I would totally send my work to you- except that I'm already an obsessive editor, and my dad works as an editor! That is a really good idea though. Maybe I'll post some of my work for you just for a second opinion.

Chapter one: Potion Master

One night, a night of no stars. A sleepless night for me, Noel. I stare out the frosted window at the shadows and nightmares outside, wondering if the Fear Fires draw near with their poison and illnesses. I wonder if we have enough essence of illusion, the base of all potions and poisons. Potions aren’t like the people think. Potions are illusions. They think that witches make potions. Believe me, witches aren’t the potion type. That’s us, the potion makers. That witch, Fralyndia, the one who started the whole ‘witches make potions’ thing, she was the exception, not the rule. She was different. That’s what makes you famous, right? Her mother was a witch, and her father was a potion maker. Hybrids. Potions aren’t “...newt’s eye and a drop of dragon blood…”. They’re “...essence of fear and a bit of dragon thought…” yes, we use the thoughts and dreams, not the blood. We like animals here.

Anyway, back to the sleepless night.

I'll be happy to edit anyone's work. =)

little bit more, comin' at ya!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wiped frost off the window with my thin, pale hand. I thought I saw a shadow move outside, and jumped. The night was windless, though the whispering of leaves still chilled me. I saw a mouse come into view of the sliver of light emanating from my candle, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Tonight was a perfect night for the Fear Fires to come. Dark and cold, moonless, silent. I shriek as a red spark zips past my window, then another. Another. A shower of sparks, the alarm. If only I knew which one! Master always told me which potion to find based on the color of the alarm. I thought I had cracked the code 7 years ago, but a blue alarm, which I thought was antidote to the green poison, but this time it was Invisibility potion. My code was ruined. No matter how hard I tried, it seemed impossible to break the code. Stop laughing! I was 8! Cut me some slack. Anyhoo, I raced down the dark wood hallway in my bare feet, skidding to a stop in front of my master’s bedroom door. I flung it open, and fumbled with my matches to light the huge oil lamp hanging from the ceiling. When the wick caught fire, the room was well lit. “Master! Awake! The alarm is going off, it’s re-” But I stopped dead in my tracks. My master was gone. Then I felt a gust of cold air come to my back and I shivered. Wait. Air. I spun around. Master’s window was shattered, small shards of the smooth frosty glass peppering the floor. I dashed over to his bed with Pansy, the nasty strand of black hair that refuses to stay in the blocky bun sitting atop my head, swinging into my face. “Oh do stop it, Pansy. You always get loose at the worst time,” I muttered to myself. I think my hair has a mind of it’s own. I dug through master’s bed coverings, finding nothing but tangles of straw from his mattress. This showed signs of a struggle. I was so frantic with my searching that I almost swept a small silver vile onto the floor before I stopped myself and picked it up, my hands trembling. A little piece of parchment was hurriedly wrapped and fastened with a green wax stamp to the shining vial. I caushesley peeled it off and held it up to the flickering lamp. Scrawled in red ink, the kind only master used, was a short message. I stared at the page, my eyes big like saucers when I saw part about drinking the potion. Had master really been kidnapped, or was he just testing me? Would he really go to that much of a length, breaking windows, just to test me? Questions flooded through my brain like a colossal waterfall flowing into a tiny stream. I quickly scanned the rest of the note, then stopped.

Noel,

mou haha! suspense!!

Can I have some editing?