The Witches of Worm,New

From the Back CoverCats. Jessica's never liked them. Especially not a skinny, ugly kitten that looks like a worm.Worm. Jessica wishes she'd never brought Worm home with her, because now he's making her do terrible things. She's sure she isn't imagining the evil voice coming from the cat, telling her to play mean tricks on people. But how can she explain what's happening?Witches. Jessica has read enoughbooks to know that Worm must be a witch's cat. He's cast a spell on her, but whom can she turn to? After all, no one will believe that Worm has bewitched her...or worse!Product DescriptionCats. Jessica's never liked them. Especially not a skinny, ugly kitten that looks like a worm. Worm. Jessica wishes she'd never brought Worm home with her, because now he's making her do terrible things. She's sure she isn't imagining the evil voice coming from the cat, telling her to play mean tricks on people. But how can she explain what's happening?Witches. Jessica has read enough books to know that Worm must be a witch's cat. He's cast a spell on her, but whom can she turn to? After all, no one will believe that Worm has bewitched her...or worse!About the AuthorZilpha Keatley Snyder is the author of The Egypt Game, The Headless Cupid, and The Witches of Worm, all Newbery Honor Books. Her most recent books include The Treasures of Weatherby, The Bronze Pen, William S. and the Great Escape, and Williams Midsummer Dreams. She lives in Mill Valley, California. Visit her at ZKSnyder.com.Excerpt. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.The Witches of WormChapter OneIM SORRY, JESSIE BABY, JOY SAID.Jessica looked up from her magazine and stared at her mother, a pointblank unwavering stare that said something important by not saying anything at all. But it didnt matter, because Joy wasnt looking at her anyway.Joy was looking down into her glass. She was standing over the register in her stocking feet, warming up after a cold ride home from the office in a cable car. Her long blond hair swung down from her bent head, partly covering her face, and the heat from the register made her short skirt stand out like a dancers tutu. Standing there like that, with one foot tucked up, she looked like a dancer, or else a fashion modelor even a movie star. In fact, according to some people, she looked exactly like one particular stara sexy blond Swedish actress who played in pictures with English subtitles. Jessica couldnt say about that because the movies were the kind she was too young to get into, but she was certain of some other things. She was certain that no one would guess by looking at her, just what Joy really was. No one would suspect that she was only an overworked, underpaid secretary, for instance, and theyd be even less apt to guess that she was Jessicas mother. No one ever believed that at first, because Joy didnt look like anybodys mother, least of all Jessicas. But she wasbelieve it or not.My believeitornot mother, Jessica thought as she stared at Joy. Sometimes she called her that out loud, but when she did, Joy always seemed to take it as a compliment. Joy had started it herself, actually, by introducing Jessica that way. And this is my daughter, believe it or not, she would say to peopleall kinds of perfect strangers. And none of them ever asked why they might not believe it. Nobody had to ask. It was perfectly obvious why it was hard to believe that Joy could have a twelveyearold daughter. It was also obvious that, while Joy looked like a Swedish movie star, Jessica did not, and probably never would. But when Jessica called Joy her believeitornot mother, she meant something a little different.Still staring down into her afterwork scotch and soda, Joy shook her head slowly and sighed. Im really sorry that she was beginning again, but Jessica didnt wait to hear the rest of it. She picked up her coat and book and went out the door. She didnt hurry because she knew th