 
Certain

A compilation of stories by

Anna Cruise, Carlyle Labuschagne, Charlotte Abel, C.L. Foster, Delphina Henley, E.L. Todd, Kelly Risser, Kristina Renee, N.L. Greene, Randi Cooley Wilson, Sharon Rose Mayes and Susan Burdorf
This book is fictitious. All references to ancient, historical events, persons living or dead, locations and places are used in a fictitious manner. Any other names, characters, incidents and places are derived from the author's own imagination. Similarities to persons living or dead, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. Each story is owned by the original author and has been included in this compilation with their express permission. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher or author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Printed in the United States of America

**Certain**

Kris Kendall

Copyright Kris Kendall 2014

Published at Smashwords

# It Was You—prequel

## A new adult contemporary romance by Anna Cruise

JUNE

"Killing him isn't an option."

I stared at my best friend. Griffin was sprawled on the couch, his lanky frame taking up all three sections of the battered, stained piece of furniture. The TV was on and I glanced at the picture again. A baseball game, runners on first and second. The pitcher was checking the guy on first, but it was more to buy time than anything else. Neither of the runners were moving on a two and nothing count.

I felt my stomach clench and the anger bubble up inside of me. I didn't hate baseball. I hated that I was watching it instead of playing.

"No shit," I said. I picked up the bottle of beer in front of me and took a long pull. I wasn't twenty-one—hell, I was barely nineteen—but having a friend like Griffin made it easy to score booze. "I just said he'd be better off dead."

"You're just saying that because guys in hats and tight pants are chasing a little ball around a diamond on TV." Griffin pushed his long blond hair away from his face and sat up. "Look, the situ with your dad blows. No doubt, man. But sitting around being pissed off about it hasn't gone so well, has it?"

I hated that he knew me so well. I lifted my middle finger in his direction.

He grinned, a slow easy smile. "Dude. It's done. You can't get the money back. You're not going to Stanford."

"No shit," I repeated. I sounded like a broken record. "I can still be pissed off about it, though."

And I was. I couldn't shake it even when I tried. Any time I saw anything related to baseball, it was like a spark setting a fire inside me.

Griffin raised his eyebrows. "You gonna be angry for the rest of your life? 'Cuz you're going on...what? Over a year now? That's a pretty fucking long time to be mad at your dad. And the rest of the world."

The guy sitting next to me should have known that I could stay angry forever. It was one of my superhero-like abilities, one of my vices. I had a temper. And I had no problem holding a grudge.

"I don't wanna talk about it," I muttered.

My best friend laughed. "Come on, man. I'm here for you." His expression was one of mock concern. He sat up and folded his hands all prim and proper and tucked them under his chin. "Talk to me. Let me help you. We can work through this."

If I'd been holding a can instead of a bottle, I would have fired it at his head. Instead, I shot him a glare that would make most people cringe. Not Griffin, though. He let out another loud laugh and stood up.

"It's too easy to fuck with you, man." He stretched, his arms so long that his hands almost scraped the popcorn ceiling. He picked up his phone and checked the time. "I'm gonna head down to Law. See what the break looks like. You comin'? Water might wash away some of that anger."

I chewed on my lip, then swallowed another mouthful of beer. I could go surf with him. Load up my board and go down to Law Street and ride a few. Breathe in the salty air and let the waves wash over me and try to take my mind off of all the shit that was going on.

I glanced at the TV.

The pitcher threw another one wide. The batter flipped his bat to the side and trotted slowly to first base as the other two runners moved up. I missed flipping the bat. I missed getting to third base.

I missed baseball.

"Yeah," I said, dropping the bottle on the coffee table. It clanked on the wood surface and toppled over and the last remnants of beer spilled on to the surface. "I'm coming."

***

The marine layer socked in the coast, a thick layer of clouds blotting out the mid-afternoon sun. The beach was mostly empty and I smiled to myself. The hotels were already full of summer tourists and I was sure they were sitting in their hotel rooms, miffed because they were losing a precious beach day. But that was the thing about June in San Diego. Sunny days were hit or miss and you never knew when Mother Nature was gonna lift her middle finger and say, "Screw you."

But for me and Grif? We didn't care if it was sunny. All we cared about was whether or not the waves were firing. Griffin pulled his car to the end of Law Street and left the engine idling. We both hopped out and scanned the ocean. There were small sets, a little choppy, the wind blowing in from the north. Nothing good but, in the mood I was in, I probably would have hauled my board out even if the waves were mush.

Griffin shielded his eyes. "What do you think? Wanna check out Bird Rock? Head over to OB?"

"Nah," I told him. "This is good."

"Good?" He raised his eyebrows at me. "Either your eyesight has gone to shit or you're angry and apathetic."

"Apathetic?" I turned to stare at him. "You trying to memorize the dictionary again?"

He jabbed my shoulder. "Fuck off."

I punched him back, my fist bouncing off his shoulder.

He laughed.

I tried to.

"Well, well," a voice said from behind us.

I didn't need to turn around to see who it was, but I did, anyway. I'd recognize that voice for the rest of my life and there was no escaping it.

Kayla, my ex-girlfriend, stood behind us, smiling. She'd squeezed herself into a pair of skimpy denim shorts that hugged her ass and a white tank top that showed off just how chilly the breeze coming off the ocean was. I let my gaze linger there for a second, but not because it was something I'd particularly liked or missed. No, I stared at her tits because I couldn't believe I'd ever buried my face between them.

"Am I interrupting a fight or something?" she asked, tilting her head. "You need to kiss and make up?"

She had perfect teeth. Perfect hair. Perfect everything. I hadn't been the one to pursue her—she'd come after me like a dog in heat—but I was more than happy to take what she'd been willing to offer. And I'd gotten used to her, like a habit.

A bad habit.

"No fight," Griffin told her. His voice was cool. He knew our history.

"Well, I saw you hit him," she said, her mouth forming into a pout. "I just wasn't sure..."

"Why the fuck would you care?" I asked.

Her eyes widened a little and she took a step back. "What do you mean? I care because it involves you."

I rolled my eyes. "Spare me the bullshit, Kayla. You know we aren't fighting."

She folded her arms across her chest and her tits lifted up to her neck. I bit back a sigh of frustration. I hated that she was hot. I hated that I still noticed. I needed to remember the not so hot stuff, too.

"Can you excuse us for a second?" she said to Griffin.

Grif glanced at me, his eyebrows raised in question. I shrugged and waved him off.

"I'm gonna head down," he said. "Don't keep me waiting."

"Trust me," I said. "I won't."

He jogged back to his truck and hopped in. The tires squealed and the truck lurched backward as he careened down the road in reverse. Thirty seconds later, he was backing into an empty space on the road. He got out, grabbed his board and headed back toward us and down the stairs to the sand.

I turned back to Kayla. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to say hi."

"Really?" My voice was laced with disbelief. "You just happen to show up in PB to say hi?"

"Maybe I was going to the beach," she said defensively.

I glanced at the gray sky. "Yeah, perfect day for it."

"UV rays can travel through clouds," she said, smiling.

I didn't smile back. "You could have stayed in Del Mar."

Del Mar was where I'd grown up. Where I'd gone to high school and where I'd played ball. And where I'd found out that my plan to go to school and play college baseball were nothing but pipe dreams.

"Fine," she said, sighing. "I drove to your apartment, okay? And before I could get out of my car, you got in Griffin's truck and drove here. So I just sort of followed you."

"Stalk much?"

A frown marred her pretty face. "I'm not stalking you. I just...I wanted to talk to you."

"I have nothing to say to you."

Her frown morphed into something else and tears welled up in her eyes. "West, please."

"Please what?" I said. I took a step closer and she stiffened. "Say I'll forgive you for fucking around with someone else? Sorry, sweetheart. Ain't happening."

"I was drunk," she said, the tears spilling on to her cheeks.

"So?" I spat. "You drink and somehow forget you have a boyfriend?"

"No, I—"

I held up my hand. "Spare me the lies."

"They're not lies!"

"Yeah," I said. "They are." I stared at her. I felt nothing. No lust, certainly no love. Once I was able to get past the looks, there was nothing else there. I'd just figured it out too late. And I didn't give a shit that she was crying. For all I knew, those tears were a lie, too.

"It was one time," she said. "One time."

"Not sure if you know this but one time was enough for me."

"So you're just going to throw all this away?" she asked. She blinked and more tears fell. "Everything we had...just...gone?"

"What exactly did we have, Kayla?" I waited for her to respond but she said nothing. "We partied and had sex. That was it."

"That's not true and you know it."

I ignored her. "And, if we're being honest—oh wait. I forgot. You don't do honest. Well, let me be the first in this relationship to try that out. Sorry. Former relationship. If I'm being honest, the partying was average and the sex was mediocre, at best."

She flinched like I'd just slapped her. "Fuck you, West Montgomery."

"Nope," I said, shaking my head. "Not happening. Ever again."

She unfolded her arms and fisted her hands and I thought she might hit me. "I thought you were different," she said, drawing a shaky breath.

"What? You thought I'd be cool if my girlfriend messed around with someone else?" I flashed back to the night I'd seen her with Brendan. I'd been fucked up, too and I'd had no problem driving my fist into his face. I was still paying for that, I thought, thinking of the court date that was looming over my head. Griffin had assured me I'd just get probation but I wasn't sure I cared.

"I thought you'd understand," she said. "Be forgiving."

My laugh was mean. "I don't forgive. Not ever."

My shoulder connected with hers as I brushed past. I made my way to Griffin's truck so I could grab my board. I didn't look back at Kayla and, once I'd gotten my board and turned back around to head toward the beach, I didn't make eye contact with her.

A year ago, I might have been the forgiving type. I might have listened to her story about getting shit-faced and 'accidentally' hooking up with Brendan Payne. I might have looked at her and decided she was being sincere and swallowed my pride and given her another chance. Because I was a good guy and because I tried to believe the best in people. Sure, I would have been pissed and maybe I wouldn't have been able to get over it, but I would have tried.

But that was before my dad. Before I'd discovered that he'd thrown my future away.

It was because of him that I was angry and it was because of him that I'd decided I wasn't going to forgive anyone who did me wrong.

Not him and not my ex-girlfriend.

I crossed the cool sand and stripped off my shirt and pulled on my rashguard. I ran my hand over the board and swore under my breath. I'd forgotten the wax in the truck. I glanced up at the cliffs. Kayla was standing there, watching me. No way in hell I was going back for it.

I jogged toward the shoreline, sucking in my breath as the cold water hit my feet. I ran a few more yards, then hopped on my board and paddled through the break.

Griffin was waiting for me, lined up with a group of other guys.

He grinned. "You guys get everything figured out?"

"Yeah."

"And...?"

"We figured out that we're still done."

He chuckled. "Just like that, huh? Writing her off?"

"I don't do liars," I said. "Not my dad and not her."

"Fair enough," he said, nodding. "You'll be hooking up with someone else soon enough. Girls can't keep their hands off of you." He batted his eyelashes and made kissy noises.

I flicked his arm with my fingers. "Shut up."

I watched as the first guy in line started paddling across the swell. He pushed himself up just as the face of the wave crested and sent him downward, his board carving through the water. The wave broke behind him and he disappeared as the white water chased after him.

I wasn't just done with liars. I was done with relationships. Griffin was the exception I would allow. We'd been friends for years and nothing was going to change that. People always said blood was thicker than water but I wasn't buying it. Blood had betrayed me.

And I wasn't going to let anyone get close to me ever again.

LATE AUGUST

"Why didn't we register online?"

Mark grinned. "Uh, because we sorta forgot?"

I stared at the line snaking toward the registration building at Mesa Community college. Griffin had badgered me all summer and finally convinced me to get my shit together and enroll in a couple of classes. The last place I wanted to be was standing in line at Harvard on the Hill with a bunch of stoner-losers, but I didn't have much choice. My dad had guaranteed that.

Griffin wouldn't do classes—he was making good money bar-tending—but I knew Mark was signing up for a few. So I'd called him up and we'd come over to Mesa together.

"This is for registration, right?" a girl's voice said from behind me.

I'd seen her coming before she'd gotten to the line. I'd looked longer than I'd planned. She was pretty. She didn't look like a stoner and she wasn't walking with that begrudging reluctance that seemed to weigh down everyone else in line. She seemed confident, curious, engaged in what she was doing as she looked at the buildings. I turned back around before she'd reached the line, before I could get carried away by just how hot she was.

"No, they're giving out free hot dogs," I said, smirking.

I turned to get a better look at her. Six inches shorter than me, her wavy brown hair brushed off her shoulders. She was definitely hot. But I was done with hot girls, I reminded myself. I was done with girls, period.

"Seriously?" she asked, her eyes widening. They were a startling, vivid blue, almost the same color as mine, and the look seemed so genuine that I almost felt bad for shooting off my mouth.

Mark snorted and I remembered: _done with girls_.

"Uh, no." I gave her a quick once over, something I knew she wouldn't care for. "And you're gonna need to be a little sharper than that if you're gonna get through college, sweetheart."

She looked away from me but for some reason, I continued watching her. She really did look out of place, like she didn't belong with me and the other losers lining up for remedial classes at this joke of a school. But she didn't look lost. She was happy, smiling, like a kid eager to start her first day of kindergarten.

A girl joined her in line and sighed. "Much better."

I wondered what had been wrong.

The brunette nodded and her friend looked at her for a second, then asked, "What's wrong?"

She didn't answer.

I should've kept my mouth shut. I didn't need to be a jerk. But there was something about the girl that suddenly made me want to get her attention, even if I did it in the wrong way.

"She's disappointed about the hot dogs," I told her friend.

The brunette's cheeks reddened. "You don't need to be an ass."

Her friend looked at me, then at her, completely confused.

I grinned. "It's the way God made me, honey."

She rolled her eyes and glanced at her friend. "I knew this place would be filled with Neanderthals."

Mark gave her a dirty look and I stared at her for a long moment. Maybe I'd read her wrong. She might be different than the people lining up for classes but she was just a typical chick, making assumptions and staring down her nose at everyone else.

"I knew you were one of those," I said.

"One of what?" she asked.

I turned around and took a step toward her, a mocking smile spreading across my face. "One of those chicks who thinks she's too good to go to school here. Knew it as soon as you walked up, looking down your nose at everybody in line."

"I did not," she said, frowning.

"Sure you did," I said. My eyes locked on hers and I saw her shiver. "You were pissed there was even a line. Like you should get to bypass the line because you're better than this place." I knew I was the one making assumptions now, but I didn't care. I turned my back to her and said, "You may be hot, sweetheart, but that isn't gonna get you to the front of this line. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news."

She grabbed me by the arm and spun me around. Her eyes were on fire, her expression one of complete outrage.

"Hey," she said, digging her fingers into my bicep. I flexed but she didn't pull away, just tightened her grip and I felt something stir inside of me. "Jackass. I came here to register for classes because I wanted to. I didn't come here to look down my nose at anybody. I _chose_ to come here. So you can shut the hell up."

I looked down at her hand still on my arm. Her fingers were soft. Warm. It had been a while since a girl had touched me. All by design, of course. I'd sworn them off after my run-in with Kayla and it had been a long, long summer of no sex. No hook-ups. Nothing but me and surfing and insane amounts of beer.

I stared at the girl still holding on to me. She wasn't afraid of me. She wasn't intimidated by me. She wasn't flirting with me. She wasn't impressed by my big mouth. She was flat-out pissed.

A tiny thrill ran through me. I grinned at her. "You just wanted to touch me."

She yanked her hand off my arm like it had suddenly caught fire and her friend bit back a smile.

"You've got nice hands, sweetness."

I let my eyes rove up and down her body, my eyes lingering on her chest. She wasn't on full display like my ex always was but all the right curves were clearly visible.

I should have stopped. I should have turned back around and ignored her. But there was something about the way she was looking at me, her eyes still on fire, her chest rising and falling with deep, angry breaths, that lit something inside of me.

"You wanna touch me somewhere else, just ask. As long as I get to do the same."

If steam could come out of her ears, it would have. "You wish, jackass."

"Oh, I do," I said, nodding. "And my name's West. Not Jack. But I do have a nice..."

"West?" She snorted. "What the hell kind of name is that?"

I chuckled. "Best name you'll ever know. Guaranteed."

"Whatever," she said. She grabbed her friend's arm and tugged. "Let's go."

She was right to walk away. I was being a first class prick. And I was sending signals that would have scrambled the most sophisticated network. But my shields were up. I'd seen a pretty girl, one that actually interested me, one that wasn't afraid of me, and I'd almost caved. Being a prick would guarantee I wouldn't get entangled with her. Ever. She didn't seem to suffer fools and I was definitely acting like a fool.

"I didn't get your name, honey," I called as she stormed away. "Maybe next time."

She didn't look back.

And I couldn't look away.
Read the rest of Abby's story in It Was You by Anna Cruise.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Anna Cruise has been writing and drooling over boys since middle school. Lots of years have passed but some things never change...

Anna loves to hear from readers and authors. Visit her at http://annacruise.com. You can also like her Facebook page, find her on Twitter @AnnaCruiseBooks.
Fearless

## A dystopian paranormal romance by Carlyle Labuschagne

Be Bold

Rion

"What are you doing?" Willard groans from the shadow of his bed.

I fumble around in the darkness for my sheath. "Nothing. Go back to sleep," I whisper back.

"I'd love to, but you are making it impossible for me to do that." His bed creeks as he turns to face the other way.

I crouch lower, stretching my arm further into the darkness below my bunk, but still I cannot find it. Inwardly, I'm cursing my pet stoat, Pebbles, for the missing holder. I know she's taken off with it again. Every Saturday morning, I venture to the skirts of our village without her. And every Saturday morning, she runs off with my sheath and hides out with it somewhere in the trees until my return. The silly animal is jealous. I usually take her with me everywhere I go, but I never take her so close to the border.

There are vicious predators out there, and I don't mean the animal kind. I'm talking about hunters. They will kill us both for our precious parts. The Magam don't leave any evidence of their kill. They slaughter for the use of evil potions and dark spells. It is said they will use each and every part of their kill; skull, eyes, insides and skin. They are ruthless killers who murder Minoans and animals alike. I have also heard they will kill to capture the essence of a being by slicing them open alive to call upon the ancestors.

The Magam came here with the first arrival of humans. At first, we were happy to share Poseidon with another race, one that was threatened by extinction, too, but soon after the human colony was established bad things started to happen. Murder. The Magam are cruel butchers, exiled by their own kind for their evil intentions. They are feared and hated by all, and I think this fuels their undertakings even more.

As for me, I personally look forward to the day I bump into one of those monsters. I'm a trained warrior, born from the ashes of fearlessness itself. But when it comes to her, I become a weakling. I wish I could show her who I am in my head, maybe then she would decide against her engagement to the chief's son. Just thinking about it makes me nervous.

I bump my head on the underside of the bedpost while I scurry around.

"Rion, you are going to wake the others. If Enoch catches you, you know he'll see it as betrayal."

Willard is right, so I decide to stop searching and leave immediately. I have to get to her before sunrise. Grabbing my coat from the chair, I slip my arms through the tight sleeves. The jacket thing is a human invention we had to barter for when the eternal autumn began. I pull my hands through my braid and draw in courage.

Today is the day I will finally tell her. The undeclared confession pumps with speeding adrenalin through my veins, beating viciously with desire beneath my ribs to such an extent I feel its pulse in my throat. I can't wait to see her. I turn to escape through the window.

"Don't forget your dagger."

I pull the dagger from beneath my pillow and push it into the cuff of my boot before I make my escape, but stop cold when we hear a door closing. Through the sliver of light beaming in from the open window, Willard and I exchange a look. His expression meets mine in agreement. Enoch has been out all night again. It's no wonder there were no appointed guards last night. And strange, too, as it's the day before the day.

"We're going to have to follow him next time."

Willard agrees with a single nod. "Go, before he comes in here to check on us."

I swallow hard at the thought of being caught. "If he―"

"He won't. Now go."

I leap out the window, but turn before I leave. "Thank you."

"Shhh," is his only response, before I rush off to embrace the mocking, cold careless morning.

Leaves crush under my feet as I make it to the compound garden's border. Pulling my hair from its braid, I let it cover my ears to shield them from the nippy morning air. I scale the small fence that leads to the path winding down the mountain. The air smells crisp and clean from the dewy plants and moisture as I make my way onto the wooden bridge; it separates the upper and lower village. The garrison is the highest part of the village, and her house is right on the other side. I have to make it quick and be clever about it, too.

Once I clear the bridge, two sets of wooden stairs lead me down the side of the mountain, but I don't take that route; there are guards at those points. Sometimes I wonder if it's more to keep the villagers in, than the daemons out. Our Council is planning something, I know it. There has been a lot of change within it and amongst our young warriors. New recruits are rushing in, with many not having lasted our training. Out of seven new recruits, only Willard and I remain. We will graduate within the next cycle, which is only a few weeks away from today.

But if Enoch catches me, I'll be thrown out, and with it any chance of seeing Maya ever again.

*****

Crush. Crush. Crush.

My throat burns with each pant I take as air struggles to fill my exhausted lungs. The hill is steep, rocky and smothered in mist, hiding any trace of loosened rocks and broken branches from the early morning Scouts. I take in a huge breath and glance back at the dangerously hidden path I have just taken, thankful I made it at all.

I have to rush today, desperate winds are hot on my heels. As the soles of my shoes hit the mossy stone path, I come to an abrupt halt in order to capture the absolute silence; the village is in deep sleep. From quite a distance away, all I can hear are the roars of the ocean. She's more troubled of late. Waves are bigger and faster as they come crashing in―it's a warning, her battle cry. The storms are getting closer to land. My bones hum with the calls of the sea. It's here, the day of the prophecy.

I keep still for a few moments more and focus on my immediate surroundings, making sure there are no signs of the Magams' minions. Lifting my face to the sky, I catch the breeze for any scent of their pungent magic. Thankfully, the air smells of forest and nothing more sinister.

Straightening my jacket, I embrace the dusk of this dreaded day. I wonder how many other Minoans can feel it, too. Most of us should be relieved that it doesn't loom overhead anymore. The day everyone has been preparing for since the end of the ancients has finally come. A new era is at hand. But the path is filled with darkness and death. My stomach does another flip at the morbid thought. I am not sure if I am scared or excited―it's a collision of both. There's a rotting ache inside my gut, and it feels as if I can't get to her fast enough.

I make my way through the fog as I follow the forest's path. I know the pattern of floor so well, I can walk it blindly. In some places, the ground dips so low my feet are smothered by it. Above me, there is a scuffle in the trees and I smile to myself. Pebbles is keeping watch over me from above. She rustles the leaves to let me know she's there as soon as I reach the river bed.

"I'll be back at sunrise, I promise." Then I wave to her.

Before I scale the creek's banks, I loosely tie my hair into a braid. This part is always tricky, especially with all the mist and dew that cover the rocks. As my boots hit the first rock, I realize the creek's water level has risen substantially. I decide to take the side entrance to her house, so I hurry to the dock and blindly feel around for the canoe. My nerves have gotten the better of me and I kick the side of the boat with my boot. The loud thud echoes over the water and into the deep of the valley. I bend to feel for the anchor post. The ropes are heavy and buried with sand as I loosen them; it hasn't been used in over 5 years, not since the drought. And if anything, it is one thing in favour of the prophecy. It has come in order to end difficult days.

Steering over the rapids is trickier than I remember. I almost drop the paddle twice. The fog is a thick and cold embrace over the shallows of the water, but the smell of the wood fire is my lighthouse, guiding me safely to the other side. I have to be fast but silent; I can't let the Magam know of the secret entrance to Arriana's house.

When I make it to the other side, I don't have time to search for the pole to anchor it to the shore, so I grab a large rock and flatten its end to the muddy bank. I use the roots of the jacaranda tree to assist my climb up the sodden, slippery embankment.

The warm glow of the porch lamp lights up the garden path. Arriana is already busy for the day. Maya's entire household awakes early every Saturday morning, before she sneaks off to go play her hockey games in the city. I wonder how the chief would react if he ever found out what they were doing behind his back.

I notice Maya is already waiting for me on the porch. When she sees me her face lights up, and when she smiles it warms me like a fire, a liquid heat that rushes from my chest up to my entire face and neck. I become so hot, I take my jacket off and throw it over my arm. She stares at me inquisitively with those deep, blue eyes that sparkle with each smile. My palms are sweating, and my heart pumps loudly in my throat.

"Good morning," I say, but it comes out in a croak.

She giggles into her hair.

I take the stairs onto the wooden deck and suddenly, I can't act normal around her anymore. My feet have a mind of their own and stop a distance away from her. My heart flutters as she comes near. I bow in greeting―as our people do―and as usual she teases me about such out of date behavior. She's forgotten many of our ways since her time with the city dwellers. It's something I admire about her. She's not afraid of change, she embraces it. She's the bravest girl I know.

"She's about the only girl you know." Anaya is suddenly behind me.

She grabs me around my shoulders and whispers in my ear, "If you don't tell her soon, I will."

"Yes, ma'am," I say out loud, and bow.

Maya stomps her foot. "Are you guys mind talking again?"

"It wasn't me, I swear, it's all her," I blurt out, pointing at her aunt.

"Relax, dude." Maya leans in to punch my shoulder. "Why so jumpy today?"

"I am not jumpy," I try to lie.

"If you say so."

Anaya pushes past us and enters the doorway first.

"Morning, Rion," Arriana calls from the warmth of the kitchen stove.

As we enter, I wipe my feet on the grassy mat, and hang up my coat on the extended hook next to the door. As the wooden door closes behind me, the white curtain billows in its gust. It shuts with the slightest of creaks, and a chill runs over my body―so fast and fleeting―I hardly feel it at all. But the hollow ache inside me remains. I stare at the ornate door handle, looking for a sign from the gems that were captured inside the golden, metallic artefact, which is cleverly hidden as a decorative doorknob piece. What I am looking for is the distinctive glow that something―or someone―sinister sets off within the blessed gemstone. Arriana, and those of the Minoan Council, have all put up such wards as the time draws near. But I don't get time to seek out any signs, because Maya grabs my hand and pulls me over to be seated at the table.

My boots clatter loudly over the wooden floor all the way there. The heart of the cottage is a bristling sensation of warmth and comfort. Arriana walks over to the table and dishes up a huge wad of porridge onto my plate. I thank her for the food and even though she is blind, Arriana looks straight at me and smiles. Deftly, she navigates over to Maya's bowl and dishes up the same mound of porridge.

"Hungry today?" I tease.

She nods as the first spoon goes in. She smiles and keeps staring at me as she digests her first mouthful.

"Rion?"

"Yes."

"You are staring."

I clear my throat. "Sorry."

"Shut up and eat, or I'll be late," she says, and waves at me to look away.

I swear I see her blush but don't say anything, just nod and wipe my clammy palms on my leather pants as she weaves in mouthful after mouthful of the grainy gruel. It is sweet and creamy, leaving a slight bitter aftertaste as it goes down. The food is so welcoming it warms me from the inside out.

We eat in silence as Arriana and Anaya pack their baskets for the market place stalls. My hands start to shake when I think of today, so I remove them from the table and sit on them to ease my anxiety. I don't understand how no one is saying anything about today, about the ominous cloud that hangs over our village. I can't stand to just sit and wait for fate to have its way with us.

I stare at Anaya as she sheathes a dagger beneath her purple caftan, and then lingers in front of the fireplace, her turquoise eyes studying the flame's dance. Her face is shadowed with concern.

When I turn my head to study Arriana, she accidentally drops one of her newly made vases to the floor. Maya and I both rush from our chairs to pick up the broken pieces. We crouch and start collecting all the scattered shards before Arriana―who is barefoot―steps on it. Maya's mom doesn't wear shoes around the house, says it feels unnatural and stifles her aura. In the summertime, I can understand that, but it's winter and has been so for the last 5 years. But the soft rumble of the storm drawing near reminds me that winter ends today, and with the rebirth of our planet will come something deadly and destructive.

I'm too unfocused, my mind a runaway mess, and I accidentally bump heads with Maya while reaching for a huge fragment that fell beneath the counter.

Maya giggles, bringing up a hand to rub her forehead.

"Forgive me," I say, as I stand and reach for her hand.

"That's okay, I guess even you have your off days."

I stare at her in silence. I want to remember this precious moment. Her cheeks are flushed from the warmth in the kitchen, and her skin smells like vanilla; she's so close, I can reach out and touch her. Her breath is incredibly sweet when she exhales.

"Ouch." She rubs her head again, then smiles up at me and turns to discard the pieces into a wooden bin where all the other broken pottery pieces go for later use in one of Arriana's projects.

I reprimand myself internally as she walks away. I'm left holding pieces of white, polished shards in my palms. It is then I notice her mom staring at me all strangely.

"You've cut yourself," Arriana says, coming closer, the bottom of her blue and purple skirts brush over the wooden floors.

"Wait!" Anaya shouts. She grabs the broom and starts sweeping around us.

"Excuse me." I bow and empty my hands into the bin. The pieces clatter and chime as they hit each other tumbling down the rest of the pile. When I turn around, Anaya is already standing behind me with a cloth, ready to wipe at the small cut on my palm. I don't stare at the discoloration of her eyes; it would be very rude to.

"I'm okay," I insist.

"No." She pulls my hand toward hers and starts rubbing away at the blood. "If they get as much as a sniff of your hallowed blood..." She doesn't finish the sentence, because the outcome would be too grim to imagine.

Arriana rushes over and runs a healing crystal over my hand. The crystal illuminates and then fades seconds later as the cut is healed. "Go wash your hands, please. I am not taking any chances today."

I bow in agreement.

When I round the corner into the passage, I hear Maya singing from her room. The door is slightly ajar and a yellow glow emits into the shadows of the long hall. I take soft, slow steps past her bedroom, careful not to take a peek out of respect. Her voice is light and smooth as I pass the door, but I stop just short of the gray light creeping in from the passage window, stealing a moment to listen to her honeyed tone as it carries down the passage. When I hear her floorboards creak, I quickly move away, passing Enoch's room.

Maya is still singing when I get that bad feeling I was telling you about earlier; it comes back with more unease, as well as a physical pain inside my gut. I turn back to Enoch's room. I want to know what he has been up to lately, sneaking behind our backs, brushing off guard duties―he is hiding something. I turn the knob, but the door is locked. This only confirms my suspicions. I sigh. So close.

"Umm, what are you doing?"

I suddenly realize the singing has stopped. Startled, I look at Maya, her eyes wide, beautiful, and questioning on mine. "I would rather not tell you." I look down, ashamed and unable to meet her eyes as I confess my indiscretion. "Excuse me." I bow and make my way to the bathroom.

I feel her eyes following me as I make my way inside. I don't turn to close the door; I can't stand to see her face when I am lying. Using my foot, I slam the door shut and take a huge calming breath. I stare at my reflection on the shiny tinted piece of glass mounted above the basin. This, too, is something that Maya brought to the village. The use of mirrors. My reflection is distorted by the trapped steam that clings to the walls of the bathroom. I wipe my hand across the cold, smooth surface. "Idiot," I say to myself.

I cannot stand the fact that I have to keep things from her. It's bad enough I have to lie about my feelings toward her. Now I have to lie about my suspicions regarding her brother. Having these feelings for her and not being able to be normal around her is crushing me. Is this why they call it a crush? I feel like I can't move, smothered by my unspoken confessions. I have to tell her, it has to come out, and if I am exiled for it―then so be it.

*****

Darkest Dawn

Maya is standing and waiting for me by the russet garden gate when I make my way outside. The fog is so dense, I can only make out the shadowed outline of her hand as she raises it to call me closer.

Dusk is breaking over the ocean, which casts long shadows over the entire garden. Their cottage is nestled in the nape of the Minoan valley where the mist and shadows seem to cling to the ground and bushes with more force. This makes it very difficult for me see if anyone is watching us. Subconsciously, I shake my left leg to feel the comfort of my dagger in my boot. Buttoning up the top of my jacket, I turn to wave goodbye to Anaya. She bows and gently closes the door.

A gust of wind blows across the porch and the pottery wheel starts to turn by itself in its wake; a gentle, squeaking sound that merges beautifully with the ringing of the wind chimes hanging from the porch roof. It's a haunting sound, one that sends a shiver over the skin of my arms. I shake it off and make my way through the overgrown path toward the gate.

Maya grabs onto my shoulder, places a foot on a wooden post and jumps the fence. I'm taller than her, so I don't need help to scale it. We don't use the rusty, old wooden gate on Saturday mornings, because it screeches something awful―and you never know who could be listening. The last thing we want to do is upset the chief. If he knew about Maya mingling with the city dwellers, Arriana, Kronan, and Anaya, would lose their place on the council, and it won't matter that the sisters are two of the last Pures. To defy the chief, is to deny and shame our entire race.

"Would you come on?" she whispers to me.

I can hear her, but can't see the expression on her face through the thick, gray haze. Not that I need to in order to know she is growing impatient with me. I bump into her as my mind starts to think up of ways I can tell her how I feel and wonder, if by telling her, I am being completely selfish of the position I will be putting her in with the chief. Can I really expect her to shun the treaty for me?

Maya links her arm in mine as we take the narrow cobbled path toward the village market. We hardly say anything to each other. I can almost feel her question, can hear her ask it―but she doesn't, and I wonder why she keeps so silent.

"Maya," I finally say.

"That's what they call me." She attempts to lighten the mood.

I pull on her to stop behind the huge boulders―which separate the village from the market place―hiding us from the wind and view of any Scouts for just a moment longer. "About earlier, when you found me snooping―"

"You don't have to explain. I know."

"You do?" my voice comes out as a shrill.

"I am not a total loser, Rion, I know my brother is up to something, I've known for a while now. Mom and Anaya suspect, too." She stares at the ground. "Kronan has them so wrapped up in this prophecy thing that as Truthseekers, they have to let things go in order for the path to be revealed."

"I guess so."

"It's stupid."

"What is?"

"All of this. I don't want to marry him."

"Why are you telling me this Maya? You can't say it―"

"What? Out loud? I am not scared of him, or anyone. I am a person with feelings and thoughts, with desires and dreams, and no old age tradition will take that away from me. Besides," she straightens, lifting her chin in defiance, "Mom and I agree he is way too old, and far too ugly for the likes of me."

Consumed with relief, all I can do is stare at her. The heavy feeling I experienced earlier has lifted from my chest. I am too happy to even speak, but I shouldn't be. It's bad to defy the council.

"You look confused." Her hand comes up to cup my check.

Through the fabric of her gloves, I can feel the warmth of her palm on the cold skin of my face.

"It's going to be okay. I promise." Her eyes are big and adoring on mine. She turns and pulls me forward.

The wind howls past the boulders' shelter, the gust wicked as it blows across the market place from the ocean, kicking up dust and forest debris.

"We have to hurry, or I'm going to be late for the finals."

We start jogging, but the end of the cove wall hits us too soon. Looming before us is a narrow path leading to the bridge that crosses over into Vista's border. The forest sings and branches bend back in protest.

"Please don't go today!" I blurt out and pull her into my arms.

"Rion, please, what's going on with you? You're all weird and stuff..."

"Just don't go today. Please, for me?" And I hope dearly she doesn't decline, because it will crush my heart to be rejected by her.

Maya looks to the bridge and then back up at me. "I have to go today." Her hands rest on my chest as she lets out a deep, mournful sigh.

"You feel it, don't you?"

"No, I don't, Rion." She pushes me away, adjusts the strap of her bag and starts to take off toward the bridge.

I step onto the bridge; it's the furthest step I've taken out of the village. I stare at my feet and back up at her.

"You know nothing will actually happen to you if you do cross over?"

I take another step; the bridge sways under my weight, my stomach feels hollow and sick as I take another step, and then another. "Please talk to me."

She turns to me, then looks back over the bridge into the forest. "Everyone can feel that today is the day, but I can't, Rion. I can't feel anything. All I know is that today I will find her and it won't be through my own choice, but something I will do because that is what is expected of me."

I clear my throat. "You never told me that." My eyes search hers.

"I have to go."

"Tell me."

Maya just stares at me, her brows furrowed.

"Tell me why you can't feel it―"

She doesn't give me a chance to finish.

"I am not like Mom, or Anaya, not anything like Kronan, either."

"Sure you are."

"No, Rion, I am not. I'm not Minoan, my parents didn't abandon me in the caves."

"What are you saying?"

"You know what I am saying. You must have realized I don't look anything close to Minoan."

"So you're a little shorter than the rest of us."

She sighs. "I am very, very short, shorter than any Minoan. And my dark complexion―its fake, cosmetics, chemicals I rub on my body every night to hide my pale skin. My hair is dark but not dark enough, so Mom gives me this poison that makes it grow out black."

"I am sorry."

"Don't be, it keeps me safe from preying eyes."

"So, are you Kronan's kid?"

"Do I look like the kid of a warlock?"

I shake my head. "You were tested for that."

"Well, now you have your answer."

"So, where did you come from?"

"I have my suspicions, but they're mine to have."

"I understand."

"I have to go, okay? I'll be back later." She smiles, walks over to me, stands on her tippy toes and kisses my cheek. "It's okay if you've changed your mind about me."

"No."

"Gotta go!" She takes off, so fast, that in the space of a few seconds the forest's shadows swallow her whole.

The kiss blindsided me to such an extent, all I could get out was a no? Urgh. I hit myself on the head. I meant to say, "No, it does not change how I feel about you. I love you more for telling me."

"I'll be right here when you get back!" I shout into the darkness.

*****

Reckoning

Much later that day.

The rush captures my body with brutal shivers, and in its wake my skin sears to life with a wave of different sensations. A cold, hot fire ripples over my spine and everything around me seems to become one single black and green muddle of shadows, fog, and forest as we race down the hill. Sounds become so loud, I can hear Willard's panting over the screaming. We meet up at the cross section in front of the garrison and sprint toward the first pylon. Above me, Pebbles dashes over the branches, her tail a while blitz as she leaps through the trees.

"Stay high!" I tell her.

Willard climbs the tower and rings the first warning bell. It gongs, and then rings throughout the hills and echoes down into the valley and market place below. I stand watch as Willard makes his way down the ladder, his foot slips and his sheath gets caught on the ladder. As he pulls, the buckle comes undone and his sword plummets with a swoosh, swoosh, swoosh and lands with a thud on the muddy ground.

Tatos comes crashing through the forest, his long braids littered with twigs and leaves. "Can you see them?"

"No," I yell back, handing Willard his sword.

Tatos pulls his bow from his sheath. "Let's go!" he yells, feeding the bow with one of his 'special' arrows.

The thumping of our boots over the cobble path gets louder with each harsh lungful of air I take in. We cross the first bridge and I realize we are taking too long to get to the border.

"Follow me!" I call to them.

We head into the bush, my secret path now revealed to Tatos―our second in command―but to my surprise he doesn't ask about the path, he is more concerned at stopping the enemy before they enter our village. We reach the river bed behind Maya's house. The canoe is missing.

"We're going to have to swim across," I state the obvious, before heading in.

Perhaps it's more to prepare myself. The icy water feels like the cold cut of a metal blade as it hits my skin. I gasp as it reaches my chest, threatening to pierce my lungs with cold, clawing fingers.

I look at the cottage as we run through their yard; luckily, both Anaya and Arriana are far away from the village for the day. We scale the fence in a hurry.

From the valley the terrifying screams seem louder. As we reach the market place, total chaos erupts. People are shoving into each other to get away from the unseen threat. Stalls have collapsed as people run over them. Wood and produce are scattered and abandoned in the sand. The smell hangs pungent in the air.

The Magam are here!

As the rush pumps through my veins, I can hardly feel the chill of my wet clothes anymore. Sounds are drowned out, except that of my own racing heart.

Maya is out there.

Around the boulders the bridge comes into view, and all at once the three of us come to a screaming halt. There are four Zulu fighters on the bridge. Now I know what they look like, and they look like any other dark-skinned human except for the painted faces and animal skins they wrap themselves in. Then there's the look in their eyes―death. One of them holds a blond girl from the city in his arms, a knife to her throat as he backs up toward the other side. She has two red darts in her leg―it must be her―the girl the prophecy foretold. But she seems so fragile, so scared.

Two of the Zulu warriors are circling Maya. She has her blade drawn, moving closer to the railing. The other one spots us and shouts something to them in their native language. As the two attacking Zulu men turn around, Maya jumps up onto the railing.

The three of us rush onto the bridge and from the side, Enoch appears over the railing and strikes down on the one holding the blond girl. She screams as she falls over, plummeting into the river below. Enoch jumps in after her.

Maya runs along the railing and leaps onto the back of another, dagger pinned into his shoulder.

We propel forward.

Now they don't stand a chance!

*****

As the blows keep falling faster and harder, every muscle in my body finds a new kind of strength. My heart speeds up and my breath is shallow, I almost forget I am beating a man senseless. Someone yells for me to stop and as I draw back, a cold chill of satisfaction runs over my spine. My hand is bloody as I look down. I fall back and move away from the body. What have I done?

When I look up, Maya falls before me on her knees. I grab her face between my hands and pull her near. Wisps of white vapor escape from her mouth.

"I am okay." She nods and swallows hard.

Still high from the spike of adrenalin, I do the impossible. I pull her face to mine. The kiss moves the earth from under me, and I tumble intensely into her warmth and beauty. I never thought a kiss could feel like I am not kissing her at all. Her lips are soft, but it doesn't matter, the stir of emotions inside me...

It's the reckoning of everything I have always wanted to say, but always knew that words could never hold the truth of how I feel about her.
Read the rest of Maya's story in The Broken Destiny by Carlyle Labuschagne

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Carlyle Labuschagne is a South African award winning author working her way into the hearts of international readers with her first two books in the Broken Trilogy. She is not only an author,but works as a marketing manager by day. She holds a diploma in creative writing through the writing school at College SA. Carlyle loves to swim, fights for the trees, food lover and cappuccino addict who is driven by her passion for life.

Visit her www.carlylelabuschagne.com or at twitter @CarlyleL
Down the Rabbit Hole

## A new adult paranormal romance by Charlotte Abel

Jonathan glanced at the address scribbled on the back of Dr. Harrison's card then at the tiny cottage across the street. What sort of therapist worked out of a house painted eggplant purple? The kind that claimed they could cure phantom pain with hypnosis; that's what kind. What was he expecting? A high-rise office building?

He gritted his teeth against the pins and needles sensation in his left hand — or what his nervous system still believed was his left hand. Pain meds helped, but not enough. That's why he was here, knocking on the Pepto-Bismol pink door of Bluestar Morninglory's Holistic House of Healing.

The door creaked open. A black and white striped cat darted between Jonathan's feet. He spun around and grabbed it with his right hand. The crazy cat dug its claws into Jonathan's forearm. He gritted his teeth and turned around to find a middle-aged woman standing in the doorway. She looked pretty good for an old broad. Her faded jeans and old Bolder-Boulder t-shirt from 2009 hugged her curvy body, but her tanned-leather face and grey streaked hair kept Jonathan's libido in check.

She took the cat and nuzzled it against her neck. "Thanks."

Jonathan rubbed his arm and glared at the cat. "You should keep an eye on that thing. He won't last long outside with the coyotes."

"What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for a hypnotherapist."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

Jonathan held out his left arm and rotated his myoelectric hand. The tiny gears and servos of the robotic device hummed as he manipulated it. "The phantom pain never goes away. My doc said hypnosis might help."

The woman's eyes softened as she lifted her gaze from Jonathan's prosthesis to his face. "All right. Come on in. But next time, call first and make an appointment."

"I can come back later if it's more convenient."

"You're here now. My name's Bluestar, but everyone calls me Blue." She motioned for Jonathan to enter with a sweep of her arm. "The first session is free, after that, it's a hundred dollars an hour."

Jonathan doubted he'd be back as he followed Blue into a small, windowless room illuminated by candlelight. Thin ribbons of smoke curled from the tips of incense sticks. The cloyingly sweet scent of patchouli gave Jonathan an instant headache. Floor to ceiling shelves held an assortment of rocks, crystals and ... animal bones? Maybe the cat would be safer outside with the coyotes.

And maybe the main qualification for a hypnotherapist shouldn't be how close they were to the Dillon Dam Brewery. Jonathan's mouth watered as he thought of the giant cheese burger waiting for him when he was done with this woo-woo business.

Blue nodded at a worn out recliner. "Have a seat and get comfortable while I go brew you some tea."

"Uh ... that's okay. I'm not much of a tea drinker." The pins and needles sensation in Jonathan's missing hand intensified. In a few minutes it would be the smashing-his-hand-in-a-vise sensation. Phantom pain, my ass. There's nothing phantom about it.

"It's all natural, brewed from organic plants I grow myself." When Blue returned, she handed Jonathan a steaming mug. "It'll help you relax ... which will help with the pain even before I get you into a trance."

Jonathan took a sip. It tasted like mint and dirt but with a ton of honey. He took another sip. Blue sat on one of those inflatable exercise balls and rocked back and forth as she talked about the coming ski season. Jonathan hadn't quite finished the tea when his eyes drifted shut. He blinked them open and shook his head. Blue wasn't kidding when she said the tea would help him relax. "What sort of plants did you say were in this?"

"I didn't say." Blue took the cup from Jonathan's hand. A trail of pink light followed her every motion. "It's a secret blend."

Shit. Jonathan had never experimented with hallucinogenic drugs, but he'd had enough super-powerful pain meds in the hospital to recognize the effect. "Did you use psychedelic mushrooms or something?"

"Listen to the sound of my voice. Let it carry you back to the day you lost your hand."

The smell of gasoline, melting rubber and dust burned Jonathan's sinuses. Searing pain shot from his missing left hand up the length of his arm. Every muscle in his upper body contracted. He arched his back, pulling his shoulders towards his ears.

Blue's voice sounded as if she were speaking from inside a tunnel. "I need to get to the very root of your pain but let's go back to a happier time. Relax. Breathe with me. In ... out ..."

Jonathan didn't want to go back to a happier time, he wanted to get the hell out of Blue's creepy house. But thanks to her magic mushroom tea he could barely keep his eyes open, much less get out of the chair. Jonathan knew he was in trouble when he couldn't force himself to breathe out of sync with Blue's commands.

"Good job, Jonathan. Close your eyes. Let your mind wander, as you drift into the past. Where are you? What do you see, hear, smell..."

"Lasagna. I smell lasagna. Mom's cooking it for Franklin." The double-edged sword of grief and guilt plunged into Jonathan's heart. He tried to ignore it, but it was buried to the hilt. He dug his fingers into the recliner's arm rest and tried to open his eyes but they might as well have been glued shut.

Blue's monotone voice, soft as dandelion fluff, invaded Jonathan's mind. "Relax. Let your emotions wash over you as travel back in time. Embrace the pain, let it heal you."

"No." He'd had enough of the 'whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger' bullshit from the army shrinks.

A rainbow of multi-colored lights exploded behind Jonathan's eyelids as he floated on a patchouli scented cloud. "This is nice."

He heard an echo of quiet laughter, then watched in awe as sound waves rippled the air around him. And then he fell ... spinning, turning, around and around ... down ... down ... down.

Jonathan's bare feet sank into soft, warm carpet. What happened to his shoes? He opened his eyes and wiggled his toes. He recognized the hunter green carpet immediately.

"What do you want, Jonathan?"

"Frankie?" Franklin was alive — sitting at his desk, arms crossed over his chest, frowning. But he wasn't frowning at Jonathan. He followed Franklin's gaze and saw a younger version of himself. Unscarred. No prosthesis. Two hands.

Jonathan ignored his doppleganger and wrapped his arms around Franklin. But they passed right through him, leaving behind a trail of blue and purple light. He might as well have been a ghost. Am I dead?

The room slipped sideways. An invisible force pulled Jonathan forward and shoved him into his other body; his perfect body, with two hands.

He wanted something ... He wanted Franklin to do something ...

Jonathan ran his left hand over the shiny gold figure perched on top of Franklin's latest trophy. It was almost as tall as he was. Between the two of them, they had more trophies, ribbons, and awards than the entire athletics department at Lake County High.

Franklin was seated behind his massive oak desk with his head bent over a book. He didn't even look up when he said, "Stop molesting my trophy and get out of my room."

Jonathan leaned over Franklin's shoulder to see what he was reading ... "Lord of the Rings? Again? Ya know, Bro, they made that into a movie. You don't have to read it."

"What do you want, Jonathan?"

"Can I borrow a shirt and a pair of jeans?"

Franklin put a finger in the middle of the page, under the word 'Aragorn,' then twisted sideways to look at Jonathan. "Why? You hate my clothes."

Jonathan knew better than to lie to Franklin. "You know why."

"Then the answer is no."

"Come on, Frankie, what's the point of being identical twins if we can't use it to our advantage?"

"What advantage? Why do you want to be me?" Franklin narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. "Or is there some reason you don't want to be you?"

"I need to talk to Naomi."

"So?"

"She won't answer my calls or texts or let me inside her house. She won't even look at me." Jonathan sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand. "She un-friended me on Facebook."

"Not my problem."

"Come on Frankie. I'd do it for you."

"How is pretending to be me going to change anything?"

"There's a party out at the mine tonight. If I can just talk to her—"

The wheels of Franklin's chair clattered across the hard wood floor as he pushed away from his desk. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back. "You mean seduce her."

"No. I mean talk to her. I just need her to understand how that whole thing with Harleigh was nothing but a mistake. I was so drunk I didn't know what I was doing."

"That's no excuse and you know it."

"If that doesn't work, I'll do the concerned brother routine... I'm so worried about Jonathan. Please, just talk to him. He may be suicidal."

"You're pathetic, but you aren't suicidal."

"I can't live without Naomi."

"That would be easier to believe if you hadn't boinked her best friend."

"I didn't boink Harleigh. I just made out with her. And like I told you ... I was drunk."

"And like I told you ... that's no excuse." Franklin turned back to his book. "Besides, Naomi's going out with Rich Blanchard now."

Rich was a senior and the state heavy-weight wrestling champion. He had the strength, thick skull and temperament of a silver-back gorilla, but only half the intelligence. There was no way Naomi actually liked him. "She's just trying to make me jealous."

"Probably. She's a manipulative bitch that doesn't care who she hurts as long as she gets her way. Find someone else — half the girls at school are already in love with you."

True, but Jonathan didn't want anyone else. He didn't want to start over either. It had taken him two months to get his hands under Naomi's shirt and another three weeks before she let him unhook her bra. If he hadn't messed up with Harleigh, he was sure that he and Naomi would have had sex by now.

Jonathan would have just grabbed a pair of Franklin's baggy jeans and one of his nerdy polo shirts out of the laundry without asking if the neat freak hadn't already put his clothes away. He hopped onto Franklin's bed and bounced on his toes. He couldn't think unless he was in motion and he definitely needed to think of a new plan ...

Jonathan dropped to his knees, then bounced back to his feet. "I could talk to Heather while I'm impersonating you. Ask her to homecoming or something."

It was ridiculous the way Franklin turned bright red and stuttered every time he tried to talk to the girl. There was nothing special about Heather Compton. She wasn't ugly or anything, but she wasn't exactly hot either — not like Naomi.

Franklin slammed his book shut. "You can't hit on Naomi and Heather at the same party."

He had a point. Jonathan stopped bouncing. "Unless ... you go to the party and pretend to be me. Lay low until I ask Heather out for you and convince Naomi to talk to me. Once I'm done, we'll sneak inside the mine and change clothes. You can hang out with Heather while I make up with Naomi in the back of the Rover."

The corners of Franklin's mouth did that subtle little twitchy thing that meant he was going to start stuttering. No one besides Jonathan ever noticed the twitch. They'd both stuttered as little kids. Jonathan out grew it, Franklin didn't. Stress made it worse, especially around girls. "The f-first t-time I open m-m-my m-mouth, everyone is g-going to know I'm n-not you."

"You don't have to talk. Just grab a beer, park your butt against a tree and act broken hearted. I guarantee at least one hot chick is going to try to console you by cramming her tongue down your throat. Just don't let Naomi see you. I'm already in enough trouble."

Frankie wrinkled his nose and frowned. "I'm not going to start drinking just so I can make out with some random fan-girl of yours. And get off my bed."

Jonathan grinned and started bouncing again. Heather was the perfect bait. All Jonathan had to do was set the hook and reel him in. "Just smile and nod your head while they jabber at you. It'll be good practice. For when you go out with Heather."

"Do you really think H-Heather w-would go out w-with me?"

"Why wouldn't she? You're almost as good-looking as I am."

Franklin rolled his eyes but his grin was so wide it looked like it hurt. "We're identical, you moron."

There was a small parking lot at the trailhead that meandered past the old McKnight mine, but it was already full. Jonathan didn't want to park on the side of the road so he pulled in behind Rich Blanchard's souped up Dodge Ram and cut the engine.

Franklin said, "You can't park here. You're blocking three cars."

Jonathan set the emergency brake and said, "I can park wherever the hell I want."

"You know who owns that truck, right?"

"Quit whining. Rich isn't going to want to leave before we do. In fact he'll probably get so drunk he won't be able to find his truck before daylight."

"And if you want anyone to believe you're me; quit saying 'hell.' I don't swear."

"Okay, Mom ... it's no big f—"

"Hey!"

"—freakin' deal."

Jonathan laughed and hopped out of the Land Rover, slamming the door behind him. "Keep your chin up and head straight for the keg—"

"I already told you, I'm not going to drink."

"Then grab a beer out of one of the coolers—"

"I said I'm not—"

"Calm down. I didn't say you had to drink it. Just hold it and pretend to take a sip occasionally. Can you do that?" Jonathan's patience was wearing thin.

"Okay, but remember the only kind of beer you can drink is root-beer."

Jonathan was definitely going to need a couple of real beers if he was going to get through the next hour without popping Franklin in the mouth. He'd just have to be discreet about it.

About twenty people milled around the bonfire in front of the mine. Another half-dozen or so jostled each other to get to the keg. Music blared from someone's portable audio system. It was amazing what you could do with a car battery, an amp and a couple of speakers. The thump, thump of the heavy bass reverberating in Jonathan's gut lifted his mood. He had to remind himself not to move to the beat as they walked up the trail. Franklin could dance as good as anyone, but he never did it in public.

That needed to change. Jonathan punched Franklin's shoulder. "Loosen up, bro. Try to relax. You're supposed to be excited to be here."

Franklin huffed and rolled his eyes.

They were about half-way between the parking lot and the bonfire when Naomi and her current top three friends spilled out of her Prius. Great. How was he supposed to talk to her with those three hanging around? They openly dissed him in front of Naomi, then came on to him behind her back.

Jonathan turned to Franklin, hoping he could enlist his help to distract Naomi's friends for a few minutes, but he should have known better.

Franklin was already twitching. Jonathan lowered his voice and spoke out of the side of his mouth. "Go grab a beer and pretend to drink it ... now." He stepped in front of Naomi then dropped his gaze to his feet. Franklin would never have the courage for direct eye contact with any girl, much less a hottie like Naomi. "H-h-hello, N-Naomi. H-how are y-y-you?"

She stopped and did a little double-take. "Franklin?"

Jonathan chanced a quick glance at Naomi's face. She curled her upper lip back so far it practically touched her nose. What the hell was her problem?

"C-can I t-talk t-to you for a m-minute?

She made that half-grunt-half-coughing noise in the back of her throat that she usually reserved for thespians and members of the chess club. "What are you doing here?"

"Jonathan's been so depressed since you b-broke up with him. If you w-would j-just t-talk to him—"

Naomi interrupted him with a cruel laugh. It was nothing like the musical giggle that always warmed Jonathan's heart. She tossed her hair over her shoulder with a flick of her hand and looked down her nose at him. He hardly recognized her. It was as if someone had transformed his Disney princess into a monster. She actually sneered at him. "How the hell did that cheating, scumbag brother of yours ever talk you into this? Did he threaten to st-st-steal your t-t-teddy b-b-bear?"

Jonathan's world shattered. No one made fun of Franklin's stutter. No one. Not even hot ex-girlfriends. Did she treat Franklin like this whenever Jonathan wasn't around? He glanced over his shoulder. Franklin was leaning against a tree with a goofy grin on his face, staring into the fire. If he'd heard Naomi's mockery, it would have devastated him.

She needed to be taken down a notch or two. And Jonathan knew just how to do it. "Jonathan told me I could have one of his rejects tonight. I was hoping Harleigh would show up, but since she didn't, I guess you'll do." He sighed and grabbed her hand. "Come on. I have a sleeping bag in the back of the Rover."

Naomi jumped back and hissed like an angry cat. Her friends giggled and snorted behind their hands. She was still spluttering incoherently when Jonathan turned his back on her and walked away. It was time to sneak into the mine, snag a couple of beers, and light up the blunt hidden in his pocket.

When Jonathan came out of the mine, he found Franklin in the middle of a crowd of drunks, chugging beer out of a clear plastic cup. Jonathan should have been happy Frankie was loosening up, but it pissed him off. Franklin was the good twin. He was on track to serve a mission, go to BYU, meet a nice girl, marry her in the temple and start popping out kids as fast as they could make 'em.

Franklin crushed his empty cup then belched half the alphabet. The idiots around him howled with laughter, but Jonathan didn't think it was funny. In fact, it killed his buzz. Was he that disgusting of an animal at parties? It was something to think about, but right now, he needed to save Franklin's sorry ass before he did something really stupid.

By the time Jonathan worked his way through the crowd, Franklin had another cup of beer in his hand.

"I think you've had enough to drink." Jonathan tried to pry Franklin's fingers off the cup without spilling it all over both of them.

"Oh I don't think so Frankie, I haven't had nearly enough. In fact I think it's high time you joined me." Franklin laughed and punched Jonathan's shoulder. "High time... get it?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." Jonathan grabbed Franklin's arm and whispered, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Hey! Tyler," Franklin leaned back and lifted his hand in the air, index finger extended, as if he were trying to signal a waiter. "Get a brewski for my alter-ego here would ya?"

Jonathan didn't know what had changed Franklin's mind about drinking, but he wasn't about to ruin his immaculate reputation. Besides, Franklin was already plastered, so Jonathan would have to drive them home. "Are you too drunk to remember my vow to never so much as taste alcohol?"

Franklin swayed on his feet. "You need to lighten up. Live a little before you die."

Jonathan grabbed Franklin's shoulders to keep him from stumbling into the fire. "How many beers have you had since we got here?"

"Hmm ... I'm not shlure." Frankie turned to Tyler and cocked his head to the side. "How many beers have I drunk...? Drank...? Drink-ded...?"

Tyler held up three fingers and shrugged.

Jonathan rolled his eyes. He would not be this plastered after just three beers.

Franklin belched a cloud of beer-scented gas in Jonathan's face then giggled like a girl.

Jonathan wanted to bitch-slap him until he followed Franklin's gaze to the crushed cans of nonalcoholic beer hidden in the side pocket of his suede jacket. Wow. This was just an act? Jonathan leaned in and whispered, "You're not really drunk?"

"Of course not."

The man deserved an Oscar for his role as Drunk and Obnoxious Jonathan McKnight.

"If you spill even one drop of that nasty fake beer on my coat, I'll kill you."

Tyler coughed into his fist and said, "Heather's here."

The sound of bell-like laughter floated up from the trail.

Franklin froze then started backing away before the girls were even in view. "I'm gonna puke."

He bolted into the bushes like a frightened deer.

Heather jerked her head back then squinted her eyes and leaned forward. "Was that Franklin McKnight? Is he drunk?"

Shit. Time to intervene. "H-h-hey H-Heather, I'd like t-to talk to you as s-soon as I m-make sure J-Jonathan's okay. He's had a little too m-m-much to drink."

Jonathan held his breath to make his face turn red and hoped that would convince Heather that she had the boys mixed up.

"Of course, do you need any help?

Tyler smacked Jonathan on the back "I've got it covered. You go talk to Heather while I make sure your drunken brother doesn't fall down a mine shaft or something."

"Um ... okay." Jonathan swallowed loudly and rubbed his palms on his jeans as if they were sweaty. Franklin wasn't the only one with acting ability. "D-do you w-wanna g-g-go somewhere t-to talk?"

Heather lowered her gaze and peeked at him from under thick lashes. She was actually sort of cute. Jonathan grabbed her hand and led her back down the trail, away from the fire and the crowd. He didn't want an audience in case this blew up in his face, so he waited until they were out of everyone's line of sight to turn his full attention to Heather.

She stared at their linked hands and grinned. "So ... what's on your mind, Franklin?"

"I... uh... yeah, well... I was w-wondering if you w-would go to H-h-homecoming with me?" Jonathan's voice cracked when he said 'me' but Heather didn't seem to notice — or maybe she just didn't care. The way her eyes lit up when she smiled changed her whole face. Why hadn't he noticed her before? Maybe because she'd never smiled at him. She was more than just cute. She was adorable. And perfect for Franklin.

She stepped forward and put one trembling hand on Jonathan's chest. "I would love to go with you."

Jonathan smiled, flashing his dimples.

Heather rose up on her toes and slipped her hand behind his neck and tugged.

Oh, shit. What do I do? If I pull back, it'll hurt her feelings. But I can't kiss her. She's Franklin's girl.

Heather made the decision for both of them. Jonathan kept his mouth closed and his eyes open. The snap of twig alerted him that someone was close. He pulled away just as Franklin stepped around the bend. He didn't say a word. He didn't need to. The look of betrayal in his eyes said it all. He shook his head then stepped off the path, giving Jonathan and Heather a wide berth.

Jonathan grabbed Franklin's shoulder as he passed. "Wait. I can explain."

Frankie jerked out of Jonathan's grasp then ran down the trail.

"Where do you think you're going?" There was nothing down there but the parking lot. Shit. Frankie was going home. Without him. Jonathan didn't like leaving Heather alone on the trail, but he needed to straighten things out with Franklin.

She should be fine as long as she went back to the group around the fire.

"Heather, sweetheart, I need you to go back to the party and find your friends. Stay together and stay away from Rich and his group. I need to see what's up with that crazy brother of mine, but I'll be right back."

He'd forgotten to stutter, but Heather just nodded her head and started walking back up the trail.

Jonathan was about halfway to the parking lot when the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Two guys were pulling a very drunk girl off the trail into the bushes. Not cool. Jonathan had no idea who the guys were, but either they'd heard about the party and decided to crash it or they just stumbled on to it and decided to take advantage of the opportunity — and the intoxicated girl they were half-carrying-half-dragging between them.

Jonathan didn't know her name, but he'd seen her at school. She was only a freshman. She had no business being at this party. What sort of perv takes advantage of a drunk kid?

Jonathan gave them the benefit of the doubt for about two seconds. "Where do you guys think you're going with the jailbait?"

"None of your business, punk."

Since there were two of them and only one of him, Jonathan struck without warning or mercy. A gut-busting sidekick dropped the strutting peacock on his right to his knees. Before he hit the ground, Jonathan threw a right cross to the jaw of his scrawny companion. It snapped the creep's head back a good six inches. But it only made him mad. Never judge a book by its cover — or a potential rapist by his size.

The guy danced around with his elbows tucked in and his fists in front of his face like a boxer. He obviously knew how to fight. Jonathan didn't mess around. He knocked the guy out cold with a round-house kick to the side of his head.

The perv was lucky Jonathan and Franklin had switched identities. If he'd been wearing his hiking boots instead of Franklin's running shoes, the blow might have killed him.

The girl he'd just rescued was too drunk to walk. Jonathan wanted to get to Franklin, but he couldn't just leave her lying by the side of the trail. He picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder and carried her back to the bonfire. She thanked him by puking down the back of Franklin's parka.

When he got back to the party, Jonathan lowered the girl to the ground, yanked his arms out of Franklin's ruined parka and turned it inside out. He used it to position the girls head so she wouldn't drown in her own puke if she threw up again. He didn't see Heather, so he grabbed the first half-way sober girl he saw and enlisted her help.

"Hey, Carrie, do you know this chick?"

"Sort of. She's just a freshman. What's she doing here?"

"Getting herself raped."

Carrie's eyes widened and her mouth formed a little "O" before she frowned.

"A couple of guys were hauling her into the bushes. I roughed 'em up pretty good, so I don't think they're going to be a problem, but can you keep an eye on her? Make sure she doesn't wander off. I gotta go find my brother."

Jonathan suddenly felt light-headed as the last of the adrenaline from the fight left his body. He sagged onto the log next to Carrie and grinned when his car keys poked him in the butt. Franklin wasn't going anywhere without him.

"Sure. But, you might want to find Jonathan before Richard finds you."

Jonathan had almost forgotten about the whole switched identity thing. "Why?"

Carrie made a sour-lemon face then cocked an eyebrow. "Did you or did you not ask Naomi Huffman to have sex with you in the back of the Rover?"

"Oh." A sudden headache tightened Jonathan's scalp. He'd forgotten about that too. What a mess.

"I didn't ask Naomi to have sex. I only implied it."

Carrie snickered and nudged his shoulder. "You're actually pretty funny after a couple of beers. You should drink more often. Anyway... Naomi told everyone that Jonathan put you up to it —told you she was easy or something. She cried on Richard's shoulder until he got so wound up he wants to kill both of you."

"Shit. I really fu — messed it up this time."

Carrie's eyebrows shot into her hairline.

He'd already tarnished Franklin's reputation when he put Trisha in her place. Dropping the F-bomb wasn't going to help. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

When Jonathan leaned forward to stand up, Carrie grabbed his hand. "If you ever get over your crush on Heather Compton, give me a call."

Jonathan was only about three inches off the log. Carrie's revelation unbalanced him and he sat back down. "How'd you know about that?"

Carrie snorted and spread her fingers, releasing his hand. "Everyone knows you've been crushing on that girl since the day she moved here. You should just tell her, ya know? She likes you too. Or at least she did. She's pretty pissed off about you propositioning Trisha.

Jonathan swore again, but didn't bother to apologize this time.

"Like I said, if things don't work out with Heather, give me a call."

"Jonathan's single. Do you want me tell him to give you call?"

"Hell no. I have too much self-respect to go out with that two-timing man-whore."

Jonathan cringed then tried to hide it behind a shy smile. "Okay then. I guess I better go check on the man-whore ... try to keep him out of trouble."

Carrie snorted. "Good luck with that."

Jonathan found Richard, and everyone else, crowded around the entrance to the mine. He shifted his weight to the balls of his feet and tapped Rich on the shoulder. "I hear you've been looking for me."

Instead of taking a swing at him, Richard tugged at his collar and cleared his throat. "Your brother went inside the mine. We've been yelling at him for like, ten minutes, but he won't come out."

"Well, quit yelling. You're going to trigger a cave in." Most of the timbers and support beams inside the mine were over a hundred and fifty years old.

Franklin knew better than to go inside the mine. Never mind the fact that Jonathan went in there all the time to access his stash of pot and beer. He knew what he was doing and never went so far in that he lost sight of the entrance. He prayed Frankie was just screwing with him. Trying to get back at him for kissing Heather.

He frowned at Rich. "You're sure he went inside? This isn't just some prank?"

There were too many solemn faces and wide-eyed stares for it to be a prank.

Rich shook his head. "It's no joke."

"Has anyone called 911, yet?"

Naomi extricated herself from Rich's arms. "You have to find him, Franklin. What if he's hurt?"

A premonition of disaster gnawed at Jonathan's gut, but he couldn't just sit and wait for help to arrive while Frankie was in danger. The longer he was inside the mine, the more likely something bad would happen; if it hadn't already.

"Any of you guys have a flashlight? Or a rope?" Jonathan had both in the Rover, but all he had on him was the penlight attached to his keyring.

"I got a lighter."

Jonathan didn't even try to guess which moron came up with that bright idea. He rolled his eyes and pulled out his keys. The tiny beam from the penlight flickered and shimmied across the rubble and splintered beams that blocked the tunnel. When he aimed it between the cracks, the oily darkness inside the mine swallowed the light before it touched the ground.

"Here, take this." Someone handed him an LED flashlight and a climbing rope. Jonathan muttered a quick "thanks," and turned his back on the crowd. He focused his breath to calm himself and crawled over the pile of rubble. A broken beam scraped his back and left behind a swath of splinters. He really wished that girl hadn't thrown up on Franklin's parka. The deeper he went, the colder he got.

Five minutes later, he rounded a bend and found Franklin sitting on the ground, knees bent, with his head on his forearms.

He sighed, but didn't look up. "Go to hell, Jonathan."

"I'm sure I will, but I'd rather it not be tonight. Come on, let's get outta here.

"You can have anyone you want, why'd you have to go after Heather?"

"I didn't—"

Franklin's head jerked up. "I saw you kiss her."

"No, Franklin. You did not see me kiss Heather. She kissed me but only because she thought I was you!"

"It should have been me." Franklin dropped his head back onto his forearms.

"Shoulda, coulda, woulda. You're such an idiot! You could be kissing her right now. But you'll never get to kiss anyone if we die in here. You know it's not safe this far back in the tunnels."

Jonathan reached out towards Franklin. His left arm was still extended when the support beam collapsed.

Hot, searing pain shot up Jonathan's arm from his left hand into his armpit. The agony lifted his mind out of the trance just enough for him to remember that none of this was real. But it sure felt real. Worse than real. He'd broken his hand in the mine, not severed it.

The creaks and groans of settling debris pulled Jonathan back into the mine. His heart raced. He had to get Franklin out of the mine before another beam gave way.

"Frankie?" A quiet moan sifted through the pile of rubble. At least he was alive. "Frankie, are you okay?"

"No."

Jonathan gritted his teeth to keep from screaming and clawed at the beam that held him pinned to the ground. It wouldn't budge, but in his scrabbling, his hand brushed against the flashlight. He turned it on and discovered a narrow rift between the beam and pile of rubble. He shone the light through the gap and found Franklin lying on the ground. The same beam that pinned Jonathan's left hand had splintered and driven a piece of wood through Franklin's torso, impaling him.

No. This isn't right. Franklin's only injury in the mine had been a mild concussion. He died in Afghanistan. This isn't real. But the nightmare didn't stop.

"It hurts Jon-Jon." Franklin's head lurched forward as he struggled to free himself. "Get me outta here!"

"Stop it Franklin! You're making it worse. Hold still."

Why is this so much worse than what really happened? Blood oozed around the three-inch diameter wound in Franklin's belly, soaking his shirt. "You're okay, Frankie. This isn't real. This isn't how you die."

Franklin tried again to lift his body off the pike then fell back with a groan. His hand went limp, but his chest rose and fell in rapid shallow pants.

"Hang on Frankie, I'm coming. I'll get you out."

A sinister creak reverberated overhead. The beam that had impaled Franklin and trapped Jonathan shifted. Franklin screamed.

Stop this. Please, someone make it stop.

Jonathan and Franklin's chances of getting out alive were decreasing with every second. The constant moans of shifting debris and Franklin's pleas for help gave Jonathan the courage he needed. He ignored the agony of his broken ribs, curled up into a ball, positioned his feet against the beam on either side of his trapped hand, and exploded backwards.

Jonathan hadn't expected his hand to separate so easily. He sat on his butt and stared at his arm. He tied off the bleeding stump with his belt as best he could. He was wasting time fretting over his stupid arm. He clawed at the rocks with his right hand and begged God to save them both.

God didn't answer.

An ominous sound, like a runaway freight train echoed through the tunnels.

"Oh, no. No, no, no ... please God, no." Jonathan doubled his efforts to dig through the rubble. He even used the bloody stump of his left arm, but he'd never get Franklin out before the mine flooded.

"Don't leave me, Jon-Jon. I don't want to die alone."

"I'm not going anywhere, Frankie. I promise. Live or die, we're in this together."

The ground shook as the roar of rushing water grew louder. Jonathan squeezed through the gap and wrapped his arms around Franklin. He lifted him off the splintered beam and held him against his chest. "I've got you Frankie. It's okay."

A wall of icy water slammed into Jonathan's back, ripping Franklin from his arms. Jonathan screamed, but the churning river of debris swallowed the sound. His lungs burned, starving for air. Instinct took over. The first lung-full caused his body to convulse, expelling the life-stealing water. His diaphragm rebelled and forced more dirty water into his lungs. Through it all, Jonathan never stopped screaming Franklin's name.

"Jonathan. Wake up."

Jonathan barely heard the voice. His ears and sinuses still throbbed with each desperate beat of his heart. His lungs were still full of water. He couldn't breathe.

"Snap out of it!"

Jonathan's body jerked like it sometimes did right before falling asleep. He gasped and choked as more water found its way down his trachea. But this time, the water tasted like a swimming pool instead of brine. And it was mixed with patchouli scented air. His eyelids fluttered open. Blue's face hovered over his.

"What the hell?"

"I'm sorry about throwing water in your face, but you refused to come out of trance and I have another client in ten minutes."

"What the hell did you do to me?"

Blue patted his knee. "I didn't do a thing except guide you into a level six stage of profound somnambulism. The rest was all you."

Yeah, right. Jonathan wanted to get the hell out of there as fast as possible, but his body refused to cooperate. He was still flying higher than a freaking a kite.

Blue glanced at her notes then back at Jonathan. "You seemed to be experiencing an amalgamation of two separate traumatic events. Can you elaborate on what happened?"

"Yeah. I was drugged without consent and then mind fucked."

Blue's eyebrows twitched, but that was her only reaction to Jonathan's accusation.

He hoped he'd be able to sort out his memories. He'd been a little more claustrophobic after he and Franklin were rescued from the mine, but now ... just the thought of going into a mine made him dizzy. He hoped it was just an after effect of the drugs.

Blue poured a cup of what smelled like coffee into a mug and handed it Jonathan.

He shook his head. "No thanks."

She had the nerve to actually roll her eyes. "It's just coffee. The caffeine will help you shake off any lingering effects of the trance."

Jonathan climbed out of the recliner and headed for the front door. A middle-aged woman was sitting on the couch in the living room, flipping through a new-age magazine. She looked up when Jonathan walked by.

He nodded towards the beaded curtains. "Whatever you do, don't drink the tea."
Read the rest of Jonathan's story in River's Recruit

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Charlotte Abel was born and raised in Oklahoma. She spent many happy summers visiting relatives in Arkansas. She now lives in Colorado with her husband, Pete and loves hiking, biking, snowshoeing and skiing in the Rocky Mountains.

Visit her at CharlotteAbel.com and on Twitter @charlotte_abel
Shine of Change

## A new adult paranormal romance by C.L. Foster

"Oh thank Heavens!" she shouted as she flopped on her back on the firm soil and smiled softly. She wanted to roll around on the ground just to make sure it was real. Before she could start her rolling, a branch snapped behind her. Instead of whipping her head around in alarm, she stilled her breathing and calmly turned her head toward the sound. She figured if something knew it was heard, it wouldn't move out of fear and if it was trying to be heard, then she didn't need to rush to look anyway.

Just as she looked for the cause of the sound, she saw a flash of something dark dart behind her. She figured she was seeing things. Just as she was about to rise from the ground, the world went black.

~

"Wake up, already," Melina heard as she began to float back to the surface of reality. She shook her head to loosen the cobwebs that cluttered her mind and immediately regretted the shake. Pain coursed through her head and down her back and she whimpered.

"I'm sorry about that. I kind of panicked when I saw your ship or boat or whatever that thing is crash into my swamp," the voice mumbled to her. The rugged drawl tickled down Melina's spine. She had to shake that off quickly; she had business to do and she was pretty sure his name was not business.

"Yes, because after a girl crashes, she is well prepared for an even and hardy duel," Melina drolled.

"Fair enough, but in my defense I don't know you and you did kind of fly into the middle of my paradise in something I've never seen before. How's a guy supposed to know whether or not he's safe?" When she huffed, he continued, "I just reacted and I apologize. Please, can I get you something for your head? Tylenol? Cold rag?"

"What, in God's name, is a tie-len-all? You can let me go," Melina suggested when she tried to move and realized she had been immobilized. "Rope? Truly? You've no other means of keeping me under control?"

"Tylenol is for headaches and pains. Not big on medicines, huh? And don't sound so cocky. That rope is holding you just fine," the voice responded.

She blinked her eyes, trying to focus on the voice. She was outside and the light was blinding. Trees were tall and thick with leaves. It smelled fresh and clean. She was definitely a very long way from home.

She blinked a few times when she heard a strange sound. Then, she saw the man pull a tiny device from the pocket of a very strange garment that looked a little too snug for a man of his size. He had long, flowing black hair and eyes so green, they pierced right through her heart the moment his gaze locked on hers.

He placed the device on his face, next to his ear and then spoke, "Yes, I did hear that. I saw it, too. I was in the field when it crashed," he spoke, sounding frustrated. "I went to check it out, but it's lodged in the middle of the marsh. I will take the boat out in a bit, but there was a survivor and I have her here." He paused and appeared as if he was listening to someone on the other end of the device. It was extraordinary. Sleek, black. Fascinating. "Yes, her. I know my pronouns, Dantez. Thanks for your vote of confidence. I am going to find out who she is and then figure out the next step. Can you chill?"

Chill? Why would he want the person to be cold? Her thoughts raced at incredible speeds. She didn't know who this man was, where she had ended up, and worst of all - when.

When he put the device back in his pocket, she found her voice quicker than she thought. "Can you tell me what year it is?" Melina asked timidly.

"Are you serious?" he jested. "I didn't hit you that hard. Geez. Play up the victim card, why don't you?"

"I assure you, sir. I am not creating folly for your amusement. Please answer my question," she pleaded.

When he realized she seemed to be truly asking, " Oh, it's 2014."

"First of all, I am the victim here, sir. I crashed and then was assaulted and tied to a very uncomfortable seat in the middle of a forest. How am I to know what you have planned for me?" Her chin jutted out defiantly as if to show her strength, but the man just put his head down a bit and chuckled.

"Well, you certainly act the part of lost in space or something. I am not sure what to do with you. I think I am going to get a little bit of help on this. Would you feel more comfortable with a lady around?"

"In fact, I would. Thank you," she responded quietly. "And I would like to accompany you, if I may. This place is very unfamiliar to me and I feel ill prepared being tied to a seat and all."

"We don't have to go anywhere," he responded as he removed the device again and took a step away from her, turning his back. Whoa. The garment might have been a bit snug in fit, but it showed off all of his assets beautifully. Perhaps this time period and its clothing trends wasn't so bad after all.

"Hey, are you guys busy with anything interesting? I have a little something going on at the edge of your property; if you'd like to come check it out, I would be thrilled." She could hear the smile and reverence in his voice. Whoever he was speaking to, he felt she was superior to him. A lover?

He put the device away and turned back around. The shirt he wore had no sleeves and when he moved, his chest and arms flexed. He was lean and tight and much different than the men she was used to.

"Help will arrive in -" he looked up and smiled, "about thirty seconds."

"How could you -?" she began when she heard leaves rustle and suddenly three women appeared from the wooded area to her right. They stood silently for a full minute before moving forward. They were dressed stranger than the man. Each was wearing small, colorful garments with no snaps or other adornments. Nearly all of their legs were showing and much of their chests were exposed as well. They also wore no shoes.

They moved like a unit and surrounded her; one on each side and one behind her. The one on her left put her hands just above Melina's head and paused, then turned quickly to the man.

"Zotom, you hit this woman? What is wrong with you?" she pounced close to the man and punched him in the chest. Flying backward, he fought to steady himself to remained upright. He didn't strike her or retaliate in any way; he just clung to his chest, coughed a few times, and then walked back to where he was originally standing.

"Seriously? She came out of a freaking metal something in the air and then crawled through the swamp like nothing happened. She's either a superhero or some psycho badass that I am not taking chances on. If I didn't know better, I would assume she was related to one of you," he gestured wildly between the three women. His words were strange, but she caught what he meant. "Besides, she talks funny and I have never seen clothes like that before," he added.

"It is not a metal something. It is an alloy, which is much stronger than just a simple metal," Melina spoke. "If you go into your marsh or whatever you call that thing, you will see my ship should remain unharmed. I built it to last and withstand such things. I wasn't expecting it to be submerged in water, but I'm confident it's just fine. If you can assist me in that, I will gladly be on my way and not bother you again. I'm sure I can fix any malfunction it has quickly, as I am its creator and built it myself." Her eyes were sincere and strong, but also pleading and sad. She was proud of her work, but nervous of its fate.

"She tells the truth," the woman to her right spoke. "Untie her at once." She commanded the man and he leapt to do her bidding as if he were her pet. This world was so different for Melina. In her time, men ruled everything. These women seemed in total control of the situation.

"Sorry, I just had to be sure. I'm not all juju crazy stuff like you guys. That's why I called." He made quick work of the intricate knots and untied her. As he finished the knot at her feet, his knuckled rubbed the inner part of her ankle, just above her boot. The moment his flesh met hers, she was sure her entire body melted into a puddle. He looked up at her and they locked eyes, his green clashing with her brown as he worked the other knot without looking at it. He seemed to slow his process, but not stop completely.

When he rose and tossed the ropes to the forest floor, she chose to stay seated as she wasn't sure if her legs would work properly after he was in such close proximity to her.

"She's a smarty pants, but she is also being honest about her ship and that she would leave if we help her." The woman then turned to her. She had striking features and reminded Melina of an exotic goddess. She had a cascade of flowing blonde curly locks and her eyes seemed to be two different colors. "My dear, are you well? Is someone trying to hurt you? You can be honest with me. I will know immediately if you lie."

Instinctively knowing the woman was being truthful had nothing to do with the fact that Melina wanted to be honest with them. She took a slow, deep breath and then began, "I am running away from my family. My father is a bishop of the church, so he has very strict rules when it comes to me. My brother went missing recently and now my family wants me to wed some baron or duke or some such nonsense and I am just not the marrying type. I am an inventor and it's not right for me to be that way. I am supposed to be a lady and do as I'm told and play the part, but I just cannot do that forever. I can't fake happiness. Why would they push me to do something for their own good? What about my good and my happiness?" Melina burst into tears and the first woman came to her left side and hugged her.

"We are here, sweetie. Don't be upset. We'll try to help you. I promise." The woman had amazing blue eyes and pink hair. Pink! She looked up to the blonde goddess who nodded slightly in agreement.

The blonde spoke again, "Yes and I'm sorry. We have forgotten our manners. I am Saber and these are my sisters, Audire and Rozar."

"Hello, I'm Melina Rose Bathhurst," she choked out as she wiped away a stream of tears.

"Oh, and I am Zotom," the man said as he stepped forward. "I apologize again for the whole bashing you over the head thing. I -"

"Most excitement I've had all week, save for my ship crashing," Melina interrupted with a muffled giggle. "You are forgiven, sir." She looked up at him so he could see the joy in her eyes. Even through her tears, she was enjoying the conversation with those around her.

"So, what can we do to help you, Melina?" the other woman asked. She thought the exotic woman called her Audire. Her hair was so black, it nearly seemed blue. These women were beauties, but something about them was very different.

"Pardon me, I'm sorry for not answering you immediately, but you all have such strange names and look so exotic. A bit before your arrival, Zotom," she nodded to the man, "told me the year is 2014. Is that accurate?" She looked to him as if to apologize for not trusting him.

"Uhm, yeah. That's right. I could tell by how you speak that you aren't from around here, but you aren't sure of the year? What year did you think it was?" Rozar, the dark-pink haired woman asked her. She was still so close after releasing Melina from the hug before.

"Well, 1809 of course," she answered matter-of-factly.

Strange looks were passed around by everyone and thick silence blanketed the area for a full minute. Then the goddess stepped forward slightly.

"Melina, excuse our hesitance and silence. Are you saying that you are from the year 1809? And you crashed here on our land more than two hundred years later without realizing?" Saber asked.

"It's been a mere hour or so for me, miss. I apologize if I seem strange, but from your way of dress and speech and from his interesting device, I knew something wasn't quite right," she nodded her head to Zotom again. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the device again. "And I was merely on a mission to try to find my brother. My family is very concerned about his well-being. When he is home doing his manly part for the family, they usually leave me to my tinkering. If he is gone forever, they'll force me into something I don't want."

"Marriage?" Audire asked.

"Yes. I know I am not a typical woman for my time, but I enjoy what I do. I might dress the part," she looked down at her now-filthy but still beautiful clothing, "but this is as normal as I get. I can be found in my shop or hiding somewhere outside nearly any hour of the day trying to improve my inventions, make new ways of doing things, and building. I love to work with my hands and bring something mechanical to life. It's incredible and my family doesn't understand that."

"Yes, well family can be a bit over-bearing sometimes," Audire agreed with a small chuckle. "But usually they are looking out for your best interest. You were doing a great thing. Do you know how you got knocked off course?"

"I truly don't. I changed things around in my engine only a week ago and hadn't yet had time to test it out. While I'm very interested in ways to bend time and space, I don't think anyone has a firm grip on that just yet. I was only tinkering with ideas and formulas. Then, my brother went missing and I had to rush to do something. I guess something I changed in my machine made me leap through time," Melina was gushing about her work and science and the excitement in her eyes made everyone around her smile.

"You're a super genius!" Rozar announced.

"I'm sure I'm not that, miss. I do enjoy the work though. No one would listen to my theories. They think because I'm a woman that I don't know what I am speaking of, but I obviously do. I'n here," she looked like she would burst from happiness at any moment. "This time is so different. And that device," she pointed at Zotom, "that's just amazing."

"His cell phone?" Saber asked pointing to the device. When she looked confused still, Saber added, "It's a way to speak with people from long distances away. He used that to call our home and ask us to come here."

Her eyes bulged in fascination, "That is possible? How intriguing. How does the device work? You have one as well and can answer him? Without wires or pipes? How is it powered? It is so small. Can I touch it?" She eyed the device intently, but Zotom slid it back into his pocket. She seemed to deflate a bit with the device being out of sight.

"Technology has come a very long way in just a few hundred years," Rozar giggled.

"So it would seem," Melina agreed. Her eyes continued to sparkle.

"I tell you what, Melina. We will fish your hunk of alloy out of the swamp, get you and that thing cleaned up, and while you eat something, I can show you all kinds of nifty devices and things," Zotom offered.

Her eyes lit up and she jumped from the seat. "Very well, let's be off then. You don't happen to have a device that can pull my ship from that water, do you?" she joked.

"As a matter of fact, we do," answered the inky-haired sister, Audire. "Back in a jiffy." She darted off from the direction that they came. She was so fast, Melina was sure her eyes were playing tricks on her. She'd never seen a woman run so fast in her life.

"What is a jiffy? Is this a new device?" Melina looked confused and fascinated.

"No, she means quickly," Saber soothed.

"Oh. I apologize. I feel this time is very confusing and exciting for me at once," Melina lamented with a giggle.

"Yeah, I'm sure it is. Don't worry. We are pretty simple and are willing to help you in any way we can. This has to be crazy for you," Rozar spoke up, coming close to Melina again and tugging her into a half hug again.

"Okay, enough of this girly time, let's get to work," Zotom spoke as he heard a slight rumbling behind him. "Sounds like Audire has returned with the cherry picker."

"You have something that picks your fruit for you? How convenient. You all must be very busy if you need such a device." Melina's fascination made them all smile.

"No, a cherry picker is a machine used to pull heavy things out of places. In this case, it is a boat of ours that should be strong enough to drag your ship to shore," Saber responded.

"Intriguing. May I see it?" Melina asked, finally standing up to join the others.

"Sure, come with me," Saber answered and started walking toward the swamp.

~

Within thirty minutes, Melina's ship was safely on shore. It was filthy, but completely intact as she had guessed. Her proud smile was evident on her classically beautiful features.

She stood at the edge of the swamp with the other women while Zotom laid lazily against a tree and simply watched. She wore a green and purple outfit like he'd never seen before. It had a corset below and a vest on top, both laced up intricately. The skirt she had on once looked as if it would have been poofy if not for being weighed down by tons of mud and gunk. The belt around her waist had tiny pouches all around it. Though most would probably assume she was uncomfortable, something told him that she was prepared for nearly any situation.

When it was secure on land, she pulled herself up on one of the outer rungs of the ship, swung her leg over the side of something that he didn't even realize was a door, and dropped inside in one swift motion. He heard some banging from within the craft, a bit of words he was sure her father would not approve of, and then saw her head pop out again.

"I'm afraid I will need a few things to fix this damage, but it shouldn't take me very long at all. Is there somewhere I can trade for things?"

"Trade?"

"Yes, I have food, clothing, goods. I just need a few bits of copper and other small things. I'll know it when I see it," Melina nodded.

"We have a workshop at our house where Audire does most of her art and things. I'm sure we have a few scraps of random stuff there if you would like to check it out. And whatever she doesn't have, we can go to town and get for you, if we must," Saber answered quickly. "You need to get cleaned up and if you're hungry, maybe even a meal with us as well," she added.

"Oh, thank you. That would be lovely," Melina responded, sounding shocked.

"Come down from that contraption and let's head over to the house. We are just a few minutes away," Rozar spoke this time.

She descended quickly and effortlessly as if she had done it a million times before. She landed her heavily-booted feet on the ground and Audire nodded. "She's quite cat-like. I can see why you would worry she is our family," she said to Zotom.

"See? Told ya."

"Cat like?" Melina asked. "As in a feline? Are you calling me graceful?"

"Something like that, yes," Audire responded with a smile. "Come, let's get over there before we lose the light."

"We also have many supplies at our camp," Zotom offered. "If there are things she needs that you don't have, I would be happy to take her there so she can check me out, I mean us. I mean our stuff. The supplies." He stumbled over his words until he blushed, put his head down, and kept walking.

"That is very nice of you. Thank you, sir," Melina said with a giggle.

"He's never like that. I don't know what his deal is," Rozar whispered to Melina.

"Perhaps he's worried I'll cause harm to you," Melina supplied.

"No, it appears you are doing harm to him," Audire chuckled.

Melina stopped quickly and turned to Zotom, "Have I? Oh sir, I apologize. What have I done to harm you? I shall fix it immediately."

"Sweetie, we don't do that these days. Men and women are equal and you did nothing to that cretin. You don't have to apologize because he finds you attractive," Audire added.

"Oh. Oh my," Melina blushed to match Zotom's expression and turned quickly to begin walking again. "I apologize for my abrupt stop," she whispered to Rozar.

Rozar simply smiled and said, "Nothing to be sorry about. This amuses me so much more than you know."

~

They made it back to the house and slipped in the mudroom door, giving Melina access to a warm shower and a change of clothes, courtesy of Rozar. As the most modest of all the sisters, it was only right that she supply Melina with something semi suitable. She had given Melina black capri pants and a plain green t-shirt.

"I wasn't sure what you would like to wear, but this goes with your boots, kinda and you seemed to like green," Rozar said timidly. "I'm sorry I don't have something fancier, but my sisters do and you don't seem the type to want to wear those things," she gestured to the low cut tops her sisters donned.

"No, this will work beautifully. Thank you for your kindness, miss," Melina said sincerely.

She was shown how to use the shower and left her to her business. When she finished, they went back out of the mudroom door and out to the shop for supplies.

They made quick work of going through the supplies and Melina was able to get a few bits and pieces of things she thought would work to fix her ship, including some bonus materials she had never seen before.

"This room is simply fascinating. I knew that things would eventually take off and people would look into alternative sources for fuel and light and everything," she gushed and walked around the room touching everything she could. "When I get back home, it will be difficult for me not to try to duplicate some of these things. It's probably better if I stop touching everything, but it's so difficult. With a push of a button you get light. No flame. Incredible."

"Maybe we shouldn't take her back in the house and show her the television," Zotom joked.

"What is that? Now I want to see it," she stepped toward him so quickly, he nearly stumbled over himself trying to back away before she could touch him.

"It's a waste of a smart girl's time," Audire said. "It's for mindless entertainment and makes you lazy."

"Oh, that doesn't sound fun at all," Melina agreed and frowned at Zotom. "I would much rather stay here and play with all of this," she motioned to the table covered in gadgets, wires, pieces of machines, and more.

"I'm going to go make us all a little snack, then we can head back to your ship and we can help you, if you can tell us what all you need done. Does that sound okay, Melina?" Rozar asked.

"Yes, that sounds just lovely, thank you."

Melina sat at the stool closest to the door and began to take apart a small box. She tugged at her clothes uncomfortably for a moment and then looked around to make sure no one was watching her. The clothes were surprisingly soft and fit very well, but she was worried too much of her body was showing.

She adjusted a knob on the box and it suddenly burst open. Springs, cogs, and other parts went flying. She stepped off of the stool to gather the things and bumped heads with Zotom who had leaned down to help her. She didn't even realize he was in the room still.

"Oh man. I'm so sorry. I keep causing you injury," Zotom said as he grabbed her elbow to steady her when she swayed backward.

"I think I'm okay. I just need to sit down for a moment. Trust me, I have survived much worse," she chuckled.

Fury flashed through his eyes, "Someone has hurt you before?"

"No, not in that way," she answered quickly. "My brother is a year older than I am and has tormented me all of my life. He loved to play tricks on me, hide my things, and make me chase after him. We were very close." Sadness filled her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Zotom guided her back to the stool and continued to pick up the pieces. "Do you know where he would have gone? Or why he left?"

"My father wanted him to join the church, but we are just not cut from the same cloth as our family. My father's choices never seem right to us and when he tried to force his ideals on us, we have always fought back. This time, Benjamin just had enough. He said to me that he was going to go on a small trip to find himself and would return soon. After a week, I began to worry. When the second week was complete, my father started to push me to marry this man whom I have no attraction to. The man wants me to be a mother and take care of his home, but I'm simply not that sort of woman. I know it's unusual, but that's just not how I'm made. I love to be home and be with my family, but I like to do things, too. I want purpose in my life. I want to make a difference and try new things. That is so taboo in my time," she paused and looked out the door toward the house. "These women, they are so lucky that they have power and choices." She suddenly stopped. "Oh goodness, I'm sorry. I talk too much."

"No, I love to hear your voice. I think it's great that you are like that. Women are still treated like objects or are used to care only for children now, also. But there are some women like these Cortez sisters that fight for what they want and do what is right. I've never met such stubborn, amazing women in my life. I've only known them a short time, but we already call each other family." He smiled at her as he stood with the parts in his hands. He placed them on the table behind her, his breath only inches from her temple. She felt instantly like her heart would burst.

"There are no men that look like you where I come from," she admitted before thinking. She blushed furiously and bowed her head to hide her face.

"What? Rugged, exotic, incredibly sexy?" he jeered as he took a few steps back and then made an overly manly stance in the middle of the room. His miniature muscle flex would have made any of the sisters laugh and call him embarrassing things, he was sure of it.

"Yes. All of those things." She kept her head down while speaking.

She heard the wind leave his lungs and silence filled the small space. Before she could speak, Rozar peered through the door and said, "Come on out. We set up a picnic."

"Yes. On my way. Thank you, miss," Melina scurried to follow Rozar. When she stepped out of the room there were more people than before. A few more ladies had joined and at least three more men.

The amount of people would have intimidated her on any other day as she loved to be on her own and away from crowds, but the people seemed so happy. They were laughing and joking with each other. They all looked completely strange to Melina. Their clothes were strange, their hair was odd, some had colorful pictures adorning their bodies and jewelry in body parts that seemed uncomfortable at best. No matter their differences, they were happy and together. Soon, without noticing, sorrow nestled in her heart. She never had times like this with her own family. Perhaps if there were just a few days like that, where family and fun were what was most important, she wouldn't have been so miserable. Perhaps Benjamin wouldn't have run away. Perhaps things would have been different all together.

"Come sit and have some food with us, Melina," Rozar called from across a lovely blanket placed on the grass under a shaded part of the vast yard.

"Yes, thank you," Melina rushed. "I believe I was lost in thought for a moment. My apologies, miss." She timidly sat beside Rozar and noticed a strikingly handsome man sitting very close to her. He had a giant mass of blonde hair and didn't seem to notice anything, except that Rozar was next to him. Envy filled Melina's heart.

"No problem. We all do that from time to time," she poked the man in the chest. "This is my mate, Shade."

The man nodded his head and said, "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, ma'am."

"You as well, sir," Melina blushed. The men were all so polite and sweet. How did these women stand it?

"Be careful getting lost in your thoughts. If Audire is near, you should worry. She can hear your thoughts," Rozar added.

"What? Truly she can?" When the woman nodded, Melina turned to Audire and said, "What am I thinking at this very moment?"

"You're thinking you wish you didn't have to go home and that you could stay here with us," she answered without looking up from her feast.

Melina, in a very unladylike moment, simply sat with her mouth hanging open.

"I told you," Rozar giggled. "Aww, that's sweet. You can stay with us as long as you like. We have space here and at the Calusa camp as well. Isn't that right, Zotom?"

"Uhh yeah. I have rooms. A place. We have stuff. Yes."

Everyone in the yard barked in laughter.

"Melina, you truly must be something magical. This guy never acts like this," a darker, taller version of Zotom said as he stepped from behind a tree. "Sorry I'm late, guys. What's for lunch?"

"Dantez, it's about time. Come on over. We have fruit, veggies, sandwiches, and whatever. Just jump on in," Audire invited.

"Looks delicious," he agreed, then turned to Melina again. "Hello, I'm Dantez. I believe my brother spoke about you earlier on the phone. He's been a little naughty today. Typically, we don't casually assault lovely ladies like yourself. I do hope you can forgive him for being such a buffoon."

"Sir, I am not sure what a buffoon is, but I have forgiven him and understand his stance. It takes a lot more than a little tap on the head to take me out. That's for sure," she smiled triumphantly.

She was gifted with a broad smile from the man. "Nice. I like you."

"Thank you, sir. You seem lovely as well."

They all sat and had lunch. Their mother was said to be busy, but she showed up before the end of lunch. A strikingly gorgeous woman, when she walked up to the place they were all sitting, it was as if the wind carried her there. It was amazing to Melina. She was sure something was different about this family, but she couldn't figure out what. This time was so strange to her, but she was hoping to learn their secret before leaving.

When lunch concluded, the girls talked and the men cleaned up quickly. Melina stood in awe when she tried to help and Dantez said, "No, dear. We have it under control, but thank you so much for offering." He was polite and he wouldn't let her clean. Surely this was some other dimension or universe.

She wandered back to the room with all the gadgets and leaned against the door frame. Letting out a content sigh, she gathered the things she planned to take to the ship, and turned to head back so she could start work.

She immediately slammed right into Zotom and dropped all of the parts on the ground.

"My goodness. I'm so sorry. I feel very clumsy today or unlucky or something."

"Well, I feel lucky and you're in a different place surrounded by strangeness. You're just a little off, that's all," Zotom comforted.

She tilted her head slightly and he chuckled. "Why do you laugh at me?"

"It's just very cute that you make the same face and tilt your head just like the sisters do. They all make that same face when they are confused. It's endearing."

"Well, if I am to be compared to any women alive, I'm honored to be compared to them. They each seem so unique and amazing."

"That, they are."

"Why haven't you taken one of them as wife?" she asked sincerely.

His eyes bugged and he choked on the air. "One of them? No. I mean, they are nice, yes, but they're not my type and I see them as family."

"Your brother sees them as family as well, but I think he has eyes for that one," she pointed to Saber. "Who wouldn't? She is very exotic and commands attention."

"That, she does -." His sentence was cut off by a loud explosion. Zotom threw Melina to the ground and covered her with his body. Scanning the area, he looked for what could have caused the sound. Tendrils of smoke rising from the forest showed them where the source of the blast came from.

Looking down at Melina, anticipation, not fear covered her features. "What was that? Is everyone okay?" she asked.

"Well, I'm fine. How are you?" he smiled down at her.

"I am quite comfortable, even with a hulking mass of man covering me," she jested.

"Oh, sorry," he leapt up, grabbed her hand, and pulled her up to him in one motion.

"You're very graceful," was all she could say.

She looked around the yard to see if all was well. Instead of running away from the explosion like many would expect, she and the others actually headed toward the blast. As they got closer, they realized it was her ship. When she saw her hard work and only way home billowing smoke and dripping cinders, she dropped to her knees and wept.

"It'll take forever to fix this!" she lamented.

"Don't worry, I will help you," Zotom offered honestly.

"Really?"

"Yes, of course. All of us will," he volunteered before anyone could even speak. He knelt down beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders in a comforting hug.

"Thank you. I don't know what could've happened. Everything was stable when I walked away earlier. I closed everything. Nothing was left burning. I don't understand."

"I do," grunted Audire. She dragged a man by the back of his neck like he were a puppy. Her strength was incredible. "I found this ingrate hiding in the bushes over there. Guess who he works for?"

"Moreno." Rozar spoke the name it burned her mouth.

"Why has our father sent you here? State your business. Now," Audire demanded as she shook the man.

"We heard the crash and he wanted to know what was going on and sent me to find out. He said if there is evidence or something here that can help you defeat us to get rid of it, so I did," he smiled and sucked his teeth in victory.

"Your father would do this?" Melina asked.

"Yes, even two hundred years later, fathers don't always understand their daughters."

A breath later, Melina saw two giant cats emerge from the forest. She jumped up and hid behind Zotom. "Oh my goodness, what should we do? I have no weapons. Where did those things come from?" Panic welled in her voice.

"Relax," Zotom soothed. "They are totally fine."

"They are giant cats! Look at those claws and teeth. What is fine about that?" her voice had become shrill and cracked at the last syllable.

"Because," Zotom turned and grabbed her face, kissed her forehead, and looked back at her. "Trust me. Calm down."

"Okay." Something about him made her trust him immediately. When he turned back, she saw the cats stand on their hind legs and walk forward like people. As they walked, they began to shift into humans. Before her eyes, the amazing women she met earlier emerged from the giant cats. Their fur changed into flesh, their claws retracted, and they were there, literally in the flesh.

Dantez tossed them both a shirt and shorts and they dressed quickly.

"Sorry about that, Melina. We had to protect our home," Rozar said as she rushed to her side. "I am sure this is a whole lot to take in at once and you're probably pretty freaked out right now, but we really are good people and will help you fix your ship or make a new one or whatever you need. I think I speak for all of us when I say I'm so sorry our father harmed your amazing creation."

"In the future all people can turn into animals? Or just you?" Melina asked honestly, her curiosity levee had burst and her mind was racing.

"Umm, not all people can, just really special ones," Zotom answered for them.

"You?"

"Yes, but I'm not a cat. I can show you later, if you'd like."

"Interesting. Perhaps it will be a nice bit of scientific research to stay here a while and learn your ways before going home," Melina said slowly. Her words were coming shorter and slower as if she were thinking already.

"Well, we have plenty of space for you to stay with us," Rozar volunteered. "Or you can stay with Zotom's tribe also or split it up. I'm not sure how long it will take you to fix your machine, but I'm sure we can handle it."

"It may take me a very long time to fix it," Melina said slowly as she looked up to Zotom.

"I hope so," he acknowledged.

The girls giggled and Dantez smiled broadly. "Well, now that we have that settled and this vermin to take care of," he took the wiggling man from Audire's hand. "How about we head back to the house, get what we can out of this guy, and dispose of him properly? What say you?"

"Yes!" everyone shouted.

"Oh my goodness. Are they going to kill him?" Melina asked Zotom quietly.

"No, they are just going to ask him some questions and then make him work for us for a while. It's how they do things here." When she looked confused, he added, "You know, it's a very long story that I will happily tell you while you're here with us."

"Fair enough. Would you accompany me to my craft? I just need to see if anything has survived. I can use as many parts from it as possible if anything is salvageable."

Zotom looked saddened, but agreed. "You know, you could stay here with me... with us. You don't have to go back there."

"I appreciate your lovely offer," she answered and then looked into his eyes. "I tell you what, you assist me in rebuilding my craft and by the time it's ready, I will let you properly persuade me to either stay or go. Do we have a deal?"

"How long do you think it will take?"

"Weeks, I'm sure." She looked over the destruction as they got closer. "Gosh, maybe even a few months. This is a wreck."

"Deal."

"You are either very confident in your ability to persuade me to stay or have a very devious plot to keep me here, sir," she guessed. "I am intrigued either way."

"As am I."

They checked the wreckage and found that there were many key parts of the craft that were still in working order. She plucked and dragged parts to the tree line and showed Zotom what was good and what was a waste. He watched her in fascination as she meticulously went over each piece. She obviously loved the work and was very proud of her creation.

"I'm very sorry about your craft, Melina," he offered sincerely.

"Yes, I am as well. Something was obviously not right with it or it wouldn't have crashed in the first place though, correct?"

"Yeah, you have a point. You'll fix it up good as new."

"You sound very confident in me for someone who just met me."

"Well, our first day has been an interesting one, but I feel like I will have enough days and backup," he gestured to the forest where they could still see the others heading back toward the house, "to convince you that fate brought you here."

"I guess we better get to work soon then. You have a big job ahead of you," she said, leaving the meaning open.

"I guess so, but how about tomorrow? First, let me show you how mindless television is and how amazing popcorn is."

"Very well. Let's finish up here and then head back with the others."

"Ooh, so bossy."

She giggled, "I promise I don't mean to be. I don't think I've ever had a man around that would help me with things, so it's refreshing to have. I apologize if I come off sassy to you."

"It's okay. I love a sassy woman." She blushed and got back to her work.

~

After all of the parts that could be salvaged were dragged to the tree line, Zotom used his device to get some people to help bring the pieces to a place called Calusa. He said it was close and safe and had plenty of space for her to work where she would be protected by his people.

She felt very out of place, but also comfortable and safe at the same time. It was definitely odd, but nice to feel that she didn't have demands on her or was disappointing anyone.

The girl called Saber gave her something called "jammy pants and a tank top" to sleep in that night after another shower. The pants were luxuriously soft and had tiny pink hearts all over them. Zotom was waiting for her in the kitchen of the home she was going to sleep in for the next few weeks or so, the Cortez Sister's home.

"You look lovely," he told her when she came in the room.

"I feel very odd," she admitted and tugged at her clothing.

"That's okay, we are all odd around here," he smiled and took her hand. "Come, let me show you what people in this day in age do for fun in the middle of the night."

"Don't they sleep?" Melina asked honestly as they entered a room full of people on various couches, chairs, and giant cushions scattered around. There were two spots remaining on the couch, so Zotom tugged her there to sit with him.

"Sometimes, yes. Other times, there are things like this," he pressed a button on a slim device and a box with light flashed in front of her eyes. She was mesmerized.

"See? She's already American. Welcome home, Melina," Zotom chuckled.

"Oh hush, you," she giggled and then settled next to him. "Oh, I didn't realize I was so close." She blushed and went to move away slightly.

He lightly touched her arm. "No, please stay. It's okay to sit close to someone now. I promise I won't bite you. Tonight." He smiled as she settled again and pretended to be comfortable with his leg and arm touching her. He knew it wasn't proper in her time to do that, but he wanted to have her close to him.

"Thank you for not biting me. Earlier I was very nervous about such a thing," she joked and the girls all giggled.

"Who's making the popcorn?" Zotom yelled.

"Keep your panties on, I'm working on it," Audire bellowed back from the kitchen.

"Tonight we rest. Tomorrow back to work. Deal?" Zotom asked Melina.

"Deal."

Read more about the Cortez sisters in Grip of Mortality by C.L. Foster

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

C.L. has lived all over the world and has a Bachelor's degree in Criminal Justice, minoring in Psychology and Forensics. Which means you don't want to cross her because she knows how and where to hide a body so it's never found! She proudly admits to hearing voices in her head, but at times, her characters' impromptu visits can be rude and annoying. Thankfully, she has adequate patience for their shenanigans and can out ninja them any day of the week. Visit her at http://www.authorclfoster.com/ or follow on Twitter @CLFoster1

# Always Be Yourself

## A new adult paranormal romance by Delphina Henley

Unicorns Are Everywhere

Always be yourself—unless you can be a unicorn. Then always be a unicorn.

The saying on the menu board was a bit silly and whimsical to most people who read it as they looked for today's coffee special, but to Scout, it was just one more unicorn reference to weigh her down. It felt to her as if the world knew Grandma Nora had passed and wanted to torment her. A young girl had a unicorn doll in her hand while riding the bus. The store where she picked up the last of the things she thought she needed for college had novelty unicorns, that apparently farted candy corn, sitting on the counter. The bookstore had an end cap devoted to them. Her social media was flooded with unicorn memes and even ads for cans of unicorn meat. Really, unicorn meat? It even claimed it tasted like chicken. Goodness, the pizza place she stopped to get a bite at last evening had a unicorn-themed party in full swing upon her arrival. They were everywhere. A small part of her knew it was no coincidence. At least this "silly" sign gave her hope.

Grabbing a cup of her favorite coffee, Scout quickly found a seat in the back of the shop. She really needed to be alone in the company of strangers. While she wanted to go unnoticed as she opened the letter her Grandma Nora had left for her, she did not want to be alone in her house. For some reason, her favorite coffee shop seemed like the ideal place. After reading the sign, she wondered if there was more to her decision than met the eye. Scout knew she was not like other people, but she had learned the art of fitting in. She had to. After the school started pushing her parents to seek "professional" advice over what they considered her inability to tell the difference between her fantasy world and reality, her grandma had pulled her aside. She told her she had to pretend not to see the things she saw, pretend she did not feel the things she felt, and to not share the "coincidences" that seemed to occur in her life on a regular basis. Grandma Nora always believed in her and, even at eight years old, Scout understood that she had to heed her grandmother's advice. She was sure the abundance of unicorns that popped up around her was one of those things she should probably keep to herself. Not that she had anyone to share it with.

In many ways, Grandma Nora had been her only friend. Sure, she had people from high school who she hung out with. It saddened Nora to the point of tears that none of her high school friends were truly friends. How could they be? No one had ever actually known her but her grandmother, and now she was gone. Even her parents did not know her. They did not want her to pretend to be normal—they actually wanted her to be normal. Something that Scout knew she would never be.

It had been two weeks since her grandmother's passing and a week since she had found the letter. She had tried to read it numerous times, but could not bring herself to open it. Something always stopped her. She kept telling herself she was just not ready, but it was more than that. She knew that it would change everything. Now was the moment of truth. Looking back up at the sign, Scout sighed and took out the letter. It was time.

Ignoring the noise of the afternoon rush, she broke the wax seal on the back of the envelope. Grandma Nora was nothing if not old fashioned. Slowly removing the contents, she took a deep breath. She could do this. In less than twenty-four hours, she was on her way to New England to start college. If she did not do it now, she would carry the weight of the unread words with her as she tried to start anew.

~My Dearest Scout,

It saddens me that you are reading this note. Not because I am gone. I am an old lady and have had an amazing life. No, it saddens me because I will not be there to see you grow into the amazing woman I know you will be. It also saddens me because I know that in many ways, you are now alone. Your parents mean well. I hope you understand that. They do not know what I know.

A crash that sounded like a complete shelf of products fell, startling Scout and momentarily tearing her eyes from the letter. She could only imagine the mess left behind. Considering the number of curses, it was probably huge. On most days, she would have investigated more, but her mind quickly refocused on her grandmother's words.

"They do not know what I know."

What the heck does she mean by that?

I am sure you are wondering how I know what you see, feel, and understand are true. It is more than just me believing in you. It is more than a grandmother's love. It is because I am like you.

"What the fuck?" Scout was not one to talk to herself, much less talk out loud, and she blushed as she saw half the shop turning to face her. Okay, maybe she did occasionally talk to herself, but usually it was just a mumble within a mumble. It was never in such an overt, everyone-pay-attention-to-me way. She quickly folded up the letter and put it back in her bag. It was more than she could handle right now. She was wrong to think that this was the time and place to read something so important. This was most definitely not the place. Not with her grandmother either spewing this kind of craziness or sharing something Scout was sure should be kept secret, at least from the coffee lovers gathered here. Leaving her table a mess, she made a beeline for the door.

She almost made it out when a little boy in the corner of the room caught her eye. He was eating a muffin and it was not an ordinary one, either. It was huge, far bigger than any one person should attempt to eat in one sitting. She might go so far as to say it was family size. It would have been a cute, almost humorous, scene if it weren't for the fact that the child was glowing. Not that anyone else around would notice his glow. She appeared to be the only one lucky enough to possess that talent. Mumbling some choice words under her breath, she raced out of there like the place was on fire.

Why was this happening again? Why couldn't she be normal? Why now, when her grandmother was no longer here to confide in, did these strange things start happening again? It had been years since she had seen anyone glow. Not that all people glowed. Of course not—that would make her as crazy as people would think she was if she shared her sightings with them. Those that did glow, however, had always looked like they had a bright light fighting to get out of them. But this boy was different. Unlike the sightings of her youth, this boy glowed various colors, not just light. To say it freaked her out would be an understatement.

It was her childhood all over again, but without the light at the end of the tunnel—Grandma Nora. Scout remembered thinking that all people saw the glowing. One of her first memories was having her mother acting very cross with her at the park. She had wanted to go play with a little boy who was in the sandbox. Her mother asked her which little boy, and she simply replied the glowing one, while pointing his way.

"Don't be rude, dear," her mother had said.

Thankfully, it was a family day at the park, and Grandma Nora was there to explain to Scout that her mother thought she was describing his Asian descent and not his glow.

Running to her car, she got in and took out the letter. It did not matter that it was not the right time or place. It did not matter if she was alone, but not alone-alone. Clearly, it could not wait. Her life was in a spiral back towards the crazy, just as it was supposed to begin. How could this be happening again? She was about to start her new life as a college student and her childhood crazy was coming back. She could only hope the letter would contain more than comfort. That it would also contain answers. Right now, she needed her grandma. If only she could talk to her again, feel her hugs, ask her advice, and share a cuppa. Unfortunately, the letter would have to be enough.

Glancing to right where she left off, she began to read again. At this point, there was no doubt in her mind she would read and reread this letter over and over, so she might as well move ahead.

It is something I probably should have told you much earlier. You have to understand that I didn't tell you any of this because I wanted you to have a childhood. The tea was meant to help.

"The tea? Oh, Grandma, what have you done?" Scout spoke the questions aloud, even though she knew there was nobody there to answer. Her heart ached a wee bit more, even in the midst of her confusion, and momentary panic mixed with anger. The reference to tea had to be the cup of tea they'd shared each night before bed. Most kids her age seemed to avoid their relatives, but not her. Scout had been overjoyed when her grandmother moved in with them ten years ago. She loved being able to tell her about her day every night over tea. She looked down at her letter and noticed some smudges. How had she not realized that she was crying? Putting the letter on the seat beside her, she dug in her glove box for a napkin, which she used as a tissue to wipe away her tears. The more she cried, the harder they fell, until she gave up and let herself embrace her mourning. The letter lay beside her, momentarily forgotten.

*****

Want A Cuppa?

"Plenty of time. It will get done. Argggg... why do I do this to myself every stinkin' time?" Scout mumbled to herself as she threw yet another shirt onto the floor. Clothes seemed to be everywhere, except in her suitcase. She was leaving for college before daylight tomorrow morning, and here she was at eight pm with nothing packed.

"Are you on the phone?" Scout's mother, Grace, asked from the hallway.

"No, Mom. You know I'm not. I'm attempting to pack. Don't lecture me. I know I should have started last week," she replied with an exacerbated sigh. Her mother entered the room, and she did her best to control her chuckle, hiding it behind her hand. That lightened the mood, and Scout relaxed enough to let out a laugh, which in all honesty, was more of a snort.

***

Grace had, of course, seen Scout like this before. Numerous times, in fact. Waiting until the last minute to do anything that involved change and then going into panic mode when it did not go smoothly, which caused things to spiral out of control. Knowing her daughter found the humor in the situation as much as she did showed her just how much Scout had matured over the years and made her a little less anxious about her move halfway across the country. Not a lot less anxious, but some, and that was enough to lighten her mood. She was not looking forward to the conversation she felt was coming.

"Want some help? I'm a packing wiz with all the work travel I do. We can get this done in no time, and then we can enjoy a nice cuppa."

***

Scout's face immediately fell. Why had her grandma left her? She knew it was her time and all that crap people seemed to keep spouting at her. Yes, even her brain was turning into a potty-mouth factory. Not something that would have made her grandmother proud. Cuppa. Did she want a cuppa? Absolutely, but she wanted it with Grandma Nora, not with her sometimes, sort-of mom. No, that wasn't fair. She knew her mom had to work and that required travel. She was just being a negative nelly because she was—what was she? Sad, scared, angry, flustered, confused, excited, happy, anxious, lonely... Goodness gracious, she might actually be as crazy as everyone had once thought she was.

"Thanks, Mom. Not sure why you think I need help packing." She could not contain the chuckle that escaped her lips as she twirled around the room, showcasing the piles like a game show hostess. This was an ongoing joke in their family. For some reason, they found great humor in mimicking game show hostesses, especially when the items being "presented" were less than ideal. Like the huge mess before them.

"One day I'll learn my lesson and actually start things a half second before they need to be done." Scout laughed, knowing she wasn't fooling her mother or herself. This was how she always had, and probably always would do things. Somehow, they always got done, even if it included moments of stress and, in this case, comedy.

"No, you won't, but it's one of the things that make you who you are, so no worries. It's not like you will fail out of college if you don't have the right top or your curling iron."

"Stinks, I completely forgot about things like my curling iron. Good thing you are off this week."

"Anything forgotten can be shipped or repurchased. I say we make sure you have all your favorite jeans and tops, throw in a ton of unmentionables so you can skip washing day if a swinging party pops up, and one nice outfit. How does that sound?"

"Unmentionables? Really, Mom, you sound like Grandma Nora. Please tell me you said, "swinging" for the benefit of tension release and not because you are trapped in the past. The waaaaaay past. Are you even old enough to remember when people said that?"

Grace had a gleam of mischief in her eyes when she replied. "I can say swinging if I want. It's a fun word and got my meaning across. Should I have said wicked party since you are moving to "wicked" country? You do know that you are going to have to add that to your vocabulary, don't you? It is wicked important that you understand what the wicked cool people in your wicked sweet dorm are trying to tell you so you can have a wicked good time."

Scout could not see her mother's face because she said it as she was packing at super speed, but even without seeing her, Scout could hear a couple of times where it took all she had not to crack up again.

It boggled her mind how quickly her mom was able to organize and pack her clothes, in the middle of her one-woman comedy show. It was not like she was one of the divas from school who had more clothes than the mall, so in hindsight, it seemed silly that it had her so up in a tizzy. Leave it to her to make a mountain out of a molehill—another thing her grandmother used to say.

When the task was complete, her mom looked at her with understanding in her eyes. "You know, it's okay to miss her. I do, every day. I know she thought she was a burden living with us, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. I could leave on business and know you were in the best hands ever, and I also knew you and your father would never starve. No one could cook like my mom."

"How did you know I was thinking about her? Am I that transparent?"

"Only to me, sweet pea. Only to me. I knew you were thinking about her because I was too, and because you had that slight change in your eyes you get when you are sad."

"I miss her so much, Mom. Sometimes it hurts to breathe. I finally tried to read the letter earlier today, but I barely made it through the opening." There was no point telling her which letter. They both got one, and she was sure her mother read hers the second she was able to be alone. Her mom was never one for waiting. "She mentioned tea, and I lost it. Grandma Nora was always good for a cuppa. Maybe you were right, and we should grab one now. It's what we would have done if she were here."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll go put the kettle on while you throw all the clothes we didn't pack into the laundry basket." Grace looked at the pile of unpacked clothes and, for a quick moment, the intensity of her sorrow over not only losing her mother, but of having her daughter leaving, was evident on her face.

"I'll take care of them later. It will give me something to do other than miss you."

Tears welled in Scout's eyes. While she might not have had the closest relationship with her mom, they were close in their own way, and she loved her deeply. She knew the reverse was true, also. Her mom would be losing both her mother and her daughter in the same month. No, having a child go away to school was not the same as death, but it was still losing her "sweet pea," as her mom liked to call her.

Sitting at the small kitchen table that was now considered retro and cool, but was really just old and something her grandma refused to get rid of, even though it did not fit in with their granite countertops and stainless steel appliances, both Scout and her mom played with their tea bags.

"I know drinking tea from store-bought bags isn't the same, but Mom never taught me her recipe. I always meant to ask, but time got away from us. It's not too bad though, right?"

Scout immediately thought back to her mom's comment. The tea her grandmother had given to her since she moved in was minty in a way, but she was never able to isolate the flavors either. The tea caddy was empty within a week of Grandma Nora's passing. Partly because she found comfort in it and drank far more of it than normal, and partly because it was probably about time Grandma Nora would have made some more. She had promised to send a huge batch with Scout to college. Now she was going without tea and with an unbearable ache in her heart.

"Grandma Nora mentioned her tea in the letter she wrote, and I just about lost it. What was it with her and tea? Anyone and everyone who came by the house ended up with a great, big cuppa as she liked to say. Even when they tried to turn her down because they had somewhere to be or something to do, they somehow ended up at this table, laughing it up with Grandma Nora. Remember the day she had the package delivery guy here for an hour? I'm pretty sure he wasn't supposed to be spending his time like that, but she wasn't letting him go without his cuppa."

"According to her, he needed it, so that was that. She always did like her tea. I don't remember a time growing up when she didn't have a kettle on. She used to grow all the herbs for it, but started buying them from the store shortly before she moved here. What did she say in her letter?"

Scout looked at her mom. While her voice was steady and the question appeared to be just part of the flow of conversation, she could tell that she had more than a passing interest in the letter. She could see by the look in her eyes that she was almost scared of what was written in it, as if her mother would spill all of her secrets. Not that her mom had secrets. At least Scout didn't think she did. Grace seemed to be a very normal mom. She ran training schools for her company and traveled often, but other than that, she didn't stand out from the other moms. Scout never liked the way she had to pretend in front of her, but she had long ago come to accept the fact it would have been true in every family.

"I didn't get very far into it. I was sort of smudging it with my tears, so I figured I should put it way until I was ready." Deciding to change the subject, she added, "Where is Dad, anyway? I thought he would be home by now."

***

Grace knew that Scout was changing the subject, but what could she do? It was clear that Scout was not ready to share what was in the letter. She only hoped that it was more coherent than the one she had received. Her mother had clearly taken a left turn to crazyville before she died. The letter she read talked about Scout having sight like hers, unicorns, and all sorts of other things that made absolutely no sense to anyone not on LSD. She almost wondered if her mom was actually hallucinating from her medication at the end. The one thing that the letter very clearly stated was that she needed to be there for Scout and to believe anything she told her—no matter how nuts it sounded. It was a given that she would be there for her daughter, but it filled her with sadness that her mother felt she needed to make a point about that. While she may have entered crazyville, her mother had, in her sane years, always seemed to know things a wee bit before she should. Not exactly like premonitions, but still, she had seemed more prepared than she should have for little things. She always seemed to be on the way to the phone before it rang, and whenever they needed change for a pay phone, back in the day, she usually had the right amount just sitting in her pocket. Nothing big or obvious, just small things like that, but they seemed to happen quite a bit.

***

"Mom? Mom?" It was clear that her mom was not even close to paying attention to what was happening in the room.

"What?" her mom said, almost in a whisper, like she was only halfway in the present.

"Dad. Where is he?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm sorry. I got lost in my thoughts. It's late. I'm tired, and... Oh, your father should be home soon. He had an errand to run after work and had a conference call with clients in Cali, so he got out late from there. So yeah, he got out of work late and then went to run an errand. He should be home soon." Her mom seemed almost nervous as she rambled on with too much information. Clearly, it meant one thing... a present.

"Would this present happen to be coming from a store with a little fruit on its sign?" Scout's eyes sparkled as she thought about the computer that might be coming her way. She was nervous about her laptop making it the whole semester. The warranty just wore out and that usually meant that the item, whatever it was, was about to fall apart. It was like they had a self-destruct button set to go off the day after it expired. All serious thoughts were gone as she started to focus on her potential new gift.

"I never said... Damn, don't tell him I let the cat out of the bag. How did you know?"

They looked at each other and began laughing once again.

*****

One Last Thing

Looking around her room once more before they left, Scout made an internal inventory of the things she needed to bring with her. Suitcase of clothes—check. Laundry basket with toiletries, towels, and flip-flops—check. Brand-new laptop—check. Messenger bag with wallet—check. It looked like she had everything. So why did it feel like something was missing? The excitement of her new adventure as a college student made her less grumpy about the evil hour. No one should ever be up at four am... unless they were still up from a night of partying or studying.

She turned around and was startled by her father, Joshua, standing in the doorway with a huge cup of coffee in his hands. The man liked his coffee, and if he was going to be driving halfway across the country today, he probably needed a whole pot.

"Sorry, I didn't see you standing there. I was making sure I didn't forget anything. I'll just bring this out to the car, and we can go. I know you like to leave early so we miss all the commuter traffic. Wait, unless you want to finish your coffee? I can make breakfast. Then you can have coffee and food before we go. I'll just bring these outside first. I could even get that coffee in a travel mug, so you can bring what you don't finish. Oh, Mom will want her tea, so I can get that too. I think I want some tea, but maybe I'll have coffee today, since it's so dark and early. Yes, I think coffee it is."

The bemused look on his face let her know that she had once again gone off into her nervous habit of spouting nonsense. "Are you done? Because I just stopped by to see if you wanted help carrying things to the car. A bit nervous, I take it."

"That obvious? Of course it is... I either babble like a fool or mumble to myself when I am nervous. I could so never be a Texas Hold'em winner."

"Everyone is nervous their first day away from home, whether it is college, military, or a first apartment. Just remember to always be yourself, and things will work out just fine."

Always Be Yourself. She must have been better at fooling them than she thought. Scout had not been herself since she was eight. Okay, she was mostly herself on the outside, but she hid things from them, which had never made her one hundred percent at ease. Maybe she should tell them now. No, that wouldn't work. The last thing they would've wanted was to drop off their "crazy" daughter at college right after hearing that. They would probably think they were just silly childhood memories of when her imagination was wild. Unless she told them about the boy in the coffee shop, and then it would be full-on crazy. No, best to keep her mouth shut just as she promised Grandma Nora.

Her dad put his coffee on the dresser and grabbed the overly heavy laundry basket. "I will just run this out and come back in for the suitcase." He started to leave and turned around to look back at her, almost as if he were nervous about what was coming next.

"Ummm... so Mom told me you never finished reading your letter from Grandma Nora. I got the impression she was almost relieved by that, but I made your grandmother a promise. I know she was not my mom, but after living here so long and with my mom being gone, she sort of felt like mine. Anyway, I feel like I have to press this even though I know you probably stopped reading it for a reason. When the doctors told Grandma Nora her time was nearing, she gave me those letters to pass on to you and your mom when she was no longer with us. I promised to make sure you both read them. I guess this is my way of asking you to finish reading it."

Scout knew her father had an unusually close relationship with her grandmother, his mother-in-law, so it did not surprise her that she had confided in him and asked him to make sure her wishes were followed through. It also did not surprise her that he had waited this long to mention it. That was just his way.

Pausing, he glanced at her. By the look on his face, he seemed to be able to tell that reading it was something that would not be easy for her. She thought her pain was clearly evident on her face for him to see. He added, "I guess we know where you get your babbling tendencies from, don't we?"

"Both of you?" she tried to say in jest, but it had a sorrowful tone. Her dad winced as if her pain hurt him as well.

"Yes ma'am, you were doomed from the start. I'll be right back for the suitcase."

Left alone in her room with only her messenger bag left to bring to the car, Scout thought about what her dad had said. If her grandmother wanted, no needed, her to read it so badly that she asked her father to be her accomplice, it must be important. She could do this, and if she waited until she got to school, her roommate would probably walk in on her bawling and decide she was a "wicked" basket case. That was not the way to start what she hoped would be a great friendship.

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the letter. It was a bit wrinkly and tear-smudged, so she smoothed it out. Thinking it might help her ease back into it, she began from the top. She was going to do this. She was going to read the whole letter before she left.

~My Dearest Scout,

It saddens me that you are reading this note. Not because I am gone. I am an old lady and have had an amazing life. No, it saddens me because I will not be there to see you grow into the amazing woman I know you will be. It also saddens me because I know that in many ways, you are now alone. Your parents mean well. I hope you understand that. They do not know what I know.

I am sure you are wondering how I know what you see, feel, and understand are true. It is more than just me believing in you. It is more than a grandmother's love. It is because I am like you. It is something I probably should have told you much earlier. You have to understand I did it for a reason. I wanted you to have a childhood. The tea was meant to help.

So far so good. Nothing she hadn't read before. She could do this. Well, at least she hoped she could. It was only a letter after all and, at some point, she had to learn to control her emotions.

Okay, by now you probably think I am talking in riddles. You always say I need to stop my silly phrases and just mean what I say. Deep down, we both know you love my phrases, and I can see you saying them to your friends, so you can wipe that look off your face. Yes, I know you have it.

Busted from the grave. Only Grandma Nora could take a moment like this and add some levity to it.

First things first. I can't even begin to tell you everything I need to in a letter. There is just too much to say, and from what the doctor told me today, there is too little time to say it all. So I am doing the second best thing. I left my journal-type book. You will see what I mean. It is more of a history/recipe/story/memory/random thoughts-type book than it is a journal, but there you have it. Not being as organized as your mom, or anyone else I know for that matter, it is a chaotic mess and includes random papers shoved inside. I had this plan to redo it in one of those fancy, leather journals you showed me on the computer and to give it to you when the time was right. You know what happens when you make plans, life or, in my case, death happens. I probably should not have said, "Death happens," because I am guessing I made you cry. It is the truth though, and something I wish I had done more with you is tell you the truth. Not that I lied, but I surely did omit some pretty important things. Okay, you are right, that is lying, but... you will see. Trust me on this. I am probably not making any sense. Babbling on like a silly old woman.

How did she do that? It was like her grandma could see inside her mind as she wrote the letter and, true to her words, Scout was crying. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her father calling to her mother, asking if she had anything that needed to go in the car. She knew she had to hurry if she was going to get this done, and she had to find that journal. If she had left it to her, why did she not already have it? She imagined she was going to have some big-time questions for her parents when she finished the letter. Maybe that was why her mom was so weird about it. Maybe she didn't want her to have the journal yet? Going back to the letter, many of her questions were quickly answered while many more appeared.

You know as well as I do that your mother likes things to be "normal" and "organized," and since the journal I am leaving to you is neither of those things, I hid it for you to get when you read this note. Do not panic if they already cleared out my things. I bet your mom was right on that. Not because she does not love or miss me, but because she feels better accomplishing things and having that done would help her cope with me being gone.

That was true. How did her grandmother know so much? Maybe it was in the journal. She had to get it, though not really to figure out what all this rambling was about. Chances were that she was doing what Scout always did when she was nervous, and was just babbling on and on. No, she needed that journal to have something of her grandmother's with her at college, so she would not feel so all alone. Even as she thought it, Scout knew that sounded pathetic, but she couldn't help it. Thoughts were thoughts, and they were uncontrollable.

I hid a box with the journal, a stash of tea so you can have a cuppa if you so choose, and some random odds and ends I thought you might like. It is in your closet, behind/under your bookshelf in the little space beneath the last shelf, but before the floor. I actually put it in the backpack you hide there. Now, don't be embarrassed. I did not look at anything else you have back there, and you should definitely not be blushing because you kept the backpack. It was from a time in your life when you were happiest. I can see you clearly in my mind, wandering around the park with that little pink backpack with the unicorns on it, putting magic stones and twigs in them as you found them. See, I am babbling again. Go get the box. I hope it helps in ways I currently can't. Oh, and do yourself a favor. Do not let your mother see it. She is all sorts of... well, you know. She would not like it. When the time is right, you can share whatever you want, but wait until you read it all. I know I sound cryptic, but you will understand why later.

I know I have never told you this before. In fact, I have told you the opposite more than once, but please forget all that, and listen to what I am telling you now. ALWAYS BE YOURSELF. I may be old, but I learned a thing or two from you with that texting, and I know that those caps signify I mean what I say. Or do they mean I am yelling at you? Oh, I forget, but I mean what I say. Be yourself. You may not need to share all the facts all the time, but do not pretend to be someone you are not anymore. It is not fair to you, and it certainly is not fair to the people you meet. They need to know the amazing person you are. The world is better for having you in it.

I love you, Elenore Scout and, even though I know I am in a good place, I am sure I miss you every day. How could I not? You are my shining light.

Love,

Grandma Nora

Without giving the letter even a moment to sink in, she ran to the closet, pushed the pile of shoes to the side, and slid the bookcase out just a wee bit. She knew it was odd to have a bookshelf in the closet, but her closet was huge and, as a child, she left her books in a very disorganized mess, so her mom thought it would be best to keep it there so her room would at least appear clean. One day, when her favorite unicorn book fell behind it, she discovered what her mother had truly given her. The perfect hiding spot to keep her treasures. She might not be able to talk about things, but that didn't mean they had to disappear. It had been years since she had added anything to her treasure trove. She had actually almost forgotten about it. Come to think of it, how did her grandmother even know about it? Surely, her parents did not, or everything would have been long gone. Well, that was a mystery for another day. Today, she had to get the bag and take it to the car without her parents suspecting anything.

Grabbing behind the shelf, she found the bag immediately. At the time she wore it, it seemed so huge and grown up. Well, as grown up as unicorns could seem. Now looking at it, she saw it was only the size of those mini-backpack purses that were all the rage for a wee bit. She quickly unzipped it and felt inside. Sure enough, there was what felt like a tea caddy and her old treasures. Rocks mostly. She always liked rocks, but in her childhood, these rocks were special. They glowed. She really had quite an imagination back then. Maybe she could tap into it again and take a writing class or two. Writing had to be more fun than the History of the Basque, which, believe it or not, was one of the class offerings they tried to talk her into enrolling in. No thank you. She would leave that for the historians. Instead, she signed up for US History, which was mandatory. If she was going to be bored, she might as well do it with something that was unavoidable.

Scout was pulled out of her ponderings by her father calling and letting her know they were ready when she was. Somehow she had missed the fact that he had already gotten her suitcase. She hurried to her bed, folded up the letter, and put both it and the backpack in her messenger bag. It was now overflowing, but she didn't expect her parents to think twice about it since she was leaving for months. Of course she would have a ton. One last look around the room, and she was off. Only twelve hours plus stops until she reached her final destination—New Hampshire. Home of everything wicked and soon to be home to her.

"Sweet Pea, we are almost there. Time to wake up." Her mother's voice pulled her from her dreams. Apparently, even the excitement of knowing she was going to be moving into her dorm, and meeting her roommates, was not enough to keep Scout awake for the whole twelve-hour ride. They were still three hours away last she knew. Whoops. Scout stretched her arms and looked out the window as they came to a stop at the traffic light.

To her left, Scout saw an eclectic-looking building that had a huge sign with a B to the third power on it. That made her inner geek smile. Upon further perusal, she realized what the three Bs stood for—Books, Brews, and Beers. She had seen a bookstore/coffee shop combo before, but never a place with coffee, books, and a bar. She was beginning to like this town already. Not that she drank, but any town that thought books were cool enough to be in a bar, was A-OK in her book.

The light had already turned green, but there was a very elderly, very slow lady making her way across the street. That would never fly in Michigan, but here, no one seemed to be bothered by it. As she watched her, the woman made eye contact and then turned her head back towards the bookstore with a wink. Scout was sure she had seen incorrectly, but turned her head towards the "bookstore of fun," as she now referred to it in her head, and saw a new sandwich board with three people standing next to it. Not any three people, but three glowing people. Three glowing and beyond colorful people.

On the sign, she read—Scouting for new help. Apply in person.

What the heck? There was no way she read that correctly. It had to be a coincidence. Just then, the car started to move. She found herself turning her head to see what was on the other side.

It read—Yes, we mean you.

The old lady, who should have been on the other side of the road, was now standing next to the three very colorful people, as they gave her a nod, a smile, and a small wave. She stared at them while the car continued down the street. Just as they were about out of sight, she saw the old lady start to glow.
Scout's adventures truly begin in Unless You Can Be A Unicorn, set to be released late 2014.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Delphina, mother of four and reading enthusiast, attended the first UtopYA in 2012 and it truly was a life changing event. Not only did she meet amazing people and have a great time, but it sparked an idea. Unless You Can Be A Unicorn, was that idea. When not glued to her ereader, Delphina can be found on FB, Twitter, and her blog.

Visit her at www.facebook.com/DelphinaHenley or on Twitter @DelphinaReads

# Touch of Love

## A new adult contemporary romance by E.L. Todd

Scarlet

I can't tell you how happy I am to be here. No, really. It was everything I imagined and hoped it would be. I hadn't been to the campus once, but I knew I wanted to be at that university nonetheless. I didn't need to see the brick walls of the historic buildings or the elegantly designed campus that conveyed decades of legacy and achievement. Anything was better than where I was before.

I was a freshman at Harvard, and I still couldn't believe I was there. I knew I was smart, but I didn't think I was that smart. I asked my brother to read the acceptance letter just to make sure.

"Scar, it says you got in."

"Are you sure?"

He rolled his eyes. "Maybe we should reconsider this Harvard thing. You're pretty dumb."

"Ryan?" My voice contained my serious tone. My heart was racing in my chest. My brother wouldn't lie to me. I needed to hear him say it. If he did, it would make it real.

He handed the letter back. "You got in."

I almost fainted.

He helped me move into my dorm room, carrying everything I owned—which wasn't a lot. It was a tearful goodbye. I hated being on the other side of country, away from the only family I had left.

"I love you so much," I said as I hugged him.

"I love you too, Scar." He returned my embrace and held me tight. My brother was my best friend—everything to me. I knew he felt the same way.

"I don't know if I belong here," I whispered.

He pulled away. "Look at me."

I wiped my tears away and stared him in the eye.

"You're right. You don't belong here. You're meant to be here. You'll do great. I know you will."

"Are you sure? You're always telling me how stupid I am."

"Because you are."

"Now you're just confusing me."

He kissed me on the forehead. "Just do it. I have my faith in you. You were accepted to this university because they believe you will succeed. You wouldn't be here, beat out thousands of applicants, if you weren't capable of it."

"Okay," I said with a nod, feeling more assured.

He walked toward the door. "You can call me for anything—anything."

"I know."

"I'll see you for Thanksgiving?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Now get settled."

The door opened and Theresa walked in. She stopped and looked my brother up and down. "Hello, handsome."

His cheeks blushed. "Hey. I'm Scarlet's brother."

"And it's nice to meet you."

He nodded. "You too. Be nice to my little sister. She's really annoying and bratty, but when you look past all that, she's really not that bad."

"Thanks," I said sarcastically.

"I had to warn her," he said with a smile. "See you later."

"Bye," Theresa said with a wave of her hand.

Ryan left and shut the door.

"So, what's his story?" Theresa asked immediately, twirling her hair and batting her eyelashes.

"He lives in Seattle," I said quickly.

"Oh. So no story?"

"Yeah."

"Oh well." She walked to the mirror and fixed her hair and makeup. She was already beautiful so I didn't know what she needed to check. I guess knowing you were beautiful all the time was a confidence booster. She just liked to look at herself. "You ready for school tomorrow?"

"Absolutely not."

"Why are you nervous?"

"I'm always nervous."

I looked at myself in the mirror and compared myself to Theresa. We were the same size, but my breasts were bigger than hers. I was always a little self-conscious of their size. I tried to make them looker smaller whenever possible. They weren't huge, but they were noticeable. I had more curves than her, but I wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

"Let's go down to the hall," she said.

"Sure."

"We'll meet some other English majors."

"I could use some friends." Theresa and I just met, but she and I got along pretty well. She was very blunt and direct, saying exactly what she wanted and when she wanted it. She was the ying to my yang. I don't where she got all that confidence from.

We left the dorm room then headed to main mess hall. A lot of students were already there, sitting at the tables or in the chairs dispersed throughout the room. It reminded me of a quiet coffee shop. It was dark, very minimal light flittered through the room. The walls were painted brown, and the furniture was also a dark wood. There was a large red rug on the floor.

We ordered a few coffees before we sat down at a table. I didn't see anyone that I recognized, but then again, no one I knew from high school got into Harvard. It was still surreal. I still couldn't believe it. When I looked around at everyone, I could tell there were a wide variety of people that made up the student body, even international people. Everyone had a different sense of style. I was just wearing jeans and a t-shirt, being incredibly casual.

Theresa sipped her coffee and looked around the room. "See anyone you like?"

"Excuse me?"

"Any boys you like?"

I wasn't searching, concentrating on my coffee. I scanned the room and took a look. My eyes stopped when I saw someone that I did like. He had brown hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. He was sitting down, but I could tell by the length of his legs that he was tall. His muscled chest and arms showed his physique. He was big, but not too large and bulky. There was an aura of confidence about him that was borderline arrogance. I don't know what caught my eye but something did. He was incredibly handsome, one of the best looking guys I've ever seen. I wanted to keep the treasure to myself so I didn't mention him to Theresa. If she agreed that he was attractive, she would sweep him of his feet. And I had no chance of competing. "Nope."

"No one?"

I took a drink of my coffee. "I'll see someone I like in class."

"I'm sure."

A man came over and sat next to Theresa. "Freshman?"

She smiled. "What gave me away?"

"You look lost."

"Good thing you saved me."

I rolled my eyes. She said the cheesiest stuff sometimes. Initially, I thought she was a flirt, but now I just thought she was a slut.

"So, what's your name?" he asked.

"Theresa. What's yours?"

"Scott."

The guy didn't look at me once so I knew I was practically invisible to him. It was high school all over again. Theresa seemed to like the guy, so I decided to take my leave and blend into the shadows. Without saying goodbye, I stood up and walked to the coffee counter. I ordered some nutty latte and it wasn't suitable to me. Instead, I decided to order two sandwiches, a bag of chips, and a tea. I like food and I'm not ashamed to admit it. When I glanced back at Theresa, she didn't seem to notice my absence. I snuck a glance at the man I had my eye on. He was talking to a group of friends as he leaned back in his chair. I turned back to the counter and waited for my order to finish.

~**~

Sean

My parents were pretty teary-eyed when they dropped me off, but I wasn't sure why. My brother, Mike, already left for college so they had been through this process before. I gave my mom a long hug to make her feel better. That seemed to stifle her tears.

My dad clapped me on the shoulder. "Enjoy your wild years. They run out quick."

I winked at him. "Oh I will."

"And do well in school," my mom said.

"Oh yeah. I forgot about that," I said with a smile.

Now I was sitting in the mess hall with a few friends from the private high school I attended last year. They were pretentious douches, but I guess I was too. My parents wanted me to take over the company after I finished my masters, but I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to. I wanted to make my own money and stand on my own two feet. I was given everything in life, never earning anything. I didn't think I was really a man because of that. I had to change that, prove myself.

"Their business program is the best in the country," Richie said. "That's why I'm here."

"Yeah. I just want the flashy diploma," Roger said. "What about you, Sean?"

I shrugged. "My parents made me."

They laughed. "What's it like to be a billionaire?"

"It's alright," I said with a laugh.

Roger looked across the room, his eyes widening. "We got another one."

I knew what that meant. There was another hot chick nearby. He did that every five to ten minutes. The girls were alright, nothing too exciting. I wanted to bide my time until I found someone really worth fucking.

"She's got a nice rack," Richie said. "It's hotter that she's trying to hide them."

My interest piqued, I turned and looked. She had long brown hair that reached the middle of her back. She was small with a petite frame. She was short but not too short, less than a foot shorter than me. This girl had the right curves in the right places. Even from the side, I could see the curve of her tits. They were round and firm, perky and eye-catching. They were proportional to the rest of her body. Her ass was just as noteworthy. She was wearing jeans and a shirt that had the school logo on it. Even in the casual clothes, still looked sexy.

"Turn around," I whispered under my breath, wanting to see her face. "Come on, come on." She stayed at the counter, picking up two packaged sandwiches and a bag of chips before placing them in her purse. Unless she was splitting that with someone, she liked to eat. I liked women who ate like normal people, none of that anorexic shit. She finally turned her face to look in her purse, and she grabbed her wallet. My mouth dropped.

Her eyes were blue like mine, shining like the ocean. Her cheekbones were high and prominent, giving a nice curve to her face. Her lips were thin and kissable, a slight sheen glowing in the light. A small number of freckles could be seen on her skin. She wasn't wearing makeup. That was even hotter. She was a natural beauty, perfect in every way. It took a lot to impress me since I've been with so many women, but I was definitely impressed by her. My cock sprang to life and twitched.

"You like?" Richie said with nod.

I looked at him. "She's a dime."

"I wonder if she's a freshman," Roger said.

"She's not even wearing makeup," I said. "I love that."

"Yeah," Roger said. "I hate it when girls pile on that shit. It's annoying. If they look ugly with makeup, imagine how ugly they are without makeup."

"Good point," I said with a laugh.

When I looked back at her, she was gone. My heart raced in alarm. My head scanned the room, searching for her. "Where'd she go?" I said as I sat forward.

Richie shrugged. "I don't know. She must have left. Why? You're going to go for it?"

"Fuck yeah. Did you see her? I need to scoop her up before someone else does."

"Good luck with that," Roger said. "She's out of your league."

I stood up and walked across the room. I scanned the tables casually, looking for the girl with the college t-shirt and the jeans. Her brown hair was soft and silky, shining with a slight wave. Every girl I looked at paled in comparison to her beauty.

"Looking for someone?"

"Huh?" I asked as I looked around.

"Maybe I can help," she said with a smile. She had blond hair, blue eyes, and a smokin' body. If I wasn't on a mission I might talk to her.

"No, but thanks."

"Well, you look a little flustered."

I decided to give it a shot. "Did you see the girl standing at the counter? She was wearing a college t-shirt and jeans. Long brown hair, white, attractive."

She shook her head. "I don't know anyone by that description. But some girl just walked out the back exit."

"Thank you," I said as I walked the opposite way.

"I'm Theresa," she yelled as I left.

I ignored her and burst through the doors. The campus was dark. Leaves had already fallen from the trees even though it was early fall. No one was around. I felt completely alone. My first thought was to head to the dorms, but that girl told me to head this way. The theatre building was to my left, but I couldn't imagine her heading there. All the buildings were locked. I walked around for a while, searching for the beautiful woman that caught my eye the second I saw her. I immediately had the desire to run my fingers through her hair and taste her skin. Most of the time I just wanted to sleep with women, but I had the strong urge just to look at her face again. It was so perfect, it was painful. I had to look at her again.

I couldn't find her after I searched for an hour. I hoped I would see her when school started. Maybe I would have a class with her or see her in the hallway, at a party, or in the dorm hallway. I would keep an eye out for her.

"You look lost—still."

I turned around. "Are you following me?"

"Are you Sean Prescott?"

"How'd you know?"

"I recognize your picture. From Prescott Technology." I hated being recognized for my success, but when I wanted to get laid it always helped. Women's ovaries screamed when they knew I was from money. Coupled with my looks, my smarts, and my body, I had my pick of the litter. "Yep. That's me."

"Well, that's impressive."

"Not really. I was born into it."

"It's still impressive."

"If you say so."

"So, what's your dorm room look like?"

I've been with slutty girls, but this girl was the queen of whores. "You wanna see it? It looks like all the other ones."

"I'll be the judge of that."

I looked around the empty campus once more, realizing I wasn't going to find the girl I really wanted. She disappeared from the face of the earth, taking her big dinner somewhere. After seeing her gorgeous face and body, I was horny. I may as well get laid. "I would love to give you a tour."
~**~

Scarlet

The first day of school was intimidating. Basically, my professors were geniuses and gods to their own classroom. I was just a single person in the expanse of the ocean, easily getting lost in the noise. It was hard to be noticed in a class of over one-hundred students, especially when the TA was the one who graded my papers and exams. My professors pretty much did nothing. That was discouraging. I searched for the guy that caught my eye but didn't see him. Perhaps I would see him again, and when I wasn't dressed so casually. Today I wore skinny jeans, a nice blouse, and dress boots. My hair was curled but I still didn't wear makeup. I just didn't like it. That was something I wouldn't change for anyone.

Theresa didn't come back to the dorm last night. I assumed she hooked up with that guy. If that was the case, then I was shocked how easy she was. I had a few friends in high school who were on the slutty side, but this was still surprising to me. Now I wished I had been arranged with a better roommate. She would probably be screwing guys at the apartment all the time.

When I had a break from class, I took my novel and sat outside under the tree. My favorite thing about college was the feel of independence. In high school, if you were ever alone you were dubbed a loser. In college, you were pinned as an introvert, intelligent, strong, quiet. It was a relief. I preferred the company of books over people most of the time, except when I was watching sports. Sports were never fun to watch alone.

I didn't see Theresa much during the week. She didn't come back to the dorm very often, and when she did, she wasn't there for very long. Eventually I did run into her at the room.

"So, you hit it off with that guy at the cafeteria?" I asked as she touched up her makeup in the mirror.

"No, I got bored with him really quick. I found someone better."

"Better how?"

"He's cute, great in bed, and comes from money. I'm here to get my Mrs. degree, not actual learn anything."

I was starting to dislike Theresa real quick. I guess you could call me a feminist, but I believed all women should be independent and strong, not rely on a man for anything. "So you're just interested in him for the money?"

"Why is anyone interested in anyone?"

"Because you actually like them?"

"Whatever. He agreed to be my boyfriend so that's that."

"How romantic," I said sarcastically.

"A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta go."

"If you got into Harvard, you must be smart."

"I had someone take the SAT's for me."

My mouth dropped. "That's horrible."

"Yeah," she said with a shrug. "Like I said, I'm only here to get a husband."

"Poor guy."

"Excuse me?"

I looked her straight in the eye. "I said 'poor guy'."

She rolled her eyes and continued to apply her makeup. She left the dorm room again and disappeared. I didn't see her much after that, which I was grateful for. She was definitely someone I couldn't stand. I decided not to rat her out to the admissions board because I didn't have any proof that she actually cheated, so I just let it go.

On Tuesday night, I was trying to study in my room when my neighbor turned on their stereo, blaring it really loud. I thought they would turn it off within an hour but they never did. Frustrated and too nice tell them off, I fled to the library.

"Theresa?" I asked in surprise when I saw her sitting at a table, books scattered around her.

"Yeah?" she asked with a smile.

"What are you doing?" I asked suspiciously.

"Studying."

I looked at the textbooks, not recognizing any of them. "Did you change your major?"

"Business," she answered.

"That was random."

"Sean's a business major. Now I spend more time with him."

"Sean?"

"My boyfriend."

"Oh. How's that going?" I was hoping the guy was a jerk so he got what he deserved, or he was smart enough to see through this girl's lies and get out of the twisted relationship. Perhaps he was just blind by her beauty. I couldn't think of a better explanation.

"Good. The sex is good."

That was too much information but I didn't comment on it.

"There he is," she said with a smile, looking past me.

I turned around and saw him approach the table. His eyes widened when he looked at me, but I wasn't sure why. It was like he recognized me. It was the guy I was staring at across the room weeks ago, the man that I thought was ridiculously handsome. Maybe he saw me staring at him? I was pretty sure I was discreet about it.

He stopped when he reached me.

"This is my boyfriend," she said as she hooked her arm through his. "He's pretty, huh?"

I was speechless, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

"Sean, this is my best friend, Scarlet."

"Your best friend?" he said quickly.

"Yep."

I thought that was more than a stretch, but I let it go. "Uh, it's nice to meet you." I extended my hand.

He looked disoriented as he shook mine, his hand gripping mine longer than necessary. He had a pained look on his face, like I was hurting him. I quickly pulled away.

Theresa pulled him into the chair next to her. "Join us, Scarlet."

"It's okay. I don't want to intrude."

"Sit," she commanded. "Friends can study together, right?"

"Yeah," I said as I lowered myself into the chair.

Sean pulled out his belongings, eyeing me every few seconds. I wasn't sure how I felt about the look.

Theresa blatantly had no interest in studying. Her hand was practically on his crotch, jerking him off, while she kissed his neck every few seconds. Sean moved like he was uncomfortable but didn't verbally tell her to stop.

I was uncomfortable but I didn't say anything. The first guy that I was actually attracted to turned out to be a sex-crazy idiot that was more interested in outer beauty than the true beauty underneath. I was hoping he was a good guy, deep and mysterious, but he was obviously nothing like that. He was either with her just for the sex, or he was a total idiot. In either case, he wasn't right for me.

"Scarlet, what's your major?"

The sound of Sean saying my name made my skin prickle. I wasn't sure why. "English," I answered.

"Cool. What do you want to do with that?"

"What everyone wants to do."

"What's that?"

"I have no idea."

He laughed loudly, a smile spreading across his face. "At least you're honest about it."

"I'll figure it out eventually."

"I'm sure you will. So you're a fan of the classics?"

"Each and every one."

"What's your favorite?"

"That's a personal question."

He smiled. "It is?"

"That's like asking me when I lost my virginity."

He laughed again. "Okay. I'll go first. My favorite work of literature is Henry V."

I raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"That's surprising?"

"I guess." I wasn't expecting a business major to have any respect for the written world. I thought they just understood numbers and percentages.

"So what's yours?"

I was quiet for a long time. "That's impossible to narrow down. There's no such thing as a favorite book."

"So I gave the wrong answer?"

"You didn't give an answer an English major would, so yes, it was the wrong answer."

He laughed again. "So what's the right answer?"

"All of them."

"Even Animal Farm?"

"You didn't like that?" I asked, shocked.

"Who did? It's creepy."

"How is it creepy?"

"When the pigs started walking on their hind legs, I shut the book. I couldn't handle the rest."

"But that's the best part!"

"To a horror fan, maybe."

"Well, I do like Stephen King."

"And what's your favorite novel by him? Or is that a trick question too?" he said with a smile.

"Carrie, obviously."

"I liked Cujo better."

"You read all of his books?"

"Why is that surprising?"

I shrugged. "You're a business major."

"Are business majors best known for their inability to read?" he said sarcastically.

"I just thought they preferred counting their money."

"Not all business majors care about money."

Theresa had been bored until this point. "Sean's rich."

"So I heard," I said as I looked down.

Sean's eyes lost their light. "My family is rich—I'm not."

"So you're taking over the business?"

"No. I want to start my own living."

"What?" Theresa asked, alarmed. "You're joking, right?"

Sean ignored her. "Scarlet, I'm not a money-hungry entrepreneur."

"I never said you were."

"You implied it."

"Then I misspoke." I turned the page of my book then followed the words with a highlighter.

"Let's go back to your room," Theresa said.

Sean ignored her. "What else do you like to do?"

I wasn't sure why he was being so attentive to me. Perhaps he was trying to butter me up since he thought I was Theresa's best friend. "I follow basketball, baseball, and football. I have too many jerseys to count."

"What's your favorite baseball team?"

"The Mariners."

"Cool. I'm a fan too."

"Are you from Washington?"

"New York."

"You aren't a Yankee fan?"

"I am, but I like other teams too. It's makes bets more fun."

"The mariners are playing the Yankees tomorrow. Wanna make it interesting?"

He smiled. "I would."

"How about twenty bucks?"

"How about dinner and a movie?"

"What?" I asked.

"He means a double date," Theresa said quickly.

He glanced at her then looked back at me. "Or a friendly get-together."

"I don't have a boyfriend, so I don't have anyone to bring along."

"Sean could set you up with a friend."

Sean looked uncomfortable.

"I can get my own dates, but thanks," I said quickly, slightly offended.

"Yeah okay," Theresa said as she flipped her hair. "You spend all your time alone, and I haven't seen you talk to a single guy."

"My romantic life is really none of your business," I snapped. "I don't need boyfriend to make me feel better."

Theresa looked at Sean. "Don't set her up with your friends. You can tell she hasn't given up her V-card. She's practically a nun."

"And what's bad about that?" Sean said.

I looked at him, surprised by the unexpected defense.

"Well, college is going to be pretty boring, then," Theresa said. "And finding a husband will be impossible."

"I don't need a husband," I said quickly. I grabbed my things and stuffed them into my bag. "I'm going somewhere quiet." I stormed off and moved to a table in the corner. I kept my back to them so I wouldn't be distracted. After I opened my books, I started to concentrate.

"Hey, I'm sorry if I offended you," Sean said as he sat across from me.

"I'm fine. I don't mean to be rude but please go away. I actually have to pay for my tuition."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," I said as I looked at my textbook.

"I just wanted to say I was sorry."

I looked at him. "Sorry for what? What did you do?"

He seemed speechless for a second. "I don't think you need help getting dates, and I didn't mean to overstep my boundary. I want to be your friend."

I shook my head. "You don't need to butter me up, Sean. You can date Theresa. She doesn't need my approval for the guys she sleeps with."

He leaned back. "I just don't want to offend her best friend."

I wasn't her best friend—nowhere near it, but I wasn't going to argue about it. That would just make him talk more. "Go be with your girlfriend."

"Have you dated one of her ex-boyfriends?"

"What?"

"Like, have you dated someone she's been involved with? Is that normal for you two?"

I had no idea what the hell he was talking about. "No, I've never dated someone she's been involved with, and neither has she dated one of my ex's."

He nodded, but his face had a saddened expression. "So you don't double dip?"

"What are you asking me, Sean?"

He ran his fingers through his hair then sighed. "Are we still on for tomorrow?"

"I can't follow your thoughts."

"The Mariner game? Let's get some pizza and wings and the loser pays for dinner."

That sounded like a pretty good trade. There was no doubt in my mind that the Mariners would win. "I'll take that bet."

He smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See ya."

He stared at me for a moment before he rose from his seat then left my table. I looked down at my book and picked up where I left off, trying to get some work done.

~**~

Sean

I was so angry I could punch a wall. Scarlet was Theresa's best friend and now she was totally off limits. Girls were weird about dating each other's ex's, and Scarlet made it clear she felt the same way. This was so fucking shitty. I didn't even like Theresa. After I fucked her the first time, I realized how good in bed she was, so I kept her around until I got tired of her. I never expected her and Scarlet to be friends. They were so different.

Scarlet was cool. She was witty, smart, and beautiful. She actually liked sports. When I asked Theresa if she followed sports, she told me she only watched the swimming section of the summer Olympics because the guys wore speedos. And not to be mean, but she was pretty stupid. It surprised me she was accepted at Harvard. It almost didn't make any sense. Scarlet on the hand, was sharp as hell. One conversation with her told me everything I needed to know.

The next day, I met her downtown at the bar. She was already there, standing by the window. She was watching the screen as the beginning of the game aired.

"Hey," I said with a smile.

"Hi." She looked around. "Where's Theresa?"

"She couldn't come."

"Was she with you? She hasn't been back to the dorm all day."

I shrugged. "I haven't seen her."

She eyed me suspiciously then walked to a table. I sat beside her and got a wiff of her hair. It reminded me of spring flowers after a long rain. Her hair ran down her back. When the light hit it in the right way, it had a tint of red to it.

"Have you dyed your hair before?" I blurted.

"No. Why?"

"No reason. You want a beer?"

"You're old enough to drink?"

"I have my brother's old license."

"It's not worth getting in trouble."

"They won't even card me. I look older than I really am."

"Someone is arrogant."

"I'm confident," I said with a smile.

The waitress came over and I ordered the hot wings and two beers. The waitress didn't card me and walked away. I looked back at Scarlet. "You're lucky we didn't make a bet on that."

"She's probably just too lazy."

She returned with the beers and placed them in front of us.

Scarlet drank half of hers immediately.

I was impressed. "You like it?"

"I love beer."

"Really?"

"Why is that surprising?"

I shrugged. "Girls usually only like fruity drinks."

"I don't. They are too sweet."

I turned to the television and watched the game. She yelled at the TV, blurting profanities when the referee didn't make the right call. I smiled at her, enjoying her enthusiasm. She was definitely a cool chick.

"So you aren't seeing anyone?" I asked.

"Why are you asking?"

"We're friends, right?"

"No, I'm not."

"Are you a virgin?"

"That got personal real quick."

"Let me go first. I grew up in New York and Connecticut. I lost my virginity when I was fifteen. My family wants me to take over the business, but I want to start my own career. I feel like you aren't really a man until you find your own way, stand on your own two feet. I've never been in love. I have more sexual partners than I can count. I love sports more than food, but I love food more than sex. I love my friends and my family more than anything. I can be a jerk, but I would die for anyone that I cared about."

"That was a nice biography."

"Now will you do me the honor of telling me about yourself?"

"I lost my virginity when I was eighteen. My best friend is my older brother, Ryan, who lives in Seattle. My favorite author is Shakespeare. I eat everything and anything, not caring how much I weigh according to a scale. I don't have any friends here at Harvard and I feel pretty lonely. I've always been quiet and introverted, choosing to hide behind a book than stand in front of a group of people. I'm a tomboy because my brother raised me to be one."

"I thought Theresa was your friend?"

She shrugged. "I guess."

"I can be your friend."

"You want to be my friend?"

"Why not? You're a cool chick."

"Well, you aren't really my type."

"How do you mean?"

"I don't know. I've never had a guy friend before—one that was totally platonic."

I didn't want to be platonic with her, but I didn't know how to get around that. I could tell I already ruined any chance I had with this perfect girl. And If I went for her while I still had a girlfriend, I knew it would just make me look worse. I wondered what would have happened if Theresa hadn't thrown herself at me that night. Would I be with Scarlet? Since she was so awesome, I decided settling as her friend would be better than losing the opportunity to know her altogether. "I can be that platonic friend."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'm a really good friend. I have references."

"My brother says I'm an annoying brat. I'm not sure if you want to be friends with me."

"You want to know a secret?"

"Hmm?"

"I don't have any friends either."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"I have friends, but none that are good friends. I can't tell anyone what I'm really thinking or feeling. Those types of friends are hard to come by. I could use someone."

"So we need each other?"

"I think it's a symbiotic relationship."

"Apparently."

I stuck out my hand. "Friends?"

She smiled then took my hand. "Friends."

I was sad that I lost an amazing girl to my own stupidity, but it was better than losing her completely. She was beautiful and sexy, too smart for her own good, and she had a bit of an attitude. I liked it.

To my dismay, my team lost. I wasn't upset that I had to pay for the meal. I would have paid for it anyway, but I was sad to face the music. My new best friend knew more about sports than I did.

As the weeks went by, I spent more time with Scarlet. I eventually confided everything to her, making her my new best friend. Theresa and I didn't last because I couldn't stand her after a while. I wasn't sure why Scarlet was friends with her. They were so different. As the dream of being with Scarlet started to drift away, and I knew she was too good for me, I started to get over her and really see her as a friend. I started seeing other girls and told Scarlet about every encounter. She never judged my asshole tendencies, but I knew it wasn't a lifestyle she approve of.

Scarlet was refined and elegant, spending time with people that she actually wanted to be around. She was too smart for her own good. I became so attached to her that I couldn't imagine being without her in any context.

I was in the accelerated program at Harvard, on track to complete my bachelors and masters degree in five years. Scarlet finished her degree in four years then stuck around, still working on campus and juggling other jobs. When I graduated, I told her to move to New York with me and she agreed. She and I became a two person set. Where she went, I went.

Our relationship was still platonic. I could tell Scarlet never wanted me in a sexual way. I didn't think she was even attracted to me. That bothered me for some reason, but I let it go. I treated her like a friend even though I was still attracted to her. Little did I know that everything would change very soon.
Read the rest of Scarlet's story in Only For You by E.L.Todd

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Amazon Bestselling author, E. L. Todd, was raised in sunny California where she still lives today, claiming it's the best place in the country. Easily hypothermic and hateful of the cold, she prefers to be warm all year round. She attended California State University, Stanislaus and received her bachelor's degree in biological sciences, but still pursued her dream to be a writer.

You visit her at www.eltoddbooks.com

Follow her on Twitter @E_L_Todd42

# Struck in the Club

## A new adult paranormal romance by Kelly Risser

Mirage. The neon sign announced the dance club's name to all who passed by. Humans had such ridiculous labels for things. What inspired this one? There was nothing mirage-like about the low, plain brick building. The windows and doors, shaded black, made it nearly impossible to see what was going on inside. Muted lights in red, blue, green and yellow flashed behind the tint, and loud, pulsing music escaped whenever the door opened. It was a preview of the sensory overload awaiting the eager teenagers who stood in line. Kieran rubbed his temples, sensing the migraine building at the nape of his neck. He rolled his shoulders to work out the tension while he waited. How anyone could see this assaultive environment as a means of entertainment was beyond his comprehension. And yet, she would be here tonight. That was enough for him.

If only he could get his companions to see things his way. Farren, Liam and Cole joined him willingly enough on the journey from their home near California to Nova Scotia, Canada. They longed for adventure, and he intrigued them with stories of David's half-human daughter. Once they arrived, however, Kieran made it clear that David's daughter was his target. They were simply brought along to assist. With that news, their eagerness faded. At the moment, they glared at him in accusation.

"Alex would never make us come here," Farren complained. He was the most outspoken of the three. The other two grunted their agreement.

Kieran checked his anger and sighed. There was no use irritating the men further, and he wouldn't admit that he had no more interest in this club than they did. It was simply a means to an end. Still, he couldn't resist admonishing them slightly. "My brother is not here, is he? Nor would it matter if he was. I am the eldest. You must listen to me, not him."

It was unfortunate, really. As identical twins, Kieran won the right to rule by mere minutes. Yet his brother, Alexios, truly had the personality that inspired loyalty in others. His charisma and natural desire to lead gained him untold friends and followers. Kieran only managed to piss off everyone. His father originally thought he'd grow out of it, but after Kieran celebrated his hundredth birthday, even Stephan gave up on that notion.

There was one thing Stephan did trust his eldest son with above all else – reconnaissance. Kieran's ability to uncover information and hidden motives was uncanny. He bested his own father's skills, and Stephen was a renowned warrior. Once Stephan made him an elder of their clan, Kieran headed every important mission. This excursion was no different. As close as Stephan and David were, Kieran knew his father still desired first-hand knowledge about David's daughter. The directive was clear. He was to find her, determine her level of power, and decide whether she was a threat to their kind or not. Simple enough. The problem had been getting her alone. Between David and his two sisters, the girl was carefully guarded.

"Why are we at this hellhole anyway?" This time it was Cole who spoke. There was less bite in Cole's question. Of the three of them, Cole was the one Kieran most considered a friend.

"We're looking for the girl," Farren responded before Kieran could. "David's daughter."

"What are your plans with her?" Cole asked, his expression mildly curious. The other two looked at Kieran as well. He hadn't told them anything about tonight's mission. They knew that she was expected to show up here, but that was all.

"Don't know yet." He shrugged and continued to search the crowd. It was an honest enough answer. He'd been tracking her for months, occasionally tapping into her thoughts. That was how he discovered she was coming here tonight. It wasn't the honorable thing to do. He actually felt rather sleazy about it. She was unaware of his intrusion. If he hoped to win her trust, he'd have to own up to his actions at some point. For the time being, though, his visits into her mind served his purpose. Like now, he thought and smiled to himself. An older silver car stopped next to the curb. The doors opened, and three of the four females struggled to get out.

David's daughter – her name was Meara, but Kieran hadn't shared that information with his men yet – tripped as she got out of the car, catching herself before she face planted on the pavement. Thankfully, he resisted the impulse to run over and try to catch her. She managed on her own, although she teetered dangerously in her strappy, heeled shoes. By her giggling, Kieran knew she was okay, probably more than okay. A quick dip into her thoughts confirmed it. The girls had their own pre-party back at the house. He stifled a laugh when the thin brunette tried to stand up prematurely and bumped her head on the roof of the car. It was rather interesting to watch the intoxicated trio try to get their bearings. After wrapping their arms around each other, Meara and the brunette wove their way to the line at the club entrance. The driver came out of the car last. She was tall with straight blond hair. With a shake of her head, she put her arm around the shoulders of the other girl. This one's hair was a mass of curls that bounced as she swayed on her feet. The driver swore loudly and scolded the lot of them, obviously she was the only sober one in the group. They ignored her. Her petite companion swayed and hiccupped, making Kieran chuckle. It was an amusing site watching them make their way into the club.

The entrance line, which had been long, shortened during the time that the guys awaited the girls' arrival. It didn't take long for the girls to be admitted. Kieran waited a moment and then motioned for his men to follow him. They skipped the remaining line and were admitted immediately.

The club was crowded, but Kieran tuned into Meara's thoughts to find her. The girls placed their jackets on a table to claim it and were heading onto the dance floor. Dancing was something Kieran knew and understood. The moves came naturally to him, and he found himself anticipating this first encounter with her.

He stopped at the edge of the dance floor and felt the others standing behind him. Meara danced with abandon. It was clear she consumed enough alcohol that she wasn't worried about what anyone thought. Her moves were free and joyful. Her sable hair hung in waves over her shoulders, and she'd done something to her eyes. They were smoky and dark, rimmed in black. Her dress clung to her curves. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

"They're attractive, I'll give you that," Farren mused, then added. "I'll take the blonde."

"Which one?" Liam asked. It was the first time he spoke since they arrived. Even that much speech surprised Kieran. Liam must have an interest in one of the two girls. It took something important for him to talk.

"The taller one with the straight hair." Farren raised an eyebrow and waited to see if there was an issue. Liam relaxed and nodded.

So the petite blonde caught Liam's eye. It mattered not to Kieran. His mission was clear. He was focused on Meara and no one else. He would uncover what he needed to know and report back to his father. "That leaves you the brunette," he told Cole, who grinned in reply.

At Kieran's word, the men bid their time, watching the human mating ritual unfold on the dance floor. It was rather bold, but interesting all the same. The males strode up behind the females, placing their hands on the women's hips or shoulders, touching in ways that Kieran found somewhat intimate for strangers. Then again, one look at Meara sent a thrill of electricity coursing through him. How would it feel to place his hands on her skin? To feel and really know the power that flowed beneath, power that she herself was not aware of yet.

Now that they understood the expected behaviors, it was time. Kieran motioned for his men to follow him. As he ordered, they would each engage their targeted female in dance. Kieran slid behind Meara, his movements bold and sure. Inside, he was anything but. What if she rejected him? What if she knew what he was and confronted him? If he messed up this encounter, would he get another chance? David kept her close to his wing. And if her father wasn't around, then her boyfriend, Evan was. Not that Evan would be much of a challenge. He was more boy than man. However, he had her heart, which gave him a slight advantage. No matter, now was not the time to dwell on it.

Taking a breath, he placed his hands on Meara's hips. It took all his strength not to let that same air whoosh out when her power slammed into him. It left him lightheaded and reeling. Momentarily, he wondered if that's how she had been feeling when she first arrived. He ignored the ridiculous desire to grin like an idiot or ravish her delicious mouth. Focus, he told himself.

"I haven't seen you before." He spoke next to her ear, so she could hear him above the music. "Do you come here often?"

Her body trembled. He wondered if he'd scared her, until he realized she was laughing. What was so funny? She shook her head, but otherwise did not speak. "What's your name?" he persisted.

"It's Meara!" the brunette shouted and winked.

"Meara." Kieran said her name slowly, pretending that he was hearing it for the first time. At any rate, he enjoyed the sound of it on his lips. Tuned into her emotions, he felt her indignation at her friend, followed by her response when he said her name. She relented, just a little. The notion thrilled him. She was attracted to him, too.

She was smaller than he expected. Most of the females back home stood almost eye to eye with him. Meara barely reached his shoulder. She danced well, her movements fluid and graceful, if not a bit reserved. That pleased him. He didn't want her comfortable dancing with strangers. He didn't want her comfortable dancing with anyone but him. The jealousy surprised him. He knew so little about her. What concern should it be of his who she danced with?

She looked up into his eyes, her sharp intake of breath pleased him. Her mouth was slightly open. Kieran didn't think she realized it. It made her that much more appealing, and he longed to cover her soft lips with his own. Resisting the urge, he smiled and said, "I'm Kieran."

"Do I know you?" Meara frowned at him. He knew that she was trying to place him. She had seen him twice before, once at the hockey rink and once on the college campus. She didn't remember that, though. He was sure of it.

"We haven't met." He winked. "You would have remembered." When she rolled her eyes, he tightened his grip her hips, feeling her muscles flex as she moved. He caught the beat and moved with her. "You're not from here, are you, Meara?"

She shook her head.

"I didn't think so." Kieran wished she'd told him where she was from. He wondered where she'd been hiding. David contacted Stephan the month prior, excited that he finally found his daughter. It was only because David and his father were long-time friends that Kieran knew about Meara at all. Where had she been?

"What about you?" she asked, breaking him out of his musings.

"No, I'm not from here." He didn't elaborate. It was hard to focus. She was taking over his senses. The smell of her, sweet and floral, filled his nostrils. He could taste her power, untainted and barely constrained. She had no idea of what she was capable of. Kieran guessed that David had no idea either or he would've whisked her away by now. She was, in a word, incredible.

The song ended and another began. He dropped his hand from her side and took her hand in his, leading her off the dance floor to a quieter corner of the club. "Can I get you a drink?"

"I think I've had enough."

Her wry grin made him laugh. "I meant a Coke or water or..." He found it difficult to look away. Her eyes, an unusual blend of blue and gray, mesmerized him.

"Diet Coke is great." She turned and searched the crowd. "Where is everyone?"

Kieran pointed toward the back of the dance floor. Shortly after Meara started talking to him, he ordered the others to move away. They'd taken the girls to the furthest corner of the room and kept them occupied.

Meara relaxed when she spotted her friends, although when she turned back to him, her eyebrow was raised. "Friends of yours?"

"Friends." He mulled it over. They were more Alex's friends than his, and yet, they'd followed him on this mission and took his orders willingly enough. "Yes, I suppose you could say that."

Meara tilted her head and studied him. He wondered what she was seeing. He refused to peek into her head and find out. Everyone was entitled to some level of privacy. That would be an unforgivable invasion for purely selfish purposes. Not that he wasn't tempted. He focused on paying for the drinks. Handing her the Diet Coke, he tilted his glass towards hers, smiled and downed it.

Immediately, he wished he had asked for water. The drink she chose was revolting. The acid burned down his throat, leaving a metallic taste in his mouth. He watched her gulp the contents. She seemed to enjoy it. Perhaps it was an acquired taste. When there was nothing left but ice, she handed the drink back to him. He placed the empty glasses on the bar. His throat stopped burning, much to his relief.

She was watching him, her expression a mixture of anticipation and wariness. He didn't need to read her mind to understand that she was struggling internally. Her thoughts flitted across her face. She was attracted to Kieran. That left her feeling guilty that she was betraying her boyfriend. Her struggle both amused and frustrated him. She was very young and naïve. He wanted to protect her. He ran his finger down her forearm. She shivered, but didn't pull away.

"I have a boyfriend," she blurted, then blushed.

Kieran laughed. "Oh, I know."

She stepped back. "What do you mean, 'you know?'"

He knew he reacted inappropriately. After coming so far, he couldn't mess things up now. Perhaps a compliment would diffuse her anger. Kieran gestured to her. "A beautiful girl like you is never free."

She blushed again, and he found that he liked watching her cheeks tinge bright pink. Given the opportunity, he might look for ways to bring out that color.

"If you know I'm not free, why are you here?"

She crossed her arms and waited. Her angry stance was rather cute. "I could ask you the same thing," he said.

She looked scared. Her eyes once again searched the room. "I need to get back to my friends."

"They are fine." Once again, he worried that he was losing her, scaring her away. He took her hand and squeezed. "Please stay."

He didn't mean to influence her, but he knew he had when her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. He'd passed his emotions onto her. Normally he was in more control. Something about her made it difficult for him to concentrate. The pounding music slowed into a softer ballad. Holding out his hand, he asked, "Will you dance?"

Meara seemed to consider for a moment before giving him her hand and letting him lead her to the dance floor. He pulled her close against him. Her head rested over his heart, and it felt like she belonged there. She belonged with him. The connection was strong. Her power sung out to his. Did she feel it, too? He thought she might as she relaxed against him.

Kieran, Cole's alarmed voice rang through his head. I think we've compelled them too much. We're starting to gather unwanted attention.

Glancing in their direction, Kieran noticed two bouncers making their way toward his companions. The girls drooped in their arms. To an outsider, it would appear that the guys had drugged their dates. In reality, the human females had been overexposed to magic. With a sigh, he siphoned the magic from Meara's three friends. The surge of power gave him an instant headache. Clenching his jaw, he worked through the pain to place a memory-erasing enchantment on them. The song ended, and he stepped back. His head throbbed. He tried not to let it show.

"I must go," he said. "Can I see you again?"

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"I thought you'd say that." He hid his disappointment. She was kind and faithful. Throughout this evening, Evan was never out of her thoughts. It made Kieran angry. He bent his head, his eyes never leaving her face. The desire to leave her wanting him was too strong. He meant for the kiss to be chaste, just a quick taste of what he could offer, but when she responded to his touch, he lost control.

She was intoxicating. It took all his will to break the kiss. He was amused when he realized she gripped his shirt in her hands. She was as taken with their exchange as he was. He saw the moment she came back to her senses. She let go of his shirt and jumped back, her hands flying to her lips. His own tingled with the memory of their kiss. With relief, he realized his headache was gone, too.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Meara Quinn." He backed away slowly, his eyes locked on hers.

When he turned, he hurried to the exit, knowing that Cole and the others waited outside in the shadows a safe distance away. They narrowly escaped the bouncers, who continued to search the club in vain.

Kieran smiled to himself a moment later when he heard her ask, "How do you know my last name?"

He was already beyond her sight, so there was no need for him to respond. Better to leave her guessing anyway. In those last moments, her emotions combined with his own and threatened to overwhelm him. She was beautiful, powerful, and intelligent, too. He hadn't expected to be so taken with her. No female made him feel that way before. With a sinking realization, he knew he met his match. Now he only had to win his way into her heart.
Read the rest of Meara's story in Never Forgotten by Kelly Risser.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kelly Risser loves books—reading books, collecting books, and sharing books aloud with her kids. It's been her lifelong dream to write a book, and now, she's done it! Contact Kelly at www.kellyrisser.com or follow on Twitter @Kar2b

# Meeting Liz

## A young adult contemporary romance by Kristina Renee

Austin followed Randy and I as we walked to the flag pole. We usually spent lunch there if we didn't go off campus. There were a few other guys waiting when we arrived.

"Nice ride, Cooper." Collin was a buddy from elementary school. His dad was my soccer coach through junior high. I didn't see him much over the summer so he didn't see my new car until I pulled in that morning.

"Hey, Col. Thanks." I shrugged and turned to fist bump Noah. "An early graduation present."

Austin nodded to the guys then quickly turned away, his focus on a blonde that was bouncing toward us.

"Hey, Austin. It's good to see you." She hopped into his arms. He stumbled for a sec then relaxed and set her down.

"Kim. You look good."

Kim was cute but a little too flirty. I learned to stay away from girls that thought too much of themselves. I was not interested in high maintenance.

It didn't take long before a group of three girls walked up behind him. Austin quickly reached out toward a brunette with long hair and pulled her into his arms. I couldn't take my eyes off her.

She seemed a little stiff at first but then hugged him back. Austin held her like he was a soldier coming back from war. I didn't realize I was staring until Randy nudged my arm.

"Dude, take a breath. She's probably a freshman."

I shook my head but didn't look away. "No way is she a freshman...but she's definitely new." I wouldn't have missed a face or body like that last year. She was curvy and sweet with perfect skin that made me want to run my fingers all over it.

"The blonde hanging on Austin seems kinda slutty but the one with short hair is pretty cute." Randy was a little more subtle about his inspection of the four girls but I didn't bother being discreet. I wanted her to know I was watching. It took a minute for the brunette to look in my direction but when she did, her eyes locked with mine and I felt it in my soul. Her eyes matched the bright blue butterfly on her shirt. Her wavy brown hair flowed almost to the edge of her skinny jeans and I had to stop myself from reaching out to her.

She rubbed her nose like she had allergies then turned her back and dug around in her purse.

I took a few steps forward, her pull undeniable. I needed to be closer to her. I sidled up to Austin and waited for an introduction. When the idiot didn't take the hint, I spoke up.

"Hey, Auz, who are your friends?"

He startled but recovered quickly.

"This is Liz. She didn't go here last year but I knew her in middle school. You probably remember Kim from last year." He motioned toward the blonde. "She's a sophomore now. And these two are Jen and Allie."

They all smiled as their names were announced but Liz was the only one I noticed. Even though it was only a half smile, I was completely lost in it.

"Ladies, this is Logan Cooper and that's Randy Thompson hiding behind him."

Randy said something to Austin but I didn't even hear it. I took a step toward Liz and offered her my hand. "Liz. It's nice to meet you." After a moment of looking shocked, she squared up her shoulders, lifted her head, and took my hand in a firm grip. It was adorable. I could almost see her reciting the steps to a formal introduction in her head.

I briefly wondered if she was one of those snobby chicks raised to think she was royalty and the world owed her reverence. I hoped not because I couldn't handle another entitled bitch like Becky. My ex was captain of the cheer squad and thought she walked on water. Too bad she thought I was her own personal ocean and treated me like shit. Those were the longest eight months of my life. "Are you a sophomore too?"

"Yeah. You?" She was determined to keep her cool even though I heard a slight tremor in her voice. I wanted to hug her and tell her to relax.

"Senior. You know, I feel like I've met you before but I know I wouldn't forget you." Something about her was so familiar. I let my gaze wander every inch of her face before it hit me. I leaned into Randy.

"Doesn't she kinda remind you of Emma?" Randy's ex was really cute but nothing like Liz. And she had a permascowl that ruined the rest of her features.

Randy nodded quickly then looked over to the other brunette, Jen.

Liz didn't miss the exchange and her face pinked up again. I wasn't sure if it was from embarrassment that we were watching her or anger that I was clearly talking about her. Either way, I couldn't help but smirk at how easy it was to get her riled up. She was going to be fun.

"What?" she finally asked when she couldn't hold it in any longer. She tried to sound annoyed but I could see the self-consciousness on her face. She was expecting something bad.

"You remind me of someone." My smile grew as I saw the wheels turning in her head. Not wanting to genuinely upset her, I didn't make her wait too long. "Randy's ex-girlfriend. You kinda look like her...but you're way hotter."

She completely deflated but her shyness kicked up a few notches. "Yeah right."

I expected her to relax at the compliment and maybe even flirt a little. At least that's what girls usually do when they get a compliment. But she completely shocked me by turning and walking over to her friends.

Not gonna happen, Liz. "It's true." I was almost touching her back in two long strides. Her body froze and her head tilted toward me but it took a second for her to turn around.

"Whatever. I'm sure she's just adorable." She was going for annoyed but I could hear the quiver in her voice. She didn't believe me. Did she think I was fucking with her or trying to embarrass her? I wanted to reach out and pull her into my arms but I held onto a thread of self-control.

"I mean it." I don't know how I got so close but she was leaning into me, those beautiful blue eyes begging me not to hurt her as my mouth was just inches from hers. "I used to think she was really pretty but now, compared to you, I can see I was wrong. Your blue eyes are amazing. And your hair...I love long hair." My hand reached out and separated a few strands. It was silky and soft and I wanted to lean down to smell it. I was about to when I heard a forced cough and a cheery voice in my ear.

"Logan, right? It's good to see you. I knew Becky from choir. She was always talking about you." The blonde that had been hanging on Austin was nudging Liz out of my personal space and worming herself into it. And she was one of Becky's friends. No wonder I didn't remember her from last year. She looked vaguely familiar but I didn't associate with anyone that was close to Becky. She was a nut job and I didn't need her minions reporting my every move to her.

I instinctively stepped back to get some space from the girl that was practically shoving her tits in my face. I didn't mean to frown but the quiet chuckles from the guys made me realize I wasn't successful. "You're one of Becky's friends?" I couldn't help looking her over quickly. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Her look of shock told me that wasn't the answer she expected. I don't know what the hell she did expect by bringing up my ex in front of a girl I'm obviously interested in but I didn't have time to play games. If she was truly Liz's friend, she'd never mention that name again.

"We aren't close friends. I just knew her from a few classes." Good. She seemed to just be making conversation. "Well, it was nice to meet you guys but we need to get to our lockers." She smiled wide and grabbed Liz's arm, pulling her away from me.

I was left staring at a wall the four girls disappeared behind. I wanted to follow Liz and get her number but I didn't want to seem desperate. I've never chased a girl in my life. No reason to start now.

Although, there was something different about her. Liz was guarded in a way that I didn't see in most girls. Instead of being flirty or just shy, she was feisty and strong. As much as that little voice inside my head was telling me to be careful, I wanted to learn everything about Liz and what it would take to get through her barrier.

She wasn't going to be an easy conquest but nothing worth having was ever easy. She would be worth the fight. I could just feel it.
Read the rest of Liz's story in Safer Outside by Kristina Renee.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kristina Renee was born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area of California. She married her high school sweetheart after college and they have two sweet and adventurous sons. She spends her time chauffeuring her kids around and doing technical marketing but when she can escape, she loves reading, writing and editing. Learn more at www.KristinaReneeBooks.com or follow onTwitter @authorkristinar

# Illusions

## A new adult paranormal romance by N.L. Greene

Blaine

He watched her from the shadows, intrigued yet uneasy. He'd never felt an uncontrollable pull to another person the way he did to her. It was as if he couldn't get enough and it was only the sight of her doing this to him. He'd never spoken to her, never touched her, never heard her voice, but still, he sought her out daily. What sort of effect would she have on him if he actually met her? His curiosity already had him hiding in alley ways or dipping low in corner booths which is exactly what scared him. He was becoming a stalker and for no good reason.

The first time he laid eyes on her was when he attended a magic show in the city. He always found them pleasurable, a great way to sit back and relax. When he was caught up in the magic on the stage, he was able to forget the world around him and with it, all his problems. It didn't matter that he always knew the secrets of the illusions being performed, they were still entertaining so he went to as many magic shows as he could. Of course he always attended alone. What good was going to something that was meant to help him relax, if he had to entertain a companion while there?

For this very reason, he also steered clear of interacting with any of the audience members. Sure he got the occasional questioning look, even a dirty look from a parent or two for being a single, young guy alone at a magic show, but he ignored the looks and focused on the diversion. Until one show in particular where a fiery red head caught his attention. She walked in alone, her smile bright and eyes wide, as she made her way to the front of the theater. He watched her from his seat a few rows back as she sat down by herself, retrieving a pad of paper and pen from her purse. Once she was settled, she sat back and eagerly awaited the show. Eventually the chairs on either side of her filled, she offered a polite hello but didn't appear to know anyone around her. She came to the show alone, just as he had. By this point he was more than curious.

Finally the lights dimmed and a loud voice boomed through the theater. "Welcome ladies and gentlemen! Are you ready for an amazing show?"

The audience cheered and clapped their excitement, just as they were supposed to do. Once the announcer was satisfied with the response, he continued. "Well then, let the magic begin!"

There were more yells and whistles as the lights went almost completely out then a spot light shone on the dark stage, revealing the magician for the night.

Throughout all of this, Blaine didn't take his eyes from the fair skinned woman. He sat mesmerized but for a completely different reason. As she watched the show with rapt attention, she occasionally scribbled a note in her little pad. He wondered what she was writing, if she was a reporter or a student, taking notes for a paper, or if she was just so intrigued with magic that she was taking notes to solve the puzzles. He banished the last thought, knowing one of the other reasons was much more likely. Eventually a secret guard caught on to her note taking and approached her during intermission. Blaine couldn't hear the verbal exchange, but he saw her shoulders droop as she tore out the papers she had scribbled on, turned them over to the guard, and then tucked her pad and paper back into her purse. The patrons around her gave her odd looks, but she ignored them as she turned her attention back to the stage and waited for the show to begin again.

For the remainder of the show, she sat forward in her seat, leaning as close to the stage as she could get. Blaine could tell by her posture that she was completely enthralled with the magician on the stage and the illusion he was carrying out. The more Blaine watched her, the more enthralled he became with her. He wanted to know what had her so captivated, what she thought of the show, and if she knew how the magician was performing his tricks. Blaine had been so caught up in her, that before he knew it, the show was ending, the crowd standing with applause, and the object of his musing was slipping through the crowd. He hurried from his seat, but by the time he pushed his way through the crowd and exited the theater, she was nowhere to be seen.

Shaking his head at his romantic notions of meeting this girl and finding her just as equally intriguing up close, he took his time walking the streets of lower Manhattan. He allowed himself to think of her for a few more minutes before pushing the fiery red head that seemed to be in love with magic from his head. New York City was a huge city; the chances of seeing her again were slim to none.

***

Or so he thought. Two weeks later, Blaine was walking through Central Park, debating what he would do with the choices his granddad had presented to him. His granddad was a strong man, the back bone of their family, and an amazing teacher. He'd taught Blaine everything he knew, how to harness his power, how to make it grow, and how important it was to stay true and virtuous. Now his granddad wanted him to become his apprentice, he wanted to know that Blaine would step into his shoes once he was gone. Normally the torch would be passed along to the eldest son, Blaine's father, but Blaine was much more powerful than his father so it was only natural that Blaine becomes the new teacher and mentor. It was a big role to fill though and he wasn't sure if he was ready for it. He was only twenty-three years old and felt like he had so much more of the world to see before he settled down in such a way.

Lost in thought, he almost missed what was taking place in one of the small enclaves of the park. There was a small gathering of people just at the end of a tree covered path, making it difficult to see what they were watching but the 'oohs' and 'ahhs' intrigued him enough to have him joining the group. Once he got closer he saw that it was a magic show. He almost dismissed it; sure the performer was nowhere near good enough to hold his attention, when something about the magician gave him pause. It was just past dusk, the glow of the moon and the street lamps being the only light in the park, so it was hard to make out the figure. There was a feeling though, deep inside, that made him move forward and around a few people, getting closer in hopes of identifying why this person seemed so familiar.

What he saw was a woman, tall and thin yet curvy in all the most important places. He knew this because the outfit she wore left little to the imagination. She wore a fitted long sleeved, collared shirt that was unbuttoned enough to show a good amount of her cleavage and the lacy black bra holding her in place. Over the white shirt was an equally fitted black vest, pulling tight around her stomach and ribs, further emphasizing her chest. Paired with that, appeared to be nothing more than solid black panties, or maybe a bathing suit bottom. He wasn't sure what it was but he was sure he liked the way it looked on her. His gaze traveled down from there to see her impossibly long and shapely legs incased in black fishnet hose and then finally coming to rest on the bright, red high heels on her feet. Her body was perfect and the outfit she wore showed it off amazingly well, but it was her hair and face that held most of his attention.

Flowing around her shoulders and down her back was fiery, red hair that was a wild mess of curls, giving her a uninhabited and sexy look. It perfectly accented her pale skin and angelic bone structure but he could only see half of what he knew was a beautiful face because the other half was covered by a sexy black and red mask. It covered her from her forehead to just below her nose, leaving only pink lush lips and bright green eyes visible. It was enough. He knew without a doubt this was his mystery girl and that he wanted to get to know her even more now.

He watched her show until the end, impressed with how much of a natural she was. Her tricks were flawless, almost as if she were performing real magic. This had him intrigued for other reasons. Once the show was over, he watched from a distance as she packed her things up and took compliments and questions from her audience. She was shy and seemed to be in a hurry so he maintained his position but decided he would follow her a bit to see if he could find out more about this girl that loved magic and seemed to have a natural gift for it.

Once he found out where she lived, it was much easier to find out other things about her. Her name was Katherine Rebecca Wellington and she was a student, attending law school and apparently on a ridiculously fast track, too. It seemed she was expected to work at the same law firm her parents owned once she graduated. Seemed like a lot of pressure to him, but who was he to judge? The few times he spotted her out socially, she was either with her parents or a man. He found out this was her a boyfriend, someone he knew he would hate if he ever had the displeasure of actually meeting. This helped him to keep his distance, though. He tried not to follow her, it felt too much like being a stalker, but he seemed to run into her often. She was at every magic show within a fifty mile radius of Manhattan, as was he. He wouldn't admit he went to them all in hopes of seeing her or how pleased he was when she showed up to each one alone.

Eventually his thoughts of her and need to see her became too much to bear, so he sought out his granddad's advice.

They were in the classroom Blaine's family used to teach lessons and study. It was located on the immense property in upstate New York his family had owned for generation. It was secluded and secure within the mountains, giving them the privacy they needed to practice their magic.

"How do you feel when you see this girl, son?" his granddad asked as he closed books and placed them on the bookshelves in front of him.

"It's hard to describe. It's nothing I've ever felt before and it's not just attraction. I feel this connection, a current of electricity that flows through me..." Blaine shook his head, finding it difficult to describe.

His granddad set the books in his hands down and turned toward his grandson, giving Blaine his full attention. "Is she a magic user?"

"I don't think so, but she seems to really like it," Blaine chuckled softly at the memory of her wistful looks toward the magicians on stage and the memory of the numerous times she was caught taking notes or snapping photos when it was prohibited. "I even saw her perform her own little show in Central Park. It was cute."

His granddad tilted his head and studied his grandson, a small smile on his face before he straightened and became more serious. "I think you have yourself a magic user on your hands there, son, she just doesn't know it."

"How do you know?"

"Well, she loves magic, which is normal, but to the point of putting on her own shows? Was she any good?" he didn't even wait for an answer. "Of course she was. Then the feelings you're describing when you're near her–that's pretty normal when two similar souls meet."

Everything his granddad said made sense until the last part. At hearing those words, Blaine's head jerked back, "What does that mean?"

His granddad winked and turned his back on Blaine, continuing to straighten his books. "You'll find out soon enough. Watch out for this girl, maybe bring her around, and introduce her to the group. She may be interested."

Blaine knew the end of a conversation when he heard it.

*****

After thinking about what his granddad said, Blaine decided to engage with his mystery woman. Not only was he curious about her, but now that his granddad thought she might be a magic user, he knew she would be discovered eventually and he didn't' want it to be the wrong people. Then there was that little tidbit about similar souls. Blaine wasn't sure what that meant, but he intended on finding out.

So then began his stalker-like behavior. Referring to it that way wasn't something he liked to do, but he couldn't lie to himself, and he couldn't not do it. He began to follow her more steadily but made sure to stay in the open, hoping to lessen the prowler like feeling it gave him. He would stand against buildings, casually watching her as she went to lunch or sit a few seats away from her on the subway ride to and from work. She didn't notice at first but eventually he could see she was catching on. Her gaze caught his a few times, but he wasn't ready to talk to her yet, still unsure of how to approach her with unbelievable stories of real magic. So once he knew he was spotted, he'd slip away into the shadows.

Inspiration finally hit late one night when he was on-line discussing some things with a few of the other MysticSeekers. They had a forum that was hidden in the depths of the dark web. Only those who knew about it could even find it. He decided to send her a message that would give her limited access to the site. She'd be able to explore, hopefully piquing her interest enough to inquire on her own, but keeping the groups secrets still hidden until he knew if he could trust her or not. As much as he felt he could trust her, he still had a group to protect.

If the invitation to the forum didn't work out, he knew there was a magic show later that week in the city and he was sure she would be attending; slipping her a business card might be a good idea too.

Satisfied with some sort of plan, Blaine continued his week, working with his granddad on some research and trying to stay away from Katherine. His magnetic attraction to her was intense but she was involved with another man and he wasn't the type of guy to interfere. Besides, he definitely didn't want to get arrested for stalking. He e-mailed her the link to the website and waited, checking multiple times a day for any sort of response from her. By the time the magic show rolled around, she still hadn't posted anything so he wasn't sure what that meant. Had she received the message? Did she think it was bogus or was she turned off by the site? All of his unanswered questions made him that much more eager for the show later that evening.

When he handed his ticket over and practically ran into the theater, he breathed out a sigh of relief to see his girl down in the front row, patiently awaiting the performance. Confirming that she was safe and sound, Blaine was able to take his seat and enjoy the show. His eyes stayed glued to the back of her head though. Once the magician preformed his final act and the audience stood, Katherine stood as well, making her way toward the back of the theater just as she always did. This time Blaine was ready. He stepped out into the aisle just behind her, pulling a business card from his pocket and reaching toward her to slip it in. As soon as he realized what he was doing, he froze. He was reaching for her back pocket, the same one that was encasing her shapely hips and butt. With that thought, there was a brief lapse in his rational thinking. He began to imagine what she looked like without those jeans and it did things to him that weren't proper for public. Shaking his head, he realized he would need to use a little magic. He scanned the area, saw that everyone was still engrossed in what was happening on the stage or with gathering their children. Certain he wouldn't be spotted; he flicked the card from his fingers, watched it do a flip or two in the small space between them, and then zapped it into her back pocket.

Happy with himself for doing the right thing and not allowing his behavior to cross the line into total creepiness, he turned to leave but before he could turn around or pull back, one of the other audience members bumped him from behind, sending him right into Katherine's back. "Jesus!" he heard her exclaim as he reached out instinctively to stop her from falling, uttering a mumbled "sorry" when his hand made contact with her skin. She jerked away and stalked off but he was too busy staring down at his hands to notice. There was a tingling feeling spreading through his fingertips into his palms, almost as if he had been zapped by an electrical outlet – not too much power but enough to give him pause. It felt similar to when he conjured his magic, but still different, something he'd never felt before. He stood frozen in the middle of the aisle trying to figure out what the feeling was until someone bumped into him once again, bringing him back to where he was.

As Blaine made his way home, he couldn't shake the odd feelings he'd experienced. Not only had he felt a weird electrical current run through him, but he also sensed a nervousness and fear from Katherine. It worried him more than he wanted to admit. So much so that he made a decision. He couldn't wait for her to contact him much longer. Even though he didn't know her, he felt a connection to her and the idea of her being scared or vulnerable wasn't something he could sit back and allow. Before he went to bed, he decided he'd give her another few days and if she still hadn't found the clues he'd left her, he'd call her.

***

Blaine kept his distance as much as he could but he still found himself standing outside of the diner Katherine liked to frequent or a few seats down from her on the subway as she rode home from work. He still couldn't shake the feeling that something had happened to her to spook her and until he was sure she was okay, he felt justified in keeping an eye on her.

He was glad he did when she left work the next day a little early. For once he hadn't actually been waiting on her, he was meeting a colleague, when he saw her exit the building looking upset. His eyes narrowed as he watched her from across the street, instinctively knowing that something was wrong. Before he could figure it out, a man approached her from behind and pushed her up against the wall. It only took a second for Blaine to realize it was the boyfriend. He waited a moment, debating on if he should interfere or not, but then he heard her squeal and the decision was made. He strode across the street, barely missing being hit by a car or two.

As he got closer to the couple, he heard some of the words the man was saying.

"You like that?" the man's voice was filled with anger, something Blaine didn't like one bit.

"Excuse me?" Blaine asked from behind the man, hoping he would turn around and let the girl in his arms go. Blaine didn't really want to use magic out on the open street but he was fully prepared to do so if he had to.

"Get lost asshole," the man sneered before Katherine gasped.

Blaine nearly lost it at the sound of her helpless breath, but he decided to give the bastard one more chance. "I just need directions," Blaine said trying to sound pleasant.

The man finally whirled around, a snarl on his face, and Katherine took the opportunity to slip away and run down the street. It took a second for the boyfriend to notice so by the time he turned around and started calling after her, she was too far away for him to catch. Blaine let out a sigh of relief. The man before him wasn't so happy. He whirled back around, trying to give Blaine a death glare that he completely ignored. Instead, he squinted his eyes and glanced down the road as if he were still lost. "So, about those directions?"

"Fuck you!" the guy yelled then turned around and stalked off.

Blaine should have felt better about stopping the jerk from hurting Katherine but it only made him angry. He didn't like the idea of someone hurting his beautiful, happy girl.

Whoa, wait a minute! His girl? Blaine was attracted to her, there was no denying that, but thinking of her as his girl boarded that stalker-ish behavior he was trying to avoid. He needed to focus on the reason he was keeping tabs on her. It was for business purposes only. His granddad thought she might be a magic user and if she was, she would need the MysticSeekers. He just had to figure out a way to tell her about them without her thinking he was insane.

Given the circumstanced of the day, that night Blaine came up with what he hoped to be a solid plan. He'd wait outside of her office just before lunch time and then approach her. It probably wasn't the best idea, but since she hadn't reached out to him or any of the other MysticSeekers through the site, he was losing hope she would. And every day he had to keep his distance from her, witnessing the struggles she seemed to be going through, proved to be harder and harder. Little did he know, his patience and restraint would be truly tested the next day.

As he stood by a fountain across the street from Wellington and Wellington, he tried to calm his nerves as he rehearsed quietly what he would say to her.

"Hi, I'm Blaine, you don't know me but I know you...No that's stupid and sounds way to much like a stalker," he scolded himself as he glanced at the watch on his wrist. She'd be out any minute now so he needed to get his story straight, quick.

"Hi, do you have a moment? I'm Blaine and there's something I'd like to discuss with you, in private... No, that sounds creepy," he chastised himself again. How in the hell could he tell her he knew who she was, that there was such a thing as real magic, and that he thought she possessed the power to do it, without sounding like a complete psycho?

He stopped pacing, glanced at his watch for the tenth time, and then looked up at the glass building across the street as he ran his hand through his hair. Just as he was going to start up with the pacing and rehearsing again, the doors to the building opened, causing the light to reflect off of them, momentarily blinding him. Once he cleared his vision, he saw Katherine exiting the building, her father close to her side. Blaine's head tilted and his eyes narrowed as he studied the pair. They were several feet away, but his instincts were screaming at him. There was something wrong here. As he watched them climb into the back of a black town car, he hailed a cab and demanded it follow the pair as they drove away. A few moments later they were stopping outside of a police station. Blaine's heart rate increased and his stomach rolled. Why would they be here and why did his girl look so upset about it? He knew there was no way for him to find out, but his procrastination over approaching Katherine had just come to a screeching halt. Knowing there was nothing to be done now, he headed home.

Once there, he decided to go to her apartment later in the evening where he would be able to talk to her more privately. He just had to wait until he knew she would be home. He busied himself with going over some books his granddad had given him until then.

By nine that evening he was chomping at the bit. He needed to see Katherine and make sure she was okay. Grabbing his black hoodie and baseball cap, he left his apartment, hailed a cab, and made the quick ride across town to her apartment building. Once he paid the driver, he slipped into the shadows to regain his bearings before he attempted to get into her building. He didn't want to startle her by looking frazzled or crazy. As he was taking deep breaths, a car stopped in front of the building. A tall, handsome man stepped from the car, followed by a stunning woman. It was Katherine.

Blaine froze. The man held her hand as he walked her to the door of the building, the doorman discreetly slipping inside to give them some privacy. Blaine was too far to hear what they were saying but there was no mistaking the man's interest in Katherine. Blaine became jealous, even though he knew he had no right, even holding his breath as the man leaned toward Katherine for a kiss. Only minutes of watching felt like torturous hours, but finally the man left. Katherine stood there for a moment, watching the car disappear, but then her eyes began to scan the surrounding area, stopping when they were trained in his direction. He knew she couldn't see him but he felt as if she were looking directly into his eyes. He watched as she wrapped her arms around herself and shivered before quickly walking into the building.

For some reason Katherine's old boyfriend never felt like a threat to Blaine, but this guy did. Blaine decided right then and there that not only would he tell Katherine about magic tomorrow, but he would also make his intentions to claim her as his own, clear as well.

He was putting some books away, trying to stay busy as the minutes on the clock slowly ticked by, when his phone rang. Dashing for it and any excuse to take his mind off the task he planned to perform later, Blaine glanced at the screen to see his granddad's name.

"Hey, Granddad, is everything okay?"

"Of course it is, why wouldn't it be?" his granddad answered, offended at the thought of being checked on.

Blaine chuckled. "I just wanted to make sure old man. You don't call often so I wasn't certain."

His granddad made a noise somewhere between a grunt and snort which caused Blaine's smile to widen. His granddad was a spunky old man that hated being taken care of or worried about. He was in his seventies but didn't look a day over fifty and acted even younger. Blaine could only hope to be half as healthy and happy as his granddad when he reached that age.

*****

When his granddad still didn't say what he was calling for, Blaine took a seat at his desk, leaned his elbow on the table, and waited.

"You talk to that girl of yours?"

Blaine jerked back as if his granddad had smacked him on the back of his head. "What?"

"Don't play stupid with me boy. Your girl, the one that's a natural? You talk to her yet or you still scared?"

At that, Blaine's eyes narrowed even though his granddad couldn't see them. "I'm not scared!" he replied indignantly.

"Well then, what are you on the telephone with me for? Call her." Then his granddad hung up.

Blaine stared at the phone in disbelief for a moment before he chuckled and shook his head. His granddad always seemed to know when he needed a little push. And it usually worked. Taking a deep breath, Blaine keyed in the number he knew by heart and listened to the phone ring in his ear. His heart was racing, palms were sweating, and he actually considered hanging up but then the other end stopped ringing and he heard, "Wellington and Wellington, Katherine Wellington's office. How can I help you?"

"Uh..." he said then cleared his throat and sat up straighter. "Hi, may I speak with Katherine Wellington please?"

"Can I ask who's calling and in what regards?"

"Yes, my name's Blaine and it's a personal matter, if that's okay?" He didn't want to be offensive, he knew by his observations that this was her secretary and she was protective of Katherine. The last thing he wanted to do was throw up any red flags.

She hesitated, long enough for Blaine to break out in a cold sweat before she finally said, "hold please."

He blew out a relieved breath and waited for Katherine to pick up.

The phone clicked in a way that told him the call was being transferred, then, "Hey Helen, I'm on my way up," he heard her say quickly and was momentarily paralyzed by the sound of her voice.

Afraid she'd hang up though if he didn't get his act together, he said the first thing that came to mind. "Did you get my card?"

"Huh?" he heard her say.

"Did you get my card?" he asked again, still unsure of what else to say.

"How did you get that into my pocket?" she demanded and this made him smile.

"Magic," he answered, feeling a little more at ease.

"Okay, I'll bite. What sort of magic?" she asked but he could tell she was only humoring him.

"The only sort of magic there is, the real kind," he answered softly.

"But magic isn't real and I think we're both a little too old to still believe in it, don't you?"

"Oh, you're never too old to believe in magic, Becky."

She paused for a moment. He hadn't meant to use her name but it just slipped out. "Who is this?" she demanded, "And how do you know me?"

"I told you. Magic," he tried to say calmly, but his heart was beating so loudly he was sure she could hear it over the phone.

"No, that isn't an answer. I want to know right now how you know my name, how you slipped that card into my pocket, and how you seem to have all of my contact information. That is not magic, that is stalking."

Hearing the tremor in her voice, he sat up quickly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I promise I'm not stalking you. At least not in the way you're inferring."

"Well what other way is there to stalk someone?" she asked, exasperated.

"It's something I would prefer to talk about in person. Would you consider meeting me?" He held his breathe, knowing it was a long shot but he really couldn't discuss this over the phone with her.

"Huh-unh, I don't think so. You just admitted that you've been stalking me and now you want me to meet you in person? I don't think so."

He chuckled. He couldn't help it. She sounded so damn cute and he liked how smart she was being. "I understand you're reluctance, but we can meet somewhere public and I promise I won't hurt you. I think you already know that, don't you Becky?" he asked, his voice dripping in what he hoped was reassurance.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, but he could hear in her voice she already knew the answer to that.

"You've seen me around and we've even semi-met."

"When?"

"When your boyfriend was yelling at you." Just the thought of that day and seeing that guys hands on her the way they were made his blood boil in anger.

"That was you?" her voice turned soft and he could practically hear her trying to fit the puzzle pieces together. "Was that you across from the diner too and then later by my apartment..."

"And on the subway? Yes." He didn't want to scare her but he also didn't want her to think he was lying or trying to mislead her in any way. Getting her to believe him was already going to be an uphill battle.

"But how?" her voice whispered across the phone in disbelief. "I took a cab. There's no way you could have beat me there."

"I told you Becky, it's all by magic."

"No way," she breathed out.

"It is," Blaine whispered back.

"How did you..." she trailed off. "Never mind."

He chuckled. She wanted so badly to know more.

"Will you meet me?" he asked hopefully. He knew she'd be taking a huge risk meeting him. He was a stranger talking about nonsense, but he felt like he knew her and if he was right, she wouldn't be able to resist.

"I don't..." she started to say, but then paused. He could barely hear the sound of another voice, probably her secretary. "I have to go," she told him when she returned her attention to their conversation.

"Meet me tonight. Seven o'clock at the diner you ate lunch at the other day. I'll get us a booth in the back so we can talk," he said in a rush and then hung up before she could refuse.

He sat there staring at the phone in his hand as his heart finally started to slow back down to the normal rate. She seemed unsure, but he had a really good feeling he'd finally be meeting Katherine Rebecca Wellington tonight.
Read the rest of Katherine's story in Illusions by N.L. Greene

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Author N.L. Greene is a writer of YA and NA Contemporary and Paranormal Romances. She currently lives in Florida with her husband and two beautiful daughters. When she isn't writing or reading, she enjoys traveling around the world with her family, shopping and doing other girly things with her girls, or playing video games with her husband. She is a lover of dogs, chocolate, and anything pink!

Visit her at http://www.nlgreene.blogspot.com and follow on twitter @AuthorNLGreene

# Encounters

## A new adult paranormal romance by Randi Cooley Wilson

Asher

I'm bored out of my mind. When I took on this assignment, I hadn't given much thought to attending college, again. Yet here. I. Am. Sitting in architecture for the second time in my life, listening to the professor drone on and on.

Eve looks just about as bored as I am. She's zoned out. I can tell by the way she's tapping her pen on her iPad. It's not even turned on. I allow myself a brief side-glance to take in her face. A slight smile crosses her beautiful pink lips, and I find myself wondering what she's thinking about. Damn, she's so beautiful.

Suddenly, she realizes that she should be paying attention and sits up straighter before turning on her iPad and beginning to take notes.

Halfway through the lecture, I feel her eyes on me. I'm actually surprised it's taken this long for her to discern my presence since we've been in class for about a month now, and bonded a little longer than that.

Her gaze leaves a trail of heat along my skin. It's just the bond. I tell myself and school my features. I'm not supposed to have contact with her, and she definitely is not supposed to know I exist, not yet anyway.

I've been careful up until now and I remind myself that I'm only her protector, a job that needs to be handled from a distance. So I keep my eyes focused forward, pretending I don't know she's taking me all in.

As soon as her stunning hazel eyes land on The Spiritual Assembly of Protectors tattoo and leather bands, I cross my arms, attempting to show her that I'm not interested. Eve doesn't get the message though because oddly enough, she's actually leaning toward me.

I turn my gaze toward her and narrow my eyes while watching her with fascination. What the fuck is this girl doing to me? I catch those beautiful eyes with mine and see desire in them. I need to stop whatever is happening here. So, like a jackass, I lean over the empty chair between us, into her space.

"See something you like?" I ask in a malicious whisper, hoping she'll get the point.

I watch her face. Her reaction turns to surprise and she actually blushes. Shit. That's my undoing. Like a stalker, I watch the pink hue form on her perfect cheekbones before she snaps her gaze back to Professor Davidson.

Against my better judgment, I decide that I need to hear her voice, just once. When I notice the professor is mostly done for the day, I head to the exit and wait for her, casually leaning on the doorframe.

Shock crosses her face that I'm already down here waiting for her. I smile to myself, knowing she's confused about how I got down here so fast.

Eve moves closer to the door but she still hasn't said anything to me. Her face morphs into an, excuse me look, and damn if it doesn't just make me want to push her against the wall and kiss her plump lips senseless.

"After you," I say and her cheeks turn pink again.

I motion toward the door, trying to get her to say something, anything at this point, but she doesn't. My charge just walks through it, rolling her eyes. I should walk away. Hell, I need to walk away, but I just can't seem to. I'm so drawn to her.

"No need to thank me. It's truly my pleasure," I reply in a condensing tone, hoping to bait her.

It works. Eve spins around so fast that I have to stop walking before I run her down. I grab her upper arms to prevent her from stumbling backwards and try to ignore the sparks of energy that emanate off of where I'm touching her. Fucking bond.

My eyes drop to her face as I watch her close her eyes and inhale. Wait, is she smelling me? I lean into her.

"Falling for me already?" I ask, brushing my lips softly against her ear, needing to be closer to her. The minute I touch her, I know it's a mistake, but I can't seem to stop.

Suddenly, her hazel eyes look up at me through her long lashes and I come to my senses. I see she isn't amused with my lack of charm and for a moment, I'm confused and torn. Do I continue to talk with her, or just walk away? Her lips part and she makes the decision for me.

"What the hell is your problem?" she barks and narrows her eyes at me.

"The siren speaks." I feign awe at her voice. "I was beginning to question your familiarity with the English language." I smirk, pleased with my goading and her reaction.

"Charming," she says, annoyed. "I happen to be well-versed with the English language."

"That's astonishing, considering earlier I caught you openly gawking at me." I scan her face and lean into her. Fuck she smells good. My voice drops to a sensual tone of its own accord. "Pink lips parted, beautiful hazel eyes locked onto my chest, drooling as if I were a piece of chocolate." I pause to watch her reaction. "Yet not a single word flowed through that pretty, pouty mouth of yours." My eyes drop to her lips, as my brain begins to daydream about how it would feel to stroke them with my own.

"Shows how much you know. I prefer salty versus sweet," she says firmly.

I watch her. Damn she's feisty. Not at all what I expected. Not the sweet girl I read about in the dossier the council provided.

"Yeah, I can see that sweet isn't your thing, sweetheart."

"I have a name, and it's not sweetheart," she snaps.

She's so damn cute all riled up. "What would that name be?" I ask, already knowing.

"Eve Collins," she offers.

"Eve," I say, dropping my voice to a husky tone. I love the way her name rolls off my tongue. I'm watching her process my use of her name and realization kicks in with me. Damn, they named her Eve. That's just fucking perfect. "Eve," I repeat while understanding sinks in. "Without doubt, a suitable name for you."

"Meaning?" she asks tersely.

"Wasn't Eve the mother of mankind? Of course, she was also seen as weak, allowing evil to succeed in tempting her to the forbidden," I challenge, wondering why she isn't making the connection.

"Are you implying that I'm weak?" she asks.

I just study her, confused as to why she isn't following the conversation. Then she comes at me again, catching me completely off guard.

"I can assure you that's not the case," Eve says. "As a matter of fact, I could punch you right now and you'd be seeing stars for weeks followed by a plastic surgeon to reset your nose, pretty boy," she threatens.

This throws me off. She's spirited and aggressive. I laugh, throwing my hands up in mock surrender. "There's no need for threats of physical harm, Eve." I just stare at her. I can't stop, because holy shit, she's beautiful. My heart is actually jumping in my chest.

All of a sudden it dawns on me while I get lost in the hazel layers of her round, eyes—she has no clue. No idea about who she is, what we are, or what's about to happen to her life. Damn. For a second, I almost feel sorry for her.

"Your lack of knowledge with regard to your name means nothing," I say casually, trying to calm her down. She isn't yet ready to be enlightened. I shouldn't have made contact.

"I don't think this is working," she says, motioning between us.

I just smirk, she's right. It's not. It can't ever work. "Do we need couples therapy already?" I throw out to see if she'll get flustered again. I just want to see that pink hue once more before I walk away from her and protect her from a distance.

She exhales. "That's not what I meant."

I lean into her personal space one last time to inhale her vanilla-coconut scent.

"Would you please stop? I can't think with you in my personal space," she mumbles.

"I make you nervous?" I ask. I'm seriously curious about her reaction to me. Is it the protector bond, or something more?

"Ah, no. Far from it," she says. I don't believe her.

"Your unconvincing tone says different," I retort.

Before I can say anything else, I see McKenna approaching us from behind Eve's shoulder. Shit. I need to walk away before she gives Eve a hard time, and I never hear the end of how I broke the rules and made contact with the divine secret I was sworn to protect.

"As delightful as this conversation has been with you, I have somewhere I need to be. Try not to walk into anyone or anything." With difficulty, I walk away.

"Whatever," she mutters and then calls me an ass, stopping me in my tracks.

Damn, I think I just fell in love with Eve Collins. Fuck it. Once more, I tell myself, just to get that blush going. I turn back to her and stalk at her.

"Tsk. Name calling is very unbecoming of you, Eve. Perhaps, you should consider your choice of words within the English language with more care when conversing with others," I chastise.

She just glares at me, and there is that pink hue that I like so goddamn much.

"I'll be anticipating your retort, siren. I'm sure it will be enlightening." With that, I walk away. I know she's staring at my ass and fuck if I don't like it.

~**~

Gage

I stare at the fire pushing aside the darkness that seeps in at this time of day. The dreams, the memories, they all flood back at night, haunting me. I take a hit off my cigarette and wash it down with the brandy trying to numb the emptiness before returning my gaze to the flickering fire.

Without warning, I feel a presence. I turn in confusion. What the hell? Eve's just standing there with a look of lost confusion as I take her in.

"Eve?" I question, wondering where the hell she came from and why she's just standing in my loft, in the middle of the night, in her pajamas. Damn she's stunning.

"Gage, nice to see you again." She smiles awkwardly.

Is she seriously talking to me like we just bumped into one another at the market? Out of instinct, I scan my apartment, looking for danger. Is this a set up?

"What are you doing here?" I ask her while assessing the situation.

"Um, where is here exactly?"

"Here is in my home, in the heart of the Marais area of Paris," I answer, bewildered. Is she playing dumb, or does she really have no idea what's happening.

Eve smiles uncomfortably. "I see."

I'm taken aback. "You see? How did you get into my loft, Eve? Is your protector with you?" I watch her, waiting. The St. Michaels know better than to show up unannounced.

"No. I realize this is going to sound crazy but I'm not sure how I got here," she answers.

What the hell? She's right, it does sound crazy. She doesn't know how she got here? I turn back to the fire and flick my cigarette into it. For fucks sake, they haven't taught her anything. It's like leaving a cute bunny, with long amazing legs, in the meadow and waiting for the lions to pounce on her.

When I turn back around, Eve's sitting on my couch making herself at home. Her eyes are closed so I flash in front of her, knowing she didn't hear me. All the times I've been near her, I've never fully realized just how breathtaking she is. I study her features bathed in the fire's amber light for a moment.

"What the hell are you doing?" she shouts and pulls away, causing me to laugh.

"Funny, that's actually my question for you." I swallow my brandy and scold myself for my lack of manners. "Can I get you a drink, love?"

Eve shakes her head. "No, thank you," she answers and starts to relax.

I sit in the chair across from her, because I'm uncomfortable. She seems at ease in my personal space. I don't like women in my home, let alone, in my personal life. Especially this one.

"Well?" I question.

"Well, what?" she repeats back. Cute. She's a bit strong-willed. I like that about her.

"What are you doing here, Eve?" I ask again. She seriously has no clue. Hell, they're keeping her in the damn dark. Then again, secrets are typical of the St. Michael clan.

She rolls her eyes. "I'm not sure. One minute I was sleeping in my bed at my aunt's house and the next I was looking out your rather large, picturesque windows of Paris."

Interesting. "My guess is you're either dream walking or astral projecting. Most likely, you're astral projecting. You don't know that you're doing it?" I ask because I'm not so sure I believe her. I don't trust easily these days, especially anyone tied to The London Clan.

"Why are you convinced I'm not dream walking?"

I clear my throat in annoyance with her lack of knowledge. Is no one planning to enlighten this girl? Her lack of understanding is going to get her killed.

"Dream walking is when you enter someone's mind, intrinsically manifesting in some form in a dream. Normally, it's used as a way to communicate with that person. Whoever initiates the dream walk can manipulate it to their will. Some even trap themselves in their own dream. The fact that you're here and I'm not in a sleep state signifies that you're able to travel outside your physical body which is astral projection," I answer. Why I am the one providing her this information is lost on me.

"So am I really here with you?" Eve asks, confused.

"Yes and no. Your body is still in your bed at your aunt's but for whatever reason, you've subliminally sought me out." I'm curious as to why she did seek me out. Experience suggests I should turn her over to Deacon, immediately. However, I'm fascinated by her innocent nature, so I won't, at least not tonight. Besides, her physical body isn't near her.

"No offense but I wasn't even thinking about you tonight," Eve answers and I laugh internally. She has no idea that she had to be thinking of me on some level in order to project to me. The real question is why.

I decide to push my luck and lean into her space. "Actually, love, your subconscious was thinking of me. It's the only way you'd be able to project to me." She blushes and then begins to look around my home, trying to divert the uncomfortable attention.

"So you live in Paris?"

I smile and sit back in my chair. "When not in Massachusetts, yes."

"You just fly back and forth?"

I laugh internally, wondering if they've told her about our wings. "Something like that."

"Your home is very...grey. You like concrete?"

I never really thought about it. It's a loft. "I'm a gargoyle. I prefer dark, cool, stone-like places," I answer not giving her the full truth.

"So is your stone concrete?" Eve queries.

"Hematite. I see The London Clan is finally providing full gargoyle disclosure to you."

"As I said, I believe I have all the facts now," Eve states. Poor girl has absolutely no fucking clue. She's blindly placing her trust in them.

"Hardly, especially noted by your lack of knowledge regarding dream walking and astral projection."

"So, this visit has been a blast. If you would be so kind as to instruct me how to get back to my body, that would peachy." Eve is getting annoyed.

I have to laugh. She's adorably in the dark. "It's normally done intuitively. I can't send you. You pull yourself back once whatever it is you need has been taken care of. Since you're still here with me, you obviously still have needs when it comes to me," I offer seductively to push her buttons a bit. For some reason, I'm starting to enjoy making her feel nervousness. I find her company interesting and my reactions to her, even more so.

"So you're saying I'm having an out of body experience near you because of unfinished business or something?" Eve inquires.

Ah hell, she's so innocent. "Most women say they have an out of body experience with me. Rest assured, love, I always finish my business."

She rolls her eyes. "You know what I am saying. So I can send myself back?"

"Yes, you've astral projected yourself here. You should be able to do it to return."

There's a harsh knock at my front door. I smile internally and just stare at Eve, unmoving. They've interrupted my evening. A few moments won't kill the Archangel on the other side of it.
Read the rest of Eve's story in Revelation by Randi Cooley Wilson.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Randi Cooley Wilson was born and raised in Massachusetts where she attended Bridgewater State University and graduated with a degree in Communication Studies. After graduation, she moved to California where she lived happily bathed in sunshine and warm weather for fifteen years. She recently moved back to Massachusetts with her husband and daughter. You can reach her via Twitter: @R_CooleyWilson or at www.randicooleywilson.com.

# Riley's First Kill

## A young adult paranormal romance by Sharon Rose Mayes

"Riley, where were you this afternoon?" My mom asked me as I worked on my homework at the bar in our kitchen.

I glanced up at her but didn't look her in the eyes. I knew she knew.

"Where were you," She asked again when I didn't answer.

I looked back down at my math paper that was filled with basic equations and geometric symbols. "With friends," I told her and swallowed, "At the library."

She sighed, "Riley, you were supposed to be in training today."

"I know," I looked at her, "But I go every day," I shrugged, "Lucy and Karen wanted to hang out with me today. So I did that instead."

"I understand how you feel, and how you would rather have fun. But this is important. Taylor, Sam and the boys will depend on you one day."

"I'm thirteen, I just want to do what all of my friends do," I threw my pencil down onto the bar.

"You didn't even tell anyone where you were at." She folded her arms over her chest, covering up whatever band logo was on the t-shirt she was wearing. "I only found out because Phillip came by my office this afternoon to make sure you were okay."

"So," I looked at the blue kitchen wall behind her, "It's my business."

"Young lady," She said taking on an angry tone that I had hardly ever heard come out of her mouth, "what you do, is my business."

It got my attention.

"From now on, I will pick you up from school and personally and take you to all of your lessons."

"But," I started to protest.

She shook her head, her long dark hair flowing around her shoulders, "No more buts."

"I'll just leave," I said because I felt as if she was treating me unfairly.

"I'm serious," she said.

"I just want to hang out with my friends."

"Only when I say that you can."

"It's not fair!" I screamed at her. "I just want to do normal stuff. No more weapons training, no more fighting."

"I'm sorry," She said with a remorseful look in her eyes, but she kept her face straight, "life's not fair. Believe me, and you have an important job to do in the future. And your team is going to need you to be prepared."

"Vampires are probably not even real."

"I wish they weren't," Was the only thing that she said.

"Go to your room, and get some sleep," She told me, "Don't forget that I will be picking you up from school tomorrow."

"You're so mean."

"Just go to bed," she said calmly as she cleaned up a pizza box from the dinner we had just eaten.

I was too wound up, angry, emotional to just listen to her, "I'm going to go find my dad," I told her, "and live with him." I stood from my stool.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said, "just sleep this off."

And I knew I was being ridiculous, but I couldn't control myself. I didn't even know the man and even if he was alive or not.

"I don't care," I said, "he would let me have fun and have friends," Tears were now streaking my cheeks.

"Riley, just calm down and go to bed," she rubbed her temples, "we will talk about this when you are calm."

"No," I shook my head, in my mind there was no going back, "I'm leaving." I told her and ran for the back door.

"Riley," My mom shouted.

But I was faster than and quickly made it around our house.

I started running down the sidewalk that as barely lit up from the street lights. I had no idea where I was going. It was autumn, so the air was getting chilly in the evenings. I only had on a t-shirt and shorts that I had worn to school that day.

Two or three streets away from our street I made it to a park. It was a large park full of jungle gyms and swings where all of the neighborhood mothers would gather in the afternoons with their young children. When I was younger my mother would bring me here to play when she wasn't working.

"Crap," I stumbled over a discarded stick while walking through the park. Kids had probably left it after having a play sword fight.

Over at the swings I sat down and put my face in my hands. I tried to clean up the tear streaks that were now dry on my face.

The swing I sat on swayed back and forth as I shivered. I had no idea what I was going to do. At thirteen, years old I had run away from home and yelled at my mother.

We never fought, and now she would probably never let me go back.

"What's a little lady like you doing out here all alone in a place like this?" A distinctly voice cut through my thoughts.

The voice caused me to almost jump out of my skin. I looked up to find a young man standing a few front of me.

"I'm sorry," he said, and he wore a smile that gave me chills on his face.

"Excuse me," I said and slowly stood, "I'm just going home."

"Would you like a ride home?"

"Uh no thanks," I said and slowly backed around the swing that I had been seated on.

"I insist," he told me holding his hand out.

He was handsome with closely cropped blonde hair and wild brown eyes. He looked safe enough, but there was just something about him that made me uneasy.

I shook my head and turned away and started running in the direction of my home.

He cursed in frustration, and I could hear him chasing after me.

"Help me," I screamed to anyone that could hear me. "Help me."

"Oomph," I felt the impact of the man's body colliding with my back. We rolled across the damp dew covered grass of the park until we stopped rolling with the man on top of me.

He had me pinned down, and I was unable to move my arms.

"Please," I said, "let me go."

He laughed.

"My mom is going to be looking for me."

He laughed even harder, "little girls in the park at night never have anyone looking for them," He said.

My eyes widened.

"I think it's time for a little snack."

And then I saw it, his canine teeth were extended to points. He was a vampire.

"No, no," I started thrashing around as hard as I could.

"Stop moving around," he said and slammed my back harder into the hard ground.

"Help!" I screamed, "Help!" I thrashed my head back and forth while he tried to expose my neck.

His sharps glistening fangs scraped my neck.

"Ouch," I complained but I had stopped him from biting me.

He tried again.

Something inside of me snapped.

I wasn't going to be his food.

This is what I had been training for my whole life.

Instinct kicked in, and I stopped all movements.

It surprised the teenage vampire on top of me, and he looked confused. I guess he was used to playing with his food.

Running on pure instinct, I brought my knee up as hard as I could.

"Little bitch," he hissed as he rolled off of me.

Without even thinking I jumped to my feet and started running through the park.

I ran as fast as I could and struggled to run across the park away from the vampire whose footsteps weren't far behind me. I was always the fastest in my group, but I didn't think I could outrun a vampire.

"Oomph," I stumbled over the same branch from earlier. Oh crap, I slipped down onto my knees. He was right behind me now. Stupid branch.

Branch?

Stake.

My training kicked in and picked up the stick.

"You won't get away, little girl," he snickered.

"No," I said lowly.

"No, what?" He asked a smile forming on his face his fangs shining in the moonlight shining throughout the park.

I didn't say anything and just lunged at him, my makeshift stake raised into the air.

He jumped back taken by surprise. I continued my assault on him, slashing back and forth.

"Grrr," he growled at me and tried to avoid my weapon.

I decided to play the same game I had played before with him, and I raised my foot up and kicked him between his legs again.

He fell down onto his knees.

I raised the stake, and he looked up at me aware of what I was about to do.

With no thought of the fear in his eyes, I brought my stake down like I had been taught.

With a quick strike, it went through his chest and penetrated his heart.

I watched as the light went out of his eyes.

"Oh my god," I swallowed and brought my hands up to my mouth in shock.

His body fell over to the ground, and I watched as it seem to age in minutes before it was blowing away in the light night breeze.

Tears started streaming down my cheeks, I had killed someone. No, I corrected myself. Not someone. Something. It was a vampire.

Not even an hour earlier I had been cursing them and claiming to my mother that they didn't even exist.

Now I knew. They were extremely real.

"Riley," I could hear someone shouting in the distance.

"Riley," another voice shouted, I recognized as my mother.

"Over here," I yelled back. My arms wrapped around my body while I shivered in the chilly night air.

Within moments, my mom and Phillip my trainer were standing beside me.

"What happened?' my mom said when she saw my face.

"I, uh, I," I threw my arms around her. "I killed one."

"Oh sweetie," she said.

Phillip patted me on the shoulder and looked at the area where the vampire's body had been. All that remained was a light dusting of ash on the grass and the stick that I had used to kill him.

"Are you okay?" She asked me wiping the tears from my eyes.

I nodded, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She held my face in her hands, "we were bound to have a fight like that sooner or later." She looked over at the spot on the ground, "it must have been scary for you."

"I'm okay."

"Don't brush it off like that," she said looking at me again, "you were all alone and had to face your first vampire."

"Really," I told her even though my stomach was still churning on the inside.

"Let's get you home and cleaned up," she said wrapping her arm around my shoulders, "I'm going to get her home, thanks for helping me find her," she told Phillip.

"You will be at training tomorrow," Phillip said.

"Yes, sir," I told him as my mother led me away.
Read the rest of Riley's story in Blood Pact by Sharon Rose Mayes

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sharon lives in Lufkin, Texas with her two sons. She chronicles her daily life at her personal blog Not Your Mom Blog and has been active in the blogosphere for seven years. When she is not chasing her kids and playing soccer mom she writes and dreams of all of the places she can't wait to travel. Visit her at www.sharonrosemayes.com or on Twitter @sharonrose

# Step, Step, Step

## A new adult contemporary romance by Susan Burdorf

Alison Petway stepped inside the dance studio and wondered, for the thousandth time, why her best friend, Evie, ever thought she would want to do this. She would have run her hands through her hair, but the newly done braids, with their pretty white beads on the ends made it impossible. The hairdo had been a gift from Evie, too. Her brown eyes teared up at the thought of what Evie was doing to help her get over this divorce. She didn't deserve a friend like that. She could never repay her for the thoughtfulness, but still, she had to wonder if her friend had gone mad.

What about me ever made her think this was a good idea? Alison thought as she walked to the back of the room toward the registration desk. At twenty four she had never thought to step foot in a dance studio, and especially not one that specialized in this type of exercise, but Evie had insisted she give a try.

Behind the waist high, horseshoe shaped desk stood a woman, tall and svelte without an ounce of fat on her slender frame which was encased in a tight black leotard. Her blond hair was pulled off her face in a tight bun from which a few tendrils of hair hung down the sides of her face. She was twirling one of the strands while talking to a shorter, stockier woman, also dressed in a tight black leotard that showed a good figure as well. Her thighs looked powerful, and Alison couldn't see an ounce of fat on her even though she was heavier than the other woman.

"Hi, can I help you?" asked the woman behind the desk. Her smile was genuine, warm and welcoming. It set Alison's mind at ease almost immediately.

"I can do this," Alison encouraged herself, "it is only one class and then I can go and never come back and Evie will be proud of me for trying it, at least. That is, after all, all she asked me to do."

"I'm Alison, Alison Petway," she said as she made her way to the two of them.

"Okay, then, I will talk to you later Sherry," said the other woman as she moved off. She picked up a towel and wiped the sweat off her face as she wandered to the other end of the room. Fiddling with her gym bag she watched as Alison and Sherry faced each other. Giving Alison an encouraging smile she nodded and walked through a curtain to the back room where Alison guessed the changing rooms were.

Alison looked around the clean gym that smelled of freshly squeezed oranges and carried a slight tinge of sweat that was not unpleasant at all. It smelled like how she had expected it to, but the layout was slightly different than she had expected.

That is when Alison gulped. Gleaming in front of her, and how she had missed them when she had first entered she had no idea, but blamed it on her nervousness, were eight shiny brassy looking poles. Anchored to the floor and covered with a dark grey felt matting that looked like a tree skirt, they reached up, up, up into the ceiling where they were anchored by a brass colored cup and some screws. Their thin pencil-like tube shape made her wonder how they could ever hold up anyone, let alone her 200 pounds...okay, 210 pounds.

And the nervousness returned full force. This was a mistake. A very large mistake. She needed to leave immediately. She would find a way to refund the fee her friend had paid on the discount shopping site she had purchased the trial offer from, but there was no way those poles would support her...um...ample and lush form.

Shaking her head she started to turn away, but stopped when the woman at the registration desk laughed softly and said, "Kind of intimidating, aren't they?"

Alison, in spite of her resolve to beat a hasty, yet dignified retreat, just nodded. Her eyes wide, Alison took in the sight of all those poles reflected in the mirrors that lined two of the walls.

Thank God the front windows were blacked out so no one could see her make a fool of herself. And also, thanking whatever heavenly providence had intervened, she was grateful that no one else was in the room to see her make a fool of herself.

Because, somewhere between the "hello no," she had just been thinking, and the kindness and understanding in the eyes of the woman in front of her, she decided to stay and give it a go.

Pole dancing couldn't be all that hard, and her friend was right, judging by the toned and fit shapes of the two women she had met so far, she could probably benefit from a little toning and she might as well start now.

Since her husband of two years, Rudolph the Mattress King, had left her six months ago for a younger, firmer woman, she had been moping around, eating anything that came within grasping distance, and gaining weight and proving him right. She was undesirable as she was. Since skydiving was out—she had a deathly fear of flying—it looked like pole dancing would be her deliverance.

She could only hope the poles were sturdier than they looked.

The woman at the counter held out her hand and introduced herself.

"Hello, my name is Sherry and I want to welcome you to "Poles Apart", yeah, I know it is a little corny, but I like it..." she chuckled at what Alison assumed was a private joke. Alison raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Okay, so let's see, I think I have you down for three private lessons, right?" Sherry tapped the book in front of her.

Alison blinked in confusion, "I think there is some mistake. My friend, Evie, got me this as a gift and I am pretty sure she told me it was only good for one lesson, kind of like a trial..." Alison's voice faded as Sherry wrinkled her brow and looked down again.

"Oh, yes, I remember now," Sherry snapped her finger and chuckled, "your friend purchased one of those discounts we put on that internet shopping site, but then when she called to redeem it she said that she wanted two other visits and paid for those, also. I gave her the discounted price by the way, because she felt you would not ever go if you thought she had paid full price."

Alison grinned in spite of herself, Evie knew her so well. Nothing ever got by her. She was surprised Evie wasn't hiding somewhere in the building just to make sure she did it.

Alison fought back the tears that evidence of Evie's love and support through everything that had been going on the last six months had brought out in her. What did she ever do to deserve such a wonderful friend?

"I'm sorry," Alison said, realizing that Sherry had asked her something.

"I asked if you are ready to start or do you need to change?"

Sherry looked at Alison who had come dressed casually in black leggings and a large printed tank top.

"Um, this is it," Alison said pointing to herself. "Am I dressed okay?"

"Are you comfortable?" Asked Sherry as she moved out from behind the desk. On her feet Alison noticed the other woman was wearing a stretchy sock that left her toes and heels bare like the athletic brace that you wore when your ankles hurt. Alison made a mental note to pick up some of those to wear, all she had with her were a pair of white socks, but noticing that both women had worn those kinds of socks she thought she would need those too.

"That is fine, then," said Sherry. She squeezed Alison's arm reassuringly, and Alison relaxed. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

An hour later, sweaty and sore, Alison thought better of her first impression. This was hard work! Just the warm up exercises had exhausted her. Sherry had taken her through the paces of warming up every part of her body and for thirty minutes she did jumping jacks, and scissor kicks, and sit ups and pushups until she felt her body would explode from all the torture.

"Okay," Sherry said with a wide smile, "you did great, Alison. Why don't you get some refreshments? There is lemon water or cucumber water on the table over there. Save the coffee for afterward," she cautioned as Alison automatically reached for the hot beverage.

Blushing with embarrassment she got the water and poured a large glass which she sipped slowly as Sherry had instructed her to do. It did feel good going down and within minutes she could feel the sweat starting to ease and her body to stiffen, but not too uncomfortably.

"Okay, ready for the next step?" Sherry asked. She was holding one of the poles with her hands slightly above her head and her hips and legs aligned with the pole.

"This is a basic move, one that all beginners need to learn. Why don't you grab that pole across from me and watch how we do it?"

Alison nodded and made her way to the suggested spot. She watched as Sherry positioned herself, breathed deeply, closed her eyes as if centering herself and lifted her body up into a position where she was gripping the pole while her legs were held straight out in front of her in a pike position that Alison remembered from her diving days in high school.

Sherry held that position for a count of thirty and then lowered her legs to the ground, sliding her hands down the pole lovingly before grinning at Alison.

"That didn't look so hard, now did it?" Alison smiled back a little less enthusiastically than Sherry had.

"Now, why don't you try it?" Sherry walked over to Alison and helped position her hands.

"Ready?" Sherry asked, looking Alison straight in the eyes. "You can do it," she said to Alison, confidence rang out in her voice. "Just envision your body doing it."

Alison closed her eyes, breathed deeply and willed her body into the position she had just witnessed Sherry achieve. And for just a second, one tiny little second, her body obeyed and leaped off the ground, but then gravity took over and she fell to the floor.

"That is okay, Alison," Sherry said gripping her hand and pulling her up. Alison was shocked at how strong Sherry was. For someone so petite she had a grip like a vise, and Alison winced in pain when Sherry released her hand.

Sherry looked up at the clock as the front door opened and a couple of women came in laughing and playfully pushing each other as they joked and chatted. Alison envied them their slender forms and swinging ponytails.

She thought back to all the wigs she used to wear before she was married to Rudolph and remembered her own once slender body with regret. Someday, maybe today, she was going to work to get back to that. And this pole was the start of that resolve. She would not let Rudolph take from her the only thing she had left, her self-respect.

"So," Sherry said when Alison joined her at the front desk, the other women who had just came in smiled at her without any rancor. They did not seem to mind that she probably weighed twice what they did, as a matter of fact one of them nodded to her encouragingly.

"Welcome," said one of the women. "I am Leila, and how did you like your first lesson?"

"How did you know...?" Alison started to ask before being interrupted.

"Oh, I was here when your friend, Evie is it?" She continued speaking when Alison nodded, "Evie came in and got your class set up. Are you coming back? I hope you will. See that picture there?"

She pointed behind the desk where pictures of women of various shapes, sizes, and colors were posted. In every one of them the women were smiling and in some they had the thumbs up sign going.

"That's me, well, it used to be me," said Leila with a grin.

Alison looked at her in surprise. The picture she pointed to showed a shy looking girl with about forty extra pounds from the girl who stood before her.

"And that was me," said the other girl, a pretty Asian girl with long black hair and a devilish smile. She looked about twenty or so pounds lighter now than the girl in the picture did, but what really impressed Alison was how outgoing she appeared now, compared to the shy girl in the picture.

"Okay, girls, don't scare her away," Sherry said laughing as she shooed them to the back. "Your class starts in ten minutes, you better get ready."

"Yes, Ma'am," said Leila with a wink at Alison she saluted Sherry before hurrying to the back room with the Asian girl.

Sherry chuckled and turned back to Alison. "Okay, so do you want to schedule your next lesson?"

"I'm not too sure about that..." Alison said rubbing her behind which was sore and was certain would have a huge bruise on it before long.

"Falls are part of any recovery," Sherry said kindly, "you cannot let a little pain stop you from reaching your goals."

Sherry paused, biting her lower lip as she considered her next words, "Alison, don't be mad, but Evie told me a little bit about your circumstances."

Alison wasn't surprised. Evie was her biggest supporter, but she was also a horrible gossip. Alison just hoped she hadn't told her everything. There were some things best left buried.

"I hope you know that not one of us here is without a story of our own just as tragic in its own way as yours is. We always support and encourage here, it is my mantra. If you want a pity-party this is not the place to be."

This last was said with kindness and delivered in a voice that had slipped into a soft southern drawl that took the sting from the words.

Alison appreciated the kick in the pants, she was beyond the pity-party stage herself. She looked at Sherry and straightened her shoulders, this was the easiest decision she had ever made.

"So, what does next Saturday morning look like?" Alison asked Sherry.

Sherry's smile could have lit up the darkest night because it sure lit up the darkness that had been hovering in Alison's heart, between the two of them settled on one more lone student class at 8am the next Saturday and then Sherry said the dreaded words.

"Now Alison, we need to talk about a few things before we proceed with any more classes."

Sherry came around the desk and pulled on Alison's arm, bending it until her palm faced Sherry and the wrist was pointed up.

"We have to increase your wrist and ankle strength. If I give you some suggested exercises and a diet plan, will you follow until the end of the lessons? They will help you in more ways than just pole dancing..."

Alison found herself nodding. She had avoided the word "diet" for a long time, finding that blaming her weight for Rudy's leaving her took some of the sting of the guilt she felt for her lack of self-confidence that had helped destroy her marriage. What man wanted to be married to a woman with her problems? Between weight, lack of self-esteem and the hopelessness that had come with the doctor's announcement that she would never have children, their marriage had been doomed almost from the start. She could hardly blame Rudy from looking elsewhere for that happy life he had envisioned for himself.

After a few more minutes of conversation Sherry handed out a diet plan and exercise suggestions. Alison nodded at everything Sherry said and read the diet plan over. It did not look so hard, she could do this.

Evie met her at the door to the Free Will Baptist Church and asked her how it had gone.

"Three lessons? What are you, some kind of sadist?" Alison started then laughed at Evie's apologetic expression.

"The woman said you really needed to try it more than once for it to have any effect..." she started to explain.

"It's okay," Alison said laughing and patting her best friend's arm, "I actually enjoyed all the pain."

"Hmmmm..." Evie said with a twinkle in her eye, "that worries me a little."

"Ladies," said a deep voice from behind them.

Both women turned in shock when Rudy walked by them with his mistress, Sadie Grover, on his arm.

Sadie shot Alison a smug look and gripped Rudy's arm tighter. She was already pregnant Alison had heard last week and her dress, tight and a bright red like a hooker's lips, showed a small baby bump in front.

Alison's good mood faded away as she watched her ex-husband and the woman who had broken up their marriage sashay into the church and greet her friends as if she were not there.

"Hey," Evie said with a concerned look on her face, "remember this, 'once a cheater, always a cheater'...do you think for one minute either one of them will be happy? She just wants his money, and he just wants...well, he is a man, we all KNOW what he wants."

"Good riddance to bad rubbish, I know..." Alison sighed, regret still in her voice. She wasn't sure if it was the loss of her husband that bothered the most, or the loss of the dream that made it worse. She could never be a mother, never know the joy of having a child in her arms that she had made.

And in the middle of that melancholy thought she misstepped as she walked into the church and nearly knocked down a man standing in the doorway talking to the preacher.

She felt a strong hand on her arm keeping her from falling.

"Are you okay, miss?" his voice was gentle and his brown eyes worried about her as he held her arm a little longer than he needed to.

"Oh...ummm...yes, I'm okay. Thank you..." Alison found herself lost in the beautiful smile and soulful eyes of her rescuer.

"Oh, Alison," said the preacher as he smiled at her, "let me introduce you to my cousin, Clarence Gilliam. Clarence just moved to town this week. He is opening a law office on Main Street this week. I wonder if it wouldn't be too much of an imposition, if you could possibly show him around, don't you still work for the real estate office?"

Alison nodded, Preacher Gilliam knew very well that she was a real estate agent. She sensed a set up here and looked back at Evie who returned her look with an innocent one of her own.

"I would love to. Do you know what part of town you and your wife would like to live in?"

"Oh, I'm not married," he said laughing pleasantly as he walked into the church with Alison and Evie. Evie stayed behind them and when Alison slipped into her usual pew she noticed Evie sat behind her and Clarence sat down next to her.

Turning to look at Evie she was not surprised to see her friend engrossed in the hymnal as the organist began playing the first song. Clarence drew her attention away before she could speak to Evie. He tapped her arm and pointed to the hymnals in front of her in the pocket they rested in. She reached in to get one for him. As she handed it to him he brushed her hand and the warmth his touch brought to her with her on her bare skin was pleasant and unexpected.

Looking to the front as the preacher invited the congregation to stand she noticed Rudy looking back at her with confusion. Clarence leaned over and whispered something in her ear that made her smile and Rudy's expression darkened before Sadie, catching sight of him looking at Alison, tugged on his arm and put her hand protectively over her gravid belly.

They were lost to her vision as Alison lost herself in the music as she always did. One thing she had never lost her desire for was singing. She loved to sing and wasn't ashamed to let others know it.

Alison was pleased when Clarence's deep bass joined her soft soprano as she sang the opening hymn.

After church as they exited Clarence made arrangements with her to meet to look for a house. Already her mind was on several homes she thought he might like and one, in particular, that was still on the market was one she thought would be perfect for him. It was one she had always hoped she and Rudy could purchase, but he had not wanted to live in that part of town and had told her no, in no uncertain terms would he ever live there. It was the perfect house for a family with its wraparound porch, large fenced in front yard, four bedrooms and large backyard with a tree and a swing just waiting for a child to enjoy.

The owners, an elderly couple, had put it on the market a year ago and then mysteriously withdrew it from sale. But Alison had noticed just last week that it was back for sale. She had wanted to go see it anyway.

Making a mental note she decided to call to set up an appointment to take Clarence there first. After a few minutes more of conversation with some other members of the church, Alison made her way to the parking lot.

When she reached her car she was disappointed to see Rudy leaning against it. Looking around she did not see Sadie anywhere. Wondering what Rudy was up to she made her way reluctantly to the car. Taking out her keys she clicked the unlock as a hint to him that she had no time to talk.

"Alison," Rudy said leaning away from the car as she approached.

"Rudy," Alison stopped a good six feet from him and looked around the parking lot. Shockingly she realized no one was there, she was alone with Rudy. Turning she started to make her way back toward the church when Rudy, hurrying behind her, caught up to her. Taking her by the arm roughly he forced her to stop.

"Let me go," Alison said, her voice cold hoping he would get the hint.

"Alison," he spoke softly, rubbing her arm where he held it firmly in his grip, "now, honey, don't be like this."

"Don't be like, what?" Alison asked him as she jerked her arm away.

"We can still be friends, can't we?" he was whining now.

Alison looked at him in disbelief. What game was he playing at, now? He was the one who left her for that...that...woman...and yet here he was acting like he wanted to be with her again. What was he up to?

"Where's Sadie?" she asked him, stepping away.

She would have walked back to the church but he was blocking her from leaving. Flanking her on both sides were cars, and he was standing between her and the entrance to the building. She could step back and around the cars to get away if she needed to, but she did not imagine Rudy was much of a threat right now.

"She went home, she isn't feeling well," Rudy grimaced, "this baby thing may not have been such a brilliant idea on my part." He confessed, and Alison had a feeling she was about to find out more than she wanted to about the relationship between Sadie and Rudy.

"Well, you wanted a family," Alison looked up the path hopefully, but no one was coming yet.

"Yeah, well, it is really just not what I expected," Rudy finished lamely.

"Oh? Sorry to hear that. If you will excuse me, Rudy, I have to go find Evie."

Rudy didn't move.

"Who was that you were sitting with in church today?" Rudy finally blurted out.

For a minute Alison was confused, what difference did it make to Rudy who she sat with?

"Not that it is any of your business, but that was the preacher's cousin, and he is looking to buy a house. I am a real estate agent you know."

"Oh, yeah," Rudy still didn't move.

"I don't like him," Rudy said as he moved closer to Alison, "he seems shifty to me."

"Seriously?!" Alison said laughing, "you have the nerve to talk about someone being 'shifty' after what you did?"

"That was different," Rudy said sidling closer to her, Alison could smell his cologne, and for just a moment she was back in time, back to when they were together.

And that was when Rudy made his move, "Come on, baby, you know you want me back. I see how you look at me. We could make it work again," and he leaned over so close that she could smell Sadie's perfume on him, and before she could protest, he grabbed her and pulled her closer and began kissing her. Big, wet, sloppy kisses that disgusted and repulsed her instead of exciting her.

Pushing him away she tried to release his hold on her, but he suddenly seemed to have grown eight arms because every time she loosened one grip he grabbed her someplace else.

"Stop it!" She gasped out.

And then, suddenly as if a light had been switched off, he was off her and lying on the ground. Straddling his prone body was Clarence. He wore a murderous expression and behind him several other parishioners were staring at her and Rudy with shocked expressions.

Alison straightened her clothes and closed her eyes. A second later Clarence was holding her up and asking if she was okay.

She felt the hardness of the parking lot beneath her, and the softness of Clarence's comforting arms around her as he fanned her with something. She opened her eyes and looked up at him in consternation.

"Well, this is a little embarrassing," Alison said with a nervous giggle as she accepted his help up. He was stronger than his slight frame had made him appear as he easily lifted her from the ground to a standing position.

Rudy was nowhere to be seen.

"Are you okay, sugar?" said Evie as she pushed Clarence out of the way to hug her.

"I am now," Alison said with a quiver. She looked gratefully at Clarence who returned her smile with a brilliant one of his own.

"Preacher is talking to Rudy right now. I hope he is telling him to stay away from church for a while. The nerve of him, attacking you like that! And he has a pregnant wife at home who needs him!"

"Okay, well, I will see you tomorrow then?" Clarence asked as Evie led Alison away.

Alison looked at him with confusion...oh, yes, the house.

"Yes, I am looking forward to it. And thank you," Alison said as Evie opened the car door and helped Alison in.

"Just call me your knight in shining armor," he said with a courtly bow, "rescuing damsels in distress is my second job..."

Alison laughed and he joined in as she started the car and drove off with a jaunty wave.

She was thrilled to realize he was not disgusted by what he had witnessed. Instead, he wanted to see her—just as she was now—damaged and broken she was still a whole person in his eyes.

That interest gave her the confidence she needed to change.

And so, for the next week Alison followed the instructions Sherry had given her. She cleaned out her refrigerator and shopped for healthy food. She joined the local gym and started an exercise program to build up the strength in her arms and wrists as well as the rest of her body.

And it paid off. She felt her confidence rising, her weight dropping, and her love for life returning. Of course, spending time with Clarence didn't hurt any of that either.

They were visiting houses several times a week with a dinner afterward that they always ate in places that suited her diet. Alison was feeling more and more beautiful the more time she spent with Clarence.

The only disappointment had been the house she had wanted to show him had sold before they could visit it. She had driven by it on the way to another house in the neighborhood and had stopped to look at the sign with its large red SOLD letters on it.

After the third class Alison had found herself enjoying the classes so much that she decided to continue. She was now able to do several tricks on the pole and as the weight kept dropping off she found her strength made it possible for her to do more.

She always started her routines with the Step, Step, Step move to get her into the swing of things and found it was a good philosophy for her life. She was taking each change in her new world with a step in the right direction, a step into her new abilities with confidence and a step into the unknown without fear.

Rudy had not bothered her since his attempt to convince her to rekindle their sex life in his crude way, and kept a healthy distance from her in church.

About three months after starting her lessons Alison walked into the studio to see Sherry hanging up some banners and flyers.

"What is that for?" she asked as she set her bag down. She flexed her shoulders and put on her outfit to begin her classes.

"Oh, we are having a studio contest for a possible entry into the Regionals competition."

"Really, when are the try outs?"

"A month, you want to enter? They have a beginners' classification."

"Oh gosh, do you think I could?" Alison stopped her warm ups to look at Sherry with interest. It might be fun, even if she didn't do well, she could at least give it a go. She had already, between the diet suggestions, the exercises Sherry had suggested, and her workouts at the studio lost about forty pounds, with only around twenty more to get to her goal weight.

Sherry stopped to consider Alison's comments. "I think you could, but we would have to up the difficulty of some of your moves, the stuff you are doing now is pretty basic. We would have to add some higher moves..."

Alison gulped. The one thing they had shied away from was putting Alison any higher on the pole than she already was because of her fear of heights, Alison was afraid she wouldn't be able to do it and might hurt herself trying.

"I think you are ready to do it, Alison," Sherry said, "You have come so far already."

Alison nodded. It was true, she was already doing more than she had ever thought she might be able to do. She had wrestled with a lot of demons, both real and imagined, since starting this class. What was one more?

"But, you have to want to do it, Alison, or it will not be any fun. And if it is not fun, then you will not work at it the way you will need to. We will have to add a few more classes too, to help you and we will need to come up with a costume for you. Something glittery, I know you will hate that..." Sherry's eyes twinkled with merriment at that last comment. They both knew Alison was the glitter queen, and anything sparkly always caught her eye.

"I think I am going to do it!" Alison said.

Working hard over the next few weeks Alison found she was braver than she thought. The last practice class before the competition which was in two days, found her in the middle of an intricate move higher on the pole than she had ever been before. She was exhilarated at the freedom she felt as she moved and twisted into the pretzel shape she and Sherry had been working on. Then she made the mistake of looking down. She lost her grip as her vertigo set in, and she fell onto the floor, hard, onto her ankle which she heard pop.

"Alison!" Sherry rushed over and lifted her up from the floor and helped her to a chair at the other end of the room.

Alison groaned when Sherry touched the ankle and tried not to cry.

The door opened and in walked Clarence. Alison looked at him with such a pitiful look that he rushed to her side and picked her up, cradling her close he let her cry against his nice suit. Alison finally gulped her tears back and said that she was okay.

"I think she needs to see a doctor," Sherry told him. "I heard it pop from across the room so I know it has to hurt."

When they got to the emergency room they x-rayed then taped her ankle.

"Stay off it for a few days," the doctor told her when the x-rays came back, "It is not broken, so we will just leave the tape on it, but it will be swollen for a while. And pretty sore to walk on."

Alison, trying to keep the disappointment from her face, nodded at the doctor's words.

Several days off the ankle meant she would miss out on the competition. And she had worked so hard on it.

Clarence, sensing her mood, helped her out to his car without a word. He squeezed her arm when he set her in the car and closed the door. When he got into his side of the car he started the engine and then turned off the car.

"Have I told you lately how much I love you?" he said quietly not looking at her while he spoke.

"I know you are disappointed that you cannot compete this time, but there will be other chances, and I know you will do it when the time is right."

Alison let the tears fall at his kind words. The love he felt for her was returned tenfold by her to him and she was not sure she could say it.

But then, somehow she found the words, "I love you, too." She whispered.

And he took her in his arms, kissing her with such a depth of emotion that she wondered how she had ever thought Rudy was the man of her dreams, because it was obvious that Clarence was the one her heart had been waiting for.

When they finally left the hospital Clarence took the long way home. Holding her hand they drove in silence. Their proclamations of the love they felt for each all they needed to say for now.

They turned onto the street with the house she had wanted to sell to him and he pulled across the street from it. The sign in the front yard said SOLD and Alison sighed in regret.

"I wanted to sell that house to you, for your family."

"I know." Clarence smiled at her.

How had he known, Alison wondered. Then Evie popped into her head and she blessed her friend for her gossipy ways.

"I can't have children." Alison confessed.

"I know, and it doesn't matter to me," Clarence turned to her with a tiny glittering diamond in his hand, "I don't need a big family if I have you. Will you marry me?"

Alison looked from him to the ring in disbelief, she couldn't have children and he still wanted to marry her?

"Yes, Oh yes!" She found herself crying out as more tears fell. He put the ring on her finger, it caught the light in its many facets sending out a glittering rainbow to surround her.

"Now," said Clarence as he opened the car door, "do you want to see your new home?"

"What? You bought it? But how...?"

"I am a very good lawyer," Clarence said with a laugh as he leapt from the car and walked to the other side to help her out.

As he carried her across the threshold of their new house Alison marveled at the way of the world.

Step one, make a plan; step two, put that plan into motion; step three, let God do the rest.
Read more about these characters in Clementine, My Darling set to be released late 2014.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Susan Burdorf hails from the Nashville area of Tennessee where she can often be found walking the trails on the greenways, chasing her grandchildren, or looking for the next elusive story line! Releasing this year will be several books including A Cygnet's Tale, The Last Talisman, Summer Boy, and several more without firm release dates. Susan loves to hear from her fans and hopes they will come speak to her at any of her scheduled appearances. Visit her at www.facebook.com/susan.burdorf or on Twitter @susanburdorfauthor

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