Spellbound Statues, page 1
SPELLBOUND STATUES
REG RAWLINS, PSYCHIC INVESTIGATOR
BOOK TWENTY-THREE
P.D. WORKMAN
ABOUT SPELLBOUND STATUES
It is up to psychic Reg Rawlins and her friends to crack this petrifying curse.
Psychic investigator Reg Rawlins, reformed con artist, must confront a terrifying danger as ancient elemental spirits are unleashed and rise to seek vengeance.
With her friends, familiars, and some new faces, Reg races against time to recover powerful relics and face formidable foes. Can she tap into her inner strength to save Gideon Darkwood and restore balance to Black Sands before chaos reigns?
Dive into a gripping tale of magic, mystery, and supernatural adventure that will keep you spellbound until the final page!
Spellbound Statues is a paranormal mystery novel that will keep you on the edge of your seat. With a touch of witchcraft and a dash of suspense, this book is perfect for fans of small town mysteries, psychic detectives, magical creatures, and cats.
Dive into this spellbinding adventure today—unravel the curse before it's too late!
Fall under Reg’s spell today.
Copyright © 2025 by P.D. Workman
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
ISBN: 9781774687512 (KDP Paperback)
ISBN: 9781774687529 (KDP Hardcover)
ISBN: 9781774687543 (Lulu Paperback)
ISBN: 9781774687536 (Large Print)
ISBN: 9781774687550 (Digital)
ISBN: 9781774687567 (Auto-narrated audiobook)
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To all those willing to join hands
and save the world.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Preview of Fur and Fury
Preview Chapter 1
Preview Chapter 2
Also by P.D. Workman
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
Gideon Darkwood crept through the trees, taking the well-worn pathway to the temple in the orange grove. The moonlight filtered through the dense canopy of orange trees, casting eerie shadows that danced around him as he moved stealthily along the path. The citrusy aroma of oranges lingered in the air, but Gideon’s thoughts were far removed from their sweetness.
Though Gideon had traversed this way many times before, it was not he who had worn the path through grass and dirt. That had been formed by the feet of the warlock coven that met there regularly.
It was hard to believe that Corvin now led the coven. Back when they had been young warlocks together, it was unimaginable that a power drinker would ever be allowed to hold such a position in the coven. Back then, Corvin had been barred from even being a member of an established coven. How things had changed since then.
Corvin’s leadership of the coven had not been as successful as he had hoped. He had promised the coven members that he would share some of his accumulated powers and gifts with them if elected. And to his credit, he had followed through and tried to do that.
But things had gone awry.
What Corvin had done to merit the attack by the werewolves, Gideon didn’t know. And he probably didn’t want to know. He’d seen enough of Corvin’s nature in the past. They had worked together to maintain the spell of the Temple Orange Grove for decades. Centuries, now. He had seen many of Corvin’s highs and lows.
The warlock might have good intentions, but his inborn nature, which he could not change no matter what he willed, always twisted those good intentions into something else.
Since the attack, Corvin had cloistered himself within the walls of his home and would take no visitors. Gideon’s attempts to communicate with him had been rebuffed. Corvin said he needed some recovery time and would get back to Gideon when he was feeling better. Many rumors were flying around about the injuries Corvin had received, but Gideon assumed most of the rumors were false. He wouldn’t believe any story unless it came from Corvin’s own lips, and probably not even then.
He might approach a few of the members of the coven who had been there during the attack to get the whole story. He wasn’t sure whether any of them would talk to him. And there might be little they could tell him about the attack. Something like that, an ambush during the spring equinox ritual, must have shocked them. Completely unexpected, as far as he knew. Equinox was supposed to be a time of peace and balance. Most practitioners carefully avoided any offense or conflict that day.
Gideon followed the stones in the ground that had once been the foundations of the temple. It had stood there proudly many years before but, over time, it had fallen into disrepair, and relic hunters had removed many of the stones that had built the walls.
But Gideon was not looking for the stones of the walls.
There was another stone he sought.
Few knew of its existence, but its safety and integrity were vital for the welfare of the people of Black Sands. During the years before the stone had been laid there, life in Black Sands had been chaotic and dangerous. It had not been the sleepy little town it was now, sitting back quietly in contemplation. A place where magical practitioners had free commerce with one another. One of the safest places for psychics and witches to openly practice their craft. It had flourished for many years as the social center for all practitioners for hundreds of miles around.
Yet they were all ignorant of why Black Sands had become the magical mecca it was. That secret was shared by a select few, Gideon among them.
He found the altar stone the warlocks had placed at the central point of the temple. The herbs placed upon it were withered and dry, looking almost as if they had burned in the sunlight.
A faintly familiar smell rose to his nostrils. Pungent and earthy.
He heard a noise and startled, whirled around to look behind him. He pulled his cloak close to him in an effort to blend in to the darkness. A cloak of invisibility it was not, but the hood shadowed his face and kept it in darkness and the capacious sleeves covered his white, wrinkled hands.
Had someone followed him here? He had not seen anyone else on the road. He had watched carefully to make sure that no one could follow him. But he was not immune to mistakes.
The leaves of the orange trees rustled in the wind, and the fruit’s smell once again covered the subtle scent from the altar a moment earlier.
After standing frozen for several long minutes and seeing no movement around him, Gideon decided he had imagined it. He was being paranoid. Corvin had been injured in a werewolf attack, but that had clearly been planned for when the coven was meeting and was at their most vulnerable. No one knew that Gideon was coming here tonight. The wolves would be far away. They had reportedly left Black Sands and perhaps even Florida. They were not eager to face retribution for what they had done. Cowardly dogs that they were, they hoped that if they just disappeared for a while, people would forget what they had done, and they would not have to pay for it.
Gideon leaned closer to the altar, trying to pick up the scent he had detected a moment earlier. What was it? As old as he was, his sniffer wasn’t quite as sensitive or reliable as it had once been. He inhaled deeply, thinking he would only smell the sage and other herbs placed on the altar.
But once again, he detected the pungent smell of another herb—mandrake.
What would they have been using mandrake for in their equinox ritual?
Had Corvin incorporated it into an empowerment ritual? He had promised to share some of his powers with the coven.
Or had it been brought by the wolves? What spell could they have performed? What had they hoped to achieve with the attack on the coven, and on Corvin in particular?
Gideon bent down and brushed the dried herbs from the flat stone of the altar to examine the symbols carved into it. They were rough under his fingertips.
His heart thudded hard in his chest.
The altar stone was broken in half.
He straightened and looked around, the rustling of the leaves again raising goosebumps on his skin. Who was there? Who had followed him? Or had someone already been there, waiting for him? Had someone or something known that he would be coming there?
It was not his first foray there. He had come to the temple grove regularly over the years but had not followed a predictable schedule. He did not want people to know when to expect him there. He came and went quietly without telling anyone of his visits. He would inform Corvin after he was gone, confirming that everything still appeared to be in order and they did not have anything to worry about.
No one could have known he was coming.
“Who’s there?” he demanded, his voice cracking and sounding way too tentative for a warlock of his stature. “Show yourself.”
No one spoke or moved. Was it all just in his imagination? Paranoia because of the attack and the broken altar? Just the rustling of the wind and night animals?
“Appare et ostende te!” he again commanded the intruder to show himself. But there was still no response, and Gideon did not want to use any magic against whoever was there with him.
It was, of course, against his covenants to use magic to harm a creature who had done nothing to him. He had no idea what kind of entity might be there with him. It could be a natural ally or someone who had no intention of interfering with what he was there to do.
Not to mention the possibility of triggering an attack on himself by a more powerful practitioner. As strong as his powers had once been, they were starting to wane. He had used much of his strength over the years in this task, even though the brunt of it was supposed to be borne by Corvin.
And last but not least, he was on sacred ground. The walls of the ancient temple might be long since gone, but its magic was still there. The temple existed there still, even if it had no physical form. Even without the rocks in the foundation that remained. For him to initiate an attack on these grounds might have serious consequences. Just as the wolves now faced the possibility of war with the warlock coven, as well as the witch’s coven and several other organizations who had been offended by the attack on the warlocks and sworn retribution.
Gideon did not want to find himself in the same circumstances.
He stood there for a long time, his heart pounding hard in his ears, before he finally decided that the noises he was hearing were just the usual night sounds, like Gideon had heard every time he had come here before. The broken altar had spooked him, that was all.
He held his hands above the altar, beginning his incantation. The gem in the large ring on his finger began to heat and glow. He could feel the power of the words he spoke. He reached out, through the soil beneath his feat, to what he knew lay buried there.
A rumble sounded in the distance. At first, Gideon thought it was thunder, then realized the sky was clear, and it came not from above but from the ground. And it was growing. He could smell sulfur and felt a heaviness in the air. He had never experienced this reaction before. He raised his voice louder, growling out the words. His old hands shook. His breath came in shortened gasps.
The rumble grew into a crescendo, and the glow of the gem in his ring was extinguished.
CHAPTER TWO
When Reg wandered out to the kitchen in response to her tuxedo cat Starlight’s imperious meows and insistence that he would starve to death if she did not remedy the situation forthwith, she found a note on the coffee machine.
Sarah, the pleasant, gray-haired witch who rented her the guest cottage, knew very well that Reg could not function upon awakening until she’d had at least one cup of coffee. Preferably more. So it was a good place to put a note where Reg would see it as soon as she got up. Reg didn’t generally look at the appointment book that lived on the island in the kitchen until later in the day when she was considerably more wide awake.
Come see me and Davyn in the house
Reg yawned and scrubbed at her eyes. She wasn’t really ready for company. She needed coffee, a shower, and fresh clothing. And maybe an hour or two to get her engine running.
But she knew she wasn’t going to get all that. Sarah would expect her to be there right away, as soon as she was up. Sarah already thought Reg was a slacker for sleeping so late in the morning, regardless of how late Reg worked into the small hours of the morning.
“What do you think all this is about?” Reg asked Starlight as he noisily chowed down on the stew she’d found in the fridge. The stew that, of course, Sarah had intended for Reg to eat. “Sarah and Davyn… I hope this isn’t anything to do with the werewolf-warlock war.”
Starlight didn’t even look up from his feast. Reg shook her head. “They aren’t going to find October. He and the others knew well enough to get out of town. They won’t be sticking around to face whatever the witches and warlocks have in store for them. Do you think that the warlocks and witches would try to track them? Like, into the wilderness?”
Starlight paused in his meal and glared at Reg with one green and one blue eye. She was bothering him with her chatter. He wasn’t interested in the wars of humans. Or he already knew the answers to Reg’s questions and didn’t want to be bothered by her inane chatter.
But it helped Reg to work things out if she could say them out loud. And it helped to say things out loud if she had a cat, so people didn’t think she was just crazy.
She had been talking to the voices in her head for years, but there was no need for the general populace to know that.
“It must be something else,” Reg concluded. She hit the button on the coffee machine and waited like one of Pavlov’s dogs, her mouth watering, until her coffee cup began to fill.
Maybe she would only need one cup. Sarah would be bound to have coffee on. Or tea. And maybe some muffins or something suitable for breakfast, even if it was Sarah’s lunchtime by now.
Starlight had finished eating his breakfast by the time Reg’s cup of coffee was ready. He sat on the floor, licking his lips for a few minutes, then his front paws and face, then his back paws, one at a time, with his little bean toes spread wide apart.
Reg watched his ablutions as she took the first few swallows of her piping hot coffee, wincing at the burn. She’d better start her own morning routine if she were going to get over to Sarah’s before it was officially afternoon.
With a fresh, long, colorful skirt and blouse on and her red box braids neatly arranged under a head scarf, Reg was ready to face the day. Or at least ready to face Sarah and Davyn. She gave Starlight a few scratches around his black ears, a quick kiss on the short fur on top of his head, and headed down the stone path across the yard from the guest house to the big house where Sarah was waiting.
Reg raised her hand to knock on the door, even though she knew Sarah always told her to just go right in.
“We’re in the living room,” Sarah called out before she had the chance to decide. “Come on in.”
Sarah must have seen her coming up from the guest cottage. Reg opened the door and let herself in. She crossed through the kitchen and joined Sarah and Davyn at the front of the house.
