Michel Prince
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The Seance-30 Days of Books

11/17/2013

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Ninth grade can be a nightmare when you don’t fit in at school, your crush chooses someone else, and your parents tell you they’re having a new baby. Abby was prepared for normal high school problems. She wasn’t prepared for a demon. 

Abby has always been fascinated by the paranormal, but after an ill-fated séance, she discovers not all Spirits are benign. A dark entity unleashed during the summoning sets out to destroy Abby, and within days, she loses her best friend, incurs the wrath of her parents, and becomes a prisoner in her own home. With time quickly running out, she assembles an unlikely group of helpers: the most hated guy in school, a retired psychic, and the cute clerk from her favorite bookstore. Unless the demon is defeated, Abby and her new baby brother won’t stand a chance.

The Séance, a Dark Summons Novel, is a full-length Paranormal book for teens and young adults. Join Abby as she navigates the complexities of ninth grade, tackles the supernatural, and even finds a bit of romance along the way.


Excerpt:

The room felt closed-up and stuffy. Was it okay to open a window during a séance, or would that disturb the spirits? I decided to ignore my own discomfort and proceed. My hands were beginning to sweat, increasing my sense of self-consciousness.

“In a minute, I’m going to call the spirits.” My voice was soft so as not to disturb the mood we’d so carefully created. “Then, we’ll let go of each other and put our hands on the Ouija board.”

Martha’s eyes were wide with expectation. Yasin’s head was tipped slightly to the side, his mouth slack. He was skeptical, but I planned to change his preconceived notions about the paranormal. Before the end of the séance, he’d realize I was right all along.

I took a deep breath and began. “Oh spirits, we ask that you join us in this circle of energy. Please come to us. Communicate with us, dear spirits.”

“What if more than one shows up?” Martha whispered.

I shook my head at her and frowned. “Shhh. Concentrate on our greater purpose.” As the Medium, it was up to me to take control of the séance.

After a few moments of silence, I tried again. “Spirits of the dead, join us, be one of us, communicate with us from beyond the grave.”

A sputter erupted from Yasin. I shot him a sharp glance. His eyebrows rose and he cleared his throat. Laughter twinkled in his dark eyes. I tugged my hand from his tight grip. Martha moved her hands from mine and Yasin’s, and folded them in her lap until I motioned toward the Ouija board. I placed one finger on the planchette, the guitar pick shaped pointer. Yasin and Martha followed my example.

“Don’t push it. Just rest your fingers and wait.” The only sound in the room was our soft breathing. I couldn’t remember the séance instructions I’d read. Was I supposed to speak again, or just wait for the spirits? What if the spirits were too far away when I made the initial summon? I figured it wouldn’t hurt to call them again.  

“Oh, spirits…” A deep rumbling shook the floor next to me. A hoarse cry escaped Martha’s throat as she hurled herself away from the Ouija board.

“Sorry, sorry,” Yasin mumbled. “My phone. I had it on vibrate.”

“Crap, Yasin.” Martha’s exclamation was laced with relief and irritation. She eyed the Ouija board warily before placing her index finger back on the planchette. “Maybe we should meditate again before we call the spirits. We probably scared them away.”

With a deep sigh, Yasin closed his eyes in an act of surrender. I did the same and focused on the task at hand. This time, I felt my consciousness drift. I was aware of air filling and escaping my lungs in a slow rhythm. My body relaxed, but the index finger fixed to the planchette began to tingle. I concentrated on the feeling in my finger as it traveled up my arm and spread across my body.

“Spirits…” My voice was low, barely recognizable as my own. “Join us, speak through us, use us to convey your message.”

With these last words—words I must’ve memorized from somewhere, words I didn’t completely understand the meaning of (what the heck does ‘convey’ mean?)—a cold draft raised goose bumps across my bare forearms. I shivered involuntarily and opened my eyes. My gaze swept the dark room. The candles on my dresser went out, while yellow flames leapt wildly from the candles on my desk on the other side of the room.

My arms jerked forward as my finger, seemingly glued to the planchette, moved to the letter D. My heart was beating so hard my ribs felt like they were going to crack. Foggy puffs escaped my lips with each gasping breath. It was so cold, my teeth began to chatter.

My arm jerked again. This time, the planchette settled on the letter I. Martha whimpered softly beside me. Before I could turn to reassure her that everything was okay (which it clearly wasn’t) the planchette pulled our captive fingers to the letter E.

D-I-E

Die.

“Oh my God,” Martha whispered.

Panic consumed me. I tried to yank my hand away, but it was glued to the planchette. Something painful gripped my wrists. “Stop it,” I screamed. With my next frantic pull, my finger jerked free and I fell back, landing on one elbow.

Thoughts darted around in my brain as I desperately searched for information. Surely there was something I’d read that talked about how to deal with evil or unwanted entities. What sort of entity had we summoned? How could I have lost control over the séance?

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