Emmy R Bennett

Writer of Paranormal, Mystery and Fantasy.

Cabin in the Woods


     “When was the last time we took a trip to Mt. Rainier?” Dad asks.

      I’m sure it’s a distraction from what’s really going on. Aunt Fran has her arm folded across her chest, looking out the window, ignoring his question.

      He looks in the rear-view mirror at me and says, “Well aren’t you all just a cheerful bunch. Come on guys, this is supposed to be a memorable family event.”

      “Yeah, some memory,” I spat. “Just admit it, Dad. We’re running again, and you know it.”

      “Is that what you think?”

      I see the coolness in his eyes. He’s trying to convince me otherwise. “When are we going to stop fleeing from the demons that you think, are chasing us? Am I not allowed to have a normal teenage life?” I didn’t wait for his answer. “Oh, wait that’s right, I’m almost eighteen. Just a few more days, and I’m out of here.”

     Dad swerves the car to the side of the road and pulls over. He turns around to face me, saying, as he points his finger, “Now you listen to me young lady. You’re not too old for me, to put you over my knee. You know exactly why we are leaving Blaine. They are close on our tail, and the mountains are the only place where we can hide.”

     I roll my eyes at him and fold my arms. All my life I remember us running. Trying to get away from the “bad men,” Dad would always say are after us. For years now, it’s a consistent battle of hide and seek. We would get settled into a new place and live there for a year, sometimes two, and bam! Uprooted again, away from the ‘demons’ Dad so passionately believes are after us. I haven’t seen so much as a ghost, let alone a demon. I straighten my back and glance out the window. “Whatever,” I say,

    After a moments pause, Dad pulls out onto the road again.

    A few hours later we reach a crossroads and he turns off the main path to a dirt lane. A sign hangs on the gate post saying The Smiths’.

   “Dad, we’re trespassing.”

   I can see him grinning in the rear-view mirror. “Did I not tell you? I have a fake ID. It’s my alias John Smith.” My aunt looks over to my dad and gives a smirk.

   It isn’t long after driving down this dirt muddy road that we come to a log cabin hidden within the trees, but this isn’t any log cabin I’ve ever seen. It looks like something out of a magazine. It has a three-car garage with river rock decorating the outer façade.  Dad hits the remote on his visor saying, “Home sweet home.”

   “Dang, Dad, where have you been hiding this place?”

   “It’s been in the family for years.”

   He pulls in, closes the garage door, and turns off the ignition. “Let’s get unpacked.”

   We grab our luggage from the trunk, and I follow Dad and Aunt Fran through the laundry room to the inside. It’s warm and inviting, looking more like a house than a log cabin.

   We reach the living room to see a fire is already lit and someone seated in a chair reading. “I see you made it,” she says.

   “Hang on a second.” I know that voice. I drop my bags and step to face the intruder in Dads home. “Rory, is that you?”

   She puts down her book. “Surprise,” she says, coming to give me a hug.

   “Rory, what are you doing here?”

   She ignores my question, and takes my hand, saying, “Come on let me show you to our room.”

   “Wait, wait, wait.” I turn around to see Dad’s pleased face.

   “You had it all planned out, didn’t you?”

   “I did mention, I can see the future.”

   “Ha ha.” I look at Rory and point. “You my dear friend have some explaining to do.”

   Dad moves to the fireplace and messes with the wood, putting another log on the fire.

   “Is this our only source of heat?” I ask. Concerned that we have no electricity.

   “The furnace will take some time to warm up. It hasn’t been on for years. In fact, I don’t even know if it still works.”

   “Great.” I walk to the switch to confirm his theory and flick on the lights, “Yes, electricity.” Then check my phone. “Great, no service.”

   “What did you expect out here in the middle of nowhere?” Fran says, lugging in more baggage from the car. “Welcome to your five-star hotel suite, princess.”

   I roll my eyes annoyed at them both and stomp up the stairs with Rory, taking one of my suitcases with me.

   “Don’t mind, them,” Rory says. “Come on, this way.”

   I can’t help but think something very odd is going on. We reach a large room at the end of the hall with bunk beds.

   “Can I take the top?” Rory calls out sprinting to the ladder.

   “I swear Rory, you act like a seven-year-old kid, who’s never seen bunk beds before.” I laugh.

   “Ha, ha. And no, I have never slept on a top bunk before. I’ve always wanted to, though.”

   “Not even sleeping over at a friend’s house?”

   “No, never. This is a first for me, Wynter.”

   “Huh,” I say, stunned. “In that case have at it, my friend.”

   I throw my luggage on the bottom bunk, and ask, “So, Rory, tell me, why are you here? I saw Dad compel you at my house.”

   “Yeah, about that,” she starts, appearing hesitant to answer. “He didn’t know who might be listening and it was a cover to get you safely here, away from the demons that are after you.

   I throw up my hands. “What demons, Rory? I swear, between you and my Dad—”

   “They are real, Wynter. They really do exist.”

   “And what, I’m just supposed to believe that?” My mind’s in chaos, trying to think of the right words to articulate.

   “Think about it, Wynter. You have been running your whole life, did you ever stop to wonder why?”

   “The move from Florida to Washington…” I say, beginning to put two and two together slowly.

Rory nods.

   “Are you saying those were demons and not men in suits chasing us?” I pause a minute. “Wait, how to you know about that?” My thoughts ramble in my head as I gently grab the charm on my neck, intertwining it with my fingertips.

   “Your eighteenth birthday is near. They will stop at nothing to find you.”

   I hear someone pound the steps. Moments later Dad bursts into the room. “They found us.”

   “What? How?” Rory says. I watch her go to the closet and grab a bow and arrow. I see her body language turn from my best friend into what some might see as a bodyguard.

   “Are you kidding me right now?” I ask, stunned.

   Rory’s eyes bulge and I see the tension in her frame, build. “No, not kidding. Jeff, get her downstairs to the basement.”

   “Rory, who are you?”

   She smirks. “Your guardian, my sweet friend. I’m known to many others as a Shadow Hunter, also as, an assassin…Now scoot.”

   This is a side of Rory I never saw coming.

   When we get to the bottom of the stairs, Aunt Fran has a shotgun loaded, and ready. She hands it to Dad. Aunt Fran begins chanting a spell from a book she holds in her right hand. I notice labradorite hanging in every windowsill.

   “How long before they are here?” Rory finally yells, as she pulls from one of the duffel bags on the floor a handgun and begins loading it.

   “What? Not a bow and arrow?” I ask.

   She gives a wry glance. “It’s my backup.”

   I watch Dad load his front pocket with extra boxed ammunition.

  “Seriously? What in the hell is going on with everyone?” I yell out in frustration.

   “They are here,” My aunt calls.


©2018 Emmy R. Bennett

Free for a limited time only

Eyes of Wynter will be available for a free download on Kindle through this weekend only. April 24th through 26th, 2020

Eyes of Wynter


For 12 hours TODAY ONLY

Different Shade of Wynter Book 2 will be offered at .99 cents. Get your copy before it goes up to $1.99 After Sunday it will go up again to $2.99 until it reaches its regular price of $3.99 on Thursday.

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This Friday, Saturday, and Sunday only you can download Eyes of Wynter for FREE!

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Friday April 24, 2020  for 12 hours only Different Shade of Wynter will be .99

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Release day April 30th, 2020! 


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Author feature of the week

Take a look at S.McPherson. Her fantasy books take you on a wild and fun ride into new creative worlds. You can follow her on Instagram.

Dark Saints Academy: The Soul Catcher by [McPherson, S]

S. McPherson

Dark Saints Academy





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Kasper Beaumont

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Chapter one


Hearing the locker door slam shut jolts my drifting mind. Rory’s voice calls from behind me. “Wynter, are you coming? Class is about to start.”

“Um, yeah, I’ll catch up.” I glance back to her and wave my hand, still listening to the resonating sounds of slamming metal ringing in my ears. I grab my books from the locker shelf and quickly trail behind her, making it just in time before the bell rings for second period. The teacher shoots me a warning glance as I scamper to my seat.

Rory smirks with an I told you so look. Sneering back at her, I shake my head in response, shrugging. We’ve been best friends since tenth grade, and she’s like the sister I never had. Hard to believe this is our senior year. It’s finals week before Christmas break and our last day of grueling tests.

“What’s gotten into you?” she whispers.

“Something is off,” I say, and I straighten my posture, placing my fingers around my neck to grab the chain that isn’t there.

“My necklace,” I whisper. I strain to think where I last remember wearing it. My dad is going to kill me if he finds it not around my neck. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t see Dad checking to see if I was wearing it, always. My cheeks flush, and my head begins to fill with fear.

“Wynter, what’s wrong?” Rory murmurs.

“My necklace. It’s gone.”


Eyes of Wynter Chapter one continued…


Eyes of Wynter won 3rd place for the month of February Readers Choice Awards 




To celebrate and thank all the readers who have voted I am discounting Eyes of Wynter Kindle Ebook to .99 for the month of March.

Eyes of Wynter   


Eyes of Wynter (Storm Bloodline Saga Book 1) by [Bennett, Emmy R.]

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Hello Readers!

I’m starting something new. Since my third book Wynter Reign is coming out soon, I thought I would treat you all to a free chapter read every Sunday for the next 38 weeks, with the first book: Eyes of Wynter.

If you can’t wait to see the next chapter the following week, I invite you to visit Eyes of Wynter available on Amazon. This book is also available on Kindle Unlimited.



Wynter’s Thoughts


Time has a way of spinning out of control. It doesn’t always go according to plan. One minute, life is beautiful, fast-growing, and in that moment, we feel alive.

Seasons bring change to that existence, making it a constant struggle.

In between these two is my coexistence where reality becomes a choice, a path for the future. This presence is where my fate begins.

Time heals all wounds they say. I’d like to know who “they” are.

As for me, my wounds are clearly open…


Eyes of Wynter : Prologue


       “Quick, she’s coming,” my sister calls out, as I glance over my newborn baby with fear. Gazing at her in my arms, I wonder how we will keep her safe from the evil that is about to be forced upon her. Hair black as night, green eyes bright as emeralds, she’s a little image of me. Sarmira, the evil queen, has me right where she wants me, or so she thinks. Me in her clutches, taking the last of our bloodline. Over my dead body. She will not win the battle this night.

     My sister prepares our bags while my husband stands guard at the door. “I hear the shadows of silence coming,” he says. “We must hurry if we are all to get out of here in time.”

     “I’m too weak. I cannot go with you,” I say, looking over at him. “Please, take this.” I rip the chain from around my neck, handing it to him. “Give this to our daughter. Have her wear it always. It will protect her from Sarmira.”

     His blue eyes glow with fury and fear, and I can see the rage inside him. I know he doesn’t like my idea to stay behind, but what other choice do we have?

     “I can hold her off, but only for a little while,” I say with urgency.

     “I can’t take this,” he says, holding the chain between his fingers. “She will destroy you without it.”

     “You must, my love, to protect our daughter. It is the only way to buy you time to the portal.” I place the swaddled baby in a hand-woven basket beside the bed. “There is no time to waste. She’s closing in. I feel it,” I voice with firmness, pushing the basket towards my sister to grab. “She will kill us all. It’s the baby she’s after.”

     “How do you know all this, Isalora? I won’t leave you,” he protests. I see the pain written on his face.

     “My father came to me in a dream warning me of the prophecy. Our daughter is the key to Sarmira’s destruction. You must go, now!”

     “I sense her company getting near,” my sister says. “We need to leave if we are to escape her wrath.”

     Tears fall from my eyes, and I feel the wetness cool my cheeks. “Promise me you will protect them, my sweet sister,” I say.

     “With my life,” she says, and she kisses my forehead.

     Then gripping my husband’s hand, I stand, saying, “Sarmira’s presence is growing closer with each second that passes. Leave now, before it is too late.”

     He gently hands me the Elven valiancium dagger crafted in labradorite. “Take this, for your protection,” he persists, and not waiting a moment more, they leave. I hear my baby’s whimpering cry echo down the hall and fade away.

     I grab parchment from my nightstand along with a pen. Not much time to write a letter. I need to warn them about the secret I bear. Sarmira may think she has the upper hand, but little does she know what I have up my sleeve.

     Chanting the spell aloud, I say:


On this full moon night, I claim what is right.

Binding them by three, one then they shall be.

When the Super Blue Blood Moon ascends,

The ties that bind then amends.


     I burn the handwritten letter in a leather-bound coffer, placing my spellbook over the ashes, and close the lid.

     Anticipating my time is short I position the box behind the stone fireplace, concealing it well, and wait for Sarmira. With my dagger in hand, I gently kiss the blade and chant another spell.

     The full moon brightens the darkness in the room. The oil lamp flickers on my nightstand revealing to me that she’s near. So, I tuck the hilt behind my skirt and wait patiently.

     Seconds later, the door bursts open in a vengeful thrust, forcing the kerosene light to blow out.

Continue to read here:

Eyes of Wynter: Prologue


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Hello fellow readers!

Hope you had a wonderful Superbowl weekend.

Exciting news to share for February:

Eyes of Wynter has been nominated for a chance to win book cover of the month for February.

If you think Eyes of Wynter is a great book cover, I would love a vote from you. This is the 1st round of 4. Only the top 100 covers will continue to the next round.

The link below will take you to Allauthor.com



More exciting news:

Eyes of Wynter will be going audio books this spring. Stay tuned for the announcement date.

There’s more!

Book 3 Wynter Reign is coming this spring. I’ll announce pre-order for Kindle, soon.



This is the third year without my husband Thom by my side. The third year without Christmas morning and the third year without the kiss under the mistletoe bringing in the new year.

It’s the first day back to school and the third year without my husband helping with the chaos of getting the kids ready.

“Mom,” I hear Jaime yell from down the hollow hall, “have you seen my new backpack grandma gave me for Christmas?”

“Did you check under the tree?”

“Oh, duh, thanks.” I hear the pitter-patter of her steps descend the stairs below.

“It’s mine!”

“No, it’s mine. Grandpa gave them to me.”

Now it’s a tug a war with my boys. Gah, will it ever end? “Tommy, let your brother have the controller. You’re five years older than him. Besides, grandpa gave that to the both of you to share.”

“But mom.”

I put my finger up. “Do not argue with me young man. You’re to set the example. Now, give it to your brother. Besides, you should be getting ready for school.”

“Fine, take it!” He shoves the toy into Kevin’s chest, knocking him down.

My five-year-old begins wailing. I’m about at my wits end with these children fighting.

“Thomas Riley, you come back here and apologize to your brother right now.”

Jaime comes rushing up the stairwell. “Mom, it’s not there.”

I pick up my youngest child and try to console him. “It has to be around here somewhere. It didn’t just get up and walk away. Why don’t you use your old backpack for now?”

“But mom, it’s so yesterday’s style,” Jaime protests.

I give her the “look.”

She stomps to her room and slams the door.

“Just another day in the life of a Williamson’s household,” I whisper. Kevin still whimpers in my arms, and I wipe the tears that come down his cheeks.

“Life was so much simpler, easier when you were here, Thom,” I say, as though he’s in the room with me. Sometimes I feel his presence, but I know it’s not possible. I’ll never forget when they came to my door with the news. Devastation hit me that day. I would like to believe he’s moved on, but how does one really know? Will the pain ever leave me?

The doorbell rings.

Who could that be at this hour of the morning?

I hear my kid’s race from their rooms and run down the stairs to see who it is.

Setting Keven on his feet I exclaim, “Do not open it! You don’t know who it is.”

I follow the kids down the stairwell as they wait patiently giggling and whispering.

Tommy peeks through the side window.

“Who is it?” Jaime asks.

My older son gives me a startled look and shrugs his shoulders. “Some man is standing outside. I can’t see what he looks like. His back is facing the door.”

Our dog, Captain, begins barking from the living room, and moseys on over with his tail wagging like a puppy. He’s twelve years old, so, his walk is a snail’s pace. We got him right after Jaime was born. This is unusual for Captain to bark. Labradors make great family pets, but not great guard dogs—at least in our family.

Tommy takes him by the collar. “It’s okay boy.”

“We will be fine. Stand aside and let me open the door, children.”

The kids wait in anticipation. I’m sure it’s because no one ever comes around to our neck of the woods. The seclusion alone would detour most anybody. We don’t even get trick-or-treaters during Halloween.

When I open the door the man immediately turns around. “Hello Eve.”

I go sheet white, and if it wasn’t for my two older kids, I think I would have dropped to the floor in shock. I allow myself to catch my breath.

“Daddy, is that really you?” Jaime asks.


©2020 Emmy R. Bennett

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