Countdown to Release

Two Masters

Jaclyn is an Idaho farm girl who grew up loving to read. She developed a love for writing at a young age and published her first book in 2013. She met her husband, Steve, at BYU, and they have six happy, crazy children who encourage her to keep writing. After owning a bookstore and running away to have adventures in Australia, they settled back down in their home in Utah. When Jaclyn isn’t herding her kids to various activities, she serves on the board for her local arts agency, runs a writing workshop, and stays up late writing books in various genres.

Jaclyn’s Young Adult books include The Luck Series, Lost in a Fairy Tale series, Magicians of the Deep, and Two Masters. 

Gwen’s family had only one rule—stay out of Grandma’s garden. And if it wasn’t for her annoying cousin, she never would have broken it. Everything seems fine until she pulls an ancient book from the old well inside.

And pays for it.

A dark magic is unleashed from its prison, and Gwen becomes its new host. Now, not only does she have to learn to use her own magic, she must also keep the dark magic from taking over her soul. Some rules are made to be broken. But breaking this one may just destroy the world. 



“Maybe you should stay over there.” Mom pulled Josh closer and pursed her lips. “On second thought, I want you to go make some tea. I need you to listen carefully. There’s a small blue bottle in Grandma’s room in the bottom drawer of the armoire—”
“But that one’s locked,” I blurted. Grandma’s armoire had been another mystery that we loved to make up stories about. A large keyhole sat in the center, and it was always locked. The adults insisted it was just her clothes, but we knew better. Why would Grandma lock up her sweaters?
Mom took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I know. You need to listen. The key is in a small compartment below the armoire. You have to run your hand over it and then say, aperta pro amicis. Got that? Repeat it back to me.”
“Wait, what? Why?” I’d never heard Mom speak a different language in my life, and now she wanted me to speak in Latin? And it wasn’t just that. The words had some kind of . . . feeling that came with them.
“Gwendolyn,” Mom snapped.
“Aperta pro amicis.” I knew I butchered the words because they didn’t have the same feel to them, but my mind was too frazzled to think.
“Say it again.” She repeated the words again and had me say them back until I had it exactly right. “Okay, now remember, it’s a small blue bottle. Grab the small spoon sitting next to it and then close the armoire. Don’t forget to lock it.”
“Do I have to say anything to hide the key again?” My heart thudded in my chest as I ran over the chant again and again in my mind.
Mom shook her head. “Just put it back, and the armoire will reseal itself. Use that spoon—only that spoon—and scoop out three spoonfuls of the powder into a mug of steaming water, then stir it seven times clockwise. No more, no less. Got that?”
I shook my head. “Why can’t you do it?”
“Gwendolyn Jane, I need you to do this right now. I’m the only thing keeping Josh alive right now, and I need you to help. You can do this. You have to do this.” Mom turned back to Josh and whispered something under her breath.  

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