“Do the trick. Two will come, and one will stay.” 

“What?” But instead of an answer, I hear a breath behind me and twirl around. It’s a sighing sound, but really forced. Dramatic for no reason. This thing is like the Cheshire cat. I guess sprites can fly, or levitate, or I don’t know, float. It’s behind me, then above me, then somewhere out in front.

“That sounds like a threat.” Isabella’s understandably terrified. 

This was a bad idea. 

“Do the trick again.” It’s a broken record. “We like the trick.” 

“What trick!” I feel a little bolder now, even taking a step toward where the voice seems to be now. If this is how everything ends, I’m gonna get an answer, at least one. At least this one, since I haven’t cracked Mama Theo on any other mysteries in my life. 

Nothing. 

We wait for five minutes or so. Then five more. Just like that, the sprite’s gone, and I’m itching so bad I can barely see straight. 

Tavia is already at odds with the world, forced to keep her siren identity under wraps in a society that wants to keep her kind under lock and key. Nevermind she’s also stuck in Portland, Oregon, a city with only a handful of black folk and even fewer of those with magical powers. At least she has her bestie Effie by her side as they tackle high school drama, family secrets, and unrequited crushes.
But everything changes in the aftermath of a siren murder trial that rocks the nation; the girls’ favorite Internet fashion icon reveals she’s also a siren, and the news rips through their community. Tensions escalate when Effie starts being haunted by demons from her past, and Tavia accidentally lets out her magical voice during a police stop. No secret seems safe anymore—soon Portland won’t
be either.