Mildred doesn't like black magic. But her mother was once valedictorian of Black Magic Academy, so her aunts insist she needs to follow in her footsteps and become one too.
What's the only good witch in a school of wicked witches to do?
Rulisa doesn't want to be a good witch. She wants to be a bad witch. But after her second expulsion from a powerful magical school, Rulisa's father sends her packing off to White Magic Academy.
Why does her death-enemy keep trying to be her friend?
I became acquainted with Emily's stories through the Fantastic Schools anthology. She writes fun, light-hearted magic school fantasy with great twists. If you're looking for clean stories to share with your kids, these are a great addition. – Thomas K. Carpenter
"Every so often, I get the pleasure of reading a new book that is simply a delight from start to finish. Black Magic Academy by Emily Martha Sorensen is just such a book. Now, whenever I compare a book to Harry Potter, I get in a little trouble with the author. One author actually took to her Facebook page complaining that yet another reviewer compared her book to Harry Potter. For some reason, authors seem to take a comparison to a billion dollar book/movie enterprise as a bit of an insult. So, here's hoping that the author takes no offense when I say, with Black Magic Academy, Sorensen has given readers what Harry Potter should have been!"– Amazon review
"Oh this was a delightful tale of adventures of a poor mistreated little witch who was growing up with aunts that had rather unpleasant habits and personalities. With no warnings of any kind beforehand, Mildred was sent off to Black Magic Academy where she met a new friend, only to be told this girl was to be her death enemy and both Mildred and her new friend were meant to kill each other! Neither were keen on this idea but how were they to get out of it? Life was so complicated and unpleasant, was it ever to improve for Mildred? Was more than one friendship to be had for little Mildred? Emily Martha Sorensen does it again, with her magical worlds I simply love entering."– Amazon review
"This book was utterly delightful. What if all bad witches weren't all bad? What if some bad witches desperately want to be good? Mildred is one such witch. Isolated in Ebony Drake with her aunts (hags and other assorted nasties), Mildred has always felt different. When one aunt gets her a coveted spot at Black Magic Academy, Mildred is less than thrilled, but she does her best. This was a wonderful story filled with surprises and hope, that will keep a reader engaged from start to finish. Definitely pick this up for the teenager in your life!"– Amazon review
The entrance yawned like a gigantic mouth, complete with obsidian teeth. Mildred shivered as they walked through it, then shuddered as they headed down the hallway.
Dim candles lit dark walls, but they didn't disguise the shape of the building, nor prevent her strong impression that something was swallowing them.
WHAT were the architects thinking?
Mildred brushed against a leering statue, and stifled a shriek. It felt like it had a pulse.
"Fitting, isn't it?" The High Witch smiled. "Drakin brought them all to life one night. Or perhaps she just set Forest Beyond creatures loose in the halls — we never did figure out which. Of course, we had to put her on probation because she'd broken several rules to do that . . ." High Witch Tractia sighed. "Killing's forbidden on Academy grounds, but she would keep trying to get Welsa eaten. Too precocious for her own good, that girl."
Mildred felt sick.
"Your dorm is the same one we put your mother in originally." The High Witch smiled, touching a wall in front of them. It disappeared, and a door bubbled in its place. "I expect you to get along with . . . all the other girls in there."
Mildred nodded hesitantly.
High Witch Tractia touched the door, and it slid open.
"Go in," she said.
Mildred took a slow step through the doorway, and the door slammed behind her. She jumped. Then she caught sight of the room around her, and she shrank back.
It was huge. Thirteen beds circled the edges, with a cavernous space in the center. Twelve other girls were milling around the room, some talking, a few fighting, and one reading a book irritably. A dim chandelier flickered from the ceiling high above them, casting shadows that danced like ghosts.
"Yiella, lose those frills," one skinny girl sneered, tugging at her neighbor's bulky nightgown. "They make you look fat."
"They're supposed to," the other girl shot back. "I'm a hag."
"Hags aren't supposed to be fat," the skinny girl snorted. "Just ugly."
"Well, you aren't ugly or beautiful!"
The skinny girl gasped in outrage.
"It's a new girl!" one blonde girl squealed, pointing at the doorway. "Told you we'd get one today!"
Eleven pairs of eyes whipped to Mildred, who stepped back, unnerved. Only the black-haired girl in the back of the room didn't look up from her book.
A short, curly-haired girl hopped over to Mildred. "Who're you?" she asked. "Are you a village witch? You look like one."
"I — I —" Mildred's voice didn't seem to work right. She gulped. "I'm not. I'm from a manor. Ebony Drake."
The black-haired girl's head shot up. She stared at Mildred, eyes narrowing.
"Well, you look like a village witch," the hag said. "Boring. Like a Normal."
Several other girls in the room giggled.
Mildred swallowed. She wasn't going to mention her father.
"Who's your family?" the black-haired girl demanded, slamming her book shut. "What's your mother's name?"
Mildred blinked. "I — uh —" She looked around at the other girls, realizing they all wore black cloaks. She was glad Aunt Lilith had darkened her blue one. "D-Drakin."
"My mother's name's Lieirien," the curly-haired girl said loudly. "She was —"
"Shut up," another girl hissed, elbowing her.
The black-haired girl's ears turned crimson. "So," she said slowly. "The High Witch put us together. It's just the sort of thing she would do."
Mildred stared at her uncertainly. "Why . . .?"
"My name's Rulisa." The girl's face had flushed as crimson as her ears. "Welsa was my mother. I'm going to be your death-enemy."
Mildred's mouth opened, stunned.
"Ooh, a blood-feud!" the curly-haired girl cried. "I've always wished I had one of those! You don't even have to look for enemies then!"
Mildred's stomach tightened. Her arms shook.
"W-w-we don't have to be enemies," she stammered. "Just because our mothers — I mean, I know they killed each other —"
Rulisa's eyes flashed. "You're the reason I have no mother," she said fiercely. "You're the reason I've always been laughed at. No one respects a male witch, or the daughters he raises. As soon as we've graduated, I will kill you."
She turned and marched back to her bed.
Mildred gaped after her.
"Wow, being Rulisa's enemy . . ." A short girl shivered. "Glad it's not me."
"Lucky people with blood feuds," the curly-haired girl sighed. "It's going to take me forever to find a death-enemy, I just know it."
"Hey, I do look ugly in this outfit, don't I?" the hag demanded, turning to another of the girls in the room. "Tell me I do!"