|
Click to set custom HTML
Year of the Fledgling
-- EXCERPT: She pounded on the thick door as hard and loudly as she could. When it began to open and she had her first look at his face again—his features a mask of puzzled bewilderment—the terrible pressure in her chest finally released in a flood, and it all seemed to spill right out of her mouth. “Wha…?” he started to ask. But the flood had already hit her. “I am beyond vexed with you,” she seethed, flinging off her hood so he could see the full extent of her rage before she pushed past him to enter the watchtower. Theron glanced out into the darkening evening as if to make sure she didn’t have anyone else with her, then he shut the door and turned, lifting his eyebrows sternly. “Please tell me you did not walk up here by yourself.” Ignoring his question, she demanded, “Honestly, how could you do this to me?” “Are you absolutely mad?” he challenged right back, just as upset as she, and stormed forward. “What were you thinking? If someone had seen you—” “They would’ve shrugged me off as you! But no one saw me. And I was thinking about how mad I am,” she railed, lifting her chin to meet his swirling, livid gaze. Theron scoffed. “Yes, I can tell you’re unhappy, but that gives you no right to put your very livelihood at stake to come up here and tell me thus.” “It’s my livelihood to worry about, and my right to risk it as I please.” “And you are one of two people left in this entire, bleeding world that I’m allowed to still talk to. So I refuse to let you be so frivolous with your—” “Argh!” she shrieked, lifting her hands and curling her fingers as if to display her claws at him. “You are so maddening.” One of his eyebrows arched, then he burst out grinning. “But am I maddening enough for you to want to kiss me senseless again? Please say yes.” She snorted. “Hardly. You’re certainly maddening enough to make me want to wring your fool neck as hard as I can, though.” Lifting his chin to put his neck on full display, Theron countered, “Well, take your best shot, little healer-in-training. But first, would you at least tell me what I did wrong this time that made you so mad? A fellow appreciates at least knowing why he’s being strangled.” Xia sucked in an irate breath. Then her chin trembled. And finally, the tears that she’d been holding back all the way from Norbin’s pig pen came gushing down her cheeks. “You made me care for you!” she accused, weeping so soundly that her entire body shuddered and she had to cover her mouth with both hands to contain it. 
GIVEAWAY! --
It Feels Like Home
-- EXCERPT: “Hey, baby?” My mom shook my shoulder, and I jumped and her iPad thumped to the carpeted floor. I rubbed my eyes. “Jacie, I told you not to worry about getting a job. We’re fine. You’re exhausted, and you only just got home. We can make it on my paycheck. I appreciate it, but you don’t have to do this.” “I’m not exhausted, I’m a little tired because I got up to talk to Mare this morning. I made her breakfast too–crap, I left dishes everywhere. Sorry mom.” I facepalm. Here I was trying to make her life easier, and I made chores for her. She laughed. “This is your first summer since you left and aren’t doing homework. You should enjoy it. You are done taking care of your dad, you don’t have to take care of us. Your job is to go out and screw up, make me worry, come home late from partying and make questionable choices,” she joked. “You want two Marises?” I smiled. “I worry. I don’t want you to feel you have to work in an Italian Restaurant, feed your family, and take care of your older sister. I’m the mom. It’s okay to be irresponsible. You deserve it. You’ve been very disciplined since you left.” I sighed and nodded. Oddly, I responded to that by getting up and going and making my mom a coffee. She liked the instant type, with so much sugar it would give an elephant cavities, and enough milk to turn it white. “What are you doing, hon?” she asked, watching me. “We’re having a grown up conversation, and you sound a little unbalanced, I’m getting you coffee,” I teased. I stirred the creamer and brought it to the table and sat it down so she’d get the idea that she should relax. “I want to work. It’s boring doing nothing. Plus, I have plenty of time to get up to trouble that will give you graying hair. It doesn’t take a lot of effort to get pregnant, and I can always get someone to buy me alcohol to start an early drinking problem. If something like that would make you happy, I can try either option for you,” I say facetiously. “I would prefer irresponsible drinking without the long term habit. I’m not ready to be a grandmother. Although, I have no doubt, if it happened, you’d step up and handle it better than I did when it happened, and I was an adult when I had Maris. You’re just so put together. I wish you were selfish like your father and Mare. At least I can count on her being useless to me all summer. And I have no use for your dad at all. You’re my golden child, Jacelyn.” “I’ll find a bad crowd and start making friends with questionable characters immediately just for you, mom,” I teased. “Maybe find a guy with a one word name… Rancid? He will ride a motorcycle and not wash.” I moved to the fridge and pulled out the sweet tea I made and poured a tall glass and took a long drink before pouring more and continued. “I’ll shave my head into a mohawk, dye it green and put a hole through my cheek.” My mother smiled broadly, liking this game. “See? Now we’re talking. You’ll have your thing, and Mare will have avoiding reality and things at home, and driving badly. I’m sad now that I didn’t have a son to sneak around with a girl from the wrong side of the tracks, but you and Rancid should have that covered.” I moved to the table and sat on one leg folded beneath me and pointed at her. “You have Peter, and he is dating a boy who is on the wrong side of the closet door.” She waved her head and lifted her cup for a sip, “He’s just one of my girls. I guess I can consider him the daughter sneaking around though.” I loved my mom. She was just one of those people who tried to find the humor in everything. We often had conversations that were ridiculous like this. She told me that her favorite thing was to hear us laugh, and her second favorite thing was to have something to laugh about. The way her mind worked always made me feel better, lighter. My mom put me at ease about serious things. I know Maris took her for granted, but having spent two years with my dad, I appreciated her in a way I never would have had I stayed here. The time apart gave us both a different view of one another. She wasn’t just my mom, she was one of my best friends. “I’ve heard everything you said. I want you to know I like working. I don’t like having all this spare time to sit and kill. It’s boring. I also like the people I work with. It’s healthy, and next week when I get paid, I’d like to take over buying some of the groceries, at least my own.” I held up my hand when she looked like she was going to argue. “I know you can afford it, but I’m going to have to start affording my own things this fall. I’m going to put the rest away for college.” “Jesus, Jacelyn, you’re killing me!” my mom moaned. “Very well. So independent. What are your hours?” “I’m part-time until I get my car, and then I’ll be full-time,” I replied. She nodded. “How are you getting to work in the time being? I feel awful that I never got a second car now.” I saw the lines on her face and reached across the table and tapped the surface. “We are fine. A guy from work is getting me to and from work. Ricky put us on the same shifts so there wouldn’t be any conflicts. I–” I sighed. “Peter stranded me for a date the other night.” She made a face and nodded in a way that said it’s to be expected. “It’s good you have a reliable ride then. Do I need to worry that he’s some thirty-year old pedofile? Or worse a twenty something hottie who sells sex to uptight, responsible types?” I laugh. “Closer on number two, but no cigar. It’s Ky Linley. Maris has already had a fit, so you can relax. He’s a teenage heartbreaker, who I remember well enough, makes fools of young girls. I know his flirting doesn’t mean he likes me.” “Jacelyn,” my mom’s tone is one of understanding. “Just so you know, boys grow up. It’s not all G.I. Joe’s and girls’ panties forever. Don’t discount him just because of something he did when he was a kid. He could surprise you.”
GIVEAWAY! -- |
Archives
November 2025
Categories
All
|
RSS Feed
Photos from Simon_sees, Dmitry Karyshev
