Your walls are a reflection of your personality, so let them speak with your favorite quotes, art, or designs printed on our custom Giclee posters! Choose from up to 5 unique, high quality paper types to meet your creative or business needs. All are great options that feature a smooth surface with vibrant full color printing. Using pigment-based inks (rather than dye-based inks), your photos and artwork will be printed at the highest resolution, preserving all their original detail and their full-color spectrum. Browse through standard or custom size posters and framing options to create art that’s a perfect representation of you. Gallery quality Giclee prints Ideal for vibrant artwork and photo reproduction Matte finish with an acid-free smooth surface Pigment-based inks for full-color spectrum high-resolution printing 45 lb., 7.5 point thick poster paper Available in custom sizing up to 60” Frame available on all standard sizes Frames include Non-Glare Acrylic Glazing
If You Think I'm A Witch You Should See My Sister Svg, Funny Halloween Svg, Witch Svg, Halloween Svg, Funny Halloween Png, Digital Download Welcome to Cloud Studio Design These designs are great for making stickers, adding to clothing, personal invitations, printed invitations, greeting cards, web graphics, digital scrapbooking and much more. All works in this store are digital products. You will not receive any products in the mail. You will not receive a physical item. The file contains PNG, SVG, DXF, AI, JPEG formats. You will be able to download the files immediately after the payment is received. You can reach items from purchase section, after payment approval. I DO NOT ACCEPT RETURNS, EXCHANGES, CANCELLATIONS. BUT IF YOU HAVE ANY PROBLEMS PLEASE CONTACT US!
Tell it how it is, Witch. Own your power. Let everyone know that your Wiccan spark is not a trend. You're a Witch, full-time.
I'm Not a Witch. I'm a magical disaster in progress. Funny witch quote digital download. Use it to print wall art for your home, or stickers or whatever you like. Print it as much as you need. In PDF, SVG, JPG and PNG file. Put a little bit of Witch magic into your life with this digital download.
Get ready for spooky season in this women's I'm not a witch Halloween tee. FEATURES Short sleeves Crewneck FABRIC & CARE Solid: cotton; Heather: cotton, polyester Machine wash Imported
The term 'witch' carries a negative connotation and has for a very long time. Discover the beauty of what it actually means to be a witch!
I’m still finishing up my fall/Halloween books! I think this is the last. Emerson Wilde is a Type-A Chamber of Commerce President in Missouri and loves (I mean really really loves this freaki…
Loathe to want her. Annoyed to want him. Destined for more. Pepper Everyone wants the services of a witch. Spells and potions are my commodities, even though humans are skeptics and supernatural creatures are in hiding, making it harder than ever to make a living. When a distant relative asks for my help, I try to say no. Dreams of my death haunt me whenever I'm in this town, but I can't deny the only family I have left. And then I meet him. The Fae Prince. He despises me on sight, but I want him more than I've ever wanted another man. What's up with that? Lorcan The past never leaves me. It's left a bloodstain on my hands I can't seem to scrub clean even though it's been centuries since I killed the Trappers. The Fae King has given me the task of bringing my sister home to the Summer Court. A task I relish until I meet her. The witch. Now the past is in my face. A beautiful face that I want to kiss when I should loathe the sight of her. I can't stop thinking about her. The more time I spend near her, the worse my obsession gets. Then the past becomes the present, and I'm faced with losing more than I ever imagined possible. Fae's Witch is the fifth standalone romance in the Summer Court fantasy romance series featuring powerful Fae royals who find their fated mates on their quest to save the Fae. It's perfect for fans of portal worlds, intrigue, suspense, heartfelt emotions, explosive chemistry, love, and happily ever after. | Author: Helen Walton | Publisher: Walton House Publishing | Publication Date: Oct 20, 2023 | Number of Pages: 260 pages | Language: English | Binding: Paperback | ISBN-10: 0645974404 | ISBN-13: 9780645974409
+Commercial and Personal Use Cut Files+ SVG, DXF, PNG and a Mirrored JPEG for Iron On Transfer Paper Copyright KimVanHornDesigns2022 If you see this or any of my designs being sold elsewhere as a digital download, please know they are stolen and not authorized for resell nor will you be protected by the personal or commercial licenses that I provide with my designs. Please do not share, resell or distribute my digital files. This listing contains Four Files: One SVG, one PNG, one DXF, and one Mirrored JPEG. This is an Instant Download Only. Nothing will be mailed. Included files: - 1 SVG file - For Cricut Explore, Silhouette Designer Edition, Adobe Suite, Inkspace, Corel Draw and more. - 1 DXF file - For Silhouette users. - 1 PNG file - For Printing 300 ppi High-Resolution Transparent Background. - 1 JPEG file - Mirrored for Printing. Use this file or the png for your transfer paper to make an iron-on. Find Instructions here: https://etsy.me/2E5jsa4 My number one priority is customer satisfaction and I will do what I can to ensure that. If you have any trouble at all, please message me. Tested ONLY on a Cricut Maker using Cricut Design Space. USER POLICY: For personal and small business use only. Commercial license for mass marketing can be purchased, please contact the seller. Digital files may not be sold or shared. All images copyright KimVanHornDesigns 2010-2022 Uploading to Print On Demand Sites is not permitted.
The term 'witch' carries a negative connotation and has for a very long time. Discover the beauty of what it actually means to be a witch!
A young girl preparing for her bat mitzvah discovers she has mysterious abilities in this magical contemporary coming-of-age story from the beloved author of Orphan Island.Hi, whoever is reading this. I'm Zipporah Chava McConnell, but everyone calls me Zippy.Things used to be simple--until a few weeks ago. Now my best friend, Bea, is acting funny; everyone at school thinks I'm weird; and my mom is making me start preparing for my bat mitzvah, even though we barely ever go to synagogue. In fact, the only thing that still seems to make sense is magic.See, the thing is, I'm a witch. I've been casting spells since I was little. And even if no one else wants to believe in magic anymore, it's always made sense to me, always felt true. But I was still shocked the day I found a strange red book at the library and somehow...I conjured something. A girl, actually. A beautiful girl with no memory, and wings like an angel. You probably don't believe me, but I swear it's the truth.Miriam is like no one else I've ever met. She's proof that magic is real. And, it's hard to explain this part, but I just know that we're connected. That means it's up to me to help Miriam figure out what she is and where she came from. If I can do that, maybe everything else in my life will start to make sense too.Anyway, it's worth a try.
Perfect for readers of Song for a Whale and Counting by 7s, a neurodivergent girl campaigns for a memorial when she learns that her small Scottish town used to burn witches simply because they were different. "A must-read for students and adults alike." -School Library Journal, Starred Review Ever since Ms. Murphy told us about the witch trials that happened centuries ago right here in Juniper, I can’t stop thinking about them. Those people weren’t magic. They were like me. Different like me. I’m autistic. I see things that others do not. I hear sounds that they can ignore. And sometimes I feel things all at once. I think about the witches, with no one to speak for them. Not everyone in our small town understands. But if I keep trying, maybe someone will. I won’t let the witches be forgotten. Because there is more to their story. Just like there is more to mine. Award-winning and neurodivergent author Elle McNicoll delivers an insightful and stirring debut about the European witch trials and a girl who refuses to relent in the fight for what she knows is right. Product DetailsISBN-13: 9780593374283 Media Type: Paperback Publisher: Random House Children's Books Publication Date: 10-11-2022 Pages: 208 Product Dimensions: 5.10(w) x 7.50(h) x 0.60(d) Age Range: 8 - 12 YearsAbout the Author Elle McNicoll is a debut children's author from Scotland, now living in East London. As a neurodivergent writer, she is passionate about disability rights and representation. A Kind of Sparkis her first novel. You can find her online at ellemcnicoll.com.Read an Excerpt Read an Excerpt 1 “This handwriting is utterly disgraceful.” I hear the words, but they seem far away. As if they are being shouted through a wall. I continue to stare at the piece of paper in front of me. I can read it. I can make out every word, even through the blurriness of tears. I feel everyone in the classroom watching me. My best friend. Her new friend. The new girl. Some of the boys are laughing. I just keep staring at my writing. Then, suddenly, it’s gone. Ms. Murphy has snatched it from my desk and is now ripping it up. The sound of the paper being torn is overly loud. Right in my ears. The characters in the story I was writing beg her to stop, but she doesn’t. She crumples it all together and throws it toward the classroom bin. She misses. My story lies in a heap on the scratchy carpet. “Do not ever write so lazily again!” she shouts. Maybe she isn’t even shouting, but it feels that way. “Do you hear me, Adeline?” I prefer being called Addie. “Not ever. A girl your age knows better than to write like that; your handwriting is like a baby’s.” I wish my sister were here. Keedie always explains the things that I cannot control or explain for myself. She makes sense of them. She understands. “Tell me that you understand!” Her shouts are so loud and the moments after are so quiet. I nod shakily. Even though I don’t understand. I just know it’s what I’m supposed to do. She says nothing more. She moves to the front of the class and I am left alone. I can feel the new girl glancing at me, and my friend Jenna is whispering to her new friend, Emily. We were supposed to have Mrs. Bright this year; we met her briefly before the summer holidays. She would draw a little sun with a smiling face beside her name and would hold your hand if you looked nervous. But she got sick and Ms. Murphy came to teach our class instead. I thought this new school year would be better. That I would be better. I take out my pocket thesaurus. It was a Christmas present from Keedie. She knows how much I love using different words, and we laughed because the word “thesaurus” sounds like a dinosaur. I read different word combinations to calm down, to process the shouting and the ripping. I find a word that I like. “Diminished.” On days like this, I spend lunchtime in the library. I feel the other children in the class still watching me as we tuck in our chairs and leave the room, the school bell screeching so loudly. Loud noises make my head spin; they feel like a drill against a sensitive nerve. I walk through the corridors, practicing my breathing and keeping my eyes straight ahead. People talk so loudly to their friends, who are right next to them. They get too close, they push and clamor, and it makes my neck hot and my heart too quick. But when I finally get to the library it’s all quiet. A good kind of quiet. There is so much space, and an open window lets in a little fresh air. There is no loud talking allowed. The books are all categorized and labeled in their proper places. And Mr. Allison is at his desk. “Addie!” He has curly dark hair and big glasses, and he is tall and skinny for a man. He wears old sweaters. If I were to use my thesaurus to describe Mr. Allison, I would say he is kindly. But I like to just say that he is nice. Because he is. My brain is very visual. I see everything in specific pictures, and when people use the word “nice,” I think of Mr. Allison, the librarian. “I have just the thing for you!” I like that he never asks boring questions. He doesn’t ask how my holidays were or how my sisters are doing. He just gets straight to talking about books. “Here we go.” He walks over to one of the reading tables and puts a large hardcover book down in front of me. I feel all the horrid feelings from earlier disappear. “Sharks!” I flip it open immediately and stroke the first glossy page. I told Mr. Allison last year that I love sharks. That they are the most interesting thing to me, even more than the ancient Egyptians and the dinosaurs. He remembered. “It’s a sort of encyclopedia,” he tells me, as I sit down with the book. “An encyclopedia is a book that tells you a lot about one subject, or one area of study. This one is all about sharks.” I nod, somewhat dazed from excitement. “I suspect you know everything that’s in there already, though,” he says, and he laughs after he says it so I know that he’s joking. “Sharks don’t have bones,” I tell him, caressing the photograph of what I know is a blue shark. “And they have six senses. Not five. They can sort of sense electricity in the atmosphere. The electricity of life! They can also smell blood from miles away.” Their senses are sometimes overpowering. Too loud, too strong, too much of everything. I turn the page to a large photograph of a solitary Greenland shark, swimming alone in the ice-cold water. “People don’t understand them.” I touch the shark’s fin. “They hate them, actually. A lot of people. They’re afraid of them and don’t understand them. So they try to hurt them.” Mr. Allison doesn’t say anything for a while, as I read the first page. “You take that home with you for as long as you like, Addie.” I look up at him. He is smiling, but his eyes don’t match his mouth. “Thank you!” I make sure to put all the glad that I am feeling into my voice so that he knows I really mean it. He moves back to his desk and I become engrossed in the book. Reading is the most calming thing after an overly loud and unkind classroom. I can take my time. There is no one rushing me or barking at me. The words all follow rules. The pictures are bright and alive. But they do not overpower me. When I am trying to sleep at night, I like to imagine diving beneath the cold waves of the ocean and swimming with a shark. We explore abandoned shipwrecks, underwater caves, and coral reefs. All that color, but in a wide-open space. No crowds, no pushing, and no talking. I would not grab its dorsal fin. We would swim alongside one another. And we would not have to speak a word. We could just be. 2 Waiting for my sister is the longest time of the day. Dad is already cooking by the time I arrive home from school. Today is Monday, so dinner will be pasta. I like it quite plain. Too much sauce makes my tongue feel like it’s drowning, so Dad makes a white sauce for me and a different one for the rest of the family: Dad, and my two older sisters, and Mum when she’s not at work. “Dinner’s almost ready, Addie.” Dad knows not to ask me questions straightaway. I need time to settle. That’s what Keedie says; she’s the one who told me that, and then she told Dad. Since then, it’s been easier. I help set the table and we throw pasta onto the ceiling to see if it will stick. One piece falls down and Dad catches it in his mouth. He laughs and eats it before yelling upstairs for Nina to finish talking to her camera and come down for dinner. He cannot hear the scrape of her chair, the whirring of her camera lens as it retracts, or the resigned click of her bedroom door closing. But I can. Nina is my other older sister, always here and always wanting. What she wants, I’m not really sure. A different house, a more perfect life. The kind of life she pretends to live in her videos. A rose-gold life that’s neat and tidy. She has auburn hair that she dyes blond and only sensible piercings. She wears tartan skirts and turtlenecks. Her bedroom has a camera on a tall tripod and important-looking lights. She talks to tens of thousands of people through her camera, about clothes and makeup. She smiles on her videos in a way I have never seen her smile off camera. “What’s today’s video about?” Dad asks regular and repetitive questions. He calls it “making an effort.” He says it’s important for letting people know that you’re interested in their lives. If I’m interested in someone, I have hundreds of questions for them, and they are never the same. “Just a Q and A,” Nina replies, spooning a small portion of pasta onto her plate. The smell of the sauce that she drizzles over the dish stings my nostrils. “My views have dipped since I stopped doing hauls.” Mum told her that buying large amounts of clothes each month was wasteful. It was a big argument. Doors were slammed, and it made my hands tremble. Nina gets up and goes to the fridge, then wrenches it open to grab a bottle of juice. “Where is she?” I’ve realized that Nina spe
