tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42647907982584819872024-03-13T23:49:47.833-04:00Rachel Rawlings Author of Paranormal/Urban FantasyRachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-51415643082560056592019-07-01T09:27:00.003-04:002019-07-01T09:27:42.283-04:002019 Panel Lists and Early bird DiscountsWow! We are more than half way through the year folks, and you know what that means! My favorite book event of the year, HallowRead is getting closer! If you don't have your tickets yet, now's the time. Early Bird discounts are ending soon. Be sure to grab your spot and savings before it's too late!<br />
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And if the savings isn't reason enough to grab your tickets, check out these panels! More authors will be added to the panels as we get closer to the big day!<br />
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<b>Keep Calm And Steam On</b> - from airships to cogs and clogs, we cover the ins and outs of Steampunk with Victoria L. Scott, Anne Renwick, Katherine McIntyre and Michelle Schad<br />
<b>Origin Stories</b> - authors share how and why they took the road less traveled with Kira Decker, Susan Viemeister, Anne Renwick, Misty Simon, Elizabeth Kirke and Michelle Schad<br />
<b>That's A Novel Idea</b> - authors share the real life inspiration for some of their stories with Bryan Nowak, Susan Viemeister, Loni Lynne, Kim Alexander, Kira Decker, Katherine McIntyre and Misty Simon<br />
<b>I Love The Nightlife</b> - from Vampires to Werewolves, Ghosts to Ghouls, we cover all your favorite creatures that go bump in the night with R.A. Boyd, Rebecca Rivard, Rue Volley, Cat Miller, Shadow Leitner and Heather Elizabeth King<br />
<b>Just Like Heaven</b> - and ocassionally Hell, steamy demons and angels that are a cool drink ofwater will have you questioning which direction you really want to go with L.M. Pruitt, R.A. Boyd, Briana Michaels<br />
<b>Water And Wings</b> - froma hidden cove to a treasure trove these creatures went from rare sighting to totally mainstream with Rebecca Rivard, L.M. Pruitt, Julie Wetzel, Shadow Leitner, Kim Alexander and Andrew Grey<br />
<b>The Magic Word</b> - authors discuss everything from spells and charms to potions and plants with Rue Volley, Elizabeth Kirke and Rachel Rawlings<br />
<b>Keynote Speech</b> - The amazingly talented Sherrilyn Kenyon<br />
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Meet The Sponsors<br />
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<br />Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-19085972738286842452019-06-01T06:44:00.003-04:002019-06-01T06:44:34.457-04:00Better 'Ink TwiceI'm not ready to reveal the cover for this one yet, but it's gorgeous and I know you're going to love it as much as I do! Book two in the Touch Of Ink series is coming along - a little slower than I'd hoped but we're still on target for a 2019 release. I'm hoping by HallowRead. I'd love to see first run print editions sitting on my table for that event. Lol!<br />
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Adeline's got a long road ahead of her, going up against the Magistrate and taking down Winslow. Challenges in her magical life aren't all she'll face. There's trouble brewing in her personal life too! But no spoilers! I won't give any secrets away for anyone who hasn't read<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Ink-Over-Touch-Novel-ebook/dp/B07JJ42C55" target="_blank"> <span style="color: blue;">'Ink It Over</span></a><span style="color: blue;"> </span>yet.<br />
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Don't forget to grab you tickets for HallowRead 2019 this year. Looks like it's going to be a sellout with the amazing Sherrilyn Kenyon in the house! There's great sponsors, and panels! You do not want to miss out!</div>
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Oh, and sharing for a friend! <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Cursed-Key-Fantasy-Romance-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B07QLNG55C" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">The Cursed Key</span></a> is running a pre-order special you don't want to miss either. Just $0.99 for this New Adult Urban Fantasy! Grab a copy on sale while you cane!</div>
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<br />Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-92008453206858139542019-05-04T10:15:00.001-04:002019-06-01T06:30:05.329-04:00Rachel ReadsA new feature I added to my monthly newsletter is Rachel Reads. It's basically my TBR pile. There are so many great books out right now. There are days where I think I can't possibly read them all. But, like any good bibliophile, I am up for the challenge of trying! A few that are on my radar right now -<br />
<b><a href="http://www.patriciabriggs.com/books/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Patricia Briggs Storm Cursed</span></a></b> releases in a few days and I cannot wait. The Mercy Thompson series has been on my one click list forever!<br />
<b><a href="https://www.dannikadark.net/p/the-crossbreed-series.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Dannika Dark's Moonstruck</span></a></b> releases in June. I'm reading Nevermore right now to get caught up on the Crossbreed series. IF you haven't started this series yet you are missing out! Raven kicks ass.<br />
<b><a href="https://www.wattpad.com/story/185830988-the-cursed-key" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">The Cursed Key by Rebecca Hamilton</span></a> and Miranda Brock</b> is a pre-order I just clicked. I don't typically do pre-orders (I have no logical explanation for this) but the premise - Laura Croft meets Ilona Andrews? Yes please!!! Needless to say I am eagerly awaiting this one! There are snipets on Wattpad now to hold you over!<br />
<b><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Beginners-Guide-Necromancy-Book/dp/B07JHCY1GJ" style="background-color: white;" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">How To Wake an Undead City by Hailey Edwards</span></a></b> is another one click June release! Summer reading never looked so good!! This series became a one click for me with the first book!<br />
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I'd love to hear what books are on your summer reading or tbr lists!<br />
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<br />Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-75445537759174800152019-05-04T09:57:00.000-04:002019-06-01T06:28:39.093-04:00Long Time No SeeIt's been awhile since my last blog post and here's why. So much has changed in just a few - well several, actually - months. A lot of my readers know that my day job running the family business was impacted after two flash flood in eighteen months. Shortly after my last post I wrapped up the procedure of closing that business and got back to focusing on my writing. But if there's on thing I've learned in my forty-one years it's that life finds a way for shenanigans. A couple months after that the #bigmove began with news my husband's plant was closing and we would be transferring to a new plant out of state. We're still in the process! It's been crazy. Somehow, and I have no idea how, I managed to release two books during that time.<span style="color: blue;"> </span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07JJ42C55" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">'Ink It Over</span> </a>book one in the Touch of Ink trilogy came out in January while I was driving a twenty-seven foot truck seven hundred miles through snow, ice and then rain to our new temporary home. Yikes! <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07Q2DYNN6" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Rotten Luck</span></a>, a stand alone novel, released in March while I was still washing paint out of my hair from working on our house here to prepare it for market. It's since been listed. But life hasn't slowed down. Something I am sure all of you can relate to! I'm busy getting my ducks in a row for a winter release. That will make 2019 my first ever three book release year. Fingers crossed I can hit my goal! I'm admittedly a slow writer. But it feels like things are getting back to some semblance of normal. **insert new shenanigan here**<br />
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Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-20270392396219822772018-08-27T11:36:00.002-04:002018-08-27T11:36:31.462-04:00Soul To Keep, a new novella <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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New release alert! A Soul To Keep will be coming to ebook retailers near you in September 10th! Allow me to introduce to you, Angelica Wright.<br />
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Reapers always play for keeps.<br />
Reap what you sow. That's been Angelica Wright's motto since joining the Department of Soul Acquisitions as a Reaper. It's served her well over the years, a reminder the mortals who end up in her case files sealed their fate when they signed their deal with the Devil. reapers have one job - collecting souls - and Angelica is good at her job.<br />
And then a Necromancer moves into town and takes up collections of his own. Competition is good for any business but there's just one problem - the souls in question are innocents and that just won't do.<br />
Thrust into a partnership with Jackson Reed, the silver-tongued seller of salvation who's been on her tail and poaching her collections, Angelica has her hands full.<br />
In order to chase down the necro, she'll have to work with the Sin Eater who's been chasing after her for months or the Reaper may end up reaped herself....<br />
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Angelica and Jackson were fun to write and I can't wait for you to read them!Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-44607430927859392722018-08-27T11:02:00.001-04:002018-08-27T11:02:44.138-04:001970- The Seven <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sarah M. Cradit is an author who's on my new release watch list and her latest book is no exception!<br />
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Seven siblings. Seven years. Seven spellbinding novels.<br />
New Orleans. The seven Deschanel siblings live with their long suffering mother in a historic Garden District mansion. Each of them unique. Each of them born with a gift. In some cases, a gift they wish they could give back.<br />
When August Deschanel died, he left his wife - Irish Colleen - with more than seven children to raise. She was left with a job she was never prepared for: raising his heirs in a world she didn't understand. She'd never seen true magic, not before marrying into the most prominent - and mysterious - family in New Orleans. Now she can't escape it.<br />
Irish Colleen knows a terrible secret. Her youngest, a prophet, has seen a future that is unavoidable: the Deschanels will not leave 1970 without losing one if the seven. She knows only that it will happen, but not when... or to whom.<br />
Charles the playboy heir apparent. Augustus, the family fixer. Colleen, the unfailing pragmatist. Madeline, the bleeding heart. Evangeline, the genius. Maureen, the dreamer. Elizabeth, the tortured one.<br />
One of her children must die and Irish Colleen can do nothing to stop it.<br />
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This sounds fantastic and I for one cannot wait to read it!<br />
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<span style="font-family: georgia, serif;">Pre Order – Links</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, serif;">Amazon: https://amzn.to/2wePds6</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, serif;">iBooks: https://apple.co/2HGFOwX</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, serif;">Nook: http://bit.ly/2w8uENW</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, serif;">Kobo: http://bit.ly/2OGJyCv</span></div>
Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-27444735334356580982016-04-26T07:05:00.002-04:002016-04-26T07:05:52.199-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Payable On Death is live every where books are sold! Have you picked up your copy yet? I'd love to know what you think of my new world and characters! <3Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-51770040923098799472016-04-26T07:04:00.004-04:002016-04-26T07:04:35.558-04:00Silent Night (long over due holiday short that I finally edited! Yikes!)<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Twas the night before Solstice and all through the town, <br />
Not a witchling was stirring, not one could be found;<br />
No stockings were hung by a chimney with care<br />
Naughty little witches knew St. Nicholas wouldn’t be there;<br />
The children were hunkered down, hiding underneath of their beds,<br />
While visions of Krampus replayed in their heads;<br />
They set protection circles and whispered banishing spells,<br />
Out of fear the holiday would soon become hell;<br />
The priestess and her coven fell into blood magic’s dark trap,<br />
And now all the children must take the long dirt nap.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Salem’s Preternatural Task Force became the new
headquarters of the Wild Hunt when Mason took over the responsibilities I’d
shirked after the Seelie Queen murdered my father. Drowning in grief and unwilling
to give up my attempts to change the outcome of that tragic night, I continued
to push my ability to alter the fabric of time, while Mason worked tirelessly
doing my job and his. I didn’t deserve him. Something he denied every time I
told him so. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">He came home from the station or a hunt more than
once, so exhausted he could barely stand but never complained. Feeling more
than a little guilty for being such a mental and physical strain on him, I
moved my office into his to pick up the
slack at SPTF. I wasn’t ready to face the Hunt, not yet. Not when I was the
reason Arawn was dead, and they were
leaderless, but I could help with an ever-growing
caseload in Salem. So I put a small desk
in the corner of Mason’s office, conveniently located next to the coffee pot
and worked cases for him as a consultant in between Council business. It proved
to be a wise decision.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Calls started coming into
the station around five in the morning. SPTF had their hands full with missing
children. Yes, plural. Someone came to Salem and was snatching its children
from their beds, with their parents unsuspecting and sound asleep under the
same roof. Each scene as clean as the next, no fingerprints, hairs or fibers
left behind. Without any leads or suspects,
we were left searching for patterns. One glaring similarity surfaced
immediately. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Blood covens.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I’d spent the better part of a year in my role as
the Regulator for the Council trying to eradicate blood covens from Salem. Winning a game of whack-a-mole the next time the
carnival was in town would be easier. Like slicing a worm in half, rather than
eliminate a coven when we took out the leader, we ended up with two. The
witches splintered off, new leaders rising
through the ranks to form new factions of
dark magic. It looked like the black arts practitioners finally reaped what
they sewed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Or we were being duped, taken for fools in an
elaborate performance to misdirect us from the real reason the children were
missing. They’d sacrificed them. Shivers raced along my spine at the thought of
any parent harming a child, and I sent a
silent prayer to every deity listening that that wasn’t the case. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">No one was racing the clock to save a child, but
rather to catch a predator. The consensus
among the detectives seemed to be the children were dead, by magical means or
just plain old murder, it didn’t matter to them. They were convinced a cold
blooded killer lurked in the shadows of
Salem’s streets. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I wasn’t so sure and refused to write those children
off until there were bodies to prove otherwise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Wielding nothing more than a dry erase marker, I
transformed the whiteboard in the
conference room into a visualization of all the ideas related to the case
fighting for room inside my head. Every connection
no matter how thin was laid out an
elaborate spider web graph. True to form and unwilling to take orders from me, Masarelli questioned every move, every
suggestion I made. For the first time, I
wished I’d gone to Other World to handle Wild Hunt business instead of Mason. I
thought we’d moved past the resentment and jealousy in SPTF. Apparently I was
wrong. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Rather than rail against the opposition, he managed to whip up while I’d been busy doing real
police work, I decided to turn the official investigation over to him and do a
little detecting on my own. After making copies of the files and tapes from the
parent interviews, I discretely shoved them into my laptop carrying case and
headed straight home. Straight home after the detour to the Daily Grind for a
large black coffee with a dash of cinnamon and a croissant, that is.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Conversations, which reached levels bordering on
noise pollution, turned to whispers as soon as I walked in. My lifetime ban
from the Grind, after taking down the high priestess of Amalie’s coven was only recently lifted. Given the
tension and anger in the air, I wondered if
I wasn’t mistaken. Perhaps it hadn’t been lifted after all. Amalie stood behind the counter in her usual spot with
an apologetic look on her face. Assuming the worst, that I was back to
schlepping it half way across town to Brewed Awakening for the second best cup
of coffee, I turned to leave.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You’re usual, Maurin?” Amalie’s voice stopped me in
my tracks. Apparently my money still was still good at the Grind. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Despite her position as a liaison for the Council, she still worked at her uncle’s coffee
house. Council jobs didn’t pay near what they should. We needed to unionize or
something.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yeah, that’d be great.” I tried to ignore the uncomfortable
silence and stares as I made my way over to the counter to pay for my order.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My discomfort and confusion must have been written
all over my face because she leaned across the counter, further than necessary
to hand me my change.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“They just want to know what’s going on. So far it’s
just blood covens but what if it spreads?
It wouldn’t be the first time someone came to
Salem to target the covens. I
don’t need to remind you about the Inquisitors.” Despite Amalie’s best efforts
to keep her voice below a whisper, her words carried across the coffee shop.
“SPTF isn’t talking about the case. Not even to me and I’m the liaison. They’re
coming to me for answers, and I don’t
have any.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Unfortunately, neither do I.” There was no point
whispering. I wanted everyone to hear what I had to say. “Not yet. But I will.
Soon.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That seemed to satisfy the crowd. For the time
being. Missing children, regardless of who their parents were, put people on
edge. In a town where every doorway was warded,
most of its inhabitants slept soundly. That wasn’t the case anymore. People
kept the lights on, parents took turns keeping watch over their children at
night. One more missing child and the station would be facing an angry mob. An
angry mob that packed one hell of a magical punch. As Regulator, I’d be called
upon to deal with whoever was snatching Salem’s children. But the Council had
its agenda. Without a witch holding a seat,
the kids were unlikely to be a priority. Knowing
them, they viewed the disappearances in a positive light, a necessary cull of
the bad blood we were trying to wipe out. The council frowned upon
unsanctioned activity, but I’d gone rogue before. I didn’t have a
problem doing it again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">With coffee in hand,
I left Daily Grind more determined than ever to find who or what was behind the
kidnappings.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Conry waited for me in his usual spot on the couch
and was none too pleased when I spread out a stack of files on the kitchen
table instead of grabbing the leash for our afternoon walk. Muttering promises
to take a trip into the between as soon as I finished, I scoured the reports
for clues I’d overlooked. Nothing jumped
out at me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The kids ranged in age from ten to thirteen. Old
enough to begin rudimentary magical training. At the very least they would have
learned protection charms. None of their rooms showed signs of a struggle, and none of the parents reported
hearing screams or sounds of distress during the night. It appeared as if the children just disappeared. Which was
impossible. Someone took them. The answer was right in front of me; I just couldn’t see it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The words blurred and my eyes burned from staring at
the pages. Nothing new surfaced in the detailed paperwork. Mason’s standards were
high, and his team continued to live up
to them despite his absence. Including Massarelli.
They’d left no stone unturned in their investigation. With no clues and no
fresh leads, I decided to take Conry out for a walk. He needed the exercise, and I needed to scope out the blood
coven’s neighborhood. Bringing along some backup wouldn’t hurt either. Having
conducted more than my fair share of raids in the six city blocks that housed
the most concentrated population of dark witches in New England, I was pretty
much public enemy number one. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Our conversations were always one sided, but Conry understood more than the basic dog commands. After bringing him up to
speed on my impromptu stake out, he sat
by the door, tail wagging, and waited for me to get my coat. My trusty sidekick
was always ready for action, and this
proved no exception. With a heavy sigh, I grabbed the keys for my old
Volkswagon instead of the Camaro. Outfitted
for anything and everything we faced on our runs
the SS was normally my first choice, but I was going for stealth. And a
supped up muscle car stuck out like a sore thumb in the Point. The Rabriolet did not.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-no-proof: yes;">A self-inflicted</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
curfew kept the traffic light and the drive over to the Point short. Parents
rushed home from work earlier to meet the school buses. No one wanted their kid
outside; worried the predator might catch a glimpse and see something worth
taking. The Point neighborhood was in transition. Unfortunately for its long-time residents, it was moving in the wrong
direction. Already home to a higher crime rate than other areas in Salem, the
blood covens took advantage of the more
affordable rental properties and moved en masse. Since then, property values plummeted, and crime skyrocketed. Illegal
potions and human familiars trafficking
were the number one and two offenses. With one crime feeding the other it made
it difficult to stop.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">After circling
the block a couple of times looking for a parking space, I made one of my own
by squeezing my little VW between an old
brown and white conversion van with an ‘if
the van’s a rockin’ don’t come a knockin’ bumper sticker and a rust and primer
colored Dodge pickup. Having been the victim of petty theft once again, my half-breed VW Rabbit-cabriolet
fit right in with its missing grill
emblem and gas cap. Conry and I exited the vehicle and started our walk as
nonchalantly as possible. We weren’t the only ones hoping to catch a glimpse of
the serial kidnapper.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-no-proof: yes;">Massarelli</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
and his boys were there too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I missed the unmarked cars when I was trying to park
but having seen the first one; the other
three were easy to spot. Under other circumstances, the detectives from SPTF
would have been the victims of some uncomfortable but not permanently harmful
hexing to run them out of the black magic
quadrant. For the first time, the blood
coven was afraid of something and that had them overlooking the presence of the
police.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“What are you doing here Kincaide?” Massarelli stepped out from behind an old oak
tree in a yard two houses down from my car.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Just out for a walk with Conry.” My ethereal dog
fell into to step beside me, pretending to be like any other docile k-9. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We weren’t fooling anyone. Massarelli knew what Conry was capable
of.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You always bring your <i>dog</i> for walks in the Point?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“When I’m looking for black magic users, yeah.”
Giving up the ruse, I joined Massarelli
at his tree.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“We don’t need you to hold our hands while your
boyfriend’s away. We’ve got this under control.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“This situation is far from under control. Kids are being stolen from their houses and goddess only
knows what happens after that. Let me help. In an unofficial capacity. I don’t
need or want any credit for the collar. I just want to catch this thing.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-no-proof: yes;">Massarelli</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
started to question my use of the word thing but was interrupted by one of his
guys on the radio. Two of the men on his team caught a glimpse of something
moving behind the house on the corner. Tall, dark and muscular. They could have
been describing a hero from a romance novel. Until
they mentioned the horns. Heroes typically didn’t have horns, monsters
did.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Before the bumbling detective could argue, I
unhooked Conry’s lead. A Cwn Anfwnn on the hunt is a wondrous thing to
behold. Going to ground with one of the ethereal dogs on your tail was impossible.
Ignoring Massarelli’s warning to back
off, I raced after Conry; fueled by adrenaline and the thrill of the chase.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">An ear piercing shrill tore through the night,
temporarily breaking my stride as chills ran up my spine. The creature had
another child. Afraid it decided to kill the little boy or girl upon being
discovered, I forced myself to move faster. Massarelli
ran with a speed I hadn’t thought
possible for the doughy detective. Despite his grumblings, he didn’t want to
see another child taken either. Even if it was a Witchling and a dark on at that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We rounded the corner, cutting through the backyard.
A little boy, still in the plaid flannel pajamas he’d worn to bed, lay in the
middle of the yard. Too scared to move, he curled in the fetal position and
muttered a protection spell mixed in between cries for his mother. Massarelli grabbed his radio, instructed one
officer to get the parents, then called for an
ambulance to take the kid to North Shore Medical Center, along with our
position and the current heading of whatever it was we pursued. He followed up with instructions to keep their sirens
and lights off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Conry had stopped in front of a boxwood hedge
surrounding the adjoining yard. My
ethereal dog bayed to the yellow moon to signal the end of his hunt but was still poised to run if the beast
gave chase again. Branches scratched against each other; oak leaves rustling in the bitter December wind, but nothing came out of the bushes. I
tapped Massarelli on the arm and slowed
my pace, joining Conry at the edge of the yard. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Step out of the bushes. Slowly.” Gun drawn, Massarelli
moved in beside me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The beast ignored the detectives command, remaining relatively camouflaged inside the hedge. Except
for his eyes. The black orbs with red centers glinted in the moonlight and
remained fixed in one direction. At me. He was going to make a play, and I braced myself for what was about to
come. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Come out of the shrubs or I will fire this gun
until the clip is empty or you’re dead. The choice is yours.” Massarelli drew the slide back on his stainless
steel Colt 1911, chambering the first round. The clip would empty as fast as he
could pull the semi-automatic’s trigger.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You don’t even know if bullets will kill it.” Given
the look in its eyes, I wasn’t sure filling that thing full of holes was the
best idea.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“We don’t know that they won’t.” Massarelli hesitated for a moment when he saw
the red and black eyes peering out of the green leaves but quickly recovered, falling
into his firing stance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-no-proof: yes;">Even though I knew better, it was
hard to argue with that logic.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> We didn’t know anything about it.
What it was, where it came from or why it wanted so many little kids. Or worse
yet, what the hell it did with the kids after it took them. Filling it full of
bullets might nit be such a bad thing after all. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Just don’t kill it. We need to know where it’s
hidden the others.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I never took you for such an optimist Kincaide.
Those kids aren’t alive. This thing fucking ate them.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Until we have conclusive evidence to prove
otherwise we’re proceeding like they’re alive. Don’t kill it.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As Regulator,
I officially outranked him, something I
hadn’t pressed until now because I wanted the same thing he did. To catch the
son of a bitch but if he killed or only lead to those missing kids, I’d haul him in front of the Council and
his superiors. Something I tried to avoid at all costs since one of his
superiors was my fiancé. Mason didn’t need any more grief. He had his hands
full with me and the Hunt as it was.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-no-proof: yes;">Massarelli</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
heard the authority in my voice, picking up what I was saying without actually
saying it. He nodded his agreement and fired one shot, low into the bushes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“That was a warning asshole. Come out of there.
Now!” Massarelli aimed again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Unstrapping my dagger from its sheath on my thigh,
and not a moment too late, I readied myself for the charge. The beast rocketed
out of the hedge and was barreling straight for me. Conry went after it, biting
into its thick, black furry side but it didn’t so much as slow down. It dropped
its head in the charge, long sharp horns leveled
at my chest. Never a fan of being gored,
I turned sideways, taking the full impact of its massive skull on my side. Two
ribs cracked on impact.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">True to his word, Massarelli
emptied one magazine and hammered another into position. My dagger found its
way into the creature’s shoulder blade on the way down. Unfazed by the bullets
or the blade, it left me on the ground, gasping for breath and bleeding from
where its horns grazed my stomach and back. Both the ribs and the abrasion were
superficial wounds; I’d healed worse but
in the time it took to pick myself up, Massarelli
had been tossed around like a rag doll.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> Conry
attacked but was no match for it alone. The beast swung him off with ease, his white body bouncing off the ground. I
pulled a thin veil of the between around us, temporarily hiding us from the
beast’s eyes and tried to regroup. It was strong, fast and unaffected by
bullets or silver. <i>What the hell was this
thing? </i>Momentarily confused by our disappearance, it bellowed and snorted
air like a bull; dragging its hoofed foot through the grass ready to charge.
Holding on to the between, I kept us hidden from the creatures sight until it
backed away and took off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You let it get away?” Massarelli groaned, trying to pick himself up off the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You think you can stop it? Be my guest.” Dropping
the veil, I waved in the direction the monster had gone. “I want to take it
down as much as you do but getting killed isn’t going to help those kids. Your
gun is useless and so is silver. Maybe if we had more, we could slow it down at
least but…” I trailed off for a moment, trying to think of something we could
do to trap it or wound it badly enough to cage it. “We don’t even know if this
thing can communicate, maybe something is controlling it.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">‘Why didn’t you use that sword of yours?” Massarelli managed to get to his knees, still
out of breath and holding his side. It looked like I wasn’t the only one with a
couple of broken ribs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Are you even listening to me? I told you we can’t kill
it. We need it alive to find the other missing children.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A couple of his men joined us in the backyard. One
photographed the damage for the file and complaint the homeowner planned to file for restitution
while the other helped Massarelli to his
feet. Conry sat at the edge of the yard waiting for me to give the command to
chase the beast down. As much as I wanted to run after that thing, I needed
some information first. I couldn’t lead the guys from SPTF into their deaths
without giving them a choice and all the intel I could gather so they could
make it. Besides, something nagged at my brain, something familiar about the
creature and if it turned out to be what I suspected, we had much bigger problems
than a few missing kids.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Massarelli
needs to go to the hospital, get his ribs looked
at. I’m going to see if I can find anything on this horned monster
running around. Conry has its scent. Those of us willing and able will meet
back here in…” I checked my watch. “Two hours.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-no-proof: yes;">Massarelli</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
started to argue, to give his men different instructions and accuse me of
interfering with a police investigation and intentionally jeopardizing the
lives of those kids. Refusing to take the bait,
and get into an argument with him, I responded by informing the two EMTs I
passed on my way out that he was having a mental break, talking all kinds of
nonsense about horned beasts and should be sedated before he hurts himself or
someone else. Whistling for Conry, I walked around to the front of the
house, smiling as I heard Massarelli
arguing about the shot the paramedics were trying to give him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Wincing as I got behind the wheel of my car, I adjusted
the seat; lowering it back to take pressure off my ribs while the bone knitted
back together. Pulling my cell out my back pocket, I marveled at the fact I’d only cracked the screen during
the fight. Sixty dollars for a ballistic case seemed like a lot at the time,
but I was certainly glad I shelled out the extra money given the fact the phone
worked. Next time I’d just leave it in the glove box. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Not wasting any more time, I started messaging
Amalie, filling her in on what happened so she could update the Council and get
me an official order to take over the case from SPTF and hopefully give me some
information on what we were dealing with.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Googling images based on a description of what I’d
seen while I waited for Amalie to
respond, pretty much confirmed my suspicions. I sent another message before she
could answer the others.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Why
would the Horned God be taken blood coven
kids from Salem? Better yet, why is he in Salem at all?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The Horned God was the opposite of the Goddess, the
sun to her moon. The Wiccan Lord of life
and death, he alternates ruling over fertility with the Goddess and controls
the cycle of birth, death and rebirth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The
Horned God? Here? That’s impossible; it
doesn’t make sense.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Amalie,
I know what I saw. I still have the gore marks on my side to prove it.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The little dots in the window signifying someone’s
response was on the way appeared and disappeared a few times before her answer
finally came.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My
uncle doesn’t think it’s the Horned God. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I expected a much longer and more detailed reply
given the number of times she restarted her message. She had a terrible habit
of assuming I knew what she was talking about.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Given
the time of year and the fact that only children have were taken, he thinks it’s Krampus.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">What
in the hell is a Krampus? <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A
creature with horns that sort of looks like the Wiccan God. But it’s not a god; it’s
closer to a demon.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A
demon is better than a god, I guess. </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Not that I hadn’t had
experience fighting both before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Where
are you?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In
the Point. </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Straining to see the house number on the
mailbox, I sent her the street address.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">On
my way. Call Mason. We’ll need the Hunt.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Can’t.
The Hunt is on a run already. </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The weeks from Samhain
to the Twelfth Night were the busiest time of the year for the Hunt, having
come into their full power during the dark half of the year.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Then
call Cash. We need a hunting party. Conry can’t take it out a Krampus by
himself. If we can track it and trap it, I think I can bind it and send it back
to the underworld. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Wikipedia
said something about binding. And scourging? Something to do with coven
initiation rites?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Yeah,
I think the blood coven did something to incur the wrath of the demon. It’s too
much to text. Let me get ready. I’ll be there ASAP.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I put in a call to Cash, leaving a message when he
didn’t answer his cell. With the first Christmas moon in almost forty years
looming, the pack was probably celebrating with hunts on Winter Island leading
up to the rare full moon. As expected, the call went straight to his cell, so I left him a message detailing the
situation and asked him to meet us in the
Point. I wanted to talk to the parents of the boy we saved. If Cash didn’t call
by then, Amalie and I were on our own.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The temperature dropped a couple more degrees, so I cranked the heat while I waited
for Amalie before going to talk to the dark magic family. Best to have another
practitioner with me, someone who can counter spells in case the parents aren’t
as grateful as I hoped. I’m not immune to magic,
and I’d rather not roll the dice and assume the mother and father will greet me
with thanks and praise as opposed to the hex
I’d get any other day. There was a lot of bad blood, no pun intended between me
and this coven.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Warming my hands in front of the vents, I thought
about the questions I wanted to ask the family. What magic were they working
that involved the Krampus? Why did they raise the demon in the first place? Was
a sacrifice required? What did they do that pissed the horned demon off so much
it was stealing their children? On second thought, it was probably best if
Amalie asked the questions. I couldn’t form a single one that didn’t sound like
an accusation. I had far too many bad experiences in the Point not to be
judgmental. Besides, they’d probably respond better to a witch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A dense blanket of fog unfurled over the street,
engulfing the homes in front of me. Sparing a glance in the review I noticed
the street remained clear behind me. Conry perked up, aware the energy shifted
around us. He senses something or someone was coming
like I did. A shadowy figure emerged from the mist, walking toward us. Despite
being unable to determine if it was friend or foe, Conry and I got out of the
car to meet them head on. Thankfully, a
familiar shape took form.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You’ve developed quite a flair for the dramatic.” The heavy haze dissipated as Amalie
reached the car. “I blame Ballard. You’ve been spending an awful lot of time
with the Fae King.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Amalie responded with a mischievous smile and a
shrug. After all the days and nights she’d been with Ballard, she’d yet to kiss
and tell. But I knew there was something between them. Something more than
either was ready to admit to themselves or their people. Amalie had moved up in
power, the coven grooming her to take the position for high priestess.
Entangling herself with the Unseelie king wouldn’t be viewed in a positive
light. Not while the coven was in transition. The courts were in transition themselves, and while I doubted very much
Ballard gave a rat’s ass what anyone thought, he wouldn’t risk unsettling the
delicate balance. So their affair remained a secret. Based solely on the
illusion of training in wild magic to expand the power base of her coven and in
the process weakening the hold of blood magic. I was all for the training. The
jury was still out on the relationship. Ballard tired easily of his toys, and I worried Amalie would be cast aside
like all the rest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“He said he’d be happy to send his trackers to help
in the search.” Amalie dusted off her wool coat, the last of her fog clinging
to the hem.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Did he? As grateful as I am for the offer, let’s
hold off on unleashing the Slaugh. A
child snatching horned beast is enough to deal
with. There’s no need to add a fae
undead hunting party into the mix.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I told him you wouldn’t accept it, but he insisted I pass along the offer.”
Amalie went over to Conry, greeting him with a pat on the head and scratch
behind the ears. “He’s fascinated with you.” She hated admitting that as much
as I hated hearing it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“He’s fascinated with who and what I remind him off.
I’m like a flesh memory to him, nothing
more.” It wasn’t as reassuring as I’d hoped it would be but I didn’t know what
else to say. ‘Ok, let’s steer the conversation away from your boyfriend for a
minute and get back to the kidnappings.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“He’s not my… I was just telling you…” Exasperated,
Amalie took a deep breath before continuing. “I was getting to that. I don’t
see Cash anywhere, and if it is what I
think it is, we’re going to need some help,
Maurin.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“And you think it’s a Krampus.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Well, it’s
certainly not the Horned God. He doesn’t run around snatching children from
their beds. That’s a Krampus’s job.” She pulled out her phone, and Google imaged the demon. Oddly enough, several images
came up. “Is this what you saw?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“It was larger, more muscular and its beard was
different. A little longer, fuller. But yeah, that’s what I saw.” I found it
interesting that not one of the images was an actual photo. Every picture was a
scientific sketch from a witch’s encyclopedia or a disturbing greeting card.
Because nothing says happy holidays like a card with a demon stuffing a child
into a basket. “Does it seem weird to you that there are no photos of this
thing?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Not really. A Krampus comes in the night and takes
the child. In and out like a ghost. You don’t know he’s there until it’s too
late. Some don’t know until after he’s gone and they find empty beds and cloven
hoof prints.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“So what’s different this time? I saw him, Massarelli saw him. Hell, three other SPTF detectives
saw him.’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Honestly? I have no idea. This is unprecedented. I can’t find a record or even an old legend
of a Krampus stealing this many kids.
It’s supposed to just take the bad kids. Good
kids get presents; bad kids get Krampus. All
these kids can’t be bad.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Well, it is a blood coven.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Maurin!” Amalie feigned disgust. She knew my sense
of humor better than anyone. And my past with the blood covens.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Too soon?” I held
my hands up in mock defeat. “I know, I know, bad joke. No kid deserves this.
The son shouldn’t be punished for the
sins of the father.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Are they all boys?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I’m not sure. It was just a saying I heard
somewhere. The last one taken was a boy and the one tonight was a boy as well.
Would it matter?” Something told me I wouldn’t like the direction she was headed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Maybe. If it wasn’t the whole coven, if it was just
one witch working the spell…first born
sons would bring more powerful results. Maybe the Krampus was summoned with the
promise of more.” Amalie pulled out her phone again and began searching files.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Is that your book of shadows? On your phone?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yeah, it’s so much easier this way. I don’t have to
lug around that old tome. Do you have any
idea how heavy that thing is?” She didn’t even bother looking up from her
screen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“What if someone stole your phone?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Amalie waved the idea off. “Then everything is
erased.” At my puzzled expression, she
elaborated. “It’s magic Maurin, don’t ruin the mystique with logic. But
seriously, it’s fingerprint recognition. If someone other than me tries to
access the folders, they’re automatically deleted.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“What if someone cut off your finger?” She muttered
something about that being disgusting,
but I knew first-hand people what people
were capable of. “I’m just saying. It
could happen.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I’ll delete the files tomorrow.” Amalie knew what
I’d been through, the pain I’d suffered at the hands of vampires, witches and
especially the fae- both mentally and
physically. As horrific as it sounded, she knew I was right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Looking at my phone,
I checked for messages from Cash. Nothing. If he was on the hunt, I doubted we’d hear from him before Conry
lost the scent and the trail went cold. It wasn’t like he had somewhere to
carry his cell once he’d shifted. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Let’s give Cash a few more minutes. He’s on Winter Island, and reception is spotty at best.
Besides, I want to talk to the parents of the little boy we saved tonight. They
might be grateful enough to tell us something useful. If we don’t hear from
Cash when we’re done, we go on our own.
Conry won’t be able to track that scent forever,
and I don’t want to lose our only chance of catching the Krampus before it takes another kid.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Amalie nodded her head in agreement. Not that she
supported the idea of us going out alone; she was the one who suggested a
hunting party in the first place. But if we were the only ones available she
had my back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Maybe I should do the talking.” She looked to the house two down from where we stood; police cars still positioned out in
front of it like their proximity would make a difference and then back at me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Her sentiments echoed my thoughts from earlier. A
witch, even an earth witch like Amalie,
would be better received than the Regulator. Even if I was there to help. There
was too much water under that bridge for me to make any headway. With all her
experience as liaison and the number of runs she’d joined me on, I didn’t doubt
she knew which questions to ask. If there was information to be had, Amalie was
just as qualified as I was to get it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We stood on the front porch, after ringing the bell twice.
No one answered. Amalie raised a hand to knock when someone finally opened the
door. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Can I help you?” The man peering out from behind
the solid oak door had one of those hipster style haircuts, with gray streaking through the dark brown at his
temples. Middle aged, probably in his late forties, he was older than I
expected given the age of his son. Assuming he
was, in fact, the father.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">‘Mr. Garner? William Garner? We’d like to ask you a
few questions. About the attempted abduction. About your son in general, what
may have made him stand out, what might have made him a target.” Amalie kept
her voice soft, non-threatening.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I’ve already spoken with the other detectives.
Besides, I won’t say a word in front of her. That monster should be chasing her
down instead of our children. She’s got more blood on her hands than any
practitioner in the Point.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The man might as well have spat in my face. But he
wasn’t entirely wrong. I had blood on my hands. Blood that wouldn’t wash off. So
I waited outside with Conry while Amalie talked to the family.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Several long, boring minutes ticked by while one
earth witch conversed with a family of
dark practitioners. With nothing else to do, I scoped out the grounds for any
evidence or clues left behind. Someone conjured this thing. They’d slip up
sooner or later. I just hoped it was before another kid went missing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Conry darted from my side with his nose to the
ground. He picked up a trail, following it to a shed in the backyard. My
suspicions weren’t raised; the demon had
been here only a couple of hours ago. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-no-proof: yes;">Until I looked in the shed.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">An altar wasn’t entirely unusual. Some witches
preferred not to practice the arts in their homes, especially those dealing with dark magic. The candles and markings
inside the shed were also common for a spelling room. It was the pictures on
the back wall that caught my eye and got my blood boiling. I’d seen them
before. In the SPTF files. A mix of black and white and color, candid and
professionally shot, photos of all the missing kids collaged on the wall. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Well
played you son of a bitch. <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">William Garner knew who I was and counted on someone
else being there to do the questioning. And he was right. If he kept me away
from little William junior, I couldn’t ask him any questions that might
implicate his father. I couldn’t hold his hand and slip inside his mind, rifle
through memories of daddy doing things in the shed that he shouldn’t be doing.
Like raising a child-snatching demon.
What he hadn’t counted on was Conry. He hadn’t done his homework. Garner didn’t
understand what my guardian was or how he hunted. It would prove to be a costly
mistake.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The secret was out. I knew that the clean cut,
docile looking, William Garner was a monster
hiding behind a hipster façade. The only question was why. Why raise the
Krampus? Why take all those children? If he’d been working a spell, one that
called for such a horrific sacrifice, for a fount of fresh blood…. His power would be immeasurable. Even
someone with Amalie’s gifts couldn’t stop him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Amalie. She was in the house with him, didn’t know
what I’d uncovered in the back yard. But if he said or did something that
tipped her off… <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was time to get the Retaliator. Pulling back a
thin layer of the gray, I slipped into
the between and jumped back to my apartment. Grabbing the sword and scabbard
from its hook on the bedroom wall, I spared a quick glance at the picture of
Mason my nightstand and whispered a little prayer we’d both make it home safe
from our missions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Rather than pop back out in the yard and storm
through the front door, I opted for reappearing right behind Mr. Garner. He sat
in an armchair with his back to the kitchen. Amalie did her best to remain
composed as I moved into position. Mrs.
Garner’s widened eyes and quick inhalation of breath,
unfortunately, gave me away. He sat forward, ready to lunge from the
chair and face me. To hit me with some curse or hex no doubt. But this wasn’t
my first case, and I was faster. My sword
found its home, just beneath the Adam ’s apple. With the right amount of
pressure, enough to let Garner know I would slice his throat in front of his
pretty little wife and ruin his living room carpet, I convinced him to take his
seat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">One wrong move, by either of us, just the smallest
nick of the Retaliator’s razor sharp blade
and William Garner would suffer a wound he’d never recover from. No healing salves, potions or charms could save him.
With steady hands, I kept the sword pressed against his neck and leaned in, my
mouth right next to his ear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You know what this is Mr. Garner?” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Yes.” The blood witch
kept his cool, his voice soft and even with no hint of fear. But the small
trickle of sweat down his temple gave him away. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Then you must also know I only have to break the
skin, just enough to draw blood, to make your wife a widow.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We hadn’t worked together since Lawrence, but Amalie
knew the drill; binding Mrs. Garner’s magic before she did anything stupid like
defend her husband. She threw the same spell at William Garner, ensuring he
couldn’t work any curses either. My attention focused
on Garner; Conry stayed at my back
watching the rear exit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Where are the children? Where did the demon take
them?” <i><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Please
don’t say they’re dead. Please don’t say they’re dead. </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I’ve
worked some disturbing cases, hunted some of the worst mankind had to offer but
if Garner or the Krampus he unleashed in the Point hurt those kids… It was the
Solstice. They should have been stringing up holly and ivy, hanging mistletoe
and white lights. Instead, they were ripped from their homes, from what little
innocence remained in the Point, taken by two monsters. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Despite his wife’s tears and pleading, Garner
refused to give up the Krampus or the kids’ location. I decided it was time for
a different approach.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Mrs. Garner, Mrs. Garner look at me. You understand
what’s happening here don’t you? That your
husband is the one behind all those missing kids. He opened the door for the demon to come and take your son.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Tears streamed down her face as the realization that
her husband was an evil son of a bitch and working magic darker than any of the
blood covens thus far, settled in. Ready
to separate herself from him, from their life together, she started to talk.
Incoherent ramblings at first, mixed with sobs, making it difficult to
understand what she was trying to tell us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Before we were able to get any useful information
out of her, her lips were sealed. Sealed,
like someone had super glued them together. Something that shouldn’t have been
possible. Amalie bound both the Garners. Which
meant only one thing. Whatever spells
he’d begun working on had already increased his power. That didn’t bode
well for the children. Not all of the families in the Point would have a happy
Solstice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I had to give Mrs. Garner credit; she tried to tell
us what she knew. Blood trickled down her chin as she fought the curse her
husband threw on her. To no avail. She motioned to some of her son’s art
supplies on the table, desperate to tell us whatever she could. Amalie’s hand
froze over the piece of yellow construction paper at the sound of crunching
bone. He hadn’t just broken his wife’s hands he’d destroyed them, crumpling
them in on themselves. It’d be a long time before she’d work a spell again.
There were no muffled screams, no fits to give away the excruciating pain we
all knew she must have felt. But if looks could kill, the one she gave her
husband would have slain everyone within a ten-mile
radius.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Random baubles and gimcracks from the mantle hurled
toward me. At first, I assumed Garner was
behind the onslaught of nick-nacks but given what he’d done to his wife if he wanted to risk attacking me and
getting cut by the Retaliator he would
have come up with something far worse than beaming
me in the head with a snow globe. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Young William Garner sat on the stairs. Without
making so much as a peep, he airlifted
another glass figurine from above the fireplace and hurled it toward me. Before
I could contemplate why the young man would try to save someone who’d given him
to a demon, a candlestick hurtled toward me. <i>How much crap did the woman have on her mantle? </i>There were too many
items headed my way to block them all. The candlestick holder struck the blade
of the Retaliator with enough force to push the razor sharp steel into Mr.
Garner’s skin. A small rivulet of blood ran down his neck, sealing his fate. William
junior wasn’t trying to save his father; he
was trying to kill him. The little boy focused on the tiny cut until it grew
wide enough for a steady stream of blood to flow, hastening his father’s death.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Garner senior slumped forward, halfway to the
underworld already. Stepping back from his withering body, I looked across the
room to his wife. Her eyes held a multitude of unspoken pleas to spare her son.
She would have begged for her little boy’s life if her husband hadn’t taken
away her ability to speak. It didn’t matter. A mother’s love transcends all
things. Her eyes said everything she couldn’t. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Maybe the upcoming Solstice was making me soft. Or
perhaps it was because I imagined a similar look on my mother’s face the night
she took me from Arawn and brought me to Bolton Hill in the hopes of sparing my
life during one of the many fae wars. At
least my father loved me. The same couldn’t be
said for Mr. Garner. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Whatever the reason, I chose to overlook a few
details when I called into Massarelli. The official story, the one I gave
to SPTF and Amalie corroborated, was that rather than face jail time and the
wrath of the witches whose children he stole, Mr. Garner chose to kill himself
by cutting himself with my sword. Death by cop. Or as close as we got to it out
here in the Point.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A special unit of magic based EMTs was on the way to treat Mrs. Garner. Even after
reversing the binding spell, neither Amalie nor Mrs. Garner could undo the
curse her husband inflicted upon her. Curled in her lap with his head on her
shoulder, young William cooed comforting words in his mother’s ear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Amalie and I paused to take in the touching scene,
the mother, and child embracing on the
eve of the Solstice. At that moment, all things seemed possible; that they’d
get the fresh start they deserved, that Mrs. Garner would be able to undo the
things her husband had done and lead herself and her son down a different path.
Only an Oracle could know if such things
would truly unfold but on a night of rebirth,
I chose to believe in the magic of hope and the power of love. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The festivities were coming to an end for the Garners, but they were only beginning for
Amalie, Conry and I. The Krampus was still on the loose, for a few more hours.
At least until the end of the Solstice. And if we didn’t find him before then,
any shot we had of rescuing those kids was over.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Once the crime scene unit finished photographing the
shed and bagging evidence confirming Garner’s plot to bring the blood covens under his thumb by enslaving their
children, Amalie prepared to burn the outbuilding as per SPTF protocol. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Stop.” Everyone ignored the small voice barking
commands from the back door, assuming the little boy was too hurt and confused
to understand what was happening. But William junior was a boy beyond his
years. “My father’s dead. If you burn the shed,
you’ll take whatever’s left of the magic that binds the Krampus. He’ll be free
to roam this side of the underworld.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Look around kid, it ain’t here. The monster’s already
running loose.” One of Massarelli’s team
members shouted from the back of the crowd that had come to watch the blaze.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Amalie extinguished her flames as the child walked out to the shed and opened the door. He
motioned for us to follow him as he stepped inside. Without giving it a second
thought, we entered the small shed, with barely enough room for the three of
us. Seeing the collage close up made me
cringe but I forced myself to look at their pictures, to memorize their faces
and swore an oath to bring every single child home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">William knelt down, just outside a circle his father
had carved into the floor, and pried up one of the boards. A faint orange glow
seeped out of the rectangular opening. Amalie and I removed enough boards to take the tunnel beneath the shed. Making my way down the rough-hewn steps, I wondered
which came first, the passageway or William Garner. Had he stumbled upon
the demon or sought him out? The answer was irrelevant, I supposed, but the question nagged at me none
the less.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">We sent young William back into the house to look
after his mom and continued our descent. The light we’d seen was further away
than I’d guessed. Forced to walk single file down the narrow passage, I led the
charge with Amalie in the middle and Conry bringing up the year. The closer we
got to the demon’s chamber the hotter the temperature. I took off my coat,
using the sleeve to wipe the sweat from
my brow before tying it around my waist. My holster had begun to slide, rubbing
raw spots on my slick skin. Repositioning the scabbard and sword, I pressed
forward. For a New England girl, the heat was fucking unbearable. The fetid air wafting toward us wasn’t so great
either.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The tunnel widened, opening up into a large cavern.
Small torches were fastened to the stalagmites and stalactites throughout the
cave, accounting for the glow we’d followed. With no sign of the children or
the demon, we had no choice but to explore the cave system beneath Garner’s
yard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The expanse of the cave system was greater than I’d
anticipated. There was no way we’d be able to search it all on our own before
the solstice ended and the demon took off with the children. Forever. We
fumbled through smaller darker tunnels that branched off the main room and back
again, finding nothing. Not a single piece of evidence the demon or the
children had been there. What if he’d moved them? What if we’d been led astray and little William Garner
wasn’t the savior I’d thought but rather an apprentice who’d grown tired of his
overbearing father? A break came before I could question the young boy’s
motives any further.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Conry shot out from behind me like a bullet from a
gun, having picked up the demon’s scent again. Amalie and I raced to catch up
with him, the rocks and uneven dirt floor making it difficult. When we finally
caught up, he’d positioned himself in
front of the opening to a smaller cavern. Stepping sideways to allow the two of
us enough room to squeeze past him, Conry continued to stand sentinel at the
door. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The smell of feces and vomit, strong enough to
trigger my gag reflex, burned the sinuses. Inside the damp, dark room were all the missing children. Very dehydrated
and emaciated looking children. Most were in far worse shape than I’d imagined
with the first taken only days earlier. Time in the demon’s care had taken its
toll on the kids. After a quick head count, all of the children were accounted for,
but not all of them survived. I didn’t envy Massarelli
for the conversations he’d be having in the morning. No parent should have to
bury their child. When the solstice ended, local priestesses would prepare for
two very different ceremonies as the Point buried two of its young. We needed
to get these kids out of here before the demon returned.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Amalie, take the kids out of here.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Are you insane? I’m not leaving you down here. We
go out together.” She continued to fuss over the children, manifesting water
from the condensation on the rock walls and giving it to them to drink.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“If we’re here, the Krampus isn’t far behind. He
knows we’re after him. He won’t leave his hoard unattended for very long. He’ll
be back to finish whatever it is Garner started.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Soft whimpers and cries began as my words settled in
with the children. Some of the older ones tried to comfort the others.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Maurin.” Amalie chastised me for speaking that way
in front of the injured and already terrified witchlings.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Amalie teleport these kids out now.” My voice
brooked no arguments. Which was good because the
breath, hot against my neck, could only be coming from one thing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The demon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Amalie wove the spell faster than I’d seen her work
any magic before, taking all of the children with her as she winked out of
sight, leaving Conry and me alone with
the Krampus. My guardian lunged before I
unsheathed my sword, tearing into the demon’s thick hide. Blood barely visible
in the short coarse hair, fell to the floor in tiny droplets as Conry’s teeth
found purchase. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sword in hand I stepped forward, ready to deliver
the death blow and put an end to the reign of terror unleashed on the Point by
one demon and the black arts practitioner who raised him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I wouldn’t advise doing that. Killing the Krampus,
I mean.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Distracted by my unexpected companion, my swing went
wild. Missing my mark by at least a foot, the blade careened off the stone wall
with a small shower of sparks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Ballard. You’ve developed
a really bad habit of showing up places uninvited.” It wasn’t much of a
greeting for a fae king, but it was all I
could manage at that moment, what with a demon ready to gore me with his horns
at any second.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Come now Maurin, is that any way to greet a friend?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“We are friends, aren’t we Ballard?” I’d grown
accustomed to his gravesite appearances when I went to visit my father, but his arrival in the cavern had me
questioning his motives. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Would I be here otherwise? I offered my assistance
to our little witch, but as expected you
refused.” The Unseelie king’s words were heavy with the disappointment of not
being able to unleash the slaugh. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Conry kept the Krampus occupied, continuing to
attack its legs and side. Ballard had yet to illuminate me as to why he’d
appeared in the cave. If I were lucky,
my ethereal dog would distract the demon long enough for me to find out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“You mentioned something about not killing it? Now
would be a good time to elaborate.” Recovering my stance, I readied myself to
take another strike.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“It’s not well received to exterminate creatures in
your domain without holding court first.” Ballard busied himself by picking at
his fingernails.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“He killed two witchlings,
Ballard. That is grounds for extermination in any court in any land.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“He didn’t kill the children. The witch was
responsible for that. Didn’t you notice the withered husk like appearance? He
lacked the conviction necessary to complete his task, overthrowing the covens. Rather than make the sacrifice he chose
to siphon power from the witchlings instead. Unfortunately, not all of them
survived.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My
domain? </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That little tidbit stopped me in my tracks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“I can’t go back up there and tell them I let the
Krampus escape. He stole their children,
innocent children, which is against the rules. And what domain are you talking
about?” I feared I already knew the answer. And it had everything to do with
the responsibilities I’d been dumping off on Mason.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“The future of Otherworld falls to you. You can, of course, bequeath it to me if you wish.
I may have mentioned my interest in absorbing your domain once or twice. But
that’s a conversation for another day,
and we have more pressing matters to discuss.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Such as?” I jerked my head in the direction of the
dog and demon wrestling not six feet from us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“He is yours to command. In some cultures, the
Krampus is seen as a part of the Hunt. Therefore,
he remains in the charge of whoever leads the Hunt.” Ballard not so discretely
pointed a finger in my direction.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“So he’s mine? Like Conry?” Domesticating another
otherworldly creature hadn’t been on my to do list.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Not exactly. If I may?” Ballard uttered an old
elvish command, bringing both the Krampus and Conry to heel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Hmm,
this whole domain thing might not be so bad after all.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Talk to your fiancé. He’s been made aware of the situation. You have a decision to make. Begin your training or forfeit
the Hunt and Otherworld.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">After completing a ritual I’d never seen before,
Ballard opened a small portal and escorted the Krampus home. To Otherworld.
Which coincidentally was my home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">There goes the neighborhood.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">***<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I walked out of the tunnel system with Conry in tow,
contemplating the butterfly effect of my actions. Had I been more responsible
and taken care of the responsibilities befallen to me would Garner have been
able to raise the Krampus? I didn’t know the answer to that question. But I should.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Compared to the dim light in the caverns, the led
street lights seemed bright. Squinting to ease the watering that had begun as
soon as I stepped out of the yard and onto the street packed with police cars,
I raised an arm to block the light even further. Amalie rushed over to meet me,
relieved to see that Conry and I had made it out of the tunnels unscathed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;">After giving everyone the condensed version- the
Krampus was gone- officers piled into the cars and returned to the station.
Solstice lights on the Garner’s street and surrounding blocks in the Point had
been dimmed to honor the two children who didn’t make it out of the tunnels
alive. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-35838826724777665762016-02-29T17:45:00.001-05:002016-02-29T17:45:55.740-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFtIv3CqSeN41coW_vNL4lZ9HvgH944bnfSiQw8kJ74i7pnsotcLdKTvnyFSY3Oap4Ah05r-v0xuIo8yeZs3le8KiJGhCS2hQA4ZreQ5wwcRc8sthKj0vDibgu-YV3fYQe7X49a5judFGq/s1600/PODFBCover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="118" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFtIv3CqSeN41coW_vNL4lZ9HvgH944bnfSiQw8kJ74i7pnsotcLdKTvnyFSY3Oap4Ah05r-v0xuIo8yeZs3le8KiJGhCS2hQA4ZreQ5wwcRc8sthKj0vDibgu-YV3fYQe7X49a5judFGq/s320/PODFBCover.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So excited to share an excerpt with all of you from my upcoming release Payable On Death! I love this new world and the characters and really hope all of you do too! <3</div>
<div>
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<div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
"<b>You're
too young </b>to be so troubled. You haven't even seen a quarter century.
You're just a babe." The man flicked his cigarette in to the dark, a
shower of little orange sparks erupting when it hit the pavement. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"I'm not your babe. Leave me alone." I
pushed off the railing on the pedestrian bridge crossing over I-95 and walked
away. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He followed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"Ah, poor choice of words. I was simply
commenting on your age. You're no one's babe, Jacqui. How could you be? You're
too afraid to let people get close, lest they see the bruises." He ran a
hand along his hair, ensuring each piece in the slicked-back style remained in
place. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"Who are you? How do you know my name?"
I'd never seen him before in my life. <a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a>Someone that
perfect left an impression. If we'd met before, I would've remembered. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"I can make things better for you. Take away
your pain, ease your suffering. You hardly sleep, listening at your bedroom
door for any sign of trouble. I can help with that." He was confident. He
had to be, walking around Baltimore at night dressed in a three-piece suit,
diamond cufflinks gleaming even with only the dim blue light from the police
CCTV cameras to highlight them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"I don't know what you <i>think</i> you know about me or what you've heard but I don't do drugs.
So you can go peddle that shit somewhere else. I'm not buying." Despite
having more reasons than I could count, I'd managed to avoid getting hooked on
heroin - an impressive feat given the amount flooding the city. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"Mmm. I almost wish you were. It makes things
so much easier when drugs are involved. Let me ask you a question. Do I look
like some street thug drug peddler to you?" <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I took in the meticulous tailoring, the expensive
shoes. "You're definitely not from around here." I gestured to the
boarded up row homes across the street. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Weeds overran the small front yards, brushing the
bottoms of the windowsills. Plywood replaced glass in almost every window. Trash
littered the street, the city cans overflowing onto the sidewalk to the delight
of the ever growing rat population. Sirens echoed in the distance, the dealers
on the corner unfazed. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Welcome to Harm City.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Still, it was safer on the street than at home
most nights. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"Home for me is a lot farther south of the
Mason-Dixon line than Maryland, dear child. What are you doing up here?
Shouldn't you be home? With your mother?"<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"You don't know me, you don't know my mom.
Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops." I held up my phone and
pointed at the BPD security camera. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
He clucked his tongue, wagging a finger at me.
"Such a foul mouth for such a pretty face. I know a lot about your mom.
The lie she told about going to a basket bingo with her friend Janice. Mom never
made it out of the house by the way. She's very pretty, your mother, I see
where you get your looks. Maybe if she hadn't fussed with her hair and makeup
so much or if she'd chosen a different blouse..." <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I'd heard those excuses from my mother so many
times. If she hadn't done this or that, he wouldn't have beat her. Breathing
seemed to be what set him off where I was concerned. I avoided going home as
often as possible. For my mother's sake as much as mine. He seemed better when
I wasn't around.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"It looks bad this time. The neighbors are
out for the night. No one to call for help. And he's upset, very upset." <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"The neighbors are out? If by ‘out’ you mean
abandoned and boarded up, then yeah, they're out. He's always upset. I've
begged her to leave, so many times. She won't. She said if she ever did, he'd
kill her. Trust me, if I go back now, it will only make things worse.."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"It's different this time, Jacqui girl."
The same thing my mother said every time my stepfather came home with flowers
and a box of wine to apologize. "He came home early, found the suitcase
she packed to take with her to the shelter by the door. She's hurt. All alone
in that house. With him." <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I started to run, only making it a couple of steps
before he grabbed me. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"You'll never make it in time. I can help
you, Jacqui girl. I can put an end to all this. Don't you want to help her?
Don't you want to save your mother? Save yourself? This isn't the life you
deserve. No one should live like this. Forgotten by everyone, left to the
drunken rages and violent fits of that monster you live with. Why is this
happening? Why did He forget about you? He's supposed to love you. Doesn't He
care what happens to you?" He pointed toward the sky.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"What's in it for you? Why do you care what
happens to us? If you know all that, you know I don't have any money and
neither does my mom." I should have screamed for help.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
His breath whispered across my ear. "Money
isn't the only form of payment.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
For a moment, I considered it, considered giving
over my body in exchange for him following me home and killing my stepfather.
In all the years of darkness and misery, I’d managed to stay straight, stay on
the path. Faced with the brutal murder of my mother, was I willing to throw it
all away?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I nodded. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"I know a place we can go, but not until you
hold up your end of the bargain." My stomach heaved when I thought about
what I'd agreed to do. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"Oh, you sweet, simple girl. You are so
delicious. The soft unmarked skin of youth pulled tight over toned
muscle." He licked his lips. "Yes, I am quite sure I would enjoy
every moment. However, I don’t recall stating the terms." <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"Do we have a deal or not? You said I was out
of time." Panic gripped my heart. <i>Was
she dead already? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"You're right, Jacqui girl, I did Have you
put it together yet? Who I am? He didn't answer you. He never helped you. But I
can." <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Everything clicked. I should have ran. I should
have said no. There were a million things I should have done.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"Can you save her? Can you put an end to
this?"<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The Devil smiled. "I believe we can come to
an agreement."<o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: "Garamond","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 112%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br clear="all" style="mso-special-character: line-break; page-break-before: always;" />
</span>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpLast">
<br /></div>
<h1>
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_Toc443907812"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_TWO"></a>TWO<o:p></o:p></h1>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
<b>My mother
sat </b>across from me, her hands hidden beneath the stainless steel table. The
room was empty apart from the two of us. Neither of us spoke. She looked away
every time I made eye contact. She'd lost weight since my last visit, dark
circles and sallow cheeks. She wasn't taking care of herself. I worried every
day she'd waste away to nothing, vanish.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Maybe that was the point.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I always hoped it would be different, her blonde
hair would once again be full and lush, the smile in her eyes reserved solely
for me would be back. Nothing changed. Except for the distance between us.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
That seemed to be the only thing she nourished. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"Visiting hours are almost up. Five
minutes." The guard looked over at us, giving me a weak smile. He felt
sorry for me. I didn't want or need his pity. He saw a devoted daughter
visiting her mother every Sunday, whether the woman wanted to see her or not.
What he failed to see was a daughter who'd dammed her soul to Hell and her
mother to ten years in one fell swoop. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"I'll see you next week, Mom." Without
looking at her, I pushed my chair back from the table and prepared to leave. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"I really wish you wouldn't." <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
It was the first time she’d spoken during the
entire visit—in several visits, actually. Her last words to me, prior to this,
had been that she knew what I'd done. She blamed herself. Apparently, we'd
moved past that and the blame now lay squarely where it belonged. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
With me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Stunned, I simply waved goodbye and walked away.
With a heavy heart, I went through each security gate wondering if the
following Sunday my name would be struck from the list of approved visitors. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
In keeping with tradition, I caught the bus back
to Fells Point. I got off at the Broadway stop and walked until the
unmistakable awning of The Blue Moon Cafe came into view. A stack of Sarah's
famous Captain Crunch French toast and a cup of coffee brightened even the
shittiest of days. Tucked in the back of the restaurant at my favorite table
next to the old fireplace, I sidled up to a platter of carbs and drowned my
sorrows in maple syrup. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Two bites in, I knew the sugary sweet breakfast
wouldn't be able to beat back the bitterness I felt. <i>She didn't want to see me anymore? </i>I pushed the plate away and took
a swig of coffee. I tried to ignore the voices in my head. I'd had this
argument with myself too many times. I'd made a mistake. A huge, epic,
life-altering mistake. <i>I was still her
daughter. Why didn't she understand? Why couldn't she forgive me? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I should have known better than to believe
anything he said, but I wanted a way out, an end to the pain and misery my
mother experienced every day. He’d delivered—just not in the way I'd imagined.
I thought my mother and I would be free to live our lives in peace. Neither of
us got peace and only one of us was free. At least from prison.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I wore a different type of shackle. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
And the Devil held the key.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
My cup of coffee turned cold as I contemplated the
fateful night I'd made a horrible decision that changed both my and my mother’s
lives for the worse. He'd seemed pleased with his work and, despite my
arguments to the contrary, assured me he'd kept his end of the bargain. The
monster masquerading around as my mother's husband was gone.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The Devil
never promised me a happily ever after. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I still heard his voice, saw the satisfied smirk
and glint in his coal black eyes. <i>"The
devil is in the details my dear. You really should be more specific when
bargaining something such as your soul." <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
The flashing lights from the police cars and
ambulances lining the street in front of our row home had cast eerie shadows on
his face. We’d stood side by side watching my mother being dragged out of the
house in handcuffs, screaming that she didn't remember what happened. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I wondered if the Devil had a hand in her
sentencing. The public defender had been confident my mother would receive a
light sentence given the mitigating circumstances but the hammer of justice
fell hard and she received every day of the maximum sentence. I never missed
visiting hours and had tried more than once to tell her what happened, stopping
every time I got to the part where I'd sold my soul. I couldn't bring myself to
do that to her. I'd caused her enough pain as it was.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Three years in, she found peace and salvation and
the answers to what happened. The pastor who came to worship with the prisoners
took an interest in her case and, after several meetings with my mother, saw
all the telltale signs of the Devil's hand in her life. In her daughter's life.
She'd begged me to go to Saint Leo's and confess my sins. I'd been christened
there. It was my first and last exposure to the church growing up.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Riddled with guilt, I'd tried to do as she asked but
the doors of the church wouldn't open to someone like me. My soul belonged to
someone other than God. She stopped speaking to me when I told her I couldn't
get into the church. And now it seemed she wanted nothing more to do with me. I
was damned and she didn't believe I could be saved. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I refused to believe she was right. The Devil
hadn't come for me yet. That had to mean something.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I swallowed the last of the ice cold black coffee
and dropped a twenty on the table. I'd been coming here every Sunday after
visiting my mother for the last five years, none of the regular staff worried
I'd short the check. With a nod to my waitress on my way through to the door, I
headed home. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Somewhere between the entrance to the Blue Moon
and the corner I picked up a straggler. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"I can smell the brimstone on you from here.
Why do you fight it? You belong to him."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"Fuck off, Lazarus." Damn demon followed
me everywhere, lurking in the shadows.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Lazarus closed the distance between us, his forked
tongue slipping between his lips. "It's only a matter of time before he
calls in his marker." <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"Oh yeah? Well, what's he waiting for, anyway?
It's been five years." I knew better than to antagonize him, I just couldn't
help myself.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"Yo, Jax, wassup? Who you talking to?" <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I let out the breath I hadn't known I was holding,
my shoulders slumping. "Nobody, Tommy. Nobody." <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"Nobody, huh?" Tommy knew it was a lie, but
he didn't call me on it. "Okay, Jax, okay. Hey, I'm going to Atomic today,
wanna come with?"<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"Perusing the aisles of a comic store sounds
amazing, Tommy, but I have to be at the shelter in a couple hours. It's my turn
to cook. I want to hit the gym before I go."<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"You're cooking? How is that helping the
homeless?" The fifteen-year-old looked down at me, his bright blue eyes
sparkling beneath his lashes. He hadn't finished growing and already towered
over my five-foot-five frame. Despite being a ball buster, he was a good kid
and the closest thing I had to a friend.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
How sad was that? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"Ha. Ha. You're a real comedian. Come on,
I'll walk you to the bus stop." I knew he'd refuse the escort. He always
did. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"You wanna hold my hand while I cross the
street, too?" <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"Maybe I just wanted to spend a little more
time with you. You ever think of that?" I smacked the brim of his baseball
cap, forcing it further down and covering half his face. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
Tommy pulled the hat off, his blond hair spilling
out for a moment before he smoothed it all back and tucked it inside the cap.
It was a miracle he hadn't fallen prey to the streets. He spun his skateboard
on its tail. As much trouble as that damn thing had gotten him into with the
cops, it kept him out of even more. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"You're so full of it. I'll catch up with you
later." Tommy waved me off. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"Swing by the shelter later. Keep me company
in the kitchen." I stepped off the curb, headed toward the soup kitchen
I'd been volunteering at for the last four months. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
As part of my self-inflicted penance, I
volunteered at shelters, donated a third of my paycheck every week to different
charities, helped little old ladies cross the street and kept my eye on Tommy.
A voice in the back of my mind reminded me I'd never buy my way into Heaven.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
No matter how many good deeds I did.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I tried to shake off the dark thoughts creeping
into my mind, to stop the anger and self-hatred from worming its way in. <i>Save it for the bag. Leave it all in the
gym. </i><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I looked over my shoulder and shouted back to
Tommy. "Hey, if you see John Waters picking up his mail again, could you
please get me an autograph this time?"<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"Jax! Look out!" <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
A cab whizzed by, inches from hitting me head on.
The side mirror clipped my hip as it passed, horn blaring. Some of the people
inside the cafe came out to make sure I was okay. I brushed it off before
anyone made a fuss.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"I'm fine. I'm fine. Go back inside. Finish
your breakfast." I waved to Sarah, the owner of Blue Moon, trying to
reassure her that I wasn't hurt. Unconvinced, she ushered her patrons back
inside.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"Damn, Jax. You are one lucky...." <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"Watch your mouth, Tommy." <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"I didn't even say nothing." He looked
at me sideways. "You sure you’re all right?" <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"I'm fine. If your mom's working late
tonight, swing by the shelter. I'll fix you a plate." <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
"One near death experience a day is my
limit." <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle">
I couldn't help laughing. "Get the hell out
of here. I'll see you later." <o:p></o:p></div>
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I headed toward the gym rubbing my hip, contemplating
what Tommy said. People like me didn't have good luck. So what was with all the
near misses? It wasn't the first time I'd come close to cashing out and paying
my debt to the Devil. If I didn't know better, I'd think someone upstairs was
looking out for me. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-89905335882258038822015-10-16T17:18:00.000-04:002015-10-16T17:18:07.975-04:00Come See Me At HallowRead- I'll be fangirling over Kami Garcia!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I'll be at HallowRead next weekend! It's a labor of love putting this convention on for the readers and my fellow authors. From the panel names to the haunted house, I have a heavy hand in all aspects of the event. It's truly my favorite time of year and I cannot wait! Today I got to announce our Keynote Speaker- Kami Garcia. I know, I know! I already did the fangirl dance, trust me! Here's some more information on her appearance. </div>
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<strong>#1 New York Times Bestselling Author and Keynote Speaker- Kami Garcia </strong></div>
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<b>Kami Garcia is the #1 New York Times bestselling coauthor of the Beautiful Creatures Novels and Dangerous Creatures and the author of the instant New York Times bestseller and Bram Stoker Award nominated novel Unbreakable in the Legion series.<br />Books for Kami Garcia will be available courtesy of Books A Million. YOU MUST PURCHASE AT LEAST ONE BOOK FROM BAM FOR THE SIGNING EVENT. There is also a 1 book limit for outside books. While we understand reader enthusiasm to get beloved copies signed, n order to ensure all readers have an equal opportunity we have to set limits. * Note E-readers are considered books.</b></div>
Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-61598981317418849282015-10-15T06:06:00.000-04:002015-10-15T06:06:17.664-04:00Sherri 2.0 <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Just in time for my favorite time of year- HallowRead and Halloween! I am happy to say my free horror short Sherri 2.0 is now available. So far readers and reviewers really seem to be enjoying it. It's a quick read, about thirty-one pages but don't worry, I packed a lot in there. If you haven't read it yet, check it out. It's available in all the usual places. I don't normally enter writing contests because for me it's not about being compared to or beating someone else but a friend told me about this writing contest called Nevermore. I mean you all know how much I love Poe, how could I possibly resist a writing contest with a name like that, lol! So I entered and Sherri is doing pretty well. If you read it and enjoy it, give her a vote. the link is below. I'd sure appreciate it! </div>
<br />Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-29084757898859182642015-09-05T09:57:00.001-04:002015-09-05T09:57:20.018-04:00Jeffrey Rivera Guest PostThis is a first for the blog- a guest post! Let's all give Jeffrey a warm welcome and wish him a happy birthday! He's a friend and colleague who's helped me a lot this year! His upcoming release Sing To Me is a beautiful contemporary love story, a little different from the worlds where Maurin and Jax live but one I'm happy to share and know you'll enjoy reading!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhij8vrw0mygEKlh7sIZQAksdZ4W16MBjPj0eG2bEQQe6_RhcIvkxIKiKVNBX30nhmEvCzSZyURdHZhgT-UEYRege52ENRk2epIfSC1qXXkmkZIsWb0wtV1JjdOYnxohbQUPD-EnLt4OM80/s1600/SINGTOME.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhij8vrw0mygEKlh7sIZQAksdZ4W16MBjPj0eG2bEQQe6_RhcIvkxIKiKVNBX30nhmEvCzSZyURdHZhgT-UEYRege52ENRk2epIfSC1qXXkmkZIsWb0wtV1JjdOYnxohbQUPD-EnLt4OM80/s320/SINGTOME.jpg" width="211" /></a></div>
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<br />
An Interview With Jeffrey Rivera<br />
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<b>Why did you choose such
a surprising twist?</b></div>
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You know, the writer in me wants to create a story that’s more
realistic, but I know that’s not what readers want. </div>
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Readers don’t want something believable. They don’t want
something realistic necessarily. What they want is a fantasy, and I like to
give them what they want. The reader in me wants the same. I think that we have enough tragedy in the
world that we don’t want to put up with having to read that too. We want to
escape. We want to live a life and experience a life in which we don’t have to
deal with all the pain and suffering. And if there’s pain and suffering then we
want to know that everything is going to be all right in the end. And so I
wanted to create a story with <i>Sing to Me</i>
that would make people happy, and allow them to escape and give them what they
want and what they’ve been dreaming of. </div>
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<b>What inspired you to
create the character Cody?</b></div>
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I was inspired by this person I heard about who was trying to
pursue his dream in light of having a wife who was suffering from some serious
medical issues. I wanted to create a really sexy guy who is tough and who has a
heart of gold. And I know a lot of guys like that in my life. I have a really
good friend who is sort of a rocker type of guy. He’s an attractive guy who is
great with his wife and has a heart of gold; a sensitive guy; a good person who
would do anything for you. And so I really wanted to create a character sort of
like that. </div>
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<b>What inspired you to
create the character Emma?</b></div>
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I wanted to create a character that was a strong woman who
wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. I loosely based her a little bit on my sister
who’s soft and sweet but feisty. I wanted to create a character that could be
strong enough to be against a strong guy like Cody. I do not like weak
characters, let alone weak women characters. And I don’t think readers want
that either, but, you know, they also want someone who’s vulnerable and who has
a softer side to her. I can think of a good friend of mine who is a performer,
and she is a sweetheart, and she could be kind of tough as nails at times. But
she’s got the biggest heart. She will help anybody and even people who she
shouldn’t help, because she’s just that kind of person, and has always been
that person. So, Emma is sort of like that too.</div>
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<b>What inspired you to
create Emma’s grandmother?</b></div>
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I wanted to create a character that would be interesting to
read. I love </div>
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minor characters in stories whether it’s movies or TV shows or
books that kind of steal the scenes and are memorable. And so that’s why I
wanted to create this grandmother character. I so love Lauren Bacall and I wish
I could have gotten to meet her before she passed away. But I love feisty older
women who don’t lose their personality in being older; who stop trying to be
nice and start being real, and will say whatever’s on their mind. My
great-aunt; we called her Aunty Diva; she was sort of like that too. She would
say how it is and say things that sometimes hurt, but you knew she didn’t mean
anything by them and she would always tell the truth. I just loved that about
her. She would say things that were slightly inappropriate, but we loved it.
And so I wanted to create a character like that.</div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">SING TO ME </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">by Jeff Rivera</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><b><i><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">They want to pull the plug on his
brain-dead wife.</span></i></b><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: white;">When rock-star-to-be, Cody White meets
sassy Emma Lohan, he doesn't know what to make of her. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: white;">Obviously out of his league, she’s
outspoken, full-figured, beautiful, college-educated and has a heart of gold. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: white;">She's perfect and he can't stop thinking
about her. She’s nothing like the girls he's dated before. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: white;">It doesn't make any sense. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: white;">And yet, true love rarely does. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: white;">Little does he know she will teach him
what it means to love, what it means to fight for the girl of his dreams and
what it means to give up everything he's ever wished for; for the chance at
something he never thought was possible. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: white;">True love and kisses from the heart. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: black; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: white;">But when tragedy strikes and her life is
on the line, Cody is broken. He must make a choice: accept that the girl he
knows will never be the same again or stay with her when she needs him the most
and give up his life-long dream of becoming a rock star forever. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;"><b><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">Get your copy today. Click here: </span></b><a href="http://bit.ly/SINGTOME"><b><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%;">http://bit.ly/SINGTOME</span></b></a></span></span><b><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-highlight: white;"> </span></b></div>
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Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-44924510525916393012015-08-26T15:51:00.000-04:002015-08-26T15:51:20.814-04:00Taking over the airwaves in August!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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August was a crazy cool month where I had the opportunity to take over the airwaves not once but twice! First I met with Matthew over at Dragon Radio on campus at Howard Community College. It was my first in studio interview. I've done a few over the phone for Cutting Room Floor but going in to the studio, with the mic and everything was really neat! I loved seeing where the magic happens and a little behind the scenes on how they cut segments. Knowing this was prerecorded definitely helped keep me at ease. Matthew definitely had his work cut out for him because once I got going, there was no stopping my mouth! Lol! We talked about everything, books, the writing process, life and even HallowRead. I'm pretty sure there were hours of editing I didn't see involved afterward. There's a link below if you'd like to take a listen. </div>
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Last week I was unexpectedly interviewed for 98Rock, the #1 Rock station in Baltimore, MD. This was crazy cool! And my nerves definitely got the best of me, especially in front of a live crowd. I never was one for public speaking. Sure, I've done panels but there's more people to focus on than just me. I'm not the center of attention kind of girl so knowing everyone in the room was looking at me had me a little more than tongue tied. So did the knowledge that friends, family and hopefully new readers were listening! Despite the nerves I had a great time! Check out the pics of me and Mickey, evening DJ for 98Rock and the best "wing man" a girl could ask for, Gladys from NerdGirl Blog!</div>
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<a href="http://www.howardcc.edu/discover/arts-culture/dragon-digital-radio/" target="_blank">Check out Rachel's interview with Dragon Radio here! Wednesday at 6pm and Sunday at 9am.</a></div>
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<br />Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-88144864360463299892015-06-29T20:49:00.000-04:002015-06-29T20:49:28.854-04:00Fall AppearancesSummer's in full swing but I'm already gearing up for fall! <div>
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In September I'll be celebrating my birthday with a bunch of my favorite authors at Baltimore Book Festival (booth number and street location to be announced). Rounding out that weekend will be a long awaited tattoo appointment for the portrait of my grandmother on my forearm. Oddly enough it will be a year at the time of getting the tattoo since she passed. I had hoped to have the appointment sooner but I firmly believe the timing was meant to be. What a way to remember and celebrate her life and passing. I'm really looking forward to the experience and sharing the completed artwork with all of you. </div>
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October brings my favorite time of year HallowRead, which combines my to favorite things- books and Halloween. This year we have an incredible line up. For a full list of attending authors check out the HallowRead blog or website. I'm happy to announce I'll be participating on to panels this year- Name That Vampire where we read excerpts from popular vampire novels, some we've written and some from our favorites. Readers guess and the first person to answer correctly is given a small prize. I did it last year and we had a blast! The second panel is a new one for HallowRead, Holding Court which focuses on the Fae courts and the creatures who belong to them. With the addition of som many Fae elements in my series I am really excited about this panel!</div>
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If you want to get in on the fun go to www.hallowread.com and grab your tickets! Did I mention there is a haunted house? I cannot wait! We're having our first haunted house team meeting next week. It's going to be awesome getting the scare crew back together again! I won't be able to give too much away but I'll be sure to share some of the details as soon as I can! <3</div>
Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-44303087898262997902015-06-02T15:12:00.003-04:002015-06-02T15:12:57.571-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've been working on an anthology project and can't wait to share it with you! Hoping to announce details in the next couple weeks. I found this image to promote my piece Sherry 2.0 and the anthology over all. With all proceeds going to Wounded Warriors, I'm really hoping it does well! This story is a little different than what I've written in the past, not from a first person pov, and more sci-fi horror than paranormal urban fantasy. Can't wait for you to read it and tell me what you think!<br />
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<br />Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-52905567002476350422015-04-16T15:58:00.000-04:002015-04-16T15:58:16.226-04:00Work In Progress<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhchCjCpGYt8OccyCZpzxqepQkhYEGQDRsh2jMNQ8nBqkS7n90w0bZX9tEtZZo0YdR8PlxWuda5puLW5w7_Q1XHTKrKLv7FFNy9dEjgIa5j5mr3tghouR10YG54OofwyS0ylT3-glSsY6zR/s1600/dreamstime_xl_25905145.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhchCjCpGYt8OccyCZpzxqepQkhYEGQDRsh2jMNQ8nBqkS7n90w0bZX9tEtZZo0YdR8PlxWuda5puLW5w7_Q1XHTKrKLv7FFNy9dEjgIa5j5mr3tghouR10YG54OofwyS0ylT3-glSsY6zR/s1600/dreamstime_xl_25905145.jpg" height="214" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: white;">Here's a little snipet of what I've been working on, Payable On Death. New world, new characters but still Urban Fantasy. It's weird to be some where other than Salem with Maurin and the crew but I think you'll like Jax as much as I do. <i class="_4-k1 img sp_0FWTQ_K3bWk sx_72c37c" style="background-image: url(https://fbstatic-a.akamaihd.net/rsrc.php/v2/yS/r/ckxre_asY0y.png); background-position: 0px -8033px; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: auto; display: inline-block; height: 16px; vertical-align: -3px; width: 16px;"><u style="left: -999999px; position: absolute;">smile emoticon</u></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;">I reached into my bag, fumbling around until I got a hold of the neck of the vodka bottle. I yanked it out and cracked it over the head of the demon. The bottle bounced off his head without any of the satisfying shattering glass I'd come to expect from the movies but he did drop me. After gulping in air, I smashed the bottle against the wall and slashed out with the jagged neck. I missed, taking a sharp jab to the ribs in the process. Doubled over, but still holding the broken glass, I tried for another strike, managing to slice Lazarus's thigh. He hissed from the pain but didn't back down. He had me by the neck again, slamming me into the brick wall of the building behind me. Close to blacking out, the bottle neck slipped from my grip. Resolved to my fate, I stopped fighting and prepared to meet the Devil.<br />The sound of footsteps and someone shouting reached my ears as I slid down the wall. Lazarus took off, disappearing at the end of the alleyway. The lessor demons scattered like wharf rats down by the peer. I sat there on the damp ground, surrounded by trash bags and over flowing dumpsters, trying to catch my breath. The person who'd been yelling reached the alley, their footsteps slowed as they realized my attacker fled the scene. Grateful the guy passed by at the same time Lazarus was kicking my ass, I looked up to thank my rescuer.<br />He extended a hand to help me up off the ground, waiting patiently when I stared at him with my mouth agape. He wiggled his fingers, trying to encourage me to take his hand but I smacked it away. I've never believed in coincidence before and I wasn't about to start. Dane didn't just happen by, he'd been looking for me.<br />"I'm going to file for a restraining order if you keep this up." I pushed off the cement and stumbled to my feet.<br />Dane reached out to help me after I swayed a couple times but I shook my head.<br />"You want me to take you to the emergency room? Get those ribs looked at?" Dane glanced at the arm I'd wrapped around my midsection. "You can fill out a police report while you're there."<br />"I'm fine. No hospitals, no police." Because when you tell people demons are attacking you they didn't put out an apb for the assailant, they locked you up.<br />"I really think..."<br />"I said I'm fine." Far from fine, I gritted my teeth and slowly made my way out of the alley.<br />Of course he followed.<br />"Who was that back there? Who did this to you?" Dane reached for my arm, then thought better of it.<br />It could have been from all the wincing in pain or the don't touch me vibe I threw off. Either way I was relieved he kept his hands to himself.<br />"You saw him?" It hadn't occurred to me when Dane showed up, but if he saw me fighting someone in the alley then he saw Lazarus. No one saw Lazarus. Not ever. So how did Dane?<br />"No. I didn't get a good look at the guy. I saw you go down. Whoever it was must have hauled ass down and out of the alleyway when they heard me coming."<br />I smelled the lie. Dane saw the demon. Which meant one of two things. He didn't think I'd believe him when told me he saw a demon or he knew about the demon before he found me in the alley. Either way he was keeping something from me.</span></div>
Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-70536711364786487162015-02-12T12:36:00.001-05:002015-02-12T12:36:36.584-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw-oviYVhPUM_qCecRcKaf7u_17OV3XMt1TD8rvZw6QxFFuWcDdvRRL_LYtTh9sR5-UKF9QJltRRRelbND2v5ztxRbtFOuXJGNWMzWajT1f4bWyQhvcvD4uKSvsfWx-3COvgo8lnbMBWHu/s1600/illfatedFullWrap1+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw-oviYVhPUM_qCecRcKaf7u_17OV3XMt1TD8rvZw6QxFFuWcDdvRRL_LYtTh9sR5-UKF9QJltRRRelbND2v5ztxRbtFOuXJGNWMzWajT1f4bWyQhvcvD4uKSvsfWx-3COvgo8lnbMBWHu/s1600/illfatedFullWrap1+copy.jpg" height="232" width="320" /></a></div>
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It's alive!! I am so excited to announce that Ill Fated released early on Amazon. fire up your Kindles kids because you can one click this baby right now! I'm still waiting on links for Nook and the proof to arrive for the print edition but today is an awesome day and it wouldn't be possible without all of you! i'm going to grab a latte to celebrate!</div>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00TI20TZC" target="_blank">Get Your copy Of Ill Fated Here</a></div>
Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-43160134530800327122015-02-05T19:00:00.001-05:002015-02-05T19:00:32.701-05:00Ill Fated is coming! February 13th 2015!!So many things are in the works and I can't wait to share them all with you! Ill Fated is out for the last round of edits and the cover is done! I'm revamping all my covers with a more cohesive look for a series and I really can't wait to share those with you! Ill fated will be the kick off for the new look!<div>
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In the mean time, so as not to be a total tease.... here's a little excerpt to wet your whistle!</div>
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<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"You're awake?" He
sounded more than a little surprised.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"I'm not really sure the
state I'm in qualifies as awake." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Here I was, terrified to
poke the dragon, and you're already drinking coffee and talking in complete
sentences." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I snorted and took a sip of the
aforementioned liquid gold. "Are you always like this in the
morning?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"If you'd let me sleep
over you'd already know the answer to that question. Why aren't you
asleep?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">In general or just tonight, I
silently wondered. "Bad dream. I've been tossing and turning all night. I
finally gave in and got out of bed."
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Papers rustled in the
background and when he spoke again, his voice was lower, intimate."You
want to talk about it?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Something tells me my
nightmares are the least of our problems."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"You have no idea. I need
you to come down to my office."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I sighed. "Can it at least
wait until after sunrise?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Would I be breaking the <i>no phone calls before noon </i>policy if it
could wait?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">“There really is no rest for
the wicked, is there?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He laughed and the sound warmed
me more than a hundred cups of coffee. "Apparently not, in your case. Now,
there's a dirty chai latte and a croissant for you if you're here before
Amalie. I can't promise real coffee and pastries will survive beyond five
minutes of her arrival." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"It's four-thirty in the
morning, Mas. If you know what's good for you, you'll make sure at <i>least </i> one dirty chai and croissant remain
unmolested." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"I'll see you soon."
He was laughing as he hung up the phone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Three hours ago I’d practically
crawled through the doorway, exhausted from cleaning up after a newbie vamp
who’d broken the Jus Sanguinis Intergentes when she killed her donor. The blood
pact between people and vampires had a clear no killing, no exceptions clause.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">It was up to the maker to
ensure their child was ready to feed unsupervised. If something went wrong and
the Council found out about it, we cleaned up the mess and the sire was subject
to heavy fines and possible revocation of their rights to expand their blood
lines. She’d been quite literally a bitch to track and take down.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">It had been a long night and it
was shaping up to be an even longer day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I wasted little time getting
dressed, opting for a slip on black jersey dress, eighteen hole Docs and a
leather jacket. Jewelry was a hindrance in my line of work. My meeting with
Mason could easily turn into a run. Choked with my own chain? No, thank you.
Unclasping the necklace, I set it in a glass dish on my bathroom counter. I ran
a brush through my hair, a toothbrush over my teeth and slipped into the
between. I stepped out of the alley two buildings down from the station and
walked the last block and a half. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Amalie was swarmed by
detectives trying to get at the goodies she brought over from the Daily Grind.
She greeted me with a warm smile, shaking her head when I offered to pull her
out of the fray. She had managed to endear herself to the entire department in
record time. All it took was real coffee and fresh pastries. I pointed to
Mason's office. She'd make her way over once the starving masses had their
fill.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Mason was so engrossed in the
file on his desk he didn't hear me come in. He looked as tired as I felt - too
many double shifts. Despite an uptick in activity, SPTF was short staffed due
to budget cuts. Without enough man power to staff the shifts properly overtime
was mandatory. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Is that for me?" I
pointed at the to-go cup and white paper bag on his desk. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He finally looked up and gave
me a smile which lit up his whole face. "As promised." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I stole a quick kiss, grabbed
the coffee and croissant, and settled in the chair across from him. I took a
long sip of my latte, savoring the delicious mix of tea and espresso.
"Man, I needed this. Is that the case you're working on?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Yeah, we've got a real
problem on our hands." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Don't we always." I
tried to peak at the file. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Mason closed the manila folder.
"I'd rather wait until everyone is here." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Who else is coming
besides Amalie?" My curiosity was definitely peaked now. I reached across
his desk, hoping to grab the file. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"You look exhausted. Tell
me about your dream while we wait."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I narrowed my eyes and glared
at him. "I see this for the obvious distraction it is but you're right.”
Sighing, I rubbed my temple.“However, I'm exhausted, too exhausted to argue. So
I'll tell you. Prepare to be confounded." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He listened intently as I
filled him in on the nightly visits from the weathered old woman who washed my
clothes and hauntingly called my name. I expected him to laugh and tell me it
was just a dream, that I had nothing to worry about.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I didn't expect him to look so
stricken. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Bean Nighe." He all
but whispered the name. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"You've heard of
her?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Of course I've heard of
her. How long has she been coming to you?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I stared at him curiously. "A
few weeks. Why?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"A few weeks and this is
the first I'm hearing of it?” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath,
obviously struggling to control his temper.“We talked about this. No holding
things back, remember?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"I thought it was just a
dream.” I shrugged.“Honestly, I didn't think it was a big deal."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"It was a big enough deal
for you to research it." Agitation rolled off him in waves. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">When I agreed to give this
thing with Mason a chance I also agreed to some conditions. No more flying
solo, no more rash decisions or rushing off to play the hero. We were a team,
in everything. This was just one of many set-backs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"I got curious, did a
little digging. Until tonight, everything I found pointed to deep seated family
issues, particularly with a mother figure. I've told you about my childhood,
does that dream analysis surprise you?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">His growl told me he wasn’t in
the mood for reasonable—at least to me—explanations. "When did you
discover the true meaning of the dream? How long have you known about the Bean
Nighe?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Tonight. This morning.
Before you called me." I held up a hand to stop the tongue lashing I knew
he wanted to give me. "I would have told you. I got the impression on the
phone there were more pressing matters than my insomnia." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Is this why you won't let
me stay at your place?” His gaze roamed over my face, searching.“Why you never
stay at mine?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"Is that the real reason
why you're so upset?" I arched my brows. “Because we’re not having
sleepovers?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"I stayed at your lovely
apartment the first night we met." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I turned to watch Aidan glide into the room, stopping behind
my chair. Rolling my eyes, I snorted and muttered, “In the closet.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Mason's jaw twitched but he
didn't take the bait. "Aidan." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">"It's almost sunrise.
Shouldn't you be hunkered down for the day?" I sighed, wondering what he
was doing here. I was too tired to deal with Aidan and Mason and their combined
testoserone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Putting the three of us in a room together was
like throwing lit matches at sticks of dynamite - eventually one of them will
explode.</span></div>
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Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-79252795715759957882014-12-24T05:53:00.001-05:002014-12-30T07:04:00.731-05:00Mistletoe Meltdown Free Holiday Short<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbir3ILCh97lMVbhCmGJJPN-LB2XCqIFWv2ZHKZX-5yJNSANCw8kuTObZitmXwyrTWqIfbfx9vDUytB2kHR132IclOiGUhxqW2WDomVMI427S2-b36oAMJ17Whtv1YKFduSCyHemyLawHQ/s1600/Holiday_BlogBanner_PSD_02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbir3ILCh97lMVbhCmGJJPN-LB2XCqIFWv2ZHKZX-5yJNSANCw8kuTObZitmXwyrTWqIfbfx9vDUytB2kHR132IclOiGUhxqW2WDomVMI427S2-b36oAMJ17Whtv1YKFduSCyHemyLawHQ/s1600/Holiday_BlogBanner_PSD_02.jpg" height="74" width="320" /></a></div>
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Happy Holidays! I can't believe it's that time of year again. They say time flies as you get older. I found that especially true this year. It's been a challenging year. Full of ups and downs, heartache and great joy. But that's life right? Those of you following me on FaceBook know that my family suffered a great loss with the passing of my nana and I made the difficult decision to postpone Ill Fated. Words couldn't seem to find their way to the page, the creative flow with damned up with stress and grief. I was in a funk. But as the new year approaches I see myself coming through, the light at the end of the tunnel. In a writing exercise to lure the muse back into my writing cave I decided to write a little holiday short- with the intention of sharing it with all of you. I think it turned out alright. ;) </div>
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So here it is.... Mistletoe Meltdown. A little gift of thanks- for reading, and well, just being there. Your support this year has meant more to me than you'll know. I am blessed and so thankful to have such wonderful friends and readers like all of you! xo</div>
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**This short contains spoilers for those who have not read Blood Bath, book 4.**</div>
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<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Chestnuts roasting
on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose. Yuletide carols being sung by
a choir and folks dressed up like Eskimos."</span></i><span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> Nat
King Cole's smooth voice blared from the outdoor speakers hidden in the
greenery that turned the walking mall into a winter wonderland, soothing the
savage holiday shopping beasts surrounding me. I tried not to overanalyze the
lyrics but I'd met the Hoar Frost King once and he'd do a lot more than nip at
your nose. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Besides, did anyone really have a Christmas like the ones
people sang about? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The Kincaides, my adoptive family, practiced every holiday
tradition from Midnight Mass to the extravagant family dinner to a house staged
similar to something from a <i>Martha
Stewart Living</i> magazine. It didn't change anything. The tinsel and
twinkling lights only highlighted the hatred. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">So imagine my enthusiasm when my real father Arawn suggested
we have a Christmas/Solstice dinner. With friends. At my apartment. I
understood his need to create memories--he'd missed out on most of my life--but
as a self-proclaimed Scrooge I'd avoided anything to do with the holidays since
I'd left Beacon Hill at seventeen. But here I was layered up underneath my
leather jacket, knit hat pulled down to my eyebrows, basically dressed like the
aforementioned Eskimo. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The numbness in my hands increased with each block I walked
back to my car. Not from the cold--my purple wool gloves did a decent job--but
from the shopping bags cutting of my circulation. I loaded up the Rabriolet, an
old metallic blue VW so named because the guy who sold it took all the Rabbit
badges off and replaced them with Cabriolet, the convertible's small trunk
barely holding my haul of gifts and groceries for tonight's festivities. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The temperature inside the car barely rose a degree above
the outside temperature during the short drive back to my apartment. I pulled
into the parking space I'd shoveled out this morning after the snow stopped but
didn't rush to get out of the car. Two pep talks later I dragged myself and my
multitude of bags up the three flights of stairs which led to my place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">In a few hours every seat in the house would be filled. All
of my friends and new family were invited, something else my father insisted
upon. The list wasn't long--my apartment is just that small. Four fae including
Conry, three vampires, two wolves, one witch--and a partridge in a pear tree. I
set the groceries on the kitchen counter and dropped the rest of the bags by
the tree I'd yet to decorate. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Mason - the boyfriend – had had a beautiful Nordmann fir
delivered this morning. Its symmetrical branches created the perfect pyramid of
lush foliage. Mrs. Kincaide would have been green with envy, a shade deep
enough to rival the dark color of the needles. The tree's heavy aroma, combined
with the cinnamon scented pine cones in a bowl on the coffee table, made the
entire apartment smell like a traditional Christmas but I'd chosen a winter
wonderland theme for the decorations to represent the Solstice. Glittering
white snowflakes and icicles spilled out of boxes, waiting to be hung. Three strands
of new led lights lay next to the crystal snowflake I’d chosen instead of the
usual angel or star. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Overwhelmed barely began to describe how I felt when I
looked at all the things still undone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I decided to prep the food and save the tree for last. Far
from domesticated, I fumbled my way through the only recipe for a main course I
thought I could manage, root vegetables, sliced and diced with pot roast. I
opened a bottle of Menage a Trois, letting the red wine breathe before I poured
the first glass. Several more bottles of wine and liquor lined the counter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Once the oven preheated I slid the roast in and focused my
attention on dessert. In other words I took the pastries I purchased from the
bakery beneath Mason's apartment in town and arranged them on a platter. With a
wine glass in one hand and a bottle in the other I went back to the tree,
stringing the lights and hanging each ornament carefully. Conry stayed on the
couch, watching me walk circles around the tree as I pondered the age old
question - to tinsel or not to tinsel? Satisfied with the way everything looked
I opted against it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Three different offers to help get everything ready and I
turned down everyone. I needed the time alone, cooking and decorating, to
mentally prepare myself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Ten yuletides had come and gone since the last time I took
part in any festivities. A farewell if you will. I walked out of Castle
Kincaide on New Year's Eve. The symbolism was lost on everyone but me. This
time of year meant something entirely different to me. It wasn't a religious
experience. For me it was a rebirth. Like a phoenix, I left my old life in
ashes and rose up from the smoldering embers as something new--my own person.
After giving it some thought, I realized what the season meant to me was
remarkably similar to my father's Solstice—a celebration of the life, death and
rebirth of deities.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">With less than an hour to spare before everyone arrived, it
was time to wrap presents. I voted against the idea of giving gifts, having
recalled the time I saved my lunch money to buy something for my little sister
Frankie and my parents at the holiday bazaar at school. Saying it didn’t go
well would be an understatement. After that, I'd pretty much sworn off gift
giving. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">However, I’d been outvoted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Now I sat before a pile of boxes, tissue paper, scotch tape,
wrapping paper and bows. At the greeting card store I'd started with an armful
of gift bags because I didn't think my duct tape gift wrap idea would be
appreciated but as I approached the register I noticed all the different types
of wrapping paper. Dazzled by the array of patterns and colors, I'd come to a
conclusion. Gift bags were a cop-out. If I had to do it, it wouldn't be half
ass. I'd selected nine rolls of paper, one for each gift, something that
represented the recipient. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">For Arawn, silver paper embossed with a winter scene of
stags and trees which for some reason reminded me of my first encounter with
him. The dark green paper with silver stags and evergreens I picked for Mason was
perfect for the hunter in the family and similar enough to my father's to
acknowledge both as members of the Wild Hunt. Camo for Cash, a nod to his
special ops days and the way we first met. My pick for Nolak didn't come from
the Christmas paper but the midnight blue with silver wolves still seemed
appropriate. I chose white paper with glittering snowflakes for Amalie, the
sparkles reminding me of her personality.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Aidan and Ryanne had similar plaids in rich shades of
burgundy and green, a nod to the new clan they were forming together. For Dre
it wasn't so much the green paper as the beautiful cream colored french ribbon.
And for my beloved Conry I selected the biggest red bow I could find. With my
decision to personalize each package came the first stirrings of holiday
spirit. Each gift wrapped and placed under the tree stirred up a little bit
more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">By the time everyone began to arrive I'd finished the first
bottle of wine and felt down right merry. Amalie brought a beautiful tray of cheeses,
fruit and nuts. Aidan brought a case of bottled blood for himself, Ryanne and
Dre. Cash and Nolak carried in an alarming amount of holiday music and movies. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Mason brought a bough of mistletoe, holding it above our
heads as he crossed the threshold. That was a holiday tradition I could get
behind. I stepped into him, softly kissing the lips I'd been missing all day.
His other arm wrapped around me, pressing our bodies together as he deepened
the kiss and silently promised more. Satisfied with my weakened knees and rapid
heart he walked me into the living room before making a beeline to the tree, where he
hung a beautiful ice blue glass letter <i>M</i>
ornament. It stood out from all the others, because I knew it was more than my
first initial. It was his as well, a symbol of us. I felt the ice around my
heart melt a little bit more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">All these emotions called for more wine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">My father arrived, arms full of packages and party trays
with a contagious smile on his face. When I returned his smile with one of my own,
his comment on how much I looked like my mother had me scurrying off to check
on the roast. I blamed the lingering teary eyes on the blast of hot air which
escaped when I opened the oven. With no pending disaster or threat of death the
evening already felt a lot like one of those Christmas songs I heard earlier in
the day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Cash gathered us all in the living room for one of his
family's favorite traditions. After taking a few jabs about it being too cold
outside to play fetch he turned on <i>A
Christmas Story </i>while the rest of us ruined our dinner with more drinks and
appetizers. While the credits rolled he told us about Christmas morning as a
kid, they'd open presents, stay in their pajamas and watch the all-day marathon
of the movie until it was time for dinner. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">His comment reminded me to check on the roast. I waved off
the offers of help in the kitchen, preferring to listen to all of them swap
stories of varied holiday celebrations and traditions, something I'd never
experienced growing up despite appearances. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I served the best dinner I'd ever cooked. The only real
dinner I'd ever cooked actually. There were no awkward and uncomfortable
silences during the meal. Not even between Ryanne and I. My father convinced me to invite her with a
speech about how things worked out for the best and a new slight wouldn't
repair old wounds. The conversation flowed and I fed Conry under the table
while my father regaled us with tales of the great Solstice feasts in the days
when only one court ruled the Fae. Most of my roast beef made it into Conry's
mouth before my father stopped mid-sentence to point out he knew what I was
doing and remind me that Cwnn Anfwnn did not eat table scraps. With a wink in
my direction he went back to his story and I finished my potatoes and carrots.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">By the time his story ended every plate was cleared. Not a
drop of blood or morsel of food remained. Glasses were raised and toasts were
made, for the hostess, for the meal and for the witch who obviously spelled my
kitchen to produce delicious food regardless of who cooked it. I'd seen and
done some weird stuff in my life. A holiday party with vampires, werewolves,
fae and a witch should be on that list but it wasn't. It was as close to
perfection as I'd experienced.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Like the proverbial kid on Christmas, Amalie ushered
everyone back into the living room to open the bar and our gifts before
dessert. I whole-heartedly supported her plan because there was no way I could
eat another bite. With a vodka and cranberry juice in hand I settled on the
couch with Mason and Conry. Amalie took on the roll of Santa, passing out gifts
to everyone. I watched as the beautiful paper and bows piled up, the carnage of
Christmas spread across my carpet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">My anxiety built as I waited for my gifts to be opened. Why
were mine handed out last? Why was this such a big deal? If they didn't like
what I picked out I had gift receipts, they could just exchange it for
something else. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">So why did it feel like they'd be rejecting me instead?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> Conry, always in tune
with my emotional state, picked up on my unrest and nestled in closer as a sign
of support. Mason threw an arm over my shoulder and pulled me against his
chest, whispering in my ear. "Take a deep breath. Relax. They're gifts,
not grenades." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"I think I'd handle it better if they were. It's
just... Forget it. I'm great, everything is great." I looked up at him
with my best smile in place knowing full well he wasn't fooled. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Mason gave my hand a little squeeze as Dre opened his gift,
whispering reassurances he would love whatever was inside. I remained skeptical
until the hand carved pipe and tobacco came out of the box and Dre lit up. I
considered letting him smoke in my apartment after seeing his smile when I told
him the clerk at the cigar shop said the tobacco smelled like sugar cookies. He
assured me he could wait to go outside until after everyone opened their gifts.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Amalie picked up a box, grinning when she realized it was
from me. The sparkly paper matched the excitement in her eyes, just like I’d
thought it would. She carefully slit the taped seams so the heavy paper didn't
tear and pulled it back from the box. "We used to make book covers out of
pretty paper like this when I was a kid. I've got a journal at home this would
be perfect for." She lifted the lid on the box, gasping when she saw the
grimmoire inside. "Are you serious? This is freaking amazing! It's way
better than the Swavorski crystal skull earrings I got you."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">“I guess this is my clue to open your gift.” I reached in
the gift bag and pulled out the green tissue paper to reach the jewelry inside.
The earrings were beautiful and obviously custom-made, eight tiny silver
interlocking loops creating a chain effect and held a black crystal skull.
Mason swept my hair back, holding it in a makeshift ponytail so I could hook
them in. I didn't wear a lot of jewelry. In my line of work, earrings could
cost you an earlobe but these were surprisingly light weight and went perfectly
with just about everything I owned, so I could definitely wear them on my off
time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Tired of waiting, Conry sniffed around the
tree until he found the giant bone and collar I got him. Not interested in the
collar, he left it under the tree and dragged the rawhide off to the corner.
The sound of crunching and gnawing drowned out Danny Elfman's song <i>Making Christmas</i> playing on one of
Cash's cds. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Aidan wrapped himself up in the charcoal cashmere scarf and
donned the silk and cashmere grey herringbone ivy cap, impressed I'd remembered
his measurements. I'd put the least amount of thought into Ryanne's green scarf
but she seemed to like it. The wolf sculpture I bought for Nolak and the small
oil painting of an alpha and his pack in the moonlight I found for Cash were a
big hit. You'd be more likely to find weapons than art at either of their places
but I could tell they appreciated the likeness to their wolves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Surrounded by books, band shirts and chocolate covered
espresso beans, I'd already given and received some pretty awesome gifts. But
the two presents yet to be opened were the ones I was the most excited about. I
watched nervously as my father finally picked my gift, taking his time and
examining the pattern on the paper. He finally unwrapped it and opened the box,
pulling out the pocket watch. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"So you can keep track of time here when you're in
Other World." I blurted out the reasoning behind the gift before I could
catch myself, cursing under my breath. I sounded way too desperate for approval
and I knew it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He pressed the button on the top of the watch. With a soft
click it popped open, exposing the inside cover. His thumb traced the edge of
the gold circle before resting on the black and white picture of me inside.
"If only it kept track of you." He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to
my forehead. "I have been given two priceless treasures in my life. This
is one. The other is you."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">As if by magic, and maybe it was knowing my father, he held
open his hand. A small portraitin a simple oval shaped wooden frame sat center
of his palm. "It is the only picture I have of her and now it belongs to
you. She swore allowing someone to capture her image also meant they could
capture a piece of your soul. She gave the artist less than an hour to paint
her likeness. I have our life together, all of the memories. Every time I close
my eyes she dances on the edge of my vision. You should have something of
her."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I managed not to cry. Barely. I considered myself a hard ass
but damn it all if my father didn't have me on the verge of tears twice in one
night. "I don't know what to say. Thank you." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"I'm next." Mason shifted on the couch, preparing
to give me my present when my phone started going off. "Seriously? You
have got to be kidding me." Mason muttered under his breath along with a
few other choice words about what he planned to do to whoever was on the other
end of the line. His voice was low enough I barely heard him so I was pretty
sure no one else did but it definitely had me wondering what exactly my Solstice
gift was. "Whoever it is, they can wait. Everyone who matters is here so
it can't be that important, right?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"What if it's Council business? You are the Regulator,
after all." Aidan seemed all too eager for me to answer my phone which
made me even more suspicious. Did he know what my present was? I was getting
the impression it was something bigger than the Shamrock Fest concert tickets I
asked for. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The ringtone, which happened to be set to Bad Religion's
version of Father Christmas, meant it wasn't a number in my contacts. I liked
to assign ringtones so I knew who called without needing to actually look at
the phone. IfAgrona was calling, my phone would play the Wicked Witch theme
song from <i>Wizard of Oz,</i> so I knew it
wasn't her. Before I could explain that to everyone so we could get back to the
giving and receiving of gifts and I could find out what Mason was up to, my
phone gave us yet another lesson about the materialistic nature of the holidays
in the form of a catchy punk tune. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Still not adjusted to her sensitive vampiric hearing, Ryanne
jumped from her seat, raced into the kitchen, snatched my phone off the counter
and tossed it across the apartment. Dre threw a hand out and caught my phone
before it connected with my face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Sorry, if you don't mind getting that." Ryanne
sat back down and delicately crossed her legs, her hands resting on her knee. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"I was kind of in the middle of something here."
Mason didn't hide his disappointment at the interruption but waved me on.
"Go ahead, get it. Whoever it is isn't going to stop."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Kincaide here." Not the most professional
greeting but it worked for me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Maurin, it's Mike over at the bar. Sorry to call on
your personal cell like this but we've got trouble." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I skipped the bad joke about trouble literally being in the
name of the bar. "I wouldn't have given you the number if I never expected
you to call. However, I'm kind of in the middle of a solstice party right now
and since I'm the hostess I can't really leave. Why are you laughing? Do you
have a problem or not?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Sorry, it’s just I never pictured you as a hostess.
And yes, we have a problem here."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"I'll have you know I make an apron look damn good.
Anyway, as I was saying, I can't come down right now but the Council's got a
small team on call for nights I'm off. I can have Amalie put a call in to
Agrona now if you want." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Amalie's there? Good, that will save me a call. Bring
her with you." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Mike, did you even hear what I said? I can't come down
there." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"This isn't like a rowdy group of college kids on Black
Out Wednesday or some drunk who can't handle their Solstice shooters. There's
something weird about these witches, Maurin. Their magic feels dirty. They've
run off most of my regulars. I don't want some half ass crew coming in here and
busting my bar all to hell. I'm asking you to do it. Or do I need to remind you
of the outstanding bar tab you and your friends ran up last weekend."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Hey, you said that was on the house since we tossed
those two fang bangers and their pimp out of the bar for you. We came in to
have a quick drink after closing a case. You didn't even know they were setting
up shop selling nips and sips by the pool tables." I couldn't believe Mike
was trying to drop that bill on me. I drank a lot of damn vodka I wouldn't have
if I'd known I was paying for it. Aidan was our designated driver but the rest
of our team drank their weight in booze and blood. It would take a week's wages
to pay the bill and Mike's prices weren't that high. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Well, I never asked you to throw them out and I never
put in a formal request for a cleaner so far as I can tell, you owe for the
bill. Now, you can come down here and settle up. I'll take it in cash or
services. It's up to you." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Someone is going to put in a formal request for a
cleaner for you if I come down there tonight, Mike. I can't believe you're
pulling this shit." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Maurin, what are we arguing about here? You’re the
Regulator. It's your job. And I'm telling you right now, if those newbies show
up instead of you, the Council's on the hook for the damages and you're on the
hook for the tab." Mike hung up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Typically, when a cleaning crew goes in the hiring party is
responsible for any damages. When the Council is the hiring party, our fees and
any damages are paid out of the seized funds from the guilty party. I knew Mike
would pay for damages regardless of the newbie team. There was no way the Council
would agree because then everyone else would want damages covered and there
goes the profit margin. Still, the hassle of dealing with Mike and the Council
while they argued wasn't worth it because then I'd have to send a message to
pay and find another bar to drink at. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">And I really liked Toil and Trouble.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I looked at my father, then at Mason silently asking their
approval to go. The party had been more for the two of them than anyone else
and I didn't want to ruin it, although I was pretty sure Mike already had. The
rest of the evening would be tainted, a cloud hanging over us raining <i>what ifs</i> all over the party.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"I'm coming with you." Mason looked a bit broken-hearted
that Mike ruined his big moment and I wondered again exactly what his gift for
me was. "Go get changed." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Torn between the first holiday happiness I'd ever
experienced and the rush of the chase, I gave him a quick kiss and headed for
my bedroom. I swapped my black leggings and black cotton skirt for a pair of
jeans but kept the Grinch tee, slipping on my oxblood eight hole Docs and pulling
on my knitted cap with the skull on it and my leather jacket. A lot less layers
than when I went shopping but I could not kick ass if I looked like the Staypuft
Marshmallow Man. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"You're going to freeze." Mason wrapped a scarf
around my neck and tucked it into my coat. "Let's go. Aidan's already
warming up the car."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"We'll meet you there." Cash stood up, Nolak
beside him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"There's no sense in ruining everyone's night. Stay
here with Arawn and Ryanne. It's just a few witches who had too much to drink,
popping spells at Mike and the customers. We'll be in and out." I tugged
my knit hat over my ears.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Mike wouldn't have called you on your cell if it was
that easy." Cash zipped up his coat. Wolves ran hotter than the rest of
us, something to do with their metabolism, but their skin would still be
exposed to the elements so contrary to popular belief werewolves did not run
around half naked all the time. Especially not in the winter. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Just stay, we can handle it. We'll be back before you
know it. Tonight was going great, like perfect. If you leave then my father
probably will and then Ryanne will be alone in my apartment. Seriously,
stay."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Cash smirked, knowing that the idea of Ryanne alone at my
place would have me worried the entire time that she'd be rooting through my
stuff. She'd given no signs of being a snoop, quite the opposite in fact, since
she was Mason's trusted housekeeper in Ireland before being turned by Aidan. Still,
you couldn’t be too careful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"So you'll wait?" I asked, before whistling for
Conry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"If you're not back by…" Cash looked at his watch.
"Eleven, we're coming after you." He glanced at Nolak, who nodded his
agreement. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">That gave us two hours to get there, bust up the band of
rowdy witches, and get back. Piece of cake. We'd be back well before midnight
and the official moment of Solstice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">We piled, or rather squeezed, into the Camaro. Amalie rode
shotgun while I sat in the back sandwiched between Mason and Conry. It took
less than fifteen minutes to get to the bar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Abandoned by his regulars and even a couple staff members,
Mike stood alone behind the counter. A few broken liquor bottles dripped their
contents onto the shelves beneath them behind him. The jukebox's neon lights
flickered, highlighting the broken glass around it. I'd played Joan Jett's <i>Bad Reputation</i> more times than I could
count on that thing. It would be a shame to see it replaced with satellite
radio.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">A cue ball rolled across the floor from the busted pool
table in the back, breaking the heavy silence which hung in the air. He wasn't
kidding when he called. The place was trashed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Where's Josh and Malcolm?" I asked, concerned
that the two guys who normally bounced for him weren't stationed at the door or
anywhere in sight. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"They're gone." His eyes quickly shifted to his
feet and back up, letting me know <i>gone</i>
meant dead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"You said you had some trouble with a couple patrons
tonight?" I scanned the bar, my friends fanning out behind me but I
couldn't sense anyone else inside. "You manage to run them off on your
own?" I knew he hadn't. My skin crawled from the dark energy swirling
around us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"It's a cloaking spell." Amalie whispered in my
ear, seconds before a blast of magic was fired in our direction. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I shoved her down and dove to my right, flipping a table and
two chairs, bruising my hip on the way down. Acid ate through the floor next to
Amalie. They’d tried to hit me, not her. I couldn't say I was entirely
surprised since I was responsible for the trial and conviction of Salem's High Priestess.
Mahalia tried to murder me but that point seemed irrelevant to most of the
witches left behind. I used the table as a shield, peering over the top to get
a look at our attackers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The cloaking spell lost its usefulness the moment they fired
their first shot. Four witches stood before us, one of them holding a hostage.
I'd seen the girl in here before, usually after she finished a shift at the
Stop 'n' Shop. Just a townie out for a drink, caught up in a shit storm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The witch held onto her despite her struggles to break free,
one hand crushing her throat. She stopped fighting when he pressed his pointer
finger to her temple, his hand in the shape of a gun. Her eyes grew wide with
fear, tears slipping down her cheeks. With that kind of reaction, she'd seen
him do this to someone else and knew the gesture wasn't just pretend. I figured
there were more than two bodies lying behind that bar with Mike. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Amalie fired a blast of her own magic back.
Since taking my place as liaison, she hadn't been in the line of fire but she
showed no signs of rust. Amalie hit the hostage in the chest, knocking her back
and out of the arms of the black witch before he fired his shot. The girl
dropped to the ground, scurrying away as the misfire of dark magic hit the long
mirror behind Mike, raining shards of glass everywhere. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Mike ducked down behind the counter, shouting profanities
and promises that they were going to pay for this. I still wasn't sure who they
were, these witches didn't look local, but Mike was right. They were going to
pay.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The poor girl from the grocery store didn't make it very
far. Another witch snatched her hair, pulling her up off the floor. The girl
didn't struggle, she simply hung limp from the witch's hands as the life was
sucked out of her. Renewed power and strength radiated from the witch as she
tossed the withered husk of a girl on the floor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Magic exploded.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Frigid air rushed in through the blown out windows and
doors. Amalie stood in the center of her circle of protection. She'd set it
fast and wide enough to protect us all. Black orbs, curses meant to kill,
exploded harmlessly around us. Safe for the moment, but no closer to stopping
the dark witches. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"You can't stay in that circle forever, Regulator.
We've got all night. Your little witch will tire eventually, one of the dark
witches called out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">So they knew who I was. They came for me. Wasn't the first
time, wouldn't be the last. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"He's right. We can't stay in here forever." Dre
opened and closed his fists, obviously itching to be released from the
protective bubble. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Four witches, powerful witches, using blood magic. If
I drop this shield they'll hit us with death curses. I don't think I can stop
them all." The sparkle left Amalie's eyes, the fear I felt that we might
not make it out alive mirrored in her gaze.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Then it's a good thing I'm mostly dead already."
Dre broke through the circle, charging forward when the mini-blood coven
expected us to cower.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">From there, chaos ruled. Magic exploded in all directions as
Amalie countered their attack. Aidan and Dre moved lightning fast, catching one
of the witches from behind. I'd never seen someone drawn and quartered before.
I could do without seeing it again. The torso fell to the floor, each vampire
tossing limbs as they rushed for the next.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">A second later, two stakes flew through the air. Dre took
one in the chest, dropping instantly. Aidan tried to block the one aimed for
him, the sharpened Rowan wood going through his hand, pinning it to his chest.
Still, he rushed forward, slashing out with his good hand. He struck the witch
hard, shredding flesh and knocking her back to Conry so my guardian could
finish the job. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Two down and two to go. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Mason and I ran toward the dark witches, dodging black
curses and being peppered with lead buckshot. I took a hit in the left
shoulder. Mason took one in the ribs but we pressed forward. Daggers drawn I
dropped, sliding across a floor I would have preferred never to come in contact
with and slicing the Achilles tendon of the witch closest to me. Mason caught
him as his leg gave out, snapping his neck on the way down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Amalie threw out a spell, slamming it into the last witch. Apparently
satisfied with the results of her magic, she toed the unconscious dark witch. "Hmm,
it worked."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"You weren't sure?" Dre muttered from the floor,
rubbing the spot where Aidan pulled the stake out of his chest. Half an inch
more and he wouldn't have been able to say anything at all. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"It's a binding spell out of the book Maurin gave me.
You can't always tell with the older grimmoires, a lot of them are fakes, but I
figured it was worth a shot." Amalie pulled out her cell to call Agrona.
If a blood coven came to take me out and look for new recruits, the Council
needed to be notified. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"What's that mark? There on his wrist, some sort of
tattoo?" I pulled the witch's sleeve up to get a better look at the
design. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"It's not a tattoo. It's drawn on the skin, some sort
of black grease paint." Mason pulled out his phone and took a picture of
the pattern which went further up the dead man’s forearm than I’d originally
thought. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Some sort of warding?" I took a picture with my
own phone. The more documentation, the better. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"None I've ever seen." Apparently as baffled by
the symbols as the rest of us, Amalie leaned in for a closer look. "I've
never seen anything like these." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Mason gently moved Amalie's hand away. "Don't
touch." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Why, do you think it's a curse?" Amalie pulled
her hand back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"I'm not sure but I don't think we should touch
it." Mason thought for a moment. "Can you loosen the binding spell?
Enough to ask him a few questions but not enough he can go back to slinging
curses at us?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"The only way to truly stop a witch from spelling is to
cut out their tongue, eyes, and cut off their hands." Amalie frowned.
"I don't know if I should tweak the spell." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">The witch on the floor seized, spittle landing on the corner
of his chin. We watched him die, unable to stop it. He wasn't talking to
anyone. Ever again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Nothing left to do but wait for the crew on call to come and
clean up. The same crew I tried to send when Mike called in the first place.
They'd set the place right, wipe it clean, and then we'd all be on the trail of
the blood coven moving into Salem. We knew there were more than four and we
planned on finding them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I left Mike bitching about the state of the bar, reminding
him he’d insisted I come down and clear out the dark witches. Job done. Payment
for damages and the crew would come from the dead witches’ accounts. Just as
soon as we found out who they were. More motivation for the second string
coming in behind us to work faster and harder. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Mason followed me outside with my knit hat and scarf in his
hands. "You're going to freeze." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"It's not any warmer in there." I leaned in when
he wrapped my scarf around my neck, stealing a quick kiss.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He pulled the small bough of mistletoe from inside his coat
pocket, not one berry or leaf crushed. How had he managed to keep it safe
during the meltdown inside Toil and Trouble? Luck or a little solstice magic?
Probably both.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I didn't wait for him to hold it up above our heads.
Cradling his face with both hands, I drew him in. Our lips touched, gently at
first, until the lingering adrenaline from the fight inside ignited our passion
for one another. His hand slid along my back pressing me against him, moving
lower, easing inside my back jeans pocket.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">With one hand fisted in his hair, I slid the other up his
shirt, tracing my fingertips along each perfectly defined muscle. In a flurry
of hands and lips, he backed me against the wall, the icy bricks acting like a
cold shower. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">With a sigh, he dropped his head on my shoulder. "Back
to your place?" <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"We won't be finishing this there, either. The Solstice
party, remember?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"We could go back to my place. We still have about an
hour before Cash sends the pack out." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I rested my head against the bricks, weighing my options
while a crowd formed outside the bar. "We should go back. They'll be
worried." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">He kissed me again, this one shorter than the last but
missing none of the passion. "You're right. They'll be worried."
Another kiss. "We should get back." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"The sooner we get back, the sooner the party will be
over. The sooner everyone will go home." I managed to get out between more
kisses. "And I never got to give you your gift."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"Which reminds me. I never got to give you yours."
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Mason reached in to his inner coat pocket and pulled out a
small turquoise box wrapped with a white ribbon. My heart stammered in my
chest.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">It was a Tiffany's box. Even I recognized that. I also knew
the box was too small for a necklace or a watch. Earrings? I prayed the
beautiful blue box held a pair of extravagant earrings I'd never wear and
insist he take back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I wasn't ready for anything more and I couldn't bear the
thought of losing him because we were at different places in our lives. I'd get
there eventually and staring at that little jewelry box in his hand I realized
I wanted to get there with him. But I knew it was too soon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Some of the people who came out to see what happened to
Mike's bar noticed the box in Mason's hand. So did our friends when they
stepped outside looking for us. A small crowd gathered with eager faces,
waiting for my boyfriend to get on one knee and ask me that magical question
and make me his fiancé.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Everyone except Aidan. He didn't quite have a scowl on his
face but it certainly wasn't joy either. I bit back the fear of saying <i>no</i> in front of all those people or
taking the ring and saying <i>no</i> later
when we were alone as I waited for him to kneel down.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">But he never did. He just opened the box, the tiny hinges
creaking a little. I felt sick. The words <i>don't
throw up, don't throw up</i>, played over and over in my mind. Panicked, I
feared that's how I would end up answering his question.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">When the outside spotlight finally hit the inside of the box,
a sterling silver ring glimmered at me. A ring too big to fit on my finger. A
small silver tag with the Tiffany and Co. logo engraved on one side and a date
engraved on the other. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"It goes with this." Mason held up an ordinary
door key.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">A key ring. The man bought me a key ring from Tiffany's.
Relief and, to my surprise, a little disappointment flooded me. The crowd
dispersed, disappointed they weren't a part of what should be a private moment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I took the key, turning it in my hand. One day he'd give me
a box with an engagement ring inside. One day I'd say yes. The fact he knew
this wasn't the day made me love him even more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I smiled at him. "I think we should go to your
place." <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"What about the Solstice party?" Mason's eyes were
alight with mischief. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Georgia","serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 150%;">"I want to try out my gift. Besides, we've got almost
an hour, remember." I whispered promises to show him why I made the
naughty list and walked off in the direction of his apartment. This was one
solstice neither of us would forget.</span></div>
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Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-1629609142408875952014-08-07T18:18:00.000-04:002014-08-07T18:18:02.910-04:00Ill Fated Cover Reveal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFkHHP1YmmOKr9KhT8vhd7gLGyuEb5NT7VGsEtr4qAo10229qrd-yRDAs2m8-F4aptMdSaQXpAkn9Ga8TfSWGA9oJP3rwfsXYmxgX8v2OArxX74e8Ml0KY6GRHr3Cxf3xGuP-1e5a30n0r/s1600/10555156_10104820289019013_411784202_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFkHHP1YmmOKr9KhT8vhd7gLGyuEb5NT7VGsEtr4qAo10229qrd-yRDAs2m8-F4aptMdSaQXpAkn9Ga8TfSWGA9oJP3rwfsXYmxgX8v2OArxX74e8Ml0KY6GRHr3Cxf3xGuP-1e5a30n0r/s1600/10555156_10104820289019013_411784202_n.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Here it is! It's a little different than my usual cover style bu I am seriously in love with it and owe a huge favor to my friend and fellow author L.M. Pruitt for her cover genius! It's slated for an October 21st release date. Check out the blurb and leave some comments with your thoughts on the cover! I'm excited to hear what you all think. <3<br />
<br />
Ill Fated Book 5 in The Maurin Kincaide Series<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Some things are destined to end in death. After the first
attempt on her life Maurin wasn't scared. Hell, she was almost flattered. But
someone put a price on her head and things are getting complicated. Trouble is
brewing in the fae courts and it’s spilling over into Salem. The UnSeelie Dark
Guard have answered the call for her head on a platter and people closest to
her are disappearing.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Can Maurin master court politics and find her missing men
before someone claims the bounty on her head?</div>
<br />Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-53540473702702046662014-06-21T15:45:00.002-04:002014-06-21T15:45:47.649-04:00The Muse Is Large And In ChargeI've been fighting off the voices of characters for three other books for months. I can bare it no longer. Have no fear, I'm still working on Ill Fated but I needed to do something to placate these new and interesting people taking up residence inside my head. Here's a snipet of the first of the stand alone novels in the pipe line.<br />
<br />
A Haunted Life-<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">My dearest Abigail,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">My heart is cleaved in two
and yet it still beats beneath my chest as if to remind me yours does not. What
cause does the sun have to rise in the morning without you to bask in the
warmth of its rays? Why am I to live when the cause for your death now lay
solely at my feet. My attempt to make a mark on this world, to prove my worth
to your father was an utter failure. Driven to enlist by the shame of my
failure, I almost lost my life and most certainly my sanity in Gettysburg. I
returned to my ancestral home a broken man to find you married to another.
There was no cure for what ailed me but you. How cruel that I would be denied
the one elixir that could save my life, only for it to be given to a man who
did not appreciate the restorative properties of your love. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I can no longer bare the
smell of honeysuckle on a warm summer breeze for I am reminded of our time
together by the creek. The smell of roses torments me as it wafts in through my
bedroom window like the scent of your soap. Your memory clings to everything.
No place is sacred from the haunt of your face, not even the pew where I pray
for release from the pain of loving you. The Lord it seems has turned a deaf
ear to my pleas for help for I am a sinful man. I followed you everywhere when
we were children. As adults I followed you into temptation, coveting my
neighbors wife and finally damnation when I recklessly acted upon it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I became a petty thief,
stealing moments with you, and a liar keeping secrets of our time together. I
foolishly ignored your fears that we had grown careless, brushed aside your
warnings that someone had seen us. I thought I knew anger the first time I saw
marks upon your flawless skin. I thought I knew pain when you told me you could
never see me again. Every emotion I have ever experienced was eclipsed by the
news of your death. You have surely gone to the one place I cannot follow as I
have marred the beauty of my love for you with such an evil deed. Repentance
was no doubt in your final breath but I know not how. I am not remorseful for
the life I took or the life I am about to take. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I remain ever yours, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">Jonathan</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;"><br /></span>Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-8535305658783184932014-06-21T14:17:00.001-04:002014-06-21T14:17:39.223-04:00The BookCon Wrap Up Post I Meant To Write<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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BookCon was an amazing experience! I met so many wonderful people, readers and writers just like me. Librarians, moms and dads out with their kids encouraging their love of reading. Every time I heard, someone say "Hey, I could be spending money on junk. At least it's books, right?", my heart swelled a little bit! This was the first year for the "power reader" one day con attached to BEA and once again ReedPop Promotions out did themselves. It was by far one of the best conventions I have attended to date.<br />
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I don't know if they expected such a huge turnout or level of passion for the authors and the worlds they created. At one point I left Cat Miller at our booth to use the ladies room and the line was so long I had to get out or I would have missed the time for my raffle, lol!<br />
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Speaking of the raffle... I was lucky enough to receive several signed books from some of my favorite authors who are joining me at HallowRead this year, made a basket and raffled those bad boys off. Would you believe the aisle was crammed with people waiting to find out if they won? Because I couldn't! I was totally blown away at the number of people who camped out at our booth half an hour before the winner was set to be announced. They seemed to come in droves after that! It was an amazing day and I will definitely be going back next year.<br />
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<br />Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-20007351919168300922014-05-22T12:52:00.000-04:002014-05-22T12:53:02.070-04:00The Book Con<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This time next week I'll be last minute packing for The Book Con! This is the first year for this one day super convention as part of BEA and my first time participating in any part of BEA. I'm nervous and excited. Thankfully I'll have the wonderful and talented Cat Miller (author of the best selling novels Unbound and Unforgiven) with me all day. We'll be signing books, handing out swag, taking pictures.... in other words living the dream for a a day! Despite the butterflies in my stomach I am really looking forward to it.<br />
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I'll be having a pretty amazing raffle going on at my booth #2966 all day. The winner will be drawn promptly at 3:00pm. If you're at The Book Con be sure to come by and enter for a chance to win a basket of signed books and swag from some of the leading authors in genre fiction. They're not only talented and amazing people but appearing at HallowRead this year as well - more on that in a later post.<br />
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New York is such a cool place to be. The energy, the pace- I love it all. I've given myself a pretty strict food budget so I'm counting on my younger brother- producer, actor and local resident to point me in the direction of the tasty cheap eats the city has to offer. I'll post on my food exploits when I get back!<br />
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Keep an eye on my facebook page (and HallowRead's too) for pics from NY and THe Book Con.<br />
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As always, happy reading,<br />
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<3 RachelRachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-34296971080645303192014-03-23T11:51:00.000-04:002014-03-23T11:51:12.554-04:00Ill Fated book five Finally- a title! Ill Fated is the next book in the series. The Fae have come calling and Maurin will be left with no choice but to answer. A bounty on her head, dark and deadly creatures escaping the Other World- will Maurin be able to keep those around her safe and stay alive?<br />
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I'm really excited about this book and finally putting all the ideas I have scribbled in my notebooks together. More importantly I can't wait to share it with all of you!<br />
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I've also been working on HallowRead, putting together a great line up of authors and events. Some new and familiar faces will be at HR2014. Be sure to check out the website for more details on that.Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4264790798258481987.post-83807987206944473572014-02-23T19:54:00.003-05:002014-02-23T19:54:46.797-05:00Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's been an amazing week and it's all thanks to you! Yes, you! Give yourselves a big pat on the back because Blood Bath is a best selling Horror and Dark Fantasy novel on Amazon. Not only that but both the box set and Blood Bath are Amazon Hot New Releases! You have all been busy spreading the word about The Maurin Kincaide Series and I can't thank you enough! You all rock my socks off! <3<br />
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Book five, as of yet untitled, is already plotted out. I've given myself a few days off to promote Blood Bath but I can't wait to get back to writing. Honestly, it's weird not being holed up in my writer's cave typing away on my tablet. I've got the itch and I need to scratch it. I'll be sure to post a few samples once I've put words on the pages!<br />
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It still blows my mind that people are reading my stories and loving my characters. They're like children. You create them, watch the grow and develop and then send them out into the world - all the while hoping people will love them as much as you do. So I thank you, Maurin, Conry, Aidan, Cash and Mason thank you! There's more in store for Salem and the council. Stay tuned!Rachel Rawlingshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05866305262539268769noreply@blogger.com0