As Rob drove to Church for the Christmas Eve Service he felt torn. For several years the place of comfort and support the Church represented had become increasingly difficult for him to bear. For the vast majority of the congregation, the Religious Dogma was rote, especially the formal prayers and creeds. Rob didn’t see anyone who put any thought into what they said thus missing what the Faith was all about. He understood he was not having a Faith Crisis, but was slowly being consumed by a Religious Crisis. For the last 5 years, He’d been increasingly unable to rouse himself from bed, only attending sporadically. The closer he came to the Church for the Christmas Eve Services, the more anxiety he felt. This brought up the question of how, at age 73, he’d reached this unsettling point in his life. During the past 47 years he’d traveled the 36 mile loop between Church and home well over 3500 times so the route had become rote. His mind switched to auto pilot as he reminisced.

Max never truly believed that his dream of becoming a magical girl could become a reality - but he never even imagined that becoming the villainess of the magical girls was a possibility! 

***

Ever since the first Magical Girls appeared, to fight against the Violet Ooze threat, Max has dreamed of joining their ranks. Not that he’s particularly interested in the girl part - no way! - but the magical bit? The being a hero bit? That’s everything he’s ever wanted in life! So when a Magical Crystal offers him an out from the mundanity of college life, he agrees without a second thought! 

Unfortunately, the Magical Crystal gets attacked by Violet Ooze during the formation of their contract! Instead of a purehearted magical girl, ready to face the forces of evil, Max ends up as the Violet Queen - the new leader of those very same monsters!

Of course, the problems don’t end there! She's got magical girls aiming for her head, powers that are fueled by people lusting after her, and - worst of all - a ‘corrupted’ crystal that insists the true threat to the world is actually the (unwitting) magical girls themselves!

Cover by my lovely friend Lulla.

CHAPTER 64
The double garage had been a sound choice. When we had narrowed our search to a couple of properties, that had been the clincher. Our estate agent (neither of us believed in imaginary estates) had been full of humour, repeating a phrase I had heard more than once before.

When the original houses were built, he said, you’d sometimes see your next door neighbour. As time went on, that compressed to hearing them, and with the current developments, where there was what seemed like six feet or so between your own eavesdrop and next door’s guttering, you could just about smell those across the property line.

The lynching tree is the oldest living thing on our farm. It was here when the first white men
came and it’s still here and growing. I guess the black folks around here have always called it that. Back when I was in elementary school Reverend Amos James began calling for the tree to be destroyed as “a symbol of white oppression.” That’s when everyone started calling it the lynching tree. Before that we just called it the big oak.