Category Archives: sneak peaks

Southern Discoveries Excerpt…

June is almost at the halfway mark… it is insane but I feel like the days are flying by… on an up note, though, I have found that jumping into another book (and all the writing, plus evil edits) has helped with writer’s depression… it is amazing how the high of having a book reach the publishing stage can disappear so quickly… doubt and depression is just waiting in the wings to swoop in to attack… what to do??? write, write, write… throw in an art project or two… and then write some more…

alright… my first newsletter just went out… sign up HERE …

here is the Exerpt of Southern Discoveries…  check out the first two chapters … now out in eBook and Paperback… here are the Buy Links

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for June art projects, I have been working on some jewelry … I forgot to take a picture of the bracelet I made for my cuz’s (pregnant cuz) for her birthday… braided leather with baby themed charms… (pacifier, crib, stroller, heart that said – made with love, and feet imprints)…

okay… back to the writer’s cave… 😛 happy wordage, tracey

oh… and here is the link to my booklet post… make your own Swag…

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Giving Chase Excerpt

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Giving Chase

by Tracey Clark

My entry in this anthology is Giving Chase… a look at Savien Volt (A character that will drop by in book two of the Finder’s Keepers series)… here is an excerpt …

Savien Volt moved through the closely packed trees, checking for moss and berries, for tree sap and varying ivy plants. He was amazed at the number of potion ingredients to be found in the Kentucky area of Earth-side. Once he finished collecting ingredients from the trees and brush, he had a number of caves to explore for their limestone, bats, and other things that liked to dwell in dark, cool and damp places.

The cool breeze was a welcomed relief on his sweat soaked skin. Savien just needed a few more plants and then he could move into the cooler caves within in the Carter Cave systems to continue his ingredient hunt.

He could feel eyes watching him as he worked but refused to turn around. The man at his back would just have to wait for him to finish searching through the clover patches littering the ground.

If silence could crush the life from a person, Savien would have been in trouble. The power and feeling of anger coming from his visitor added enough weight to interrupt his train of thought. Glancing over his shoulder, he met Anton’s glare. “I already answered you, so why are you here?”

Antonius ‘Anton’ Slade moved slowly but with purpose as Savien turned back to his work. Moving around Savien’s kneeling form, he got down in the dirt and grass. Picking through the clover, Anton remained silent.

Savien worked to fill his potion’s satchel, but finally stopped. “I do not have time.” Still Anton said nothing, continuing to dig through the clover. “I mean it Anton. I have one week to collect all I need for the Queen. One week, and I still need to go through the caves. One week and I go back through the nearest portal. I need to get to work on the potions and spells that will help to promote a healthy birth. I plan to saturate the birthing chamber with positive energy, and I want at least a month to add to the –“

“Yes, yes. And you will. I will personally make sure that you have what you need. I will find your ingredients, while you find Trina Blue.”

“Look. I want to do more than prepare the birthing chamber. I need to –“

“Indeed.” Anton stood up and handed Savien the pile of clovers he had collected. Dusting off his pants and hands, Anton braced his legs apart and crossed his arms. “I am well aware of the protections you plan to place around the Castle. I promise that you will have more than enough ingredients by the time you need to leave for Out-realm. More than enough. Besides, the Queen has sent help and has already approved my request.”

“Fine. But screw this up and I will find a way to jinx even you.”

Giving a masculine chuckle, Anton walked off. “Jinx away, my friend. Just make sure you also bring Miss Blue back before you do.”

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Nov 11 Paranormal Love Wednesday Blog HOP

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Join the blog hop, check out some Paranormal Lovin’

HERE

My contribution to this HOP is a snippet of Shocking Finds (A Finder’s Keepers Novel)… the link to Amazon as well as a page with all other buy links can be located at the bottom… now here is your never before posted excerpt… enjoy

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She’d overreacted. Again.

Walking into Finder’s Keepers, Marin admitted just how screwed she truly was. Her small electrical problem got worse every time she lost her temper. And the person she needed to ask about said problem? Marin had shocked the shit out of Kyland and watched as he disappeared. Crap and double crap. Her latest episode had ended with the death of both her television and most of her living area lamps. She couldn’t afford this new gift. If she lost her coffee maker, Marin would be having her new power bound, or cut out, or whatever happened when a person chose to have a gift removed.

Looking around the office, counting all the antique furnishings, Marin started to second-guess the merit of her intentions, running in to pick up some Finds to work on at home. Between the French terra cotta flooring, with oak wood inlays, and the antique Persian Sultanabad rug running underfoot in the sitting area, the cheapest decorative items to be found were the Tiffany lamps and other assorted light fixtures, fixtures that could explode at any moment, raining glass down on all in sight. Not exactly a cheap mistake to have to clean up.

On top of everything else, the hospital had informed Marin that Lindal remained in her coma-like state. She didn’t understand what little information the nurse had been allowed to give her over the phone, and the lack of solid facts was enough to drive a saint over the edge. Waiting for visiting hours, to speak to someone face to face, had Marin’s nerves on edge.

Did Lindal have internal injuries? What did the doctor think? Marin could only remember walking back to see Lindal. Everything else remained a blur. A surreal and crappy day. She just needed to kill a couple hours— or five. Add in the drive time and she should get to the hospital just in time to sit in the waiting room. Okay, she needed more to do. Even driving under the speed limit, the hospital was only forty minutes from her house, just outside of the city.

Freezing in place, Marin remembered her poor van. She had allowed Kyland to take her home, to desert her vehicle.

Continuing down the hall, Marin reworked her day to accommodate her van’s retrieval. She couldn’t keep driving Lindal’s car.

As Marin passed Anton’s office, she heard the answer to one of her problems. Kennith’s voice boomed out into the hallway, and Kennith meant Finder cases that involved the Finds that Anton said that she wasn’t ready for but hopefully he would make an exception just this once. She didn’t normally work on those, but she was desperate.

Sure, Kennith worked for the SBI and mainly worked with Finders that had previous law enforcement training, but maybe they would allow her to help out in some small way.

Marin walked into Anton’s inner sanctum and came to an abrupt halt as Anton and Kennith turned disbelieving eyes her way. Shoving her hands into her pockets, she anxiously bounced from foot to foot, wondering if she should have knocked. Anton’s policy had always been an open door policy. If the looks aimed her way were any indication, things must have changed. This was her first time seeking Anton out in his office, and the door had stood wide open, but that clearly didn’t mean come on in.

The level of silent scrutiny became uncomfortable, a suffocating tension building in the air. Really, Anton could just ask her to come back later. He owned Finder’s Keepers, after all.

“Did I do something wrong?” Marin couldn’t believe that her one hope at creating a distraction from her day looked to be one more log for the stress pile.

“Come in and shut the door, please.” Anton’s voice came out crisp and demanding.

This couldn’t be good. Anton had never had a closed door meeting with her. Or with anyone that she could remember.

Marin frantically tried to think… What had she done wrong? She needed this job. Unlike most Finders, she had to work Finds. She didn’t have a choice. She would be overwhelmed by her heightened senses without her current job. If she went too long without a Find, she started to feel her senses pulling, searching for the lost without her permission.

Working at Finder’s Keepers had become the perfect outlet for Marin’s overwhelming senses. She could unwind and keep her senses from overloading while Anton happily pointed her in the most profitable direction.

Marin pushed the door closed and squared her shoulders, trying to prepare herself for the worst, while doing her best to block out the increasing buzz in her temples. The stress of waiting for Anton to speak had her head ready to explode. Blinking rapidly, Marin smoothed her sweaty hands against the top of her paintsplattered jeans, trying to remain calm.

If Marin didn’t want to lose control of her emotions, and her gift, out in the waiting area, she definitely didn’t want to start blowing up Anton’s office. She couldn’t help but stare in dread at the vintage Lalique Perruches glass lamp perched in a place of pride on Anton’s desk. The damn lamp cost nearly five grand. She had cringed at the price while helping Anton locate an antiques dealer to replace his broken one. Now she shook her head, accepting the dock in pay that would come her way, once the shit hit the fan. She didn’t know what the chairs and love seat had cost, or even the elaborately carved bookshelves, but the Persian rug would be another twenty grand or so, should the flying glass from the exploding lamp do any damage.

The way Kennith kept gawking at her maybe she was dying. Then again, maybe he was. There was no way that much shock on one man’s face could be healthy. Any minute now, Kennith would surely pass out. He didn’t even appear to be breathing. Marin focused on Anton, instead. Kennith obviously needed some privacy. No one should be seen looking so weak. He was a police officer, for heaven’s sake, and he looked ready to run, throw up, or just keel over on the spot.

“How?” That one choked out word didn’t come from an expected source. Apparently, Kennith could still speak. Now, if he could start making sense.

Marin waited for more. How what? When it was clear that Kennith either couldn’t, or wouldn’t, say more, she looked for Anton to finish the question.

Anton said, “You’re radiating power, my dear. Then, of course, there is the question of your soul-bound shadow. I think our friend Kennith is asking about the nature of this increase in power as well as the acquisition of said shadow.”

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Free Read to Celebrate

Shocking Finds (A Finder’s Keepers Novel) is finally out… At the end of this post you will find the Excerpt that a lot of you have already read, plus a little more; as well as links to buy the book… But I thought it would be a nice treat to see how the Queen used to pick Sentinels… Sentinels are the ones charged with apprehending the Danshue (Evil Fae)… Right now the Sentinels are missing, but not for long.

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Now for your free read… Let’s see how Joffrey was chosen to be a Sentinel by the Queen. Joffrey is one of the Earth-side Sentinels, and currently searching for his missing Sentinel Brethren… Hopefully, Marin will be able to help him Find the others but that is for the future novels… right now, let’s look into the past 😛

Joffrey Accepted

Joffrey Kane moved through the shadows, his hands shaking from the sub-zero weather. Getting into the Lower Reaches was a bitch. How could such biting cold surround land built of fire?

As he reached the edge of the first fire pit, Joffrey could see the Fire Bluestems flowers that he needed for his potion work. Most of the land in the Lower Reaches was filled with burnt and charred earth. He could feel his limbs beginning to thaw as the heat of the fire pit reached him. Pins and needles attacked his system. He needed to get to the roots of the flowers. Breathing through the pain of his body heating back up so rapidly, Joffrey prepared to run to collect his ingredients.

“Excuse me…” A small hand tugged at Joffrey’s pant leg.

A Winter Brownie, one of the few Brownie breeds with moonlight skin, stood at his side with sweat sliding down her cute little pug nosed face. Seeing the white crystal skinned Fae so close to the edge of the Lower Reaches was odd enough. The small Fae lived in the heart of the Cold Zones, never venturing out of their preferred frozen landscapes.

“Can I help you?” Joffrey fought not to shake his head. “You should not be herr.” The last thing he wanted was for the Brownie to get sick from the sulfur layered heat.

“Tis true, but Our Queen requests your presence.”

Joffrey jerked, stepping back from the Brownie. “Eep…” Joffrey gave a gruff of pain. His shock had caused him to step backwards into the heat of the Lower Reaches, going from temperatures of about thirty degrees to temperatures of damn near over ninety. The painful pins and needles quickly ramped up from jabbing to slashing.

Jumping forward, back into the cooler temperature, would only make the situation worse. “Just a moment. If you wait closer to the Frozen Lakes I will be with you in ten minutes. Promise.”

Joffrey didn’t wait for an answer. Plucking the flowers from the charred land would allow him time to calm down and wrap his head around the thought of being face to face with the Queen. This didn’t make sense. He was no one. The greatest men in Fae history rarely got an audience with Queen de Platadreki. Who was he to get such a privilege?

Joffrey walked forward and dropped to his knees. He didn’t know what protocol demanded, not that it mattered. He couldn’t stand with the feeling of the Queen’s royal presence filling the room even if he wanted to.

“Joffrey Kane, I call on you to travel Earth-side. My Sentinels have their hands full. I need you to get as much information as possible about the Danshue calling himself Landus. He is believed to be hiding in the area of Earth-side known as Kentucky. More importantly, the Kentucky caves.”

Joffrey didn’t understand. If they already knew that this Danshue, the most evil of Fae criminals, was hiding in this cave, why did they need him? “But… I am no one.”

“You are the best of my subjects at traveling through rapidly changing temperatures. The outdoors should be high in heat, while the caves should be varying from cool to cold. The deeper the cave, the colder it may be. All this is within acceptable temperatures for the most Fae. But this Danshue has previously used his stolen power to mimic the temperatures of our Frozen Lakes.” The Queen laid a hand on his bowed head. “But do not worry. You will not be alone. Cimbolin will accompany you.”

“Where will I find this Cimbolin?”

“She is the Brownie that brought you here, and is waiting down in the dungeons.”

That was shocking enough to force his eyes up to the Queen. “The dungeons?” Joffrey didn’t know what the small Winter Brownie could have done to be placed in the the dungeons. By definition, Brownies were kind and caring. Shaking his head, Joffrey did his best to wrap his mind around traveling to a different realm with a criminal. “Should I arm myself against this Cimbolin?”

The Queen shocked him a second time as she threw her head back and laughed. “She is no criminal.”

“Then why is she in the dungeons?”

Queen de Platadreki covered her mouth, her eyes bright with humor. “Because the dungeons are cold.” With that she walked away, allowing her laughter to consume her.

With the Queen’s royal presence finally gone, Joffrey pushed up from his knees. This was insane. He was expected to gather information on one of the most vile and evil of their criminal kind, and he had to do that with a Fae that broke out in sweats when faced with forty degree temperatures. Well, this should be interesting.

Exiting the portal, Joffrey stood and waited for Cimbolin to get her breath back.

She started stripping off her clothes, throwing them on the ground and cursing in a high pitched Brownie dialect. When she stood in a shorts and a bra, no shoes or shirt, Joffrey grabbed her hands as she reached for the button of her shorts. “Whoa there. I can not walk around Earth-side with someone that looks like one of their human children. Especially not a naked one.”

“But it is just fabric. Fae always remove their fabrics when uncomfortable. Always. And I am hot. This heat sticks to me. I must be free.”

Pacing back and forth, Joffrey tried to think. “You could go back to the Frozen Lakes.” The more he thought about it, the better that sounded. He could move more freely if he didn’t have to worry about the human law enforcers putting him in chains because he looked like he was dragging around a naked child.

“I must stay. The Queen believes me useful, and I refuse to let my Queen down.”

Joffrey wanted to scream. Instead he started digging through his potions satchel. “Okay, okay. We need to find the nearest cave. I asked before we left, and Kentucky is known to have the largest number of cave systems. I had hoped that we would have a dozen or so to search, but I was wrong. This area is littered with them. Once there I can create an amulet to help block the heat from your system.”

Gathering her disgarded items into her arms, Cimbolin sniffed the air and turned to the east before she started walking off. “I can feel one no more than twenty yards away.”

Joffrey rushed to catch up. “How can you know?”

“I feel the cooler air seeping from under the land. Cool and damp.”

Well, damn. Looked like Miss Cimbolin would come in handy after all.

Twenty-three caves. Twenty-three caves and not a hint of Danshue activity. Joffrey was cold, muddy and soaked. He could adjust his core temperature with ease, but even he could only wade through waist high underground water systems for so long. Ice cold water that soaked him to the bone, limestone rock that numbed his fingers as he climbed cave tunnels, and mud that caked to his skin and clothing, leaching out all body heat… No one could survive these conditions for days, weeks… months.

“Woo-wee!”

Joffrey turned his frozen glare Cimbolin’s way. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“I feel great. This temperature regulating amulet you made me makes everywhere we go feel colder. I was only sweating a little while we walked between caves. I could totally live here. I had no idea that Earth-side had caves systems with -”

“Cimbolin… please. My teeth are chattering, and your enthusiasm is giving me a headache.” Joffrey sloshed his way through yet more water, his entire body shaking. He couldn’t wait to get through with this cave. It seemed to be filled with ten times more water than any of the other caves they had checked out. There may be dozens more to cover, but at least his body could warm up a little between tortures.

Cimbolin took a running jump into the water, sending mud and freezing liquid everywhere. Joffrey wanted to be as carefree as his little Brownie friend, but the water was just too cold. His limbs didn’t want to move, his joints began to ache and protest. The water was… it was actually starting to freeze.

The water rapidly turned to ice, racing for his position. Cimbolin hadn’t seen the approaching threat, or maybe she was just so used to quickly dropping temperatures that she welcomed the ice. Frozen water was one thing, but Joffrey could also a curse attached to the ice crystals floating in through the air, bent on stopping all intruders.

Joffrey ignored the approaching ice and dove for Cimbolin, ripping the amulet from her throat just as the ice wrapped around his legs and started climbing his body.

“Hey. You said I could keep that.” Cimbolin stamped her foot, sending ice shards into the cave walls.

Joffrey watched the ice pierce the limestone walls. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak or tackle Cimbolin to the ground so she would stop ranting. The last thing they needed was for the caster of the curse to realize that his trap had failed to stop them both. Even his eyes were frozen wide open.

Cimbolin shook the ice from her arms and started climbing over the newly frozen underground pond. Her eyes stayed focused on the amulet encased in ice, in his hand. Joffrey prayed to Lac Mar, the Fae Goddess, that Cimbolin would catch on. That she would understand. He could only keep his core temperature up for so long.

Cimbolin reached his side and started yanking at the amulet, but neither his hand or the amulet moved. Taking a step back from him, she placed her hands on her hips and started examining his body and the ice. “You stuck?”

When Joffrey didn’t answer, she threw her hands in the air and closed her eyes. She appeared to be sniffing the air, then she moved closer and started sniffing at the amulet and his clothes. “You do this?”

Joffrey wanted to jump with excitement, and shake her with exasperation at the same time. She obviously knew something was wrong but not what.

Finally, she took a small climbing axe out of her satchel. Joffrey tried to jerk away, but still his body didn’t move.

Cimbolin hummed as she ran her hand along his potions satchel. “I do not deal with magic, never have. I work to feed the Winter Brownie children while the Elders deal with this stuff.” Then she growled, “Spell lovin’ crazies.”

Joffrey wanted to close his eyes, but instead he was forced to watch as Cimbolin brought the axe over her head and then gave it a good swing. The cover flap on his satchel shattered into shards, flying into her arms. One piece cut a jagged line into her cheek.

That’s when things went from bad to worse. Cimbolin started pulling out potions and tossing them at Joffrey. Potions for fire, for healing, for wind storms, for fertilization… every damn thing she could get her hands on, she threw.

With the last potion, the ice encasing Joffrey exploded into the air. His body flew one way, Cimbolin’s the other way. He slammed into the cave wall, his head bouncing off the limestone with sickening force. Darkness clouded his vision. Joffrey saw the Danshue creeping around the corner, rubbing his hands together with glee, but then he saw no more.

Joffrey came to with a splitting headache. It was probably due to his collision with the cave wall, but then, Cimbolin’s small hand smacking the hell out of his cheek wasn’t helping the matter. “Stop.”

“Oh, thank Lac Mar. I thought you dead. I do not deal with dead. Never. Nope. Only living things for me. I-”

“Cimbolin, please.” His head needed quiet. Or maybe to be cased in ice again.

Cimbolin huffed and sat back, her arms crossed. “Well. We stuck down in some hole. Bad Danshue man probably gonna kill us, suck up all our power. His skin already sagging from his bones. I seen it. That mean he need to kill, need to torture, need to suck up all the power he can find. He will-”

Throwing his hand out, Joffrey covered her mouth but he couldn’t speak. He watched as his hand flickered from flesh and bone to insubstantial nothingness. His damn hand was disappearing. He had to clear his throat a few times before he could demand, “What the hell?”

She slapped his hand away. “Oh, that. You been sliding in and out of phase for hours. You should really get a handle on your power. You too old to lose control like-”

“No. I do not have-”

“You do not have manners, you do not. You interrupt too much.”

“Well, I am freaking out here. And rightfully so.”

Getting up to pace, she started counting off explanations. “You could be confused. You hit your head real hard. Maybe you forgot about your powr?”

“Nope.”

“Maybe you are cursed and will disappear for good, but I do not smell magic on your skin. I could have missed it.”

“Nope.”

Stopping in her tracks, she looked to the cave ceiling nearly forty feet above them. She started pacing again, she stopped, and then back to the pacing. She was driving Joffrey insane. He really needed an answer to his flickering molecules. His hands and legs, and most likely his entire body, continued to flicker in and out of phase. Disappearing from sight.

Stomping her small foot, Cimbolin growled, “Either you do not remember, or you have hit a new power level. You have a new gift.”

“That is insane. We may get stronger with age but we do not get completely new powers out of the blue. It just does not happen.”

“Apparently you are wrong. Cause you have a new gift you say you did not have before.”

Joffrey opened his mouth to tell Cimbolin she was delusional, when a scream for help reverberated through the cave. Joffrey didn’t say anything, he couldn’t. His body disappeared completely, falling out of phase, and flowing up into the air. He could feel and see everything, but knew that his body gone from Cimbolin’s sight. He was somewhere between the here and the there. He was nowhere and everywhere. He landed on a rocky edge overlooking the hole where Cimbolin stood glaring up at him.

Cimbolin grunted, “Stupid Fae flies away, leaves me behind. But did I leave him. Noooo. I stay and protect, he runs off. I-”

“Cimbolin, stop it. I did not do this on purpose. Just… just wait a minute.” Joffrey starting searching for a rope, a ladder… some way for the Danshue to climb in and out of the damn hole. Throwing his hands into the air, he moved back to the edge of the hole. He jerked a little as Cimbolin popped over the hole’s edge.

“Move please.”

Joffrey scratched at his temple. “How?”

Cimbolin pushed him out of her way. “Winter Brownies climb well.”

Shaking his head, Joffrey reached for her hand and pulled her to her feet. Another scream rent the air and they both stopped moving. This wasn’t his mission. He wasn’t a Sentinel. Saving innocents, fighting Danshue, that was a job for a Sentinel, not a potion’s master and a Winter Brownie.

He knew it was insane. He knew it was certain death. But one look into Cimbolin’s eyes, and they both nodded before rushing for the screams.

Rushing through the cave tunnels, Joffrey and Cimbolin followed the screams. The sound went straight to his soul. The pain, the lose of hope, pushed him to move faster. Suddenly, his body began to tingle, his hands to flicker in and out of existence. Then Joffrey disappeared completely, his molecules flowing through the tunnels faster than sight.

Whipping around the corner, Joffrey saw the Danshue. The evil Fae stood over his prey, a small girl of no more than six, cackling with his head thrown back and his knife wielding hand raised into the air as his sagging skin started to fill out into a healthy appearance.

The cavern seemed so big, the dying child so far away. Joffrey felt torn. He wanted to rush the Danshue, he wanted to cover and protect the child, he wanted to rewind life so that this child was still safe in her home. She was lying in a puddle of blood, small cuts and bruises covering her fragile skin.

His molecules continued to move toward the horrific scene, his concentration fractured, and his body began to flicker in and out. Just as he solidified, the Danshue turned, eyes wide and knife lowering to his side. As Joffrey slammed into the Danshue, the knife sliced through his arm and they both tumbled to the ground.

The Danshue gasped, the wind knocked from his lungs. Before the evil Fae could regain his breath, Joffrey grabbed for the knife but the Danshue held on tight. Joffrey lost track of all the punches thrown and received. He lost all composure. Nothing hurt, even as the knife slipped from his grasp and sliced through his hand. Desperate, Joffrey collapsed onto the Danshue and grappled for the hand holding the knife. The knife slashed at him with inhuman speed, the Danshue using the strength he had gained from torturing his prey.

One good jab and the knife got stuck in Joffrey’s side, and still he tried to latch onto the Danshue’s flailing hands. Joffrey thought that all hope was lost. The knife was jerked from his side and he knew that he had failed.

Joffrey continued to hold the Danshue tight anyway he could, his teeth grinding together. He was about to slam his head forward in the hopes that he could discombobulate the Fae responsible for the pain of so many children. Jeffrey knew that the sagging skin that the Danshue repaired meant that this Evil Fae had been torturing and stealing powers for years.

Joffrey’s head was about to slam forward when the knife entered his peripheral vision. He flinched as warm blood covered his face. But it wasn’t his blood. Joffrey stared in shock as the knife stayed lodged in the side of the Danshue’s head. The tension went out of the Danshue and Joffrey collapsed in exhaustion.

Rolling over to the bleeding child, Joffrey threw his hand out and put as much healing energy into her body as could. He knew he would eventually recover from the cuts and contusions, but the little girl was so still, so quiet. Cimbolin moved around to the child’s other side and placed her hands on the motionless chest.

The small girl gasped for air, and then let out a weak cry. A cry that got stronger with each passing moment. It was the best sound he had ever heard. Now he just needed to get up and make sure everyone got back to where they belonged.

Joffrey stood in front of the Queen for the second time in his life, Cimbolin at his side. They had managed to get the little girl to a healer, and they located an Earth-side Sentinel that was willing to take care of the dead Danshue.

Joffrey didn’t know why the Queen wanted to see him. She merely sat on her throne and whispered to the man at her side. Finally the doors to the receiving hall opened and the Queen focused on them at last. “Now that Warthen has arrived, we can begin.”

Joffrey looked at the man she called Warthen. He was the Sentinel that had helped them with the dead body. The Queen got up and went to Warthen’s side. “So…”

“It is as you said, my Queen. I can feel a connection. Plus, he manifested latent power in a time of need.”

Joffrey didn’t know what was doing on. The Queen and this Warthen weren’t making sense.

The Queen glanced from Joffrey to Cimbolin. “And the Winter Brownie?”

Warthen began to walk around Joffrey and Cimbolin. “I have read Joffrey’s mind.”

Joffrey flinched, but said nothing. Mind reading was supposed to be a lost gift, but he didn’t think it would be wise to correct the Queen or the man she seemed to hold in high esteem.

Stopping in front of Cimbolin, Warthen said, “This one showed great courage. She stayed in a place of danger because Joffrey was vulnerable. She also placed herself in the middle of the altercation, saving Joffrey and the child.”

The Queen nodded, and moved to leave the room. “All the signs have come to fruition. You are the Earth-side Sentinel leader, do what must be done.”

Joffrey watched the Queen leave the hall, taking a step back from Warthen. Forcing himself to stand still, he braced for whatever was to come.

Warthen gave a light laugh. “Relax Joffrey. The signs all point to you becoming one of the Sentinels. Welcome to the brotherhood, man.”

Joffrey didn’t know what he had done to deserve the honor. He held his body still, doing his best not to grin. “And Cimbolin. What did the Queen want with her.”

“Hey, I can talk for myself.” She squared her shoulders and faced Warthen. “Well… what did she mean? Am I in trouble? Was I supposed to do things differently? Should I have searched the caves while Joffrey was lying-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa… do you always babble.” Warthen shook his head and Cimbolin fell silent. “You are worthy of aiding Joffrey in his Sentinel duties. If you are brave enough to fight at his side, you will be his Sentinel Aid.”

Cimbolin stood there for a moment, then started running around the room. “Woo-wee. This rocks. I am a Sentinel’s aid. Oh, yeah. The rest of the Brownies will be so jealous. I can run down Danshue, with my tursty amulet.”

She raised her temperature regulation amulet into the air and continued to babble. Joffrey threw his head back and laughed. The future was going to be one ride after another. And he couldn’t wait.

Excerpt:

Chapter One

Marin Yarthine had trouble containing a childish giggle or two. She had managed to locate an Orion Starbrary Indigo Violet Aura Lemurian Seed Quartz Crystal for her boss. The longest, oddest name for a rock, but Anton had been very specific. Besides, she was the best Finder at Finder’s Keepers, who better to go on this mission.

Okay, so her job wasn’t actually to go out in the field and complete a Finder’s mission. Completing Finds was handled in a different department than hers. Marin knew that she was nothing more than a high paid researcher. She could take a piece of cloth and tell you where it had been, what had been near it, who had touched it, and more importantly, she could visualize where any related objects might be located.

Yesterday, Anton handed Marin an old textbook written in something that looked like Latin, and asked her to Find a rare crystal for his collection. The words on the book had been meaningless to her, but once Marin had held the fragile text in her hands, she had known exactly where to go.

Marin had wanted to complete just one mission on her own. She had been prepared to search the dank and cold Kentucky cave systems, not stopping until she had her Find. It was a simple case, with no danger involved. She would never attempt the kidnaping cases, or one of the Finds involving a murder weapon.

Marin had been surprised to feel the newest store in the area, Crystal Sights, pulling at her Finder’s gift. Anton had sworn up and down that the crystal would be hard to locate. Aisle six – rare gems and crystals was not her idea of difficult. In and out and no one had gotten hurt.

Her aunt, Lindal, refused to even allow her to look at the building as they drove past, and now Marin had been inside and explored.

Marin had completed her first solo Finder’s mission. She had located exactly what Anton needed and managed to purchase a crystal of her very own. Not that she believed in crystals and magic. Her aunt had explained how her own ability, to locate the lost or stolen, was the closest thing to real magic left in the world. If Lindal knew that Marin had purchased one of the crystals for herself, her aunt would lose her ever lovin’ mind.

For once in her life, Marin didn’t care. She had felt the heat coming off her crystal as she held it in her hands. Maybe her aunt was wrong. Maybe the shopkeeper had told the truth, and the fragile but beautiful rock would help Marin come through her Transition with more protection and control.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Eep.” Marin barely managed to turn her full throttled scream into a small startled cry. She crashed into the small angry redhead, the one suddenly blocking her path, as she cleared the store exit.

Marin snapped her lips together on the urge to ask her aunt questions. Like where the hell she had come from? Trying not to lean away from the look on Lindal’s face, she waited for the sarcasm and disdain to flow. When Lindal merely stood there, glaring in silence, Marin whispered, “I had to run an errand for Anton.”

Lindal’s face brightened to a nice deep red, as her arms crossed, her mouth flattened out in displeasure, and her foot tapped out her impatience. “Don’t lie to me, missy. You work in the office or at home. You do not run around mingling with charlatans.”

Marin held her tongue, her heart beginning to race. She hated fighting with Lindal, and there was no way that this tirade was over. Lindal did more damage with words than lions did fighting over dinner. Marin wanted to be one of those people that could take a browbeating with a grain of salt. But she knew that this time wouldn’t be any easier to take. Tomorrow would mark twenty-one years of ranting. Lindal’s personality could be vicious, and hard to take, but Marin didn’t have any other family.

Lindal jabbed her dainty finger at Marin, her words hissed with the pressure of contained rage. “Do you want to die like your mother? Do you enjoy making me worry and endangering your life like this?”

Marin lowered her head and whispered, “If magic isn’t real, then I should be safe enough. This is the only unscheduled stop I made.”

“Don’t back talk me, girl. Magic is for fools. And places like this are for those too weak to hold on to their money, those willing to purchase lies because they are unhappy with the imperfections they were born with. If your mother had stayed home, she would be alive. Instead, she was mugged in some back alley and left to bleed out with the trash.”

Marin flinched, yet yearned to hear more. It was the most Lindal had ever said about her mother, or the events that had led to her death. Taking a chance that her aunt would continue sharing, Marin asked, “Is there any way to be safe?” She wanted to ask more about her mother, but feared that Lindal would clam up if she pushed too directly.

“Listen and listen good. People, those freaks with meddling gifts, can see how weak you are. They are abominations, just like you, but they can and will plant thoughts inside your mind, and lead you into danger. Everyone has enhanced senses these days, but you are an oddity. Abnormal, just begging for some fool to believe he can steal your curse, and use it for his own plans, by taking your life. The crap sold in places like this will not give you a shield from the evil in this world.” Lindal had explained many times over the years that Marin had been born without the natural shields that protected a person’s mind.

“But if there are people that can play tricks, put thoughts in your mind, then maybe there could be some small magic that’s real.”

Placing the bag with her new crystal protectively behind her back, Marin fought not to back away from her aunt. The look in Lindal’s eyes told her plainly that she had pushed too far. Any sign of weakness would light a match to these attacks. “Tricks. Nothing but tricks. Your mind is just too weak to figure them out.”

Marin ground her teeth together and avoided her aunt’s eyes. Feeling her hands tighten around her gift bag, her eyes sought out the parking lot for anything to distract Lindal. Marin needed something for both of them to focus on, so that she could get her impotent rage under control. Getting defensive never helped. The woman looked weak and innocent, but ruled their home with an iron fist and razor sharp words.

Instead of continuing to explain all the reasons that Marin had screwed up, Lindal stiffly turned and walked into the parking lot. Apparently her aunt planned to wait for a private moment to vent the rest of her displeasure. And vent she would. Lindal’s stiff movements and flushed complexion warned Marin that the conversation coming her way would be one of the worst.

Marin didn’t need the lecture repeated. She had it memorized. Rocks and stones are just that. Real magic didn’t exist. She needed to stay at home, safe, except for work. Blah… blah… blah. But Marin wanted more information. How did ordinary people put thoughts inside someone else’s mind? How did her co-worker’s little boy manage to move objects out of her reach when Marin wasn’t looking?

Not knowing what else to do, Marin followed Lindal into the parking lot. Lindal would be in a snit for days.

Marin still couldn’t contain the occasional squeal though she attempted to keep them as quiet as possible. She needed to get her happiness under control.

Luckily, she had the entire length of the parking lot, to calm herself down. The lot seemed to have more cars than the entire area of Ashland, Kentucky had residents. Crystal Sights had managed to expand on the word grand in Grand Opening. The opening had been scheduled for the first day of the yearly hometown festivals and had drawn quite the crowd. Marin didn’t relish Lindal’s anger, but still thought that today had turned out better than she could have hoped. Smiling, she glanced around, as she walked behind her aunt, taking in the different types of shoppers.

Marin watched as three little old ladies climbed out of a bright yellow Caddie, their hair ranging from hooker red to bonnet blue. She saw a younger man pulling his reluctant girlfriend – or possibly wife – from the cab of their truck, her very pregnant belly leading the way. The woman was shaking her head, pointing to the insane number of people, still lining up to enter the store. Marin tried to stop herself from bouncing with every step, not wanting Lindal to see her happiness. This was the closet she had come to attending one of the hometown events, thrown every spring. Festivals that would only become larger when summer finally arrived.

Across the street, by the river, Marin could even see the over-night-assembled rides and concession stands being mobbed by crowds of yet more tri-state citizens. So many types of people rushed around, laughter in their eyes. Even the pregnant woman had managed a smile, once she made it out of the truck and into the man’s arms.

Every squeak of excitement that Marin failed to contain received a reprimanding glare from Lindal. But Marin was too hopeful to allow Lindal’s mood to kill her joy completely. Claudette – the store owner – had called the stone a Maturation Crystal. Marin’s fingers still tingled from when she had touched the crystal earlier, giving her hope for her Transition Birthday. Everyone went through their twenty-first birthday hoping that they would have better control of their enhanced senses. Even if her birthday came and went without an improvement, the crystal marked Marin’s first independent action.

Marin didn’t want to fight; she wanted to celebrate. With that in mind, she put on a burst of speed, passing Lindal, as she said, “Where are you parked, Aunt Lindal?” Marin wanted to get in her car and head for home before Linda started listing more ways that this trip had been a mistake. An evening alone in her art studio, admiring her Maturation Crystal, sounded like perfection.

Marin crossed her fingers that Lindal wouldn’t be as irate as the time that Anton had encouraged everyone that worked for Finder’s Keepers, to participate in self-defense classes. Marin had been excited. The free classes took place in the gym, off the back of Finder’s Keepers. As far as bosses went, Anton ranked with the best. He even allowed her to compose her Finds at home, in her private studio. The information she came up with helped other Finders on their missions, and working from home kept Lindal from bitching.

Great work hours or not, Lindal still despised the man. Her sneering had managed to run Marin out of more than one room when the subject of Antonius Slade came up, especially after the self-defense debacle. Marin had managed to keep the classes a secret for two years before Lindal found out. And boy had that been memorable. Lindal had found and burned all the workout clothes and the fighting stick that Marin had stashed in her van. She flinched, remembering how the blaze had lit up the front yard, and how Lindal’s reddened face seemed to match the flames. Lindal had burned with rage, expressing her displeasure by instituting her own version of self-defense classes. Marin rubbed her sore hip, trying to shake off yesterday’s lesson.

Marin had gained a good ten feet of distance from Lindal before her aunt decided to reply. Reply and reprimand. “Slow down, child. It is rude to run in public. And I took a taxi, so that we could talk on the ride home. Talk and decide what to do about your current attitude.”

Marin stumbled a little, but otherwise didn’t reply. She absolutely refused to allow anything to put a damper on her spirit. As long as the crystal remained in her possession, she could handle any punishment.

Lindal sneered as she inquired, “Why in the world did you park so far away?”

Marin slowed and turned to walk backwards. She couldn’t believe that Lindal chose to ask such a question. “I had hoped that by parking as far away as possible, I could avoid the humiliating gymnastics needed to re-enter my vehicle. That woman we passed a moment ago was actually climbing in through her sun roof. I don’t know if this type of place is always this packed, but if so, they need more parking. I was lucky to find a spot, no matter how far away it is. But I admit that I concentrated on the area to the rear of the parking lot. Everyone fights for the ones closest to the store. I swear that broken down Toyota back there was circling the lot when I first arrived.”

Marin watched, as the poor rusted contraption made its rounds. She felt sorry for the car, and the driver. Mostly she felt bad for everyone currently being forced to breathe in the ozone killing balls of smoke emanating from the Toyota.

“Turn around and walk correctly. They can have our spot… once we get there,” Lindal hissed. Her aunt ignored the opportunity to vent some of her rage on the circling motorist. The parking lot had so many cars that the grassy incline along the edges of the parking lot had begun to fill up with unrepentant motorist.

Marin turned and quickened her pace as she yelled, “I’ll just air the car out.” They were almost to Marin’s van, which always smelled of oil based paints and some before-the-invention-of-odorless paint thinner substances. Mainly, Marin wanted to put off the fight building with each of Lindal’s hissed and clipped words.

“Don’t turn the car on. You’ll…” Lindal’s words ended on a grunt of pain.

Before Marin could turn to look, her aunt’s body flew over her head. She watched her aunt tumble through the air and land, with a sickening crunch, on the hood of her van. She realized that the frighteningly loud cry filling the air was coming from her own mouth, but Marin couldn’t stop. Lindal’s body slide to the ground like a rag doll, a line of blood marking her movements along the bright orange paint. Mere seconds had passed, but Marin felt like she had been frozen to the spot for hours, consumed by her disbelief.

The sound of squealing tires caught her attention, but Marin stood rooted to the spot and continued to scream.

Eventually, the other sounds in the vast parking lot penetrated her haze. One moment, she was happily looking forward to examining her crystal, watching the dozens of other shoppers laugh and dream of the wonders to be found on this perfect spring day. Now, she watched as the only family she had ever known crashed onto the unforgiving asphalt. The need to complete a mission, or purchase her own crystal, started to feel pretty hollow.

Forcing her way out of her hysteria, Marin snapped her mouth closed and glanced around as she rushed forward. The Toyota she had pointed out to Lindal was moving in reverse as she ran for her aunt. No innocent circling for that murderous bastard now.

Marin looked back at Lindal, and her ears filled with a high pitched ringing. She tried to convince herself that this couldn’t be happening. She knew that POS Toyota was to blame, even without seeing the car ramming into her aunt’s vulnerable body.

Marin reached Lindal’s side, attempting to forget about assholes with toxic road rage, so that she could focus on the various wounds. As she fell to her knees, by Lindal’s broken body, she heard an engine being revved. She could smell burning rubber as she twisted to glance over her shoulder. A horrible metallic noise rent the air, as the Toyota bounced off the lane of cars, and angled in their direction.

Marin sat slack jawed as she realized that the man had the balls to make a second attempt. The Toyota was scrapping along the nearby cars, hell bent on committing death by rust bucket. She didn’t know if she was more upset that someone wanted to kill both her and Lindal, or that her van was about to be harmed in the process.

Marin couldn’t move Lindal to safety, and she refused to leave her alone. She glanced frantically around, searching for a miracle. Run down though the car was, it was still out of her weight class.

Marin twisted back, to face the oncoming vehicle completely, her hands in the air.

A plea for mercy? A supplication or a surrender? Marin didn’t know. Time seemed to slow as the Toyota came closer. She felt her usually denied emotions rush to the surface, her anger leading the charge. She felt the rage heat along her skin begging to be released.

Holding her ground, Marin remained kneeling by Lindal’s side. A blood-curdling scream left her mouth, and for the first time in her life, she allowed her feelings to come to the surface with destructive force. In that moment, Marin felt no fear, no shyness. Just rage. A rage that felt at home and welcoming as it exploded in the air. Even her confusion and denial – those feelings she felt most at home with – had been buried under this red-hot mixture of emotion.

A jolt of pain, from some invisible force, threw Marin to the ground. Lying on her back, her head pounding, she felt as if an invisible entity flowed from her body and zeroed in on the offending car. Her skin tingling, Marin watched, through eyes of indignation, as the tires on one side of the car suddenly left the ground. The Toyota was thrown into the air and onto the tires on its other side. The car slid off course, hitting the vehicles on the opposite side of the lane, and continued to tip, until it was rolling away from Lindal’s defenseless body. Crashing into the cars perched on the grassy incline, at the end of the lot, the Toyota rocked to a stop. It had looked like the car had been encased in some kind of protective shield, a wavering bubble of air, as it rolled away from Lindal’s position.

Marin shook her head to dispel the insanity. Shields didn’t work that way. Lindal had explained that a shield was an invisible defense, in the mind, to keep out unwanted thoughts and ideas. She felt the back of her head, wondering how hard she had managed to hit the asphalt. Did she have a concussion?

The Toyota had slammed off the cars in the grass, tottering back and forth, landing in the correct upward position. Marin didn’t know what had just happened, and at that moment, she didn’t care. She took a second to watch, as the Toyota clipped the back of a few cars, and miraculously sped away.

The smell of burning rubber and the sound of a hanging bumper, creating sparks along the pavement, were the only proof that this nightmare had ever happened. That and dozens of dented automobiles. The way the Toyota had rolled away from them, as if a giant was playing with his Tonka Trucks, would haunt Marin’s nightmares for a long time. She decided that the entire event needed to be firmly placed in her denial box, as she moved to check on Lindal and to call for an ambulance. She needed help; she needed help now.

Kyland Marcuson’s left eyebrow lifted, as he stood staring in disbelief. Seeing a woman with the power to move a few thousand pounds of metal, or even the brutal act of vehicular homicide, didn’t move him. These acts weere common place to those of the Supernatural Community. The astounding number of people, exiting their cars and the store, to stand around gawking also left him unmoved. Supes and Norms alike enjoyed a good train-wreck-worthy incident.

After all this time, he had finally found her. Kyland had searched for Marin for more than twenty years. He had managed to locate her, only to watch as she fought for her life. Kyland shook his head and allowed the pull of the woman’s essence to lead him to her side. His Queen had given him this mission, saying only that she would be the one to save them from the Danshue, the evil Fae.

Once the Queen vanished, Kyland had made it his sole purpose in life to locate Marin, a small babe he knew nothing about. The end of his journey, and the child was now a beautiful woman, with more questions surrounding her than answers. Her blonde hair, big blue eyes, and button nose gave her a vulnerable look. A look that was obviously a lie.

Kyland also felt surprised at the lust tearing through his system. He was here to protect this woman, not bed her. Still, those curves… Marin had to be more than a foot shorter than his own 6’8″ height, but she was still built like a dream. A dream he wanted to memorize with hands, mouth, and tongue. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Kyland continued forward.

People stood on the sidelines, watching and waiting, afraid to step forward, to help. Kyland pushed and shoved people out of his way to reach the woman he suspected to be the woman he was searching for. When he’d undertaken this mission, more than two decades ago, he was told that the child he needed to find and protect would have no real power. Her biggest gift should have been an overabundance of sensitivity. She should have been as close to powerless as she could get, without being human or a Norm, a powerless supernatural being. Apparently, some very important information had been withheld.

On the other hand, Marin had appeared shocked as she watched the car’s near miss. Maybe she didn’t understand her abilities, abilities that she shouldn’t have. Kyland could see in her eyes a slight refusal to believe the reality she now found herself in. He had watched as she shook her head, physically pushing away her confusion.

Kyland was close enough now to feel the denial coming from her psyche in waves. Her emotions were so strong; he could barely focus on anything else. He could also see that the Queen had left out a thing or two about the child’s identity when they’d discussed this mission.

Damn, damn, damn. Right now, Kyland needed to check on Marin and the woman lying at her side. But he needed to move forward carefully. He didn’t want to frighten the young woman, especially after she had just been traumatized. He needed to save her friend, if possible, and slowly build a connection, a bond of trust. If she were the correct person, then… then the future of his people would depend on her. He didn’t understand, not completely, but the Queen had given him a name, a location, and a time frame. He needed to find Marin, somewhere within Earth-side, before her Transition.

Well, if this was Marin, he had the woman/child; he was in Kentucky, so he was Earth-side, just like the Queen’s prophecy; the time frame was the remaining key. Kyland had less than a month left to complete the first step. Hopefully, the rest would fall into place, and by the end of the year, the Queen would be returned.

Kyland had spent the last two decades learning every new medical procedure, every medical aid technique of any discipline, as they were improved on. The Marin he was sent to retrieve had been kidnaped, and kidnap victims were rarely treated well. Why else would she be stolen at birth unless it was to harvest her power? Supe children could be used as batteries, for the sadistic and depraved. Evil men and women, or Danshue, that sought power above all else and were willing to do anything to obtain it.

Dropping to his knees, Kyland could see that the woman on the ground didn’t appear to be breathing. Time was short, but still he approached slowly. Perhaps the surrounding crowd of useless onlookers had the right idea. If he was correct, the beautiful blonde could toss him across the parking lot, if he surprised her.

“Do you need help?” Kyland slowly reached to check Marin’s friend for vitals, before tilting the head, to begin CPR. The woman he worked on was extremely small, broken, and bleeding. Her flaming red hair seemed familiar, but Kyland couldn’t worry about his patient’s identity. Not with a confused and wary Marin, watching his every move.

“Please… I don’t know… what to do… I can’t…” Marin didn’t know if she should trust this stranger, this mouthwatering man, but she needed help. Lindal needed help. She had already called 911 and told the operator what she could, but now her phone had disappeared. The best Finder the U.S. could offer, and she couldn’t even locate her own cell phone. She held her hand near the side of her aunt’s face, afraid to touch her. Didn’t the people in movies always stay on the phone when they called 911? She needed her phone. What was she- How could she-

Marin couldn’t breathe. She was screwing up. Lindal was hurt. She should have told the operator more. Couldn’t. Breathe.

“Do not worry. Just take a calming breath and work with me. I need you to stabilize her head for me. My name is Kyland, by the way, and I will do what I can to help, if you will let me.” Kyland took her hand, and it was suddenly easier to breathe. “Can you do that?”

Kyland had a manly beauty, one that sculptors would kill to etch. She found it hard not to stare at Mister Tall, Dark, and Handsome, her eyes continually jumping back to outline his features, even in the midst of her worry. He had to be nearly seven feet tall, and his eyes gleamed like flecks of coal.

When Kyland leaned forward to recheck Lindal for breath, Marin could see that his eyes were actually an extremely dark gray. His hair fell in a wave of black silk, to his shoulders, and his muscles looked edible in a glowing reddish brown tone.

Kyland had one of those year round natural tans that women the world over dreamed of. Marin would have assumed a Native American background, but there was just something more, something different, about him.

Marin gave herself a mental shake, to push his looks from her mind, and focus on the woman that had raised her. She would do anything and everything asked of her. She would follow Kyland’s lead and hope for the best.

Nodding her head rapidly, Marin moved to Lindal’s head to do as indicated. She had a purpose. The ambulance was coming, and Kyland would help Lindal until they arrived.

Marin hated the way that Lindal treated her, but she wanted distance and independence, not this. This couldn’t be happening. What if she lost the only family she…

Just as the panic started to take over again, Marin felt someone squeezing her hand. Kyland gave her comfort as his other hand rechecked for a pulse.

As the blonde did as instructed, Kyland continued compressions. He couldn’t think of her as Marin, not yet. There had to be another reason for her to look like… Kyland took a deep breath, to focus on the here and now. He had cleared his patient’s airway, while sending a healing spell into her body. It would help, but whether it would be enough or not, he didn’t know. He had to get her breathing again if he hoped to save her.

Kyland had done two sets of compressions, and was bending to blow air into her lung, when the woman took a deep breath on her own. Her eyes snapped open. Eyes that he knew, hated, and could never forget.

“You…” The word slipped out of his mouth before Kyland could think about stopping himself. He barely managed to cut off his words before a barrage of her suspected crimes left his mouth.

Well, damn. Kyland hadn’t recognized the injured woman with her eyes shut, but he should have. The wrinkles were obviously an illusion, but the fire engine red hair, the small stature… and now, those liquid sliver-green eyes couldn’t be denied. Only one person had eyes the shade of mixed mercury and vibrant new grass. Lindal Rencoff. Murder, treason, the thief of power by painful means… the list of her suspected crimes went on and on. Lindal needed to be tried for crimes against the Queen and Fae alike, for being Danshue, a Fae willing to lose his or her soul in exchange for stolen power.

The Queen definitely hadn’t informed him that he would find the woman/child that he was looking for with the traitor Lindal Rencoff. What the hell was going on here? His mouth turned down; Kyland had to fight the urge to wrap his hands around Lindal’s neck.

Every Supe in the Supernatural Community believed that Lindal had been cut down, marked as one of the dead or missing, in the last Great War. Instead, she’d hid among a bunch of humans, with her kidnap victim, a woman the Fae people desperately needed. He ran his hands roughly over his face and looked to the heavens for some kind of sign.

Kyland’s gaze darted around to locate any other enemies but found only curious onlookers and banged up cars and trucks. He took a moment to decide if he should call in back up or not as his gaze went to Marin. Why had he been sent alone on this mission?

To answer that, he first needed to answer one every important question. Did the Queen fear her own people?

The fact that Kyland had been sent alone, to retrieve someone that deserved an armed escort, was pretty much answer enough. Had the Queen foreseen that she and her entire house would be cursed and hidden from the rest of the Fae, from the entire Supernatural Community, never to be seen again?

Kyland had been sent alone on this mission, and he had nearly failed. Watching the car closing in, he had known that he would not make it in time. Even moving out of phase, as one with the shadows, Kyland would have been too late. None of his personal magic could have stopped the car from taking the life of the woman he could feel calling out to his essence. He had spent over two decades in search of a poor defenseless child in need of protection, only to find that Marin had the ability to save herself.

The car had been pushed and flipped, as if unseen forces had been displeased. If it hadn’t been for his ability to sense the magic being used, he might have believed the unseen forces theory. After all, he had been told that Marin couldn’t reach, or use, her gifts yet. Dammit. If the power he had felt represented Marin’s untapped gifts, they would all be in a world of trouble if he couldn’t find a way to ease Marin’s power slowly past whatever had them blocked.

If Marin’s gifts exploded from their containment all at once… more than just her psyche and body were in danger. It would be like the magical version of an atomic bomb. Kyland had less than a month, and eventually time would run out. The block had to have been placed over Marin’s psyche, her power. A block Marin’s power had managed to break through, like it was child’s play, only to disappear completely once the danger was past.

Yep. Kyland was in deep and all out of paddles. This mission became more important with every passing second.

Chapter Two

Her perfect crystal now sat in the parking lot of Crystal Sights; Lindal was in surgery fighting for her life, and Marin gazed blankly at the ugliest green wallpaper she had ever seen. Hospital waiting rooms shouldn’t remind a person of moldy vomit. They should be peaceful and comforting. Reminders of the split pea soup incident from the Exorcist were neither peaceful nor comforting. Even a stark white would be more pleasant that the current color palate.

Marin feared that the need to scream and never stop would finally win out. She wanted answers but also needed to forget. Right this second, she’d settle for a nice friendly coat of paint. It would give her mind something to focus on while she waited for the doctors to fix her aunt.

Body shaking like she needed a large hit of Meth, Marin pulled her knees up against her chest and rocked quietly in her less than comfortable chair. She glared at one of the chipped areas of vomit-itis paint. It had been hours of waiting with only her headache, stale coffee, and these horrendous walls to keep her company. Everyone else in the room had managed to fade into the background, her mind uninterested in their presence.

The door to the waiting room opened, causing Marin to glare in that direction. A man in hospital scrubs searched the room for someone. His mouth moved, not that Marin could hear anything over the pounding in her head that caused her ears to ring. The name tag proclaimed that this was Dr. Criss. He had a nice looking mouth, but the rest of his features remained out of focus.

Marin counted the handful of people waiting for news, shocked to realize that the room held a deep well of silence. Surely there should be something to hear. The quiet murmur of loved ones consoling each other, the drone of the television, or even the gurgle of the coffee pot, but Marin caught nothing like that. She couldn’t even remember if the room had been so full hen she first arrived.

The doctor looked straight at Marin and walked in her direction with purpose in his posture and compassion on his face. Was he speaking to her? Her feet dropped to the floor at the same time that her gaze sought out anyone else sitting nearby that could be his intended target. The warring emotions, to get answers and to deny that any of this was real, fought for supremacy.

Marin examined the people sharing the room with her closer. An elderly woman with two small children worked to console her youngest child. No more than two, her little face contorted in distress and hopeless anguish, as she sat clinging to her grandmother. Tears ran down her little rounded cheeks. Her face red and body shaking, the child ignored modern rules of society, and expressed her pain the only way that she knew how. It looked almost freeing. Still, she heard nothing.

Marin could see a man on a pay phone, another man holding a softly crying woman, and a few teens. But not a single sound managed to accompany their actions. Her eyes took in the expressions of pain and sadness, but her mind refused to allow her to hear their distress. That seemed wrong.

The doctor had nearly reached her side. Marin couldn’t see that as a positive sign. The paramedics had told her that things looked good; the beautiful stranger had promised everything would be fine before he had disappeared. Lindal’s breathing had seemed even and controlled when they’d pulled up to the emergency room doors. Marin just couldn’t see how anything good could come from five hours of uncertainty after what had to have been positive lies.

The doctor stopped in front of her, his lips still moving. Maybe he had a tick or something. Marin fought the need to smile. The doctor’s brow crinkled, and he reached out to touch her face. Grasping her chin, he lifted her head up. When he moved closer, to look into her eyes, Marin jolted from the chair.

The world was suddenly rent by a mournful cry, a cry that only the young could dare make. Not yet fearful of what others will think, a child will throw her head back, and shriek her pain to the heavens. Marin wanted that freedom. The little girl with the head full of auburn curls and the extremely healthy lungs continued to cling to her grandmother. Her pain the first sound to shatter the unnatural silence of the waiting room.

The silence hadn’t been that bad, in a way. Marin preferred the denial.

“Miss Yarthine?” the doctor asked.

Dammit. Marin finally made eye contact with the doctor. She needed to do better. She needed to focus before she ended up with her very own hospital gown.

Afraid to speak, Marin just continued to stare. Wanting to release her own cathartic wails, she wrapped her arms protectively around her body, and managed a small nod. She felt something touch her shoulder and glanced back in the doctor’s direction, not remembering when she had turned away. This had to be shock. There was a constant buzz emanating from her temples, and that couldn’t be good either.

Marin’s head felt like a stranger. She could feel this ticking beat, as if her heart had managed to make the climb in to her head. The noise in her head kept changing. Sometimes, she felt like she had a few bees in residence, and at others she just knew that an angry band had taken to using the space between her ears for practice.

Smiling kindly and reclaiming her attention, the doctor said, “Your aunt is unconscious at the moment. She hasn’t woken yet, so we’re keeping her in the ICU at least until she wakes. Visiting hours are over until tomorrow afternoon, but I think we can let you come back to see her for a few minutes. Her brain received quite a trauma. All her other injuries appear stable for now, but the brain… we really can’t know more until she’s conscious.”

Marin didn’t know what to say. Her head bowed, and she covered her mouth with a shaking hand. Her knees wanted to buckle. She felt weak as the weight of so much worry lightened. With a barely repressed sob, Marin managed to choke out, “Thank you.” The news wasn’t perfect, but at least her aunt was still alive.

The doctor turned to leave, and Marin followed him and a nurse that had managed to go unnoticed. Somehow managing to find the strength to make her legs steady, as they went down the hall, Marin couldn’t help but feel impatient. She wanted to run, to see Lindal with her own eyes.

Maybe if Marin held Lindal’s hand, felt her precious warmth…Who was she kidding? Marin needed her aunt to open her eyes and give one of those frosty glares that she had perfected over the years.

Marin’s hand flew up to catch an inappropriate giggle, and the buzzing in her temple started pulsating to a new rhythm, but she didn’t care. She needed proof that Lindal was still alive, that her only family member would continue to make her life miserable.

The small room where they finally stopped sat behind a glass wall, the privacy curtain only partially closed, so that the end of the bed could be clearly seen from outside. The crash cart sitting within easy reach of the door left a less than comforting ache in Marin’s chest. The sooner Lindal could be moved to a less threatening room, the better.

“Ten minutes. But then you’ll need to come back during visiting hours,” the nurse explained in a firm, but sympathetic voice. The doctor had already disappeared.

Marin could barely hear the nurse’s words; she seemed kind enough, but at that moment, Marin wanted to be alone. Seeming to understand, the nurse gave her another sympathetic look, and left Marin to peek around the curtain by herself.

Lindal’s small form, lying quietly in th midst of tubes and wires, barely filled half of the twin-size hospital bed. Her aunt had always been small, even shorter than Marin’s own five-foot-two-inches. In the hospital bed, the force that naturally radiated off Lindal’s every movement became subdued, and her strong personality lessened. Her aunt look abnormally vulnerable.

Rubbing her arms, Marin wanted to take a step away from the unreal sight; instead, she forced her hands to grip the footboard tightly. She had come so close to losing Lindal.

The paramedics had arrived quickly, but they never would have made it in time. Marin wasn’t stupid. Lindal hadn’t been breathing, and that meant one thing, and one thing only. Lindal had died. With only Marin to help her, she would have stayed that way. Stranger or not, Kyland had saved Lindal’s life.

Kyland had come out of nowhere and disappeared the same way. Marin shook her head, doubting that she would ever be able to find him to thank him. On one hand, some unnamed tension left her body at the thought that she would never have to face him again. Face the emotions he’d stirred. Still, his absence left a hole in her heart, and a choking thickness in her throat. Which made absolutely no sense. Marin knew nothing about this man. How did he cause confusion strong enough to overwhelm her mind in such a short time period? Marin shook her head. The who and where of Kyland were problems for another day. Right now she needed to focus on Lindal.

Marin needed answers. Like why had they been targeted? The parking lot hadn’t exactly been lacking for vehicular violence victim contenders. There had been a group of at least four women, standing by their cars, chatting after they’d finished shopping. Courtesy demanded that their parking spots be relinquished quickly on such a busy day. Why not them?

The man, and Marin was only guessing that the driver was a man, had bypassed those without parking lot etiquette and zeroed in on Lindal. If she had continued her slow progress through the parking lot, would Marin be in this horrible room with its beeping monitors and bleached air instead of Lindal.

Staring down at her aunt’s unmoving form, Marin tried to find a place to rest her hand. She needed to touch her. She needed to know that the only person willing to take her in, after the death of her mother, was really here and still alive.

“They will find him, Lindal. He won’t get away with this,” Marin made her vow as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb Lindal’s recovery.

Glancing up to keep tears from falling from her eyes, Marin noticed something swinging off of Lindal’s oxygen line. “What the…” It looked like a Barbie doll with wings, perhaps six inches tall. The odd little creature wore a loin cloth and sported some overly obvious male attributes. Was it wrong to be checking out the abs of someone no larger than a child’s toy? Marin shook her head trying to dispel the illusion.

His arms tugged and his muscles bunched as he attempted to make a knot in Lindal’s oxygen line. His silver skin tone went beautifully with his tri-colored wings, a mix of light purple, maroon, and gold. The little man didn’t seem to realize that Marin was staring at him.

“Stop,” Marin shouted. Dammit, this was a hospital. She needed to lower her voice. She also needed to go upstairs to the psych ward. Head trauma, shock, or hallucinations¼ something wasn’t right. If she told Lindal about this, her aunt would call her every kind of fool.

Hallucination or not, she grabbed the little man by the wings, pulled him from Lindal’s oxygen line, and tried to speak more calmly. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She finally had her figment’s attention. A striking, though small, pair of lavender eyes glared at her through overly long sandy brown bangs. On closer inspection, she could see that his hair was actually multicolored. It seemed to go from crystal white sand to bronzed gold. Obviously, she had a very strong imagination.

“Well, answer me. What do you think you’re doing?”

“Waiting for you, of course.”

“What are you?” She was losing it. The buzzing in her temples was increasing. And she was now speaking to a figment of her imagination. Yep, she needed to be medicated.

The creature put its tiny fists on narrow hips. “A Sprite, of course. Don’t you know anything? I have my work cut out for me.” Now she was being insulted by her imagination. Great.

“Nope. Too Much,” Marin said and tossed the little man with wings out of the hospital window. She needed coffee. Either that or a large dose of Thorazine. Or maybe both.

Chapter Three

The smell reached her first. Marin tried not to gag, quickly covering her mouth with her hand as she glanced around the quiet street, trying to pinpoint the source of the foul stench polluting the air supply. She had never been subjected to anything so horrible in her life. The strength of the odor nearly knocked her off her feet, indicating that the source had to be close.

Behind her, Marin could see the café she’d just left and little else. A thrift shop and a dollar store stood a few blocks farther down the street. If the smell had come from one of those buildings, she would have noticed sooner. The aroma in the café had been wonderful, and it had taken over a block before the air around her had lost its caffeinated buzz. Marin was considering turning back and returning to the baked bread and roasted coffee beans just to escape the repulsive smell.

To her left and right, she saw little shops selling antiques. A few mom and pop stores that were already closed for the night filled in the rest. The sound of frogs mating came from every direction. Marin should have felt surrounded honeysuckle not sewage.

Honeysuckle grew more rampant than most weeds, but the smell brightened a Kentucky night in spring. Or it should have.

Nothing around Marin appeared capable of creating the current stench. The hospital sat in front of her, a few blocks away, but that couldn’t be it. Surely, the EPA would have issued a warning by now if a medical facility randomly produced toxic gas. That only left the kids she watched coming around the corner, between her and the hospital’s front doors.

The small group of kids turned and headed Marin’s way. Cocking her head to the side, she wondered what they were doing out so late. Even the café was about to close. Which meant midnight was closing in. The young boys swaggered her way only wearing ragged short, without a pair of shoes between them. Odd. Oh, Marin knew that people took the returning of hot weather as an excuse to leave their footwear behind, but that was in their own yards. Children did not run barefoot while roaming downtown Ashland.

Marin cringed, thinking that if they were the cause of the revolting odor, then their parents needed to be shot. Her kinder side wanted to warn them, to scream at them to run in the other direction, as fast as possible. Especially as the horrible stench continued to worsen. Marin could see the headlines now… “Small town overwhelmed by invisible toxic waste. At least six dead.”

Perhaps the kids hadn’t noticed but Marin’s overly sensitive nose screamed in pain. She lifted her coffee closer, but didn’t drink. Adding anything to her stomach at this point seemed like an unnecessary risk. Enhanced senses weren’t uncommon. Still, true enhancement was rare enough that most people kept the strength of their senses quiet. Being born without an enhancement meant that you ran the risk of being called plain or average. People like Marin, with more than one enhanced sense, were considered freaks. But even with her steaming drink pressed close to her face, she felt overwhelmed by the attacking odor.

The café made the best latte in three states. The person responsible for ruining her beverage owed Marin a serious apology. She wished that she could rewind to this morning. What good did seeking out a mission to complete and a birthday gift really do? She had lost the crystal and could still lose her aunt. This day couldn’t have been worse. The sooner she reached the hospital and its bleached smelling green halls the better. The waiting room would be her new home until Lindal was well enough for a regular room.

Marin suddenly found herself face down on the ground, instead of inhaling her drink and rushing toward the hospital. Her wonderful smelling, yet ridiculously hot, beverage had thankfully been thrown away from her body. She rolled over to find herself surrounded by five of the ugliest kids she had ever seen. Their arms were too long, or at least longer than normal, and their legs seemed too short for their bodies. Their ears were large and slightly floppy. The varying degrees of red in their rather large eyes had to be from contacts. It was not a natural eye color. And each nose she glanced at seemed to be larger than the last.

Marin ground out, “What the hell?”

Ugly or not, one of these little shits had tripped her. Marin had also located the source of the unholy odor. One or all of their parents needed to be charged with crimes against humanity and punished for not hosing the little monsters down occasionally. Marin swallowed, did her best to breathe through her mouth, and tried to keep from throwing up. She could only hope that her sense of smell began to fail sometime soon.

Ignoring the children, Marin tried to get to her feet with some dignity. She needed to be done with the day that would not end. Being picked on by a group of adolescent terrors had her flinching at how she ranked in the world.

One of the demon children got a firm hold on Marin’s ankle and tossed her through the air. Okay. So maybe these weren’t children. Unless the local elementary had a problem with steroid usage, Marin felt safe in the assumption that these were not your average ten-year-old boys.

The air left her lungs in a rush as Marin landed with jarring force. Refusing to take in any more of the vile air, she began begging for unconsciousness, just to escape the gag factor.

Finally, gasping for any oxygen she could find, Marin tried to figure out what she had slammed into. She knew that bruises were beginning to form, and that something wet ran down her temple. A temple that had exploded into a riot of sound. The buzzing had morphed into an angry rock band impersonation and pulsating as if it wanted out of her mind to manifest and subdue her angry half-pint attackers.

Lying on a small patch of grass, off the beaten path and unlikely to be seen, Marin did her best to ignore her pounding head and aching body, to focus on her assailants. Anton’s free self-defense classes, plus the daily embarrassments from losing to Lindal, flew through her mind. She quickly rolled into a crouch, knowing that the martial arts teacher that Anton had hired would be very disappointed if he could see her now. Sensei Liu Kuan’s favorite phrase had always been, “Anyone can be a threat.” Staring at five volcanic midgets, she finally understood.

Marin waited for their next move. She noticed that aside from the two carrying batons that had come out of nowhere, one had a knife. An extremely large knife. The last two didn’t seem to have any weapons. Maybe they wanted to kill her old school and just beat her to death. Or maybe they were just here as an audience. Like any good blood sport, they were going to watch her get her ass kicked.

The one with the knife came at Marin first. As she dove out of the way, she felt the knife nick her shoulder, having barely missed her neck.

One of the unholy terrors broke the unnatural silence with a hissing snicker. Marin continued to roll, moving in the direction of the baton brothers, hoping to knock one of them to the ground and earn a weapon for her trouble.

As she rolled into a crouch and launched herself at the feet of one of the baton carrying bastards, Marin felt long denied emotions heating her blood and tingling along her skin. Rage strong enough to take on a life of its own allowed her to forget that her attackers looked like helpless minors. At that moment, Marin wanted to lash out with the intent of doing permanent harm. Her quiet rage had come out of nowhere, sudden and strong. She sucked in some of the foul oxygen. She was pissed.

A baton came down, barely missing Marin as she quickly rolled away and lashed out with her foot. She heard a satisfying pop and the ugly little man – no way was this a child – let out a high-pitched screech, grabbed for his destroyed kneecap, and collapsed to the ground. She continued to tell herself that she wasn’t facing children as she snatched up his dropped weapon. It was that or let herself be murdered.

Keeping her body low and loose, she waited for the next attack. She now had one of their batons and four short but freakishly strong attackers to deal with. With a cry of fury, she swung for another set of knees.

Out of the corner of her eye, Marin saw the knife coming her way, but she had already committed to her swing. All her focus was on knee-capping the second baton wielder. These bastards should at least come at her one at a time. It was the polite thing to do.

Marin barely felt the pain of the knife cutting across her right side as she allowed her momentum to take her into another roll. Baton brothers one and two were now disarmed and moaning with their ruined knees as the one with the knife came in for another pass.

Marin was getting sick and tired of losing blood. The cutting had to go. At this rate, the guy would eventually succeed in slitting her throat.

Focusing on the knife heading for her neck once again, Marin forgot about everyone else and aimed her baton at the wrist joint. By the scream of pain reverberating along the street, she could tell that her strike was unexpected but successful. If she lived through this, she would have to thank Sensei Liu for the exercises dedicated to joint weaknesses.

Marin could admit that she regularly went unnoticed and underestimated, but these guys should be taking her more seriously. Especially if they planned to kill her. She had always been faster and stronger than most women her size. At 5’2”, Marin’s height was considered below average for a woman, and her slender frame made her appear so much smaller. Most days, she even felt vulnerable. But for the first time in her life, she didn’t. She felt powerful. She felt not only that she could, but would, use all those hours of martial arts to defend herself.

Having lost his knife, the third guy cradled his wrist and backed away. Marin turned only enough to be able to focus on the remaining men, while still keeping her downed attackers in the corner of her eye. She hoped that the baton would give her the slight edge she needed.

“Well, damn,” Marin hissed.

The last two men were now armed. Carrying what appeared to be stone clubs that had to weigh at least a few tons each. Okay. Maybe they didn’t weigh tons, but talk about unfair advantage. The last two guys moved together like a pair of evil ugly-assed twins. Marin knew she should have stolen the last guy’s knife. How the hell were they even picking those clubs up?

Her body tense, Marin’s gaze searched for a distraction, anything to scare them off. That’s when she saw him. Lindal’s savior from earlier popped out of nowhere, running toward the fight. Smiling, she knew that Kyland would be too late but would deal with her attackers.

Two stone clubs were zeroing in on her. It was going to be impossible to avoid them both.

Choosing to focus on the twin to the right, Marin made her move. Throwing up her left arm as a block, she turned slightly and jabbed her baton into the groin of her target. Picturing the baton going through the groin and coming out the other side, Marin made sure to grunt just as she had been taught in class.

She pushed to her feet as her jab connected, giving it as much force as possible. The man from the right fell to his knees, his mouth open in a silent scream of agony. His swing lost most of its force, but still connected with her thigh before he abandoned the fight and doubled over in defeat.

“Son of a…” Marin couldn’t finish her expletive.

The man from her left made up for his twin’s less powerful swing, with a blow that would have taken off her head if Marin hadn’t pushed to her feet, while jabbing the other guy in the groin. The stone club slammed into her chest with the force of a freight train. She flew backward into the man with the damaged wrist. With a grunt of surprise, the previous knife wielder pushed her toward the feet of one of his friends. By now she really didn’t care which bastard was which, if she had the energy, she would crush them all. Or try.

The last thing she saw as someone’s leg pulled back for a vicious kick aimed at her skull was her would-be savior. She could see that Kyland had found what appeared to be a short sword.

Having lost her baton, she threw up her arm in the hope that it would protect her head, and silently wished Kyland luck. Marin hoped that those stone clubs didn’t crush his sword too quickly.

Refusing to go out like the weak kitten she normally felt like, Marin decided to go for an ankle, when her retched smelling attacker tried to punt her head like a football. Gritting her teeth, she held tight to the large rock jabbing into the side of her hip. Moving as quickly as possible, she threw her arm into the move. The rock strengthened the force of her swing. She moved quickly but not quickly enough.

Marin could hear fighting and grunts of pain as the foot made contact with her head. The world around her darkened. She allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction as she finally gave in. She had seen the look on Kyland’s face. These four-foot fecal drops were in for a world of hurt. She really hated to miss the show.

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The Hunt

This unedited short story gives us a look at Marin’s life, and the events leading up to her job at Finder’s Keepers. Enjoy this small taste as we wait for Oct 26 and the release of Shocking Finds (A Finder’s Keepers Novel)

The Hunt

Marin knew that she needed to snap out of her trance but what did she have to go back for. The bear at her side coughed his insistence. Sinking her fingers into his fur, she sighed. “You know, this place isn’t real. That means you’re not real. Not in a way that means you can boss me around.”

The bear bumped up against her side causing Marin to stumble. “Knock it off. I don’t want to go back and fight with Lindal. She’s so mad at me for sneaking out to go to the movies. I mean … what’s the big deal. I see other seventeen year olds in these trances, and they go to the movies all the time.”

As Marin dropped to the ground, leaning against one of the large trees in the landscape of her secret world, the bear nuzzled her face before giving her cheek a big wet lick. “Gross… what’s with you, brother bear? And why can’t I find your home?” Marin wiped the spit from her cheek, and examined her friend. The animal had been with her for so long, but any name she tried to give him seemed to upset the animal. He seemed to like Brother Bear, but all other names made him roar and begin to pace.

The bear had showed up in Marin’s secret world the first time she accidentally fell into a trance. He was nothing more than a cub, small and crying in the tall grass. No matter how hard she tried, Marin couldn’t find his momma. Losing his companionship would be devastating, but Marin always tried to feel where he belonged. She didn’t get along with her aunt, Lindal, but at least the woman would be able to find the animal in the real world and help him get home. That’s if Marin could ever sense where his home was.

She shook her head, began rubbing behind his ears as the bear got comfortable at her side, placing his head in her lap. “You know I would rather stay here with you. You’re my only friend.”

Marin had spent the few days in her secret world finding all the lost object she could. Her eyes sought out hidden objects, her ears listened for cries for help, and her hands took in the essence of anything she could reach out and touch. The last object, a wallet, had been lying forgotten under a park bench. Leather with ridged designs etched into the material, the wallet had held pictures and quite a bit of money.

She knew that her secret world was made up of all the places she had ever seen in her trances. She could hear the Ohio River cutting through the Tri-State area she called home. The house she lived in with Lindal was located just outside of Ashland, Ky. Close enough for Marin to feel like she could reach out and touch the Ohio and West Virginia borders. That’s if Lindal ever allowed her to leave the house.

The bear suddenly lunged to his feet, and began to pace. Marin looked around her landscape of apple trees and blue grass. She could hear frogs and crickets, smell the honey suckle in the air. Nothing seemed out of place. Nothing but the agitated bear that suddenly took hold of her shirt in his massive jaws and pulled her to her feet. After bumping her with his head, he plopped down on his haunches and waited, his head cocked to the side.

Marin slammed her hand down on her hips and looked to the sky. She needed to get the information about the wallet back to Lindal, but that didn’t explain her furry friend’s attitude. Taking a deep breath, Marin moved close and ran her hands along his fur. Closing her eyes she allowed her senses to run free. Still, nothing came to her. It was as if the bear didn’t exist. As if he had never belonged anywhere. She found the lost in her trances, so why couldn’t she sense anything about her friend.

Shaking her head, Marin wrapped her arms around his neck. “I will find your home one of these days.” Her voice came out as softly as the summer breeze ruffling her hair.

Stepping back Marin took a deep breath, and tried to mentally prepare herself to face Lindal. Rubbing her hands along her jeans Marin sent out a mental push as she whispered, “I’ll be back, Brother Bear. One day I’ll find your home. I promise.”

“Well, it’s about time. Do you know how put out I’ve been? You spent the last few weeks lazing about in one of your trances while I worry. Do you think this will change my mind? You can’t go out in public unprotected. Your abnormal abilities mean nothing to your safety. You will be attacked just like your mother. Like I want to go through that again. Maybe this is about seeking out danger. Whatever it is, you will stop hiding in your trances. You will-” Lindal’s voice continued to list all the things that Marin wouldn’t do but she was too shocked by her surroundings to listen.

Marin felt the uncomfortable twin mattress at her back, smelled the antiseptic and bleach in the air, and worst of all … she saw the tubes and monitors hooked up to her body. “Where am I?” Oh, she knew what it looked like, but why would she be in a hospital?

“I couldn’t keep caring for you by myself. I refuse to let you die before your time. After the third day of hand feeding your unconscious body, you stopped swallowing on your own. I got these people to do the dirty work for the last few weeks. Having to come in and make sure no one messed with your weak mind while you slept was still a hardship but I don’t care how many comas you put yourself in, I refuse to allow you to test me like this.”

“It was a trance. I didn’t put myself in it. It just happened. I-”

Lindal leaned over the bed rails, her face taking on a lovely shade of red. “Don’t you lie to me girl. I know all about your abnormal issues. That is why we do your exercises. There were ten hidden objects in the back yard that morning, and you located them all. This was about the movies, like I would ever allow you to watch something about dragons and magic. You already question me enough. But to have you running around unprotected, your weak mind open for others to mess with? I won’t have it. Do you want to end up murdered like your mother?”

“No, I swear. The exercises aren’t enough. It’s getting too hard to fight the pull to fall into a trance. When I get stressed I-”

“Are you saying that speaking with your aunt is stressful? That you’re too good to listen to what I have to say? I put up with you, feed you, and allow you to live with me and this is the thanks I get. We’ll see about this.” Lindal her face now a nice purple shade, her body shaking and her fists clenched, stalked from the room.

Marin felt her body start to relax as her aunt cleared the doorframe. She hated fighting with Lindal. The pull of her trances increased in strength when Lindal ranted. Oh, Marin hadn’t lied. It had become harder over the last few months to fight off the pull of a trance, but she could push herself out of one eventually. Once she managed to locate one or two lost objects, she could push herself back to reality.

Holding up the arm connected to a tube of liquid, Marin admitted – if only to herself – that she may have overstayed this time. Worse than fighting with Lindal was the thought of having the only family she had left mad at her. Marin hated the silent treatment more than any rant Lindal could come up with. She hated being stuck in that lonely house with no one to talk to. Still, a few weeks in her secret world had been worth the hospital stay. If she didn’t fear that Lindal would pull the plug – so to speak – Marin would allow fall back into the trance pulling at her attention. Instead, she focused on the hospital room and sought out the hidden and lost. She needed to get released, to comb out the rat’s nest growing on her head, and shave the forest of hair from her legs. Marin felt like she hadn’t seen a sponge bath her entire stay. Yuck, her mouth felt like a dried out milk carton with a fine layer of chalk. All else could wait. First she needed a shower and a large glass of water.

Marin read the newspaper that she had requested and that Lindal had slammed into her lap, after shoving her into a wheelchair. Where were the chipper candy stripers? The put out transporter, or as Marin thought of them … patient pushers? Even a nurse ratchet wannabe would be better than a pissed off Lindal. How in the world had Lindal convinced the hospital to keep her for three more days. She was sick of being poked and prodded, tested for every physical ailment under the sun.

The news was usually damn depressing, but Marin still wanted to know what was going on in the world she longed to be a part of. She read about the pie eating contest. The pictures of blueberry covered faces causing a chuckle to escape her mouth. There was something about a shooting over in West Virginia, which killed her amusement. Two dead, a man hunt, and questions over police ineffectiveness due to reduced presence in the area.

Marin remembered reading last week about budget cuts and layoffs for police departments in the Tri-state area. How could they prevent something like this shooting if they didn’t have the necessary manpower?

Flipping the page she found more about the pie eating contest and the local festival being held in downtown Ashland. Cotton candy, funnel cakes, carnival rides, craft stands, and more… Marin wanted to bounce in her seat. Festivals were excellent opportunities for her. People misplaced all kinds of stuff at fairs, carnivals, and festivals.

“Lindal… maybe I could keep the trances at bay if we went to the festival downtown. I could locate all kinds of stuff. I could-”

“No.”

That was it. No. Nothing more. No reasoning, no replacement ideas, just No. Marin did her best to suppress her emotions, not to react. Taking a deep breath, she tried to convince her aunt. “If I want to stay out of my trances, then I need to be able to look for something harder to locate than your car keys. I need-”

“I have already come up with an alternative.”

When Lindal fell silent, Marin swallowed her curiosity and went back to her newspaper. Lindal would tell her when she was ready. Questions now would just incite rants and punishments, and leave Marin and her curiosity unanswered.

Marin walked into Finder’s Keepers, her nerves on fire. A week of waiting and finally she had answers. Lindal woke her up at six a.m. with a threat and a promise. Marin could work at Finder’s Keepers – if they were willing to take her – but only in the office. If she stepped out of line, or willingly slipped into her trance world when it wasn’t needed for her job, Lindal would make sure she never left the house again. They lived on a few acres of land but it was lonely. No visitors, no pets, and no escape. Sure, Marin could move out. She would be eighteen next year, but she didn’t have the internal shields that she should have been born with. Shields that would protect her mind, keep her safe. Lindal was the only family she had, the only one willing to protect her from those in the world that would mess with her mind. It wasn’t magic. Lindal had made that clear.

There were those that could use their own senses to confuse others, but only if you didn’t have shields to block their evil. Her mother had ventured out without protection, without internal shields, and ended up on the wrong end of a mugger’s gun. Lindal was harsh and abrasive but her rules were made to keep Marin safe. She hated the restrictions and her aunt’s gruff demeanor, but she understood and tried to respect the rules.

“Honey child, ya appear to be in the wrong place.” The woman’s purring voice broke Marin from her thoughts. An Amazon Beauty, dressed to kill, with the world’s smallest pug under her arm stood in front of Marin, seductively leaning up against the receptionist’s desk. Even her slight southern accent came across as purring.

Marin didn’t know how to answer. She looked around the office full of antiques and finely pressed workers. They ran around in suits filing their papers, chatting in small groups and straightening ties and skirts worth more than the hope diamond, and preparing for a day full of what Marin could only guess would be high class clientele. Even the pug looked highbrow. Ready to run back to Lindal, Marin swallowed the lump in her throat. “I-”

Before Marin could say more she spotted a man with more pose than the entire office combined. Dress pants pressed to in perfect lines, the silk of his shirt hanging in such a way to show off the strength of fine contours full of muscles and potential. Even his dress shoes were impressive, with a clean shine most only had while coming out of the box for the first time. But it was his eyes that froze her ability to speak, shining with a mixture of colors she had only ever seen in the mirror.

From across the room his eyes appeared to be the lightest of blues, but standing next to the Amazon and her pug, his eyes shown with an opal-like shade. They were lighter than her own but close enough to leave her in wonder.

Managing to look down at the taller woman, he glanced at her then turned those eyes Marin’s way. “I am Antonius Slade, though most just call me Anton. If you will come with me, we can get your test underway.”

“Anton? I don’t wanna rile anybody, but with ten new Finders to show around. Ya don’t have time for another pischouette under foot.”

Marin didn’t know what a pischouette was but she didn’t think the term was complimentary.

Anton managed to smile with just one corner of his mouth. “That will be all, Makayla. We can talk about training assignments after Miss Yarthine takes the test.”

“As ya like, Sugar.” With that Makayla turned and swayed her way out of the waiting area, and went to perch on someone else’s desk.

Anton turned to Marin, his posture falling into relaxed lines. “If you will come with me, my dear, we can evaluate your abilities. Your aunt managed to convince me, even though the age limit is twenty-one.” Marin followed him down the hall and into a meeting room as he continued to talk. “I prefer to work with Finders that have gone through their Transition. After your twenty-first birthday you will know which of your gifts will stabilize and which will grow. No offence, but most your age are unable to use their heightened sense.”

Anton moved to the large meeting table, piled high with charcoals, sketch pads, and a few pens. Marin twisted her fingers, chewed on her lips and estimated her chances of getting out of the room before he turned around.

“Is there a problem, my dear?”

Damn… too late. “Well… usually I use canvas and oil paints.” She then rushed on, her words running together. “I’m sure this will work.” Marin felt sure that she could still use a sketch pad. It had been years, but hopefully the basics were still there. It would make her trance harder to get down. With paint and canvas, her body knew how to depict what she saw, felt, and heard… all without the need to come out of her trance.

“Hmm… I believe I will have Makayla run out and get the supplies you are in need of.” Anton cocked his head to the side, before nodding to himself. “Yes. That will work nicely. For now, I will have you start on the written portion. My second in command, Cedric, will bring in object that will test your senses. Usually we use wine in the taste portion of the test, but the other three objects will still work. I will work on locating something to replace the wine. Even someone that has never had a glass can tell what fruit was used in its production. As well as a number of other attributes. Just get comfortable and Cedric will be with you momentarily. After we test your senses, I will ask you to work a Find. I will give you an object with the essence of someone, someone the police would appreciate speaking with.”

Marin watched Anton leave the room. Did he not realize that Makayla was dangerous in that southern way where you only see the smile on her face? You completely miss the knife going for your heart. Marin never wanted to get on Makayla’s bad side, but that looked like a lost cause. Especially if Anton kept sending her on errands for Marin’s needs. Yep. Anton would just make this a hostile working environment.

Marin tried out a few of the seat, picking the most comfortable one, and started looking through the art supplies available to her. She wondered if Lindal was allowing her to take this test because she believed that Marin would fail. Taking a deep breath, she rolled her shoulders and prepared to ace whatever test they threw at her. By this time next week, Marin would be working as a Finder. No matter what.

Anton watched through the glass doors to the conference room. He couldn’t believe how well this girl was doing. She had a mastery of all five senses that he had never seen before. At this point, only her age held him back. Even with the last test where she would work a Find for them, he could see her potential.

Cedric had given Marin some toast with grape jelly, while she sat blindfolded. The blindfold wasn’t necessary but it did deprive her of one of her senses. They had decided to see just how good she truly was. One bit and she had managed to name the food, as well as all the ingredients involved in their productions. White wheat toast with jelly made from concord grapes grown in the Yakima Valley in Washington. She was doing Direct Finds while eating her toast. They didn’t need such a complete answer but if was too amazing to interfere. Anton had stepped back and watched as Marin continued to tell them the brand of toaster oven used, what she could feel about the person working the toaster, and feel of the wind through the tree as a farmer harvested the wheat to make the bread. When she started talking about the rain in Washington, Anton had stepped from the room. He wanted to forgo the last test and just hire her now.

The woman from his dreams had told him to keep her close, and working for him was pretty damn close. If her aunt’s request had been the only swaying factor he had to consider, the answer would have been now. Marin’s aunt had been making appointments, sitting in his office, or just hanging out in the waiting room every day last week. Still, he had held firm. Then he had a dream where a hooded woman pleaded with him to watch over Marin. That pushed him to allow this test, but no more.

Watching Marin work, he wanted to sign her, give her a bonus, and plead with her to work overtime. With her skills they could take on twice as many clients. That’s if the last part of the test didn’t freak her out.

Makayla slammed the easel in her arms down beside him, allowed the bag of paint supplies to fall to the floor. Without another word she stalked away, which was completely unlike the fiery southerner. No polite rant, and her stalk lacked its usual sexual sway.

Chuckling to himself, Anton focused back on the conference room as Cedric finished up and made his way to the door.

Cedric stepped into the hallway and quietly shut the door before saying, “This is a bad idea.”

Anton crossed his arms, his head slanting to the side. “You do not think we should hire her?”

“Hell, yeah we should hire that girl. I don’t care how old she is. But asking her to work on the same Find that we had the other applicants work on is a mistake. We could be scarring that girl for life.”

Anton pinched the bridge of his nose and turned his back on the conference room. “You are right. I know you are right. That does not change the fact that we need information.”

“I know, I know.” Cedric paced in small circles, glancing into the conference room every few other turn. “I got it. We can ask her to look at just part of the crime scene evidence, and to … I don’t know … ignore the bloodier parts of her trance.”

“That is not how a trance works and you know it.”

Cedric stopped pacing, and focused on Anton. “Then we hire her and ask her to skip the Finder’s Trance. If she does a Direct Find, she should get less than if she slipped into a trance. But after watching her work, anything she gets will be more than the police currently have.”

Anton knew this was a bad idea. He should just hire Marin and be done with it. He should ignore his need for information and send her home for the day, or maybe he should go ahead and show her to the empty office that he was ready to put her name on. Going against his better judgment, Anton handed over an evidence bag and watched as Cedric went to initiate the last test.

Marin could feel her eyes bulging out of her head as she watched Cedric move towards her with a clear baggie that held a very deadly looking gun. Before she knew what she was doing, Marin was scooting her seat away from the conference table. She had worked dozens of Finds but one look at the weapon and she could feel her sense trying to pull her into a trance. She stood up as Cedric placed the gun on the table. Before he could say a word, she opened the bag and held the grip firmly in her hand, allowing her need to slip away to take over.

Instantly, Marin knew where she was. She remembered the news article about the gunman that had shot up the Huntington Bestbuy. The alarm blared overhead as she watched blood seep from a man’s chest wound, his eyes beginning to glaze over. Blood splattered in every direction as the gun went off once, twice, three times. Her own body jerked as she watched the bullets slam home into a teenage stockboy and what Marin could describe as a soccer mom. Marin watched as the stockboy tried to drag his body to safety, only to receive the third bullet.

She didn’t know where the rest to the customers and store employees were hiding but she hoped they managed to stay out of sight. Marin would have searched the room for their hiding places but her eyes refused to move away from the small pair of cleats, barely seen behind the isle to the gunman’s left. Marin wanted to jump up and down, she wanted to scream, do anything to keep that evil man’s attention away from small feet.

It was harder than usual to make out facial characteristics, but Marin pushed. She ignored everything but the man holding the deadly weapon. She could make out a scar on his neck and a tattoo on his right bicep. She knew where he purchased the gun, where he was when he loaded the bullets, and what he drove while carrying his firearm.

Marin was focused on the man’s build and his walk as he searched the store, when the alarm suddenly cut off. That’s when they heard it. A small whimper came from the owner of the small pair of cleats, causing the man to whirl around and Marin to jump into his path – as if she could change what would happen next.

She watched him stalk across the room trying to remember if there were three dead or four, if the article had said anything about wounded or kidnapped kids. Marin threw her hands into the air but as the man got within touching distance her perception of the room changed, allowing her to watch as he took hold of one tiny ankle to pull out his prize.

The child was screaming for his mommy, gazing at the woman dead on the floor. The gunman tossed the crying burden over his shoulder and ran from the store. Marin followed just in time to watch a rusted pickup truck race from the parking lot as a gun flew from the driver’s window. She didn’t know if the license plate was a fake. Just incase, Marin quickly memorized the letters and numbers, determined to give Anton as much information as possible.

Anton and Cedric had been working together to change out the canvas Marin worked on every time she froze and glanced around as if searching for a place to paint. They had quickly figured out what to do after her first pause. She had glanced around, but with no new canvas to work on, Marin had begun painting on very expensive side table meant for refreshments during meetings.

Marin’s eyes were wide as she sat staring at the gun in her hand. Before Anton could move or say anything, she dropped the gun and proceeded to throw up with wracking sobs.

Cedric handed her a wet face towel as she began to quiet. Marin whipped her face with the cool cloth, and Anton felt sure that she would want to pass on the job when she said, “I need to see that car.”

It was the last thing he expected, and Anton decided that showing her to her new office could wait. The car had been seen on the video tape and found abandoned three blocks from the abduction sight.

Cedric took her soiled face towel and handed her another. “Are you sure you want to do that? We don’t know what else you might see. If could be worse than the handgun.”

Marin squared her shoulders and nodded once. “I want to help. Want to get to that kid as soon as possible.”

Her hands were shaking but Anton could read the determination in the set of her lips. Her emotions were hidden, even though he could read emotions better than he could read facial features. He didn’t understand why, but pushed his curiosity to the back of his mind and focused on how best to use his new asset. Marin had more talent than all of his resent hires combined.

Blog Tour

I decided to update and reblog this post… this way anyone interested in joining the blog tour will have an excerpt of Shocking Finds, without searching. I added the excerpt at the end of this post… happy reading, and happy wordage… tracey

Finder's Keepers - Author Tracey Clark

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*pic found at https://twitter.com/DenoglaFilms

@DenoglaFilms

PRESS RELEASE: Tracey Clark signs on

Gone Writing Publishing would like to welcome Tracey Clark as our newest signed author.
Be on the look out in the Fall of 2015 for Tracey’s newest book. Shocking Finds: A Finder’s Keeper.
-Gone Writing Publishing

Sooo … the excitement continues. This is all so new and overwhelming at times, but then I take a deep breath and get my fears under control. My wonderful publisher, Mary Smith at http://gonewritingpublishing.blogspot.com/, has been working over time to get my book, and me, ready for release. Her editor is hard at work checking all my dotted i’s and crossed t’s, her graphic artist is pulling together the perfect image to represent the feel of the world I created.

I’m not sure what exactly happens during a blog tour, and sadly didn’t have time to gone into an in depth Q&A with…

View original post 14,533 more words

Meeting the World

http://gonewritingpublishing.blogspot.com/2015/08/press-release-tracey-clark-signs-on.html?spref=fb

Shocking Finds, by Tracey L Clark to be published

 Well, so much excitement … with a heavy dose of OMG. I want to run up and down the street like a wild woman, screaming “My book is coming, my book is coming!!!” I am so overwhelmed, anxious, filled with nerves and enough happiness to split my face in half with my grin.

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Soooo, now what? Well, my job is done. Right? I can take my best bud and move to my own personal island. I can grab some me time, and finally relax as I watch all the copies of my world-changing book fly off the shelf. I can plan out my next step with leisure. HA!

I don’t know what will come next. Not really. But I know that the world of books doesn’t end when a publisher takes interest. For now, I plan to start edits on books two and three. I plan to cross my fingers that the world enjoys Shocking Finds: A Finder’s Keepers Novel. And above all else … I plan to follow my publisher’s lead. She is the expert here, in this frightening world. I can’t wait to yell out, “I sold my first book!!” I think that first book sale will feel like that first dollar that new business owners have framed up on their wall. But to get to the point that I get to grin about book sales, I need to follow and learn from Mary at http://gonewritingpublishing.blogspot.com/

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Now it is back to the keyboard. Now I beg for reviews from the betas that helped me to get to this point. I squeal with joy with my writing buddies that have had my back when I believed that no one would ever want to take a chance on a girl with nothing to list in the accomplishments area of an evil query letter. Now I go out to celebrate with my mother and the friends that continued to tell me that my story had merit. Now, I promote and get ready to ride the roller coaster to come. So many people helped to push me up high enough to reach my goal. The writing world is a wonderful place. I have been extremely lucky to find fellow wordy friends, while embracing the support from home.

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I don’t know how other writers do this. How do we face the unknown as we place our hard work in the hands of others? I hope that every lover of Paranormal/Fantasy Romance finds their way to my novel, and that they enjoy the world unfolding around Marin. If they enjoy the Fae assassins, snotty little Sprite, and the romantic leading man (Kyland) half as much as I enjoyed writing about them, then that will be a gift. With each review that I read about the love a reader has found for my writing, I want to start my sprints down the street all over again. So far I have had nothing but positive words coming my way, and I have treasured each and every comment.

I hope the crushing blow of the unavoidable negative review (because not every book lover, loves in the same way) doesn’t come for years. Hey, maybe even decades… 😛 For now, it is back to my wonderful worlds. Maybe I can write a few shorts to cleanse my writing palate. Like stretches before the big race. Maybe I will explore mystical castles, the world of dragons, or even the descent into the unknown.

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*all pics can be found on Pinterest

I can’t wait to start sharing things like my first book cover, the release date (which should be sometime in the coming Fall), and all the updates on future insanity. Cause you know there will be insanity. But the good kind of insanity, the kind that leads to laughter and an extra chapter or two in my next novel. For now, how about one of my favorite moments from Shocking Finds….

—-excerpt—

Being forced to play chauffeur already had Anton on edge. The little gift in his trunk was going to push him over the edge. Kyland hid his grin in Marin’s hair.

Straightening in his seat, Kyland allowed Anton to see his smirk, as their eyes met in the rearview mirror. “You may wish to drive faster. Arriving at Marin’s before the present in your trunk is fully awake could prove prudent.” At least Kyland had a base line for how long his sleeping draft would last.

“What do you mean? What present? And why my trunk?” Anton sure had a lot of questions, but at least he drove a little faster.

“I needed to transport him back to Marin’s house, and your car was unlocked.”

“It most certainly was not, you Battle-Fae-Bastard.” Anton was vibrating with tension.

“It was after I broke in.” And, okay, Kyland was enjoying himself. He felt lighter, more energetic.

Anton stared into the mirror, shock and anger plain on his face. Before he could speak, and possibly ruin their lovely drive, Kyland added, “I do not know what the big deal is. Marin blew out the rest of the windows, and I needed to open the trunk.” Kyland smirked and then happily pointed out, “Watch the road, or at least that tree blocking our way.”

—–Happy wordage, Tracey

Goodbye Roanoke – a jodina short (an excerpt)

 

“Let me out of this bloody hole, you rat bastards. I’ll burn this place to the ground. Now, open this door!” Jodina’s voice came out flat, barely bouncing off the dirt walls of her cell. If you could call a hole in the ground a cell. It was more like a cave, or the side view of an open grave, with metal bars blocking the only exit.

“This isn’t right. What if she’s clean?” A young boy, of perhaps fifteen years, turned to the incompetent oaf by his side, and pleaded.

Jodina watched, as the lad hunched his shoulders, crossing his arms protectively around his chest. His words had pulled her gaze down to her filthy state of undress. “At least supply me with some form of clothing. Or perhaps you enjoy watching women freeze to death.”

The oaf pushed the younger man out of his way, so that he could have a clear shot at her chest, his sword sharp as he thrust forward, with experienced precision. A precision that would have impaled her heart, but Jodina moved with a quickness that saved her life. Her quick movements also drew a gasp of shock from both of her jailers.

Goodbye Roanoke, sneak peak, Not for distribution outside Author’s Permission © Tracey Clark

—–

For more paranormal/fantasy *(I can never tell the difference. If there be vamps and shifters, count me in) and don’t forget romance (not to worry… Jodina has better taste than to fall for the oaf above… her vamp in shining armor has yet to come) follow this blog hop full of everything we all enjoy … tracey clark

Paranormal Love Wednesdays Blog-Hop
http://t.co/lRgQ7fUzNG

hopefully, FINAL EDITS

I managed to find four wonderful beta readers. Their feed feedback told me what they liked, what caused their reading to stumble, and what area’s of FINDER’S KEEPERS they found confusing. Most importantly, at least to me, they gave me a boost in confidence when that I didn’t even know I needed.

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The first eight chapters have been updated, improved, and rechecked. Some of which, I will be sharing at the end of this blog. My baby is growing, and soon will become a novel ready for the world. I want to share my creation with more people, that will hopefully feel as a few of the betas did. One of the betas wrote that she stayed up late and then finished the book the next morning. Now that is high praise. Finding a few betas, a few strangers, to give you baby over to, is stressful and scary. But in the end, the experience is rewarding no matter what your beta tells you.

Having someone else to test run your work gives you that real world input that everyone needs. You created this novel, you put in the characters with their hardships and joys, Finding out what others have to say helps you grow in knowledge about yourself and your work. For the first time I am enjoying my edit, second guessing myself less and less.

Now, without further ado, here is a SNEAK PEAK of Finder’s Keepers

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Shocking Finds: a Finder’s Keepers novel

Chapter One

Marin Yarthine had trouble containing a childish giggle or two. She had managed to locate an Orion Starbrary Indigo Violet Aura Lemurian Seed Quartz Crystal for her boss. The longest, oddest name for a rock, but Anton had been very specific. Besides, she was the best Finder at Finder’s Keepers, who better to go on this mission.

Okay … so her job wasn’t to actually go out in the field and complete the Finds. Marin knew that she was basically a high paid researcher. She could take a piece of cloth and tell you where it had been, what had been near it, who had touched it, and more importantly … she could visualize where any related objects may be located.

Yesterday, Anton handed Marin an old text book written in something that looked like Latin, and asked her to Find a rare crystal for his collection. The words on the book had been meaningless to her, but once Marin had held the fragile text in her hands, she had known exactly where to go.

Marin had wanted to complete just one mission on her own. She had been prepared to search the dank and cold Kentucky cave systems, not stopping until she had her Find. It was a simple case, with no danger involved. She would never attempt the kidnaping cases, or one of the Finds involving a murder weapon.

Marin had been surprised to feel the newest store in the area, Crystal Sights, pulling at her Finder’s gift. Anton had sworn up and down that the crystal would be hard to find. Aisle six – rare gems and crystals – was not her idea of difficult. In and out, and no one had gotten hurt.

Her aunt, Lindal, refused to even allow her to look at the building as they drove past, and now Marin had been inside and explored.

Marin had completed her first solo Finder’s mission. She had located exactly what Anton needed, and managed to find a crystal of her very own. Not that she believed in crystals and magic. Her aunt had explained how her own ability, to locate the lost or stolen, was the closest thing to real magic left in this world. If Lindal knew that Marin had purchased one of the crystals for herself, her aunt would lose her ever lovin’ mind.

For once in her life, Marin didn’t care. She had felt the heat coming off her crystal, as she held it in her hands. Maybe her aunt was wrong. Maybe the shopkeeper had told the truth, and the fragile but beautiful rock would help Marin to come through her Transition, with more protection and control.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Eep!” Marin barely managed to turn her full throttled scream into a small startled cry. She crashed into the small angry redhead, the one suddenly blocking her path, as she cleared the store exit.

Marin snapped her lips together on the urge to ask her aunt questions. Like where the hell she had come from? Trying not to lean away from the look on Lindal’s face, she waited for the sarcasm and disdain to flow. When Lindal waited, glaring in silence, Marin whispered, “I had to run an errand for Anton.”

Lindal’s face brightened to a nice deep red, as she stood there with her arms crossed, her mouth flattened out in displeasure, and her foot tapping out her impatience. “Don’t lie to me, missy. You work in the office, or at home. You do not run around mingling with charlatans.”

Marin waited, her heart beginning to race. She hated fighting with Lindal, and there was no way that this tirade was over. Lindal did more damage with words than lions fighting over dinner. Marin wanted to be one of those people that could take a browbeating with a grain of salt, but she knew that this time wouldn’t be any easier to take, than the other rants spouted during her twenty-one years of life. Lindal’s personality could be vicious, and hard to take, but Marin didn’t have any other family.

Lindal jabbed her dainty finger at Marin, her words hissed with the pressure of contained rage. “Do you want to die like your mother? Do you enjoy making me worry, and endangering your life like this?”

Marin lowered her head and whispered, “If magic isn’t real, then I should be safe enough. This is the only unscheduled stop I made.”

“Don’t back talk me, girl. Magic is for fools. And places like this are for those too weak to hold on to their money, those willing to purchase lies because they are unhappy with the imperfections they were born with. If your mother had stayed home, she would be alive. Instead she was mugged in some back alley, and left to bleed out with the trash.”

Marin flinched, yet yearned to hear more. It was the most Lindal had ever said about her mother, or the events that had lead to her death. Taking a chance that her aunt would continue sharing, Marin asked, “Is there anyway to be safe?” She wanted to ask more about her mother, but feared that Lindal would clam up if she pushed too directly.

“Listen, and listen good. People, those freaks with meddling gift, can see how weak you are. They are abominations, just like you, but can and will plant thoughts inside your mind, and lead you into danger. Everyone has enhanced senses these days, but you are an oddity. Abnormal, just begging for some fool to believe he can steal your curse, and use it for his own plans, by taking your life. The crap sold in places like this will not give you a shield from the evil in this world.” Lindal had explained many times over the years, that Marin had been born without the natural shield that protected a person’s mind.

“But if there are people that can play tricks, put thoughts in your mind, then maybe there could be some small magic that’s real.”

Placing the bag with her new crystal protectively behind her back, Marin fought not to back away from her aunt. The look in Lindal’s eyes told her plainly, that she had pushed too far. Any sign of weakness would light a match to these attacks. “Tricks. Nothing but tricks. Your mind is just too weak to figure them out.”

Marin ground her teeth together and avoided her aunt’s eyes. Feeling her hands tighten around her gift bag, her eyes sought out the parking lot for anything to distract Lindal. Marin needed something for both of them to focus on, so that she could get her impotent rage under control. Getting defensive never helped. The woman looked weak and innocent, but ruled their home with an iron fist, and razor sharp words.

Instead of continuing to explaining all the reasons that Marin had screwed up, Lindal stiffly turned and walked into the parking lot. Apparently her aunt planned to wait for a private moment, in order to vent the rest of her displeasure. And vent she would. Lindal’s stiff movements, and flushed complexion, warned Marin that the conversation coming her way would be one of the worst.

Marin didn’t need the lecture repeated. She had it memorized. Rocks and stones are just that. Real magic didn’t exist. She needed to stay at home, safe, except for work. Blah … blah … blah. But Marin wanted more information. How did ordinary people put thoughts inside someone else’s mind? How did her co-worker’s little boy manage to move objects out of her reach, when Marin wasn’t looking?

Not knowing what else to do, Marin followed Lindal into the parking lot. Lindal would be in a snit for days.
Marin still couldn’t contain the occasional squeal, though she attempted to keep them as quiet as possible. She needed to get her happiness under control.

Luckily, Marin had the entire length of the parking lot, to calm herself down. The lot seemed to have more cars than the entire area of Ashland, Kentucky had residents. Crystal Sights had managed to expand on the word grand in Grand Opening. Marin didn’t relish Lindal’s anger, but still thought that today had turned out better than she could have hoped. Smiling, she glanced around, as she walked behind her aunt, taking in the different types of shoppers.

Marin watched as three little old ladies, climbed out of a bight yellow caddie, their hair ranging from hooker red to bonnet blue. She saw a younger man pulling his reluctant girlfriend – or possibly wife – from the cab of their truck, her very pregnant belly leading the way. The woman was shaking her head, pointing to the insane number of people, still lining up to enter the store. Marin tried to stop herself from bouncing with every step, not wanting Lindal to see her happiness. This was the closet she had ever come, to attending one of the home town events, thrown every spring. Festivals that would only become larger, when summer finally arrived.

Across the street, by the river, Marin could even see the rides and concession stands, being mobbed by crowds of yet more tri-state citizens. So many different types of people rushing around, laughter in their eyes. Even the pregnant woman had managed a smile, once she made it out of the truck and into the man’s arms.

Every squeak of excitement, that Marin neglected to contain, received a reprimanding glare from Lindal. But Marin was too hopeful, to allow Lindal’s mood to kill her happiness completely. Claudette – the store owner – had called the stone a Maturation Crystal. Marin’s fingers still tingled from when she had touched the crystal earlier, giving her hope for her Transition Birthday. Everyone went through their twenty-first birthday hoping that they would have better control of their enhanced senses. Even if her birthday came and went without an improvement, the crystal marked Marin’s first independent action.

Marin wanted to celebrate, not fight. With that in mind, she put on a burst of speed, passing Lindal, as she said, “Where are you parked, Aunt Lindal?” Marin wanted to get in her car, and head for home, before Lindal decided to start listing more ways, that this trip had been a mistake. An evening alone in her art studio, admiring her Maturation Crystal, sounded like perfection.

Marin crossed her fingers that Lindal wouldn’t be as irate as the time that Anton had encouraged everyone, that worked for Finder’s Keepers, to participate in self-defense classes. Marin had been excited. The free classes took place in the gym, off the back of Finder’s Keepers. As far as bosses went, Anton ranked with the best. He even allowed her to compose her Finds at home, in her private studio. The information she came up with helped other Finders on their missions, and working from home kept Lindal from bitching.

Great work hours or not, Lindal still despised the man. Her sneering had managed to run Marin out of more than one room, when the subject of Antonius Slade came up. Especially after the self-defense debacle. Marin had managed to keep the classes a secret for two years, before Lindal found out. And boy was that memorable.

Lindal had found and burned all of the workout clothes, and the fighting stick, that Marin had stashed in her van. She flinched remembering how the blaze had lit up the front yard, how Lindal’s reddened face seemed to match the flames. Lindal had burned with rage, expressing her displeasure by instituting her own version of self-defense classes. Marin rubbed her sore hip, trying to shake off yesterday’s lesson.

Marin had gained a good ten feet of distance from Lindal, before her aunt decided to reply. Reply and reprimand. “Slow down, child. It is rude to run in public. And I took a taxi, so that we could talk on the ride home. Talk and decide what to do about your current attitude.”

Marin stumbled a little, but otherwise didn’t reply. She absolutely refused to allow anything to put a damper on her spirit. As long as the crystal remained in her possession, she could handle any punishment.

Lindal sneered, as she inquired, “Why in the world did you park so far away?”

Marin slowed and turned to walk backwards. She couldn’t believe that Lindal chose to ask such a question. “I had hoped that by parking as far away as possible, I could avoid the humiliating gymnastics needed to re-enter my vehicle. That woman we passed a second ago? She was actually climbing in through her sun roof. I don’t know if this type of place is always this packed, but if so, they need more parking. I was lucky to find a spot, no matter how far away it is. But I admit that I concentrated on the area to the rear of the parking lot. Everyone fights for the ones closest to the store. I swear that broken down Toyota back there was circling the lot when I first arrived.”

Marin watched, as the poor rusted contraption made it’s rounds. She felt sorry for the car, and the driver. Mostly she felt bad for everyone currently being forced to breathe in the ozone killing balls of smoke, emanating from the Toyota.

“Turn around and walk correctly. They can have our spot … once we get there,” Lindal hissed. Her aunt ignored the opportunity to vent some of her rage on the circling motorist. The parking lot had so many cars, that the grassy incline along the edges had begun to fill up with unrepentant motorist.

Marin turned and quickened her pace, as she yelled, “I’ll just air the car out.” They were almost to Marin’s van, which always smelled of oil based paints and turpentine. Mainly, Marin wanted to put off the fight building with each of Lindal’s hissed and clipped words.

“Don’t turn the car on. You’ll-” Lindal’s words cut off with a squeak of pain.

Marin watched her aunt fly through the air and land with a sickening crunch, on the hood of her van, realizing that the frighteningly loud cry filling the air, was coming from her own mouth. Lindal’s body slide to the ground like a rag doll, a line of blood marking her movements along the bright orange paint.

Mere seconds had passed, but Marin felt like she had been frozen to the spot for hours, consumed by her disbelief.

The sound of squealing tires caught her attention, but Marin stood rooted to the spot and continued to scream.

Eventually, the other sounds in the vast parking lot penetrated her haze. One moment she was happy, watching the dozens of other shoppers laugh and dream, of the wonders to be found on this perfect spring day. Now she watched as the only family she had ever known crashed onto the unforgiving asphalt covered lot. The need to complete a mission, or purchase her own crystal, started to feel pretty hollow.

Forcing her way out of her hysteria, Marin snapped her mouth closed and glanced around as she rushed forward. The Toyota she had pointed out to Lindal was moving in reverse, as she ran for her aunt. No innocent circling for that murderous bastard now.

Marin had looked back to Lindal, when her ears filled with a high pitched ringing. She tried to convince herself that this couldn’t be happening. She knew that POS Toyota was to blame, even without seeing the car ramming into her aunt’s vulnerable body.

Marin reached Lindal’s side, attempting to forget about assholes with toxic road rage, so that she could focus on her aunt. As she fell to her knees, by Lindal’s broken body, she heard an engine being revved. She could smell burning rubber, as she twisted to glance over her shoulder. And a horrible metallic noise rent the air, as the Toyota bounced off the lane of cars, and angled in their direction.

Marin sat slack jawed, as she realized that the man had the balls to make a second attempt. The Toyota was scrapping along the nearby cars, hell bent on committing death by rust bucket. She didn’t know if she was more upset that someone wanted to kill both her and Lindal, or that her van was about to be harmed in the process.

Marin couldn’t move Lindal to safety, and she refused to leave her alone. She glanced frantically around, searching for a miracle. Run down, the car may be, but it was still out of her weight class.

Marin twisted back, to face the oncoming vehicle completely, her hands in the air. A plea for mercy? A supplication or a surrender? Marin didn’t know. Time seemed to slow, as the Toyota came closer. She felt her usually denied emotions rush to the surface; her anger leading the charge. She felt the rage heat along her skin begging to be released.

Standing her ground, Marin remained kneeling by Lindal’s side. A blood curdling scream left her mouth, and she allowed her feelings to come to the surface with destructive force, for the first time in her life. In that moment, Marin felt no fear, no shyness. Just rage. A rage that felt at home and welcoming, as it exploded into the air. Even her confusion and denial – those feeling she felt most at home with – had been buried under this red hot feeling.

A jolt of pain, from some invisible force, threw Marin to the ground. Lying on her back, her head pounding, she felt as if the invisible entity flowed from her body and zeroed in on the offending car. Her skin tingling, Marin watched, through eyes of indignation, as the tires on the right side of the car suddenly left the ground. The Toyota was thrown into the air and onto the tires on its left side. The car slid off course, hitting the vehicles on the opposite side of the lane, and continued to tip, until it was rolling away from Lindal’s defenseless body. Crashing into the cars perched on the grassy incline, at the end of the lot, the Toyota rocked to a stop. It had looked as if like the car had been encased in some kind of protective shield, a wavering bubble of air, as it rolled away from Lindal’s position.

Marin shook her head to dispel the insanity. Shields didn’t work that way. Lindal had explained that a shield was an invisible defense, in the mind, to keep out unwanted thoughts and ideas. She felt the back of her head, wondering how hard she had managed to hit the asphalt. Did she have a concussion?

The Toyota slammed off the cars in the grass, tottering back and forth, finally landing in the correct upward position. Marin didn’t know what had just happened, and right at that moment she didn’t want to know.

She took a second to watch, as the Toyota clipped the back of a few cars, and it miraculously sped away.
The smell of burning rubber and the sound of a hanging bumper, creating sparks along the pavement, were the only proof that this nightmare had ever happened. That and dozens of dented automobiles. The way the Toyota had rolled away from them, as if a giant was playing with his Tonka Trucks, would haunt Marin’s nightmares for a long time. She decided that the entire event needed to be firmly placed in the denial area of her mind, as she moved to check on Lindal, and to call for an ambulance. She needed help, and she needed help now.

Kyland Marcuson’s left eyebrow lifted, as he stood staring in disbelief. Seeing a woman with the power to move a few thousand pounds of metal, or even the brutal act of vehicular homicide, didn’t move him. These acts were common place to those of the Supernatural Community. Even the astounding number of people, exiting their cars and the store, in order to stand around staring, left him unmoved. Supes and Norms alike enjoyed a good train-wreck-worthy incident.

After all this time, he had finally found her. Kyland had searched for Marin for twenty years. He had managed to locate her, only to watch as she fought for her life. Kyland shook his head, and allowed the pull of the woman’s essence to lead him to her side. His Queen had given him this mission, saying only that the child would be the one to save them from the Danshue.

Once the Queen vanished, Kyland had made it his sole purpose in life to locate Marin, a small babe he knew nothing about. The end of his journey, and the child was now a beautiful woman, with more questions surrounding her, than answers. Her blonde hair, big blue eyes, and button nose, gave her a vulnerable look. A look that was obviously a lie.

Kyland also felt surprised at the lust tearing through his system. He was here to protect this woman, not bed her. Still, those curves … Marin had to be more than a foot shorter than his own 6’8’’ height, but she was still built like a dream. A dream he wanted to memorize with hands, and mouth, and tongue. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Kyland continued forward.

People stood on the side lines, watching and waiting; afraid to step forward, to help. Kyland pushed and shoved people out of his way, in order to reach the woman he suspected to be the Marin he had been searching for. When he undertook this mission, more that two decades ago, he was told that the child he needed to find and protect would have no real power. Her biggest gift should have been an overabundance of sensitivity. She should have been as close to powerless as she could get, without being human or a Norm. Apparently, some of the important information had been withheld.

On the other hand, Marin had appeared shocked, as she watched the car’s near miss. Maybe she didn’t understand her abilities, abilities that she should be lacking. Kyland could see a slight refusal in her eyes even now, to believe the reality she now found herself in. He had watched as, with the shake of her head, Marin physically pushed away her confusion.

Kyland was close enough now to feel her denial coming from her psyche in waves. Her emotions were so strong, he could barely focus on anything else. He could also see that the Queen had left out a thing or two about the child’s identity, as they discussed this mission.

Damn, damn, damn. Right now Kyland needed to check on Marin, and the woman lying at her side. But he needed to move forward carefully. He didn’t wish to frighten the young woman, especially after she had been traumatized. He needed to save her friend, if at all possible, and slowly build a connection, a bond of trust. If this was the correct person, then … then the future of his people would depend on her. He didn’t understand, not completely, but the Queen had given him a name, a location, and a time frame. He needed to find Marin, somewhere within Earth-side, before her Transition.

Well, if this was Marin, he had the woman/child; he was in Kentucky, so he was Earth-side, just like the Queen’s prophecy; the time frame was the remaining key. Kyland had less than a month left to complete the first step. Hopefully, the rest would fall into place, and by the end of the year, the Queen would be returned.

Kyland had spent the last two decades learning every new medical procedure, medical aid techniques of any discipline, as they were improved on. The Marin he was sent to retrieve had been kidnaped, and kidnap victims were rarely treated well. Why else would she be stolen at birth, unless it was to harvest her power? Supe children could be used as batteries, for the sadistic and depraved. Evil men and women, or Danshue, that seek power above all else and are willing to do anything to obtain it.

Dropping to his knees, Kyland could see that the woman on the ground didn’t appear to be breathing. Time was short, but still he approached slowly. Perhaps the surrounding crowd of useless onlookers had the right idea. If he was correct, the beautiful blonde could toss him across the parking lot, if he surprised her.

“Do you need help?” Kyland slowly checked Marin’s friend for vitals, before tilting the head, to begin CPR. The woman he worked on was extremely small, broken and bleeding. Her flaming red hair seemed familiar, but Kyland couldn’t worry about his patients identity. Not with a confused and wary Marin, watching his every move.

“Please … I don’t know … what to do … I can’t …” Marin didn’t know if she should trust this stranger, this mouth watering man, but she needed help. Lindal needed help. She had already called 911 and told the operator what she could, but now her phone had disappeared. The best Finder the U.S. could offer, and she couldn’t even locate her own cell phone. She held her hand near the side of her aunt’s face, afraid to touch … Didn’t the people in movies always stay on the phone, when they called 911? She needed her phone. What was she- How could she-

Marin couldn’t breathe. She was screwing up. Lindal was hurt. She should have told the operator more. Couldn’t. Breathe.

“Don’t worry. Just take a calming breathe and work with me. I need you to stabilize her head for me. My name is Kyland, by the way, and I will do what I can to help, if you will let me.” Kyland took her hand and it was suddenly easier to breathe. “Can you do that?”

Kyland had a manly beauty, one that sculptors would kill to etch. She found it hard not to stare at Mister Tall, Dark, and Handsome; her eyes continually jumping back to outline his features, even in the midst of her worry. He had to be nearly seven feet tall, and his eyes gleamed like flecks of coal.

When Kyland leaned forward, to recheck Lindal for breath, Marin could see that his eyes were actually an extremely dark gray. His hair fell in a wave of black silk, to his shoulders, and his muscles looked edible in a glowing reddish brown tone.

Kyland had one of those year round natural tans, that women the world over dreamed of. Marin would have assumed a Native American background, but there was just something more, something different, about him.

Marin gave herself a mental shake, to push his looks from her mind, and focused on the woman that had raised her. She would do anything and everything asked of her. She would follow Kyland’s lead and hope for the best.

Nodding her head rapidly, Marin moved to Lindal’s head to do as indicated. She had a purpose. The ambulance was coming, and Kyland would help Lindal until they arrived.

Marin hated the way that Lindal treated her, but she wanted distance and independence, not this. This couldn’t be happening. What if she lost the only family she-

Just as the panic started to take over again, Marin felt someone squeezing her hand. Kyland gave her comfort, as his other hand checked for a pulse.

As the blonde did as instructed, Kyland continued compressions. He couldn’t think of her as Marin, not yet. There had to be another reason for her to look- Kyland took a deep breath, in order to focus on the here and now. He had cleared his patient’s airway, while sending a healing spell into her body. It would help, but weather it would be enough or not, he didn’t know. He had to get her breathing again, if he hoped to save her.

Kyland had done two sets of compressions, and was bending to blow air into his patient’s lung, when the woman took a deep breath on her own. Her eyes snapped open. Eyes that he knew, hated, and could never forget.

“You-” The word slipped out of his mouth, before Kyland could think about stopping himself. He barely managed to cut off his words, before a barrage of her suspected crimes left his mouth.

Well damn. Kyland hadn’t recognized the injured woman with her eyes shut, but he should have. The wrinkles were obviously an illusion, but the fire engine red hair, the small stature … and now, those liquid green eyes couldn’t be denied. Only one person had eyes the shade of mixed 184mercury and vibrant new grass.

Lindal Rencoff. Murder, treason, the thief of power by painful means … the list of her suspected crimes went on and on. Lindal needed to be tried for crimes against the Queen and Fae alike, for being Danshue – a fae willing to lose their soul in exchange for stolen power.

The Queen definitely hadn’t informed him that he would find the woman/child that he was looking for with the traitor Lindal Rencoff. What the hell was going on here? His mouth turned down, Kyland had to fight the urge to wrap his hands around Lindal’s neck.

Every Supe in the Supernatural Community believed that Lindal had been cut down, marked as one of the dead or missing, in the last great war. Instead, she hid among a bunch of humans, with her kidnap victim, a woman the Fae people desperately needed. He roughly ran his hands over his face, and looked to the heavens for some kind of sign.

Kyland’s gaze darted around, to locate any other enemies, but found only curious onlookers, and banged up cars and trucks. He took a moment to decide if he should call in back up or not, as his gaze went back to Marin. Why had he been sent alone on this mission?

To answer that, he first needed to answer one every important question. Did the Queen fear her own people?
The fact that Kyland had been sent on his own, to retrieve someone that deserved an armed escort, was pretty much answer enough. Had the Queen foreseen that she and her entire house would be cursed, and hidden from the rest of the Fae, from the entire Supernatural Community, never to be seen again?

Kyland had been sent alone on this mission, and he had nearly failed. Watching the car closing in, he had known that he would not make it in time. Even moving out of phase – as one with the shadows – Kyland would have been too late. None of his personal magic could have stopped the car from taking the life of the woman he could fell calling out to his essence. He had spent over two decades in search of a poor defenseless child in need of protection, only to find that Marin had the ability to save herself.

The car had been pushed and flipped, as if unseen forces had been displeased. If it hadn’t been for his ability to sense the magic being used, he might have believed the unseen forces theory. After all, he had been told that Marin couldn’t reach, or use, her gifts yet. Damnit. If the power he had felt represented Marin’s untapped gifts, they would all be in a world of trouble if he couldn’t find a way to ease Marin’s power slowly past the whatever had them blocked.

If Marin’s gifts exploded from their containment all at once … more than just her psyche and body were in danger. It would be like the magical version of an atomic bomb. Kyland had less than a month, but eventually time would run out. The block had to be placed over Marin’s psyche, her power. A block Marin’s power had managed to break through, like it was child’s play, only to completely disappear once the danger was past.
Yep. Kyland was in deep, and all out of paddles. This mission became more important with every passing second.

Chapter Two

Her perfect crystal now protected the parking lot of Crystal Sights; Lindal was in surgery fighting for her life; and Marin gazed blankly at the ugliest green wall paper, she had ever seen. Hospital waiting rooms shouldn’t remind a person of moldy vomit. They should be peaceful and comforting. Reminders of the split pea soup incident from the Exorcist was neither peaceful nor comforting. Even a stark white would be more pleasant that the current color palate.

Marin feared that the need to scream and never stop, would finally win out. She wanted answers, while also wanting to forget, but right this second she wanted a nice friendly coat of paint. It would give her mind
something to focus on, while she waited for the doctors to fix her aunt.

Body shaking like she needed a large hit of Meth, Marin pulled her knees up against her chest and rocked quietly in her less than comfortable chair. She glared at one of the chipped areas of vomit-itis paint. It had been hours of waiting with only her headache, stale coffee, and these horrendous walls to keep her company. Everyone else in the room had managed to fade into the background, her mind uninterested in their presence.

The door to the waiting room opened, causing Marin to glare in that direction. A man in hospital scrubs searched the room for someone. His mouth moving. Not that Marin could hear anything over the pounding in her head, that caused her ears to ring. The name tag proclaimed that this was Dr. Criss. He had a nice looking mouth, but the rest of his features remained out of focus.

Marin counted the handful of people waiting for news, shocked to realized that the room held a deep well of silence. Surely there should be something to hear. The quiet murmur of loved ones consoling each other, the drone of the television, or even the gurgle of the coffee pot … but Marin caught nothing like that. She couldn’t even remember if the room had been so full, when she first arrived.

The doctor looked straight at Marin, and walked in her direction with purpose in his posture, and compassion on his face. Was he speaking to her? Her feet dropped to the floor at the same time that her gaze sought out anyone else sitting near by, that could be his intended target. The warring emotions, to get answers and to deny that any of this was real, fought for supremacy.

Marin examined the people sharing the room with her closer. An elderly woman with two small children, sitting to her left, worked to console her youngest child. No more than two, her little face contorted in distress and hopeless anguish, as she sat clinging to her grandmother. Tears ran down her little rounded cheeks. Her face red and body shaking, the child ignored modern rules of society, and expressed her pain the only way that she knew how. It looked almost freeing. And still she heard nothing.

Marin could see a man on a pay phone, another man holding a softly crying woman, and a few teens. But not a single sound managed to accompany their actions. Her eyes took in the expressions of pain and sadness, but her mind refused to allow her to hear their distress. That seemed wrong.

The doctor had nearly reached her side. Marin couldn’t see that as a positive sign. The paramedics had told her that things looked good, the beautiful stranger had promised everything would be fine and then he had disappeared, and Lindal’s breathing had seemed even and controlled when they pulled up to the emergency room doors. Marin just couldn’t see how anything good could come from five hours of uncertainty after all the positive lies.

The doctor stopped in front of her seat. His lips were still moving. Maybe he had a tick or something.

Marin fought the need to smile. The doctor’s brow crinkled, and he reached out to touch her face. Grasping her chin, he turned her head up, but when he moved closer, to look into her eyes, Marin jolted from the chair.

The world was suddenly rent by a mournful cry, a cry that only the young could dare make. Not yet fearful of what others will think, a child will throw her head back, and shriek her pain to the heavens. Marin wanted that freedom. The little girl with the head full of auburn curls, and the extremely healthy lungs, continued to cling to her grandmother. Her pain the first sound to shatter the unnatural silence of the waiting room.
The silence hadn’t been that bad, in a way. Marin preferred the denial.

“Miss Yarthine?” the doctor asked.

Damnit. Marin finally made eye contact with the doctor. She needed to do better. She needed to focus, before she ended up with her very own hospital gown.

Afraid to speak, Marin just continued to stare. Wanting to release her own cathartic wails, she wrapped her arms protectively around her body, and managed a small nod. She felt something touch her shoulder and glanced back in the doctors direction, not remembering when she had turned away. This had to be shock. There was a constant buzz emanating from her temples, and that couldn’t be good either.

Marin’s head felt like a stranger. She could feel this ticking beat, as if her heart had managed to make the climb in to her head. The buzz in her head kept changing. Sometimes, she felt like she had a few bees in residence, and at others she just knew that an angry band had taken to using the space between her ears for practice.

Did that mean she was in shock? Or maybe Marin had managed to hit her head harder than she realized. Someone had checked her out. She remembered-

Smiling kindly and reclaiming her attention, the doctor said, “Your aunt is unconscious at the moment. She hasn’t woken yet so we’re keeping her in the ICU. At least until she wakes. Visiting hours are over until tomorrow afternoon, but I think we can let you can back to see her for a few minutes. Her brain received quite a trauma. All her other injuries appear stable for now, but the brain … we really can’t know more until she’s conscious.”

Marin didn’t know what to say. Her head bowed, and she covered her mouth with a shaking hand. Her knees wanted to buckle. She felt weak as the weight of so much worry lightened. With a barely repressed sob, Marin managed to choke out, “Thank you.” The news wasn’t perfect, but at least her aunt was still alive.

The doctor turned to leave, and Marin followed him and a nurse-type person that had managed to go unnoticed. Somehow managing to find the strength to make her legs steady, as they went down the hall, Marin couldn’t help but feel impatient. She wanted to run, to see Lindal with her own eyes.

Maybe if Marin held Lindal’s hand, felt her precious warmth- Who was she kidding? Marin needed her aunt to open her eyes, and give one of those frosty glares that she had perfected over the years.

Marin’s hand flew up to catch an inappropriate giggle, and the buzzing in her temple started pulsating to a rhythm, but she didn’t care. She needed proof that Lindal was still alive, that her only family member would continue to make her life miserable.

The small room they finally stopped at, sat behind a glass wall, the privacy curtain only partially closed, so that the end of the bed could be clearly seen from outside. The crash cart sitting within easy reach of the door, left a less than comforting ache in Marin’s chest. The sooner Lindal could be moved to a less threatening room, the better.

“Ten minutes. But then you’ll need to come back during visiting hours,” the nurse explained in a firm, but sympathetic voice. The doctor had already disappeared.

Marin could barely hear the nurse’s words, over the sounds of the ventilator and other life supporting machines. She seemed kind enough, but right at that moment Marin wanted to be alone. Seeming to understand, the nurse gave her another sympathetic look, and left Marin to peek around the curtain by herself.

Lindal’s small form, lying quietly in the midst of tubes and wires, barely filled half of the twin-size hospital bed. Her aunt had always been small, barely taller than Marin’s own five-foot-two-inches. In the hospital bed, the force that naturally radiated off Lindal’s every movement became subdued, and her strong personality lessened. Her aunt look abnormally vulnerable.

Rubbing her arms, Marin wanted to take a step away from the unreal sight, instead she forced her hands to tightly grip the foot board. She had come so close to losing Lindal.

The paramedics had arrived quickly, but they never would have made it in time. Marin wasn’t stupid. Lindal hadn’t been breathing, and that had meant one thing, and one thing only. Lindal had died. With only Marin to help her, she would have stayed that way. Stranger or not, Kyland had saved Lindal’s life.

Kyland had come out of no where, and disappeared the same way. Marin shook her head, doubting that she would ever be able to find him, to thank him. On the one hand, some unnamed tension left her body at the thought that she would never have to face him again. Face the emotions he stirred. Still, his absence left a hole in her heart, and a choking thickness in her throat. Which made absolutely no sense. Marin knew nothing about this man. How did he cause confusion strong enough to overwhelm her mind. Confusion, evil confusion. Marin shook her head. The who and where of Kyland were problems for another day. Right now she needed to focus on Lindal.

Marin needed answers. Like why had they been targeted? The parking lot didn’t exactly come up lacking, when it came to vehicular violence victim contenders. There had been a group of at least four women, standing by their cars, chatting. If there was a target more deserving of vehicular rage, it had definitely that group of women. They had finished shopping, and courtesy demanded that their parking spots were to be relinquished as soon as possible. Why not them?

The man – and Marin was only guessing that the driver was a man – had bypassed those without parking lot etiquette and zeroed in on Lindal. If she had continued her slow progress through the parking lot, would Marin be in this horrible room with it’s beeping monitors, bleached air, and sense of waiting, instead of Lindal.

Staring down at her aunt’s unmoving form, Marin tried to find a place to rest her hand. She needed to touch her. She needed to know that the only person willing to take her in, after the death of her mother, was really here and still alive.

“They will find him, Lindal. He won’t get away with this,” Marin made her vow as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb Lindal’s recovery.

Glancing up to keep tears from falling from her eyes, Marin noticed something swinging off of Lindal’s oxygen line. “What the-” It looked like a BARBIE with wings, perhaps six inches tall. The odd little creature wore a loin cloth and sported some overly obvious male attributes. Was it wrong to be checking out the abs of someone no larger than a child’s toy?

His arms tugged and his muscles bunched, as he attempted to make a knot in Lindal’s oxygen line. His silver skin tone went beautifully with his tri-colored wings – a mix of beige, maroon, and gold. The little man didn’t seem to realize that Marin was staring at him.

“Stop,” Marin shouted. Damn-it, this was a hospital. She needed to lower her voice. She also needed to go up stairs to the psych ward. Head trauma, shock, or hallucinations … something wasn’t right. If she told Lindal about this, her aunt would call her every kind of fool.

Hallucination or not, she grabbed the little man by the wings, pulled him from Lindal’s oxygen line, and tried to speak more calmly. “What do you think you’re doing?”

She finally had her figments attention. A striking, though small, pair of lavender eyes glared at her through overly long sandy brown bangs. On closer inspection, she could see that his hair was actually multicolored. It seemed to go from crystal white sand to bronzed gold.

“Well, answer me. What do you think you’re doing?”

“Waiting for you, of course.”

“What are you?” She was losing it. The buzzing in her temples was increasing. And she was now speaking with a figment of her imagination. Yep. She needed medicated.

The creature put its tiny fists on narrow hips. “A Sprite, of course. Don’t you know anything? I have my work cut out for me.” Now she was being insulted by her imagination. Great.

“Nope. Too Much,” Marin said, and tossed the little man out of the hospital window. She needed coffee. Either that or a large dose of Thorazine.

Chapter Three

The smell reached her first. Marin tried not to gag, quickly covering her mouth with her hand as she glanced around the quiet street, trying to pinpoint the source of the foul stench polluting her air supply. She had never been subjected to anything so horrible in her life. The strength of the odor nearly knocked her off her feet, meaning that the source had to be close.

Behind her, Marin could see the café that she had just left, and little else. A thrift shop and a dollar store stood a few blocks further down the street. If the smell had come from one of those buildings, she would have noticed sooner. The aroma in the café had been wonderful and it had taken over a block before the air around her had lost its caffeinated buzz. Marin was considering turning back and returning to the smell of baked bread and roasted coffee beans, just to escape the repulsive smell.

To her left and right, she saw little shops selling antiques. A few mom and pop stores that were already closed for the night, filled in the rest. And the sound of frog mating came from every direction. Marin should have been surrounded by the smell of honeysuckle, not sewage.

Honeysuckle grew more rampant than most weeds, but the smell brightened a Kentucky night in spring. Or it should have.

Nothing around Marin appeared capable of creating the current stench. The hospital sat in front of her, a few blocks away, but that couldn’t be it. Surely the EPA would have issued a warning by now, if a medical facility randomly produced toxic gas. That only left the kids she watched coming around the corner, between her position and the hospital’s front doors.

A small group of kids turned and headed Marin’s way. Cocking her head to the side, she wondered what they were doing out so late. And not a pair of shoes between them. Odd. Oh, Marin had noticed that people took the returning of hot weather as an excuse to leave their footwear behind, but that was in their own yards. Children did not run barefoot, while roaming downtown Ashland.

Marin cringed, thinking that if they were the cause of the revolting odor, then their parents needed to be shot. Her kinder side wanted to warn the kids, scream at them to run in the other direction, as fast as possible. Especially as the horrible stench continued to grow in strength. Marin could see the headlines now … “Small town overwhelmed by invisible toxic waste. At least six dead.”

Perhaps the kids didn’t notice, but Marin’s overly sensitive nose screamed in pain. She brought her coffee closer to her nose, but didn’t drink. Adding anything to her stomach at this point seemed like an unnecessary risk. Enhanced senses weren’t uncommon. Still, true enhancement was rare enough that most people kept the strength of their senses quiet. Being born without an enhancement meant that you ran the risk of being called plain or average. People like Marin with more than one enhanced sense were considered freaks. But even with her steaming drink pressed close to her face, she felt overwhelmed by the attacking odor.

The café made the best Latte in three states. The person responsible for ruining her beverage, owed Marin a serious apology. Lowering her head, she tried to block out the air born sewage with delicious Latte, wishing that she could rewind to this morning. What good did seeking out a mission to complete, and a birthday gift, really do? She had lost the crystal and could still lose her aunt. This day couldn’t have been worse. The sooner she reached the hospital and it’s bleached halls the better.

Marin suddenly found herself face down on the ground, instead of inhaling her drink and rushing toward the hospital. Her wonderful smelling, yet ridiculously hot beverage had thankfully been thrown away from her body. She rolled over to find herself surrounded by five of the ugliest kids she had ever seen. Their arms were too long, or at least longer than normal, and their legs seemed too short for their bodies. Their ears were large and slightly floppy. The varying degrees of red in their rather large eyes, had to be from contacts. It was not a natural eye shade. And each nose she glanced at seemed to be larger than the last.
Marin ground out, “What the hell?”

Ugly or not, one of these little shits had tripped her. Marin had also located the source of the unholy odor. One or all of their parents needed to be charged with crimes against humanity, and punished for not hosing the little monsters down once in a while. Marin swallowed, did her best to breathe through her mouth, and tried to keep from throwing up. She could only hope that her sense of smell began to fail sometime soon.

Ignoring the children, Marin tried to get to her feet with some dignity. She needed out of the day that would not end. Being picked on by a group of adolescent terrors, had her flinching at how she ranked in the world.

One of the demon children got a firm hold on Marin’s ankle, and tossed her through the air. Okay. So maybe these weren’t children. Unless the local elementary had a problem with steroid usage, Marin felt safe in the assumption that these were not your average twelve year old boys.

The air left her lungs in a rush, as Marin landed with jarring force. Refusing to take in any more of the vile air, she began begging for unconsciousness, just to escape the gag factor.

Finally gasping for any oxygen she could find, Marin tried to figure out what she had slammed into. She knew that bruises were beginning to form, and that something wet ran down her temple. A temple that had exploded into a riot of sound. The buzzing had morphed into an angry rock band persona, and seemed to want out of her mind, as if it could manifest and subdue her angry half-pint attackers.

Lying on a small patch of grass, off the beaten path and unlikely to be seen, Marin did her best to ignore her pounding head and aching body, in order to focus on her assailants. Anton’s free self-defense classes, plus the daily embarrassments from losing to Lindal, flew through her mind. She quickly rolled into a crouch, knowing that the martial arts teacher that Anton had hired would be very disappointed, if he could see her now. Sensei Liu Kuan’s favorite phrase had always been, “Anyone can be a threat.” Staring at five volcanic midgets, she finally understood.

Marin waited for their next move. She noticed that aside from the two carrying batons, that had come out of nowhere, one had a knife. An extremely large knife. The last two didn’t seem to have any weapons. Maybe they would kill her old school, and just beat her to death. Or maybe they were just here as an audience. Like any good blood spot, they were going to watch her get her ass kicked.

The one with the knife came at Marin first. As she dove out of the way, she felt the knife nick her shoulder, having barely missed her neck.

One of the unholy terrors broke the unnatural silence with a hissing snicker. Marin continued to roll, moving in the direction of the baton brothers, hoping to knock one of them to the ground and earn a weapon for her trouble.

As she rolled into a crouch and launched herself at the feet of one of the baton carrying bastards, Marin felt long denied emotions heating her blood, and tingling along her skin. Rage strong enough to take on a life of it’s own, allowed her to forget that her attackers looked like helpless minors. In that moment, Marin wanted to lash out with the intent to do permanent harm. A quiet rage, came out of nowhere, sudden and strong. She sucked in some of the foul oxygen. She was pissed.

A baton came down, barely missing Marin as she quickly rolled away and lashed out with her foot, with all her mite. She heard a satisfying pop and the ugly little man – no way was this a child – let out a high pitched screech, grabbed for his destroyed knee cap, and collapsed to the ground. She continued to tell herself that she didn’t face children, as she snatched up his dropped weapon. It was that or let herself be murdered.

Keeping her body low and loose, she waited for the next attack. She now had one of their batons and four short but freakishly strong attackers to deal with. With a cry of fury, she swung for another set of knees.

Out of the corner of her eye, Marin saw the knife coming her way, but she had already committed to her swing. All her focus was on knee-capping the second baton wielder. These bastards should at least come at her one at a time.

Marin barely felt the pain of the knife cutting across her right side, as she allowed the momentum of taking out the second baton wielder’s knees, to take her into another roll. Baton brothers one and two were now disarmed and moaning with their ruined knees, as the one with the knife came in for another pass.

Marin was getting sick and tired of losing blood. The cutting had to go. At this rate, the guy would eventually succeed in slitting her throat.

Focusing on the knife heading for her neck once again, Marin forgot about everyone else and aimed her baton at the wrist joint. By the scream of pain reverberating along the street, she could tell that her strike was unexpected but successful. If she lived through this, she would have to thank Sensei Liu for the exercises dedicated to joint weaknesses.

Marin could admit that she regularly went unnoticed and underestimated, but these guys should be taking her more seriously. Especially if they planned to kill her. It was only polite. She had always been faster and stronger than most women her size. At 5’2”, Marin’s height was considered below average for a woman, amd her slender frame made her appear so much smaller. Most days she even felt vulnerable. But for the first time in her life, she didn’t. She felt powerful. She felt not only that she could, but that would, use all those hours of martial arts to defend herself.

Having lost his knife, the third guy cradled his wrist and backed away. Marin turned only enough to be able to focus on the remaining men, while still keeping her downed attackers in the corner of her eye. She hoped that the baton would give her the slight edge she needed.

“Well, damn,” Marin hissed.

The last two men were no longer unarmed. Carrying what appeared to be stone clubs that had to weigh at least a few tons each, the last two guys moved together like a pair of evil ugly-assed twins. Marin knew she should have stolen the last guy’s knife. How the hell were they even picking those things up?

Her body tense, Marin’s gaze searched for a distraction, anything to scare them off. That’s when she saw him. Lindal’s savior from earlier popped out of nowhere, running toward the fight. Smiling, she knew that Kyland would be too late. By the time he reached her, she would no longer need the help. Two stone clubs were zeroing in on her body. It was going to be impossible, to avoid them both.

Choosing to focus on the twin to the right, Marin made her move. Throwing up her left arm as a block, she turned slightly and jabbed her baton into the groin, of her target. Picturing the baton going through the groin and coming out the other side, Marin made sure to grunt just as she had been taught in class.

She pushed to her feet as her jab connected, giving it as much force as possible. The man from the right fell to his knees, his mouth open in a silent scream of agony. His swing lost most of it’s force but still connected with her thigh, before he abandoned the fight and doubled over in defeat.

“Son of a-” Marin couldn’t finish her expletive.

The man from her left made up for his twin’s less powerful swing, with a blow that would have taken off her head if Marin hadn’t pushed to her feet, while jabbing the other guy in the groin. The stone club slammed into her chest with the force of a freight train. She flew backward into the man with the damaged wrist.
With a grunt of surprise, the previous knife wielder pushed her toward the feet of one of his friends. By now she really didn’t care which bastard was which, if she had the energy, she would crush them all. Or try.

The last thing she saw as someone’s leg pulled back for a vicious kick aimed at her skull was her savior. She could see that Kyland had found what appeared to be a short sword.

Having lost her baton, she threw up her arm in hopes that it would protect her head, and silently wished Kyland luck. Marin hoped that those stone clubs didn’t crush his sword too quickly.

Refusing to go out like the weak kitten she normally felt like, Marin decided to go for the ankle, when her retched smelling attacker tried to punt her head like a football. Gritting her teeth, she held tight to the large rock jabbing into the side of her hip. Moving as quickly as possible, she threw her arm into the move. The rock strengthened the force of her swing. She moved quickly but not quickly enough.

Marin could hear fighting and grunts of pain, as the foot made contact with her head. The world around her darkened. She allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction, as she finally gave in. She had seen the look on Kyland’s face. These four foot fecal drops were in for a world of hurt. She really hated to miss the show.

The muscles along Kyland’s jaw stayed clenched, as his sword sang through the air, and smoothly separated the last gremlin’s head from his body. Messy business, taking heads, but he had never found a cleaner way to dispatch the smelly little buggers.

Marin remained unconscious and under one of his healing spells, giving Kyland the time he needed to dispose of the bodies. Normally he’d let the Fae Courts decide what to do with the remains, but urgency demanded he move quickly. That meant that he couldn’t wait around for the Earth-side Fae authorities.

Shaking out his clenched hands, Kyland piled the bodies and quickly worked an immolation spell, the flames hot enough to turn bone to ash. Every piece of the existence of the Fae bodies needed to be eradicated. Every Supe child had the laws of secrecy drummed into their minds every day of their lives. The most important of the Queen’s Laws, even after her disappearance.

Twice now, Kyland had almost failed to protect Marin. She had been holding her own at first against the Gremlins, but five more seconds and she would have … He should have killed them slowly.

The small hits acquired in the fight began to ache, but Kyland’s night wasn’t over. Cracking his neck, he gathered up Marin and faded out of phase, traveling at a faster than normal pace. His hands held Marin close as he made his way to his rental – a horrible machine that he hated being stuck inside of.

The tension in Kyland’s neck increased. He placed Marin in the back of the car, before squeezing into the driver’s seat. Why, oh why, couldn’t the rental place have something other than a compact.

Throwing the car into drive, Kyland somehow managed to clip one of the neighboring vehicles, as he pulled his foot off the break peddle, barely tapped the gas. He wanted to glance in the rearview mirror to check on Marin, but thought better of the idea. Every time he turned his head, the car felt the need to go in that direction. He needed to find someone to help protect Marin … someone that could drive.

His mind started reviewing the two attacks, clearly of Danshue origin. That their hunt had begun before Kyland had managed to locate Marin, worried him; the fact that he should have felt a more urgent pull to protect Marin, worried him even more. The blood oath that he had cast, should have made it impossible to be away from her side, while her future was in danger. Constant Danshue attacks constituted danger to Kyland. And the greater the danger, the tighter the bond should have been.

Maybe it was the disbelief of watching Marin first freeze, and then fling, her guide Sprite around, that caused Kyland to miss the signs of an approaching threat. Okay … maybe he was too busy laughing. The look of denial in Marin’s eyes had been so cute; Kyland had forced himself to step away, before he allowed himself to taste her lush mouth. One kiss would never be enough, and a hospital held no romance, when it came to seduction opportunities. Besides, he refused to get distracted from his mission, by becoming involved with the woman he needed to protect.

Kyland had hidden in the waiting room, as he attempted to figure out what he had seen in Lindal’s ICU room. Magic, of any kind, doesn’t work on Sprite folk. He had stepped away for no more than ten minutes, and Marin had managed to leave the hospital and lose him.

The pull of the blood oath was obviously on the fritz, working one minute and silent the next. The most likely reason for the disconnect, was more than likely Marin. More to the point, the blocking spells, he could feel circling her entire essence, had to be interfering with his connection to her. Kyland could feel Marin’s magic, her soul, her entire being blocked from her psyche, the source of her magic. The blood oath’s short circuit, as well as the reason it had taken him so long to locate her, had to be connected to the blocking spells.

Well, he’d finally found her. Now Kyland just needed to keep Marin alive. Somehow.

Chapter Four

The incessant banging had Marin one noise away from tears. The sound had to be worse than a two-year-old, with their first drum set; constant and without any discernible rhythm. Her low and pitiful moan only added to her pain. Each and every sound just piled on top of the painful banging; the banging taking root inside of her temples. She could live with the buzzing, but this off beat band noise had to go.

“Oww,” Marin whispered, wincing at her ability to speak. Being mute sounded like a very good idea at the moment.

Opening her eyes, she received both good news and bad. The cheap motel decor, and her beaten and bruised flesh, said that she still lived. To make matters worse, Marin realized that one of those scratchy motel comforters covered her aching body, and nothing more.

The window’s heating unit, loudly worked to keep the room nice and warm. The overwhelming sound made Marin rethink her stance on heat stroke. Did she really care if she slept in a puddle of sweat? Did she really care if she needed to wring out her hair every few minutes? She could learn to keep the dripping out of her eyes, if someone would just stop the incessant noise. She already had enough going on in her head, thank you very much.

The light fixture, if you could call it that, consisted of one extremely bright bare bulb and nothing more. The air smelled like pine sol and sweat, which was a step up from the reek of the sewage boys. The bathroom door had at least one hinge missing, the carpet sported a sickly shag green color, and the ceiling had water marks on top of water marks. Marin couldn’t see the other half of the room without rolling over, a thought that had her cringing despite the pain it caused.

Marin remembered one of the poster boys for pollution pulling back his leg, to use her head, in order to recreate the proper way to score a field goal. Everything else, like how she got to this crappy motel bed or how she lost her cloths, seemed to be lost in a void of inky blackness.

Licking suddenly dry lips, Marin attempted to ignore the quiver of unease building in her stomach. She was fine and any moment now she would remember all the important facts. Like how did she get here, where had her attackers gone, and most importantly… Where were her freaking clothes?

One step at a time, Marin decided to check the damage to her body, before turning to check out the rest of the room. “Holy hell,” she couldn’t help but whisper, as she peeked beneath the comforter and saw the amazing array of colors, currently decorating her skin.

“Good. You are awake. I was beginning to worry.” A low soothing voice filled the air. But not soothing enough for Marin’s peace of mind.

Marin released a slightly undignified yelp, which only added to the Mariachi band in her head. Quickly pulling the comforter back into place, she clutched the thin barrier to her chest with one hand. Gritting her teeth, Mairn covered her eyes to block the light from the side lamp, as it flared to life. The thing appeared ten times brighter than the ceiling fixture.

“How do you feel?” the musical voice came again.

Marin shut her eyes tightly, and refused to answer. Ignoring her current state sounded like an excellent idea. Going back to sleep and pretending that this day was nothing more than some horrible nightmare, sounded even better.

Apparently, unwilling to wait for her to collect her thoughts, that deliciously deep voice moved closer, and for some reason he wanted more than a face to face conversation. The tugging on her comforter had Marin wide eyed and ready to talk, or more accurately … scream.

“What the hell? Stop that,” Marin shrieked. Grabbing for the horribly thin comforter but making no progress, she demanded, “Is there a reason you’re uncovering me? And where are my clothes?”

“Yes.” That’s all he had to say for himself? Yes? He started running his hands over her exposed flesh. What the hell? He really needed to give more of an answer than Yes, and he seriously needed to stop all the touching.

“What in the hell are you doing?” Marin slapped at his hands and attempted to retrieve her blanket.

“I need to make sure I did not miss any wounds earlier. I had to stitch two of the deeper cuts, but I did not want to move you around too much, once your natural healing kicked in. I was not sure how quickly you could heal with your power still blocked, so I closed the open wounds myself. But the stitches already need to come out. The wound along your chest is slightly red. You will need this ointment in case of infection.”

He was already removing the stitches. Marin let her eyes close to stop herself from staring in shock, and embarrassment. She was sitting here in her birthday suit, allowing this man access to her body, but then, she didn’t know anything about removing stitches.

Marin wasn’t shy about her body, but there was a time and a place, and she didn’t know anything about … “My name is Kyland Marcuson.” Well, that was a start. At least now she had his full name for the police report. “And I have vowed to protect your future.” And back to the land of the unclear, not to mention insane.

“What does that mean, you’re … hey now-” Marin lost her train of thought, busy slapping away his hands again. Really? She was pretty sure that she didn’t need a breast exam. And that had felt way to good for her piece of mind. Jerking the ointment out of his hands, she pulled the comforter back into place. Her eyes cold and hard, Marin could feel the blood in her body beginning to boil, as she hissed, “I’m good here. Hands to yourself.”

Marin found herself frowning, as she shook her head in an attempt to catch her train of thought. “What does that mean? Protect my future?”

“I took a blood oath with your essence linked to it. Now I am bound to protect your future, as if it were my own. And in a way it is,” Kyland explained.

Why were all the good looking ones crazy? Marin leaned as far away as she could. “Uh-huh. We’re connected.” Shaking her head, she added, “Let’s focus on the present for now. What happened to the garbage pail kids?”
She rubbed the back of her neck and tried to move the conversation to something important. At his confused look, she let out a heavy sigh and asked, “Not from around here, are you?”

“I am from Out-realm. I have not been Earth-side, off and on, since the 1800’s. I have been bouncing between here and the different realms, for the last twenty years in search of you. I knew that I would eventually find you Earth-side, but returned home from time to time, in an attempt to gain more information on your origins.”

Yep. Crazy as a loon. Wincing, a pained expression drew her mouth into a flat line, just considering such a travesty.

“I’ll let all that go, since you saved my life. But I really must be leaving,” Marin said, as politely as possible. It was never a good idea to argue with the mentally insane.

Sighing, Marin knew that getting any answer out of Kyland, that didn’t freak her out or confuse the hell out of her, would be impossible. She moved to turn away from the crazy, yet exceptionally put together man, trying to locate her clothes, while still keeping him in the corner of her eye.

What could possibly go wrong next? Car wrecks, hallucinations, toxic-stench laced attackers, and now … insanity from the beautiful. Come, drink the kool-aid … everybody’s doing it. If Marin wasn’t in need of caffeine before, she now required some in the form of an IV drip.

“And you are Marin de Platadreki.”

Marin cocked her head to the side but kept her gaze averted, as she continued to search for her clothes. At least he knew half of her name. On second thought … She hadn’t given him her name, any of it. How did he … “I don’t know any Platadreki. My last name is Yarthine.” When he opened his mouth to respond, Marin cut him off. Truly, enough was enough. She needed some distance and some sanity. And … “Where in the hell are my clothes? I need to check on my aunt. Then I want to go home.”

Kyland sat on the side of the bed, his body relaxed. The calmer he became, the more Marin wanted to throw something at him. “Your clothes were ruined. They were covered in blood and the smell- If you were to wear them, you would find yourself in a bed beside your aunt, before you could blink.” Marin thought it was odd, the way he said aunt, as if he really meant to say bitch, but before she could ask, he continued, “We are quite close to your home. I stopped here, not wanting to go into your personal space, without your knowledge.”

Kyland looked extremely proud of his reasoning, but Marin was getting more upset by the minute. “Let me get this straight. You didn’t feel it would be acceptable to enter my home without permission, but taking my clothes was just fine and dandy?” He just sat there staring at her, waiting. Baring her teeth, she demanded, “Well?” Marin clenched her fists. She could feel her anger getting out of control. What in the hell was wrong with her?

Kyland jolted to his feet. “Ow. You did not need to shock me.”

Glancing around, Marin tried to understand, but his statement was odd enough to bring her rage back under control. “I did no such thing,” Marin refuted. It really was sad to watch someone flying over the cuckoo’s nest.

Kyland could only blink at her in response, but he supposed that answered one question. Marin was completely unaware of her magic. Most likely freezing the Sprite, and flinging the car away, were done on instinct, not purpose. He needed to find out why. Why didn’t Marin know about her abilities and why had it taken twenty-one years for her gifts to surface. Surely she would have noticed that she had magical gifts over the last two decades. Flashes of power, every time her emotions got out of control, would be hard to miss.

“I want my clothes,” Marin hissed.

Removing her soiled clothing had be one of the hardest tasks that Kyland had ever faced. To see all those curves bare, even bruised, had been almost impossible to resist. Nudity had always been acceptable among the Fae. Those with a tail didn’t see the need to wear pants; those with wings saw little need for a shirt; and those with the ability to change shape would rather not rip through their garments, while slipping to animal form.

“I have told you. They were ruined-” Kyland didn’t manage to get any further. The jolt of power, that came his way, knocked him to the floor. Who would have guessed, that such a temper hid within such a slight form.

“Then give me yours.” Marin forgot to hold up her comforter in her anger, not that Kyland was about to complain. She was extremely beautiful. Curves that begged to be touched, flowed with the smoothest skin he had ever seen, and her eyes … He loved watching as the light blue color flashed into brighter blues and greens, minute reds and pinks, and the purest of whites.

With her power riding close, Marin’s eyes were the color of high priced opals. At a glance, and without the added power, her eyes appeared to be a mesmerizing light blue. But at this moment, and in the midst of her anger, he saw rainbow sparks blazing like small prisms within her eyes.

Marin’s height might have been small for a human female; Kyland didn’t know. To him, she looked damn near tiny, vulnerable and in need of protection. Currently shining like a mixture of white and rose gold, her golden light-blonde hair fell past her waist. Exquisite didn’t begin to describe Marin. Even angry, she rivaled goddess potential.

Kyland handed over a pair of his leggings and a clean shirt. When she only stared at him, he turned his back. Not that he had missed even one of those delectable curves, while checking for wounds, but he would give Marin her privacy. Shaking his head, he wondered exactly how human Marin had been raised. Nudity was common place, and a body like hers should never be hidden. “I will check the area while you dress,” Kyland explained as he went for the door.

“Wait,” Marin called out. He turned back with his hand firmly on the door knob. “Check? Check for what?”

“Gremlins, or any other form of attack.”

Eyes widening, Marin held her palm up before turning back to her borrowed clothing, dismissing Kyland and the conversation, without words.

Marin had definitely grown up completely human. All these years, Kyland had assumed that she was being held somewhere, but that she would still know of their world; that she would have see the worst parts of her Fae background, but that she would still be aware. Kyland had gone over and over all the ways to help her accept the beauty, as well as evil she had been exposed to. But Marin knew nothing.

Even worse, Marin seemed unaware of her random power flares. And she had a troubled, yet caring, relationship with a traitor of their kind. He suspected Lindal to be responsible for one of the strongest blocking spells he had ever encountered.

Someone of the de Platadreki line should never have been raised human. Kyland had finally figured out her linage, but explaining that to Marin in a way that she would accept, was another matter. He had enough trouble thinking of ways to show Marin that she had any kind of power. Dangerously trapped power. Working out the hows and the whys of Marin’s kidnaping could barely compare to the danger of dealing with her restrained powers. A Fae bound in human’s clothing. Damn.

The road to the truth would be bumpy and painful. Lindal Rencoff had a lot to answer for. And Marin had a lot to learn.


Chapter Five

“Okay. Where are we? I need to get back to the hospital. I’m thankful that you saved me, but I need to check on my aunt and you need to check out the psych ward.” Marin gave a cheeky smile as she said, “Come on, we’ll go to the hospital together.”

Kyland braced from the unavoidable shock to come, but he refused to lie to her. “We are near your home. And the Gremlins are waiting for you at the hospital.”

“Talk like that will get you committed. Gremlins are movie props and nothing more. A group of thugs, with questionable bathing habits, attacked me. They have been dealt with, and I will watch out for others from their group, in the future. Now … Where are we?” Marin spoke rapidly, as she waved one of her dainty hands through the air.

Kyland shook his head, and opened the passenger door for Marin. She slid into his rental car and he cringed. Kyland couldn’t wait to return the damn thing. But first, he needed to find a way to get through to Marin.
Firmly closing her door, he moved to the back of the car. Kyland was not a Guide, he was a Battle Fae. He could fight her attackers, but explaining the unknown was a different matter.

Hearing a high pitched feminine screech, Kyland raced around the car, heading for his door. Marin started cussing, using language harsh enough to embarrass a sailor on leave. What the hell was happening now?
Wrenching open his door, he mentally prepared himself to do battle in the small, enclosed space.

Seeing her safe and unharmed, Kyland slumped behind the wheel. He chuckled, as he stared at the little winged man, in charge of convincing Marin that magic existed. The poor little guy’s wings looked a little singed.

“Damn, damn, damn. One hallucination in a twenty-four hour period is my limit. You, little figment, must go.”

Marin had her window down, about to fling the Sprite out when, Kyland grabbed hold of her wrist. “Stop. He is a messenger of the Queen’s. If you were not … I mean …” Taking a deep breath, he tried once more. “Let us ask him what message he brings.”

“Only the insane talk to figments of their imagination and I’m too busy to be crazy.” Marin had her arms crossed, a full on pout pushing her bottom lip out. Kyland shrugged in the Sprites direction, and sat back in the driver’s seat. The little guy was on his own.

The Sprite merely raised his chin, and floated into the back of the car. Leaning over to push some of Marin’s hair behind her ear, Kyland whispered, “Just work with me. He is real.” He would have stopped there, but fate was in a foul mood. Looking out the window, Kyland hissed, “And so are they.”

At least twenty Gremlins marched toward them, coming from either end of the street. Attacking again so soon and in such a large pack, felt out of character. They needed reinforcements, but for now Kyland and Marin just needed to run. Cocking an eyebrow, he focused on Marin and asked, “What do you wish to do? Stay and fight, or run?”

Nose crinkling and arms crossed in a clearly incredulous fashion, Marin merely stared at him.

Shrugging his shoulders, Kyland explained, “I thought you wanted me to ask before acting?” Women … no matter the species were impossible to understand. He pointed to the advancing force, and her eyes widened at the sight.

Throwing her arm out and slapping in Kyland’s direction, Marin yelled, “Have you lost you mind? Drive!” A strong burst of power accompanied her reverberated words.

Kyland had to grab the wheel, before the car drove across the parking lot and straight into the motel. He really needed to work on Marin’s control over her power. At her command to drive, the car had sprung to life and indeed begun to drive. Marin, of course, had missed it all. Instead, she continued staring at the approaching mass of Gremlins.

Luckily, he had felt her power and its refusal to be contained. Kyland had felt the resonance of her voice, sensed the strength of her essence. For a split second her gift had pushed itself beyond curses, beyond the block. And then nothing. Marin was back to feeling powerless and human.

It was only a matter of time before her powers broke free permanently. If Kyland couldn’t teach her to manipulate her gifts slowly and one at a time, they were all in danger. Kyland feared that the power he could sense locked up deep within her psyche would, explode without warning, harming everyone in it’s path.

Marin cradled her head, while her hallucination sat on her shoulder. He was surprising hefty for a man of no more than six inches in height, especially a man with fully functional wings. But hallucination or not, his weight felt real enough.

So maybe Kyland was right about the Gremlins coming for her. Though Marin refused to call that mass of unwashed bodies Gremlins. At least not out loud, not without a fight.

“So, we go to my house. We need to call the police.” She felt her hips, searching for pockets that she didn’t have. The last time she remembered seeing cell phone, she was in the parking lot at Crystal Sights.
She looked around her immediate area, before hanging her head in defeat. “I need my cell.”

“You are free now. You will never be forced into imprisonment again.” Kyland ground out, nodding his head as if something finally made sense.

Marin shook her head, not understanding half of what Kyland said, and wishing she could forget the rest. After a moment she understood that this time Kyland had misunderstood. “No- I meant- It’s the phone I can carry around with me. A cell phone or a portable telephone.” Man. Could you say literal. She let her eyes close as she wondered why the crazy man thought that she would ask to be taken to her prison cell. She wanted to see the end of this day, as soon as possible.

“Oh. I do not know if I retrieved anything like that. Before Lindal was taken away, I picked up two handbags for females, and a Crystal Sights bag. They are in the trunk of my automobile.”

“In the trunk of this car?”

“Yes.”

“And your just telling me?”

“Yes.” Kyland shrugged a shoulder and continued to drive down the highway, like a little old man. After pulling out of his space in front of the motel, he had decreased his speed from an extremely dangerous ninety, until he happily drove under the speed limit. He seemed to be making up for his death defying act with snail-like precision.

Unpublished excerpt, Not for distribution outside Author’s Permission © Tracey Clark

Skymann: Andrew and Brigit

Chapter one

Andrew Skymann snapped awake. His body shaking, the sheets soaked in sweat. He smelled the pain and fear, the humiliation, as it permeated his bedroom. Slowly sitting up, he roughly scrubbed at his face.

“Andrew?” The lingering effects of the nightmare were made reality a little cloudy, as his twin brother stuck his head through the cracked door.

Andrew’s body jerked slightly, seeing Jacob. It took a moment to erase the feeling that he was watching his body from across the room. “What’s up?”

“Heard your caterwauling and decided to check it out,” Jacob deadpanned.

“I’m good, Jacob,” Andrew reassured.

“Since you’re up, what are your thoughts to owning a restaurant?”

Andrew fell back and threw his arm over his eyes. “The kid isn’t going to allow you to take over his life the same way the rest of us have,” he mumbled.

“I heard that and I disagree. Samuel is a cooking genius. I’m merely making sure that he has the room to flourish.”

Jacob sounded so sincere that Andrew’s jaw dropped as he pushed himself back into a sitting position. Before their twenty-first birthday, Andrew and Jacob were well on their way to starting what was now a very lucrative business. Jacob controlled all promotions and stood in the spotlight, allowing Andrew to do what he loved. Write.

Andrew shook his head. “Look. You’ve earned the latitude to make any and all snap decisions. But maybe, just maybe, you should talk to Samuel first.”

“We both know that kid will always feel like the baby brother in the family. Which he is, but that’s beside the point.”

“Jacob-”

“Besides, it’s too late. The contractor called last night after you went to bed. Says the kitchens are ready to go. Now I just need to get Samuel to fine tune the area.”

“We run art, not food. Our studio spaces comprise of painters, writer’s groups and classes, and other non-edible goods. Why in the hell do we need a kitchen.”

“What about the studio I designed in our main building for Marcus.” Jacob crossed his arms and leaned against the door jam. His position spoke volumes.

Andrew tried one more time to get through his twin’s stubborn skull. “That’s architecture and again, non-edible. That only worked because Jackson decided to take you up on the offer. If you hadn’t thought to include our cousin in the mix, that deal would have died before Marcus got his hands around your next.”

“Big brother merely delayed the inevitable. Marcus could had his own company years ago. Instead he ran off and enlisted.”

Andrew got out of bed, left his windowless bedroom, and followed Jacob out of the room. Moving to the windows of his living area, he asked, “Do you really think you can get Samuel on board. I know you have his future in mind, but even his jams, jellies, and candies are sold under our mother’s maiden name. He obviously doesn’t want recognition.”

Andrew couldn’t see much of their gated community in the pre-dawn hours. Jacob’s manipulation had lead to thousands of acres for Marcus and Jackson to build luxury homes on. Beautiful homes close to a marina that Jacob had also managed to talk him into buying. Really, a restaurant was relatively low risk for one of Jacob’s schemes.

“I’ll start some coffee. You owe me pancakes for that comment and for waking me up.” Jacob’s voice continued to mumble up the stairs.

“Ha!” Andrew would have called Jacob on the obvious lie but his twin was already out the door, no doubt off to restart the coffee pot. He didn’t believe that Jacob’s sleep had in anyway been disturbed. His bedroom was located on the third floor of their massive home. He never would have heard Andrew’s cries unless he was already up and prowling. Andrew’s rooms sat in the partially submerged basement, making his bedroom at least four floors from Jacob’s. Half of the basement was underground and surrounded by dirt, the other half could be considered ground level, widows and all. His office received copious amounts of morning sun, at least it did once the sun was actually up.

Damn, it was too early for this. Pitching his voice loud enough for Jacob to hear, Andrew suggested, “We need to have Samuel come over and cook. So that I can remember what kind of art he makes.”

Just the thought of the kid’s cooking had his stomach sitting up in notice. It would almost be worth the nightmare and early morning wake up call, if they could get Samuel to fix a batch of his world famous flapjacks covered in his homemade preserves. Just the thought had a Pavlovian effect. Andrew’s mouth creatied so much saliva that swallowing became an issue.

Andrew started up the stairs, his muscles complaining the entire way. Why in the hell do we need such a huge house? So many stairs … Coffee. Neeeeeed coffee.

A man should not be forced to scale mountains before the early bird had time to leave it’s nest. Andrew made a mental note to look into an elevator as soon as his brain began to function with more than one cylinder. Today was bound to suck. But then any day that began hours before the sun came up was a day to be leery of.

——————

The delicious aroma of coffee pulled Jacob into a better mood. He had already consumed more than half a pot, but the smell of freshly brewing caffeine worked better than any drug. Today was destined to suck no matter what he did but coffee was always a necessity. Andrew’s nightmares on top of Jacob’s lack of sleep had a neon sign to stay in the house flashing in the back of his mind. If only they could call in sick, play hookie. A day spent hiding from all responsibilities sounded like heaven. Any other weekend, Jacob would be hell bent on dragging his brother out for a short yachting excursion but they were booked for the evening.

The top of Jacob’s to-do list involved pulling Andrew out of his studio to attend a gallery showing for one of their local up-and-coming artists. Brigit McDernmit already had rave reviews from even the snobbiest of critics.

Andrew’s recent fantasy series was quite erotic. It had a completely different feel when compared to his mystery novels. When Jacob asked about upping the scales on the flesh intake, Andrew had joked that sex sells. “It was a no brainer that my characters need to get physical from time to time. Skin hunger is a dangerous and ever present need, even in the world of make-believe.” Whatever. All Jacob heard was, “Blah, blah, blah; I need to get laid.” So that’s what would happen.

Jacob had the perfect antidote planned. His date had insisted on making tonight a double date. Katlynn had claimed that only Andrew would do for her best friend. She had assured him that her friend was a sure thing, with her sights set on his twin. One night of French food and pretentious art patrons, and Andrew’s skin hunger would be a thing of the past.

“Cofffeeee! Must have coffee!” Andrew’s feet barely left the floor as he shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing his back as he moved. Ringing with sweat, his reddish brown skin had a ashy undertone but at least his eyes had brightened a little with that first whiff of one of aroma’s best. Breakfast and a few gallons of the beautiful brown nectar would fix Andrew right up.

Deciding to lift Andrew’s mood, Jacob pointed out the coffee. “On the breakfast bar. And Samuel is on his way.”

And looky there. Andrew perked right up. “Oh, thank heavens! Perhaps we do need a family chef.”

Family chef was right. The kid could fix damn near anything to perfection. His rack of lamb could bring tears to the eye. His fried rice went exquisitely with any meal. Every dish was divine, but his breakfast creations were damn near moan worthy, especially his flapjacks with powdered sugar and homemade preserves.

Jacob admitted, “It wasn’t me. Samuel saw the kitchen lights come on. Don’t know what he was doing up but he said he would be right over.”

Samuel had an overwhelmingly helpful nature. He saw that the lights were on and he immediately called to volunteer his services for what ever task his brothers were attempting at such an ungodly hour. The kid was probably cooking anyway. He might as well use his gift where others could partake of the end results.

“Morning.” Samuel looked around the kitchen before moving to the breakfast bar and the life rejuvenating black liquid waiting to be consumed. Taking a sip he sang out, “Tsk, tsk! Ten foot privacy gating does not negate the need to lock your doors.” The little bastard was too damn chipper.

“Watch your sass, kid. And you had better have some of your world famous preserves with you,” Andrew got straight to the heart of the matter. They were running low and breakfast wouldn’t be the same without homemade preserves. They were truly spoiled when it came to breakfast condiments. Samuel’s preserves could be worked into any meal.

“Chill, Andrew. Just drink the wonderfully dark coffee and think happy thoughts.” With a grin Samuel added, “Would I show up this early without a gift. I even brought a mixed case. I’ve added cherry rhubarb this year, so tell me what you think.”

Jacob couldn’t help but smile. A whole case of Samuel’s preserves. “Tell you what … You fix up some of your flapjacks and I’ll gladly try anything you want.”

A few cases of preserves and Jacob could be talked into just about anything. A lifetime supply and he would gladly sign over his half of the business that he had worked so hard to build with Andrew. Boy, but the kid could cook.

“Flapjacks comin’ right up. The preserves are by the veranda door. You can-“

That was all Jacob heard as he rushed to beat Andrew to the goods. Coffee and lack of sleep ceased to matter as those magic words came out of Samuel’s mouth. Preserves!

They were off their bar stools and racing for the goods. It was always the same, a competition to have first pick of the delicious concoctions. The blueberry and the blackberry were always the first to go. Whatever Samuel’s secret was, those two came out better than any other brand out there. The race was on, not that Samuel would refuse to make more if they ran out. Still the call to grab the prize first, to beat Andrew to that first jar, had them pushing and running like five-year-olds.

Rounding into the screened in veranda area, Jacob was forced to jerk to a stop in surprise.

“What’s up?” Andrew asked with confusion in his voice, as he collided with Jacob’s back.

Jacob slowly moved out of the way, allowing Andrew to see three cases sitting in the middle of their entry like well placed Christmas presents. Their veranda had never looked so good. He finally allow his grin to spread across his face.

Andrew’s jaw dropped to his chest, as he commented, “I thought he said ‘a’ case? Not three.”

Quickly moving to the closest box, Jacob commented, “This is what they call a gift horse, so stop checking out its teeth. Let’s get these open so we can mix and match a box of our favorites to keep. You know he’ll be carting the rest to mom and dad.” Samuel’s preserves were a big hit with everyone. Sheri and Samson Skymann – their aunt and uncle – were no different than the rest of them. Jacob didn’t know where he and his brothers would be without Sheri and Samson. The couple had added four extra mouths to their already large family, becoming the parents that they had never known.

Shaking thoughts of the past from his head, he moved to the case of preserves. “We can-” Jacob froze, as he opened the first box. Now his jaw fell to the floor. Wow didn’t begin to cover the sight of so many of their favorites! God bless that kid and his wonderful thoughtfulness!

Jacob looked over at a silently stunned Andrew. The case that Jacob had opened contained jar after jar of delicious blueberry divinity. One glance showed that the case in front of Andrew held nothing but blackberry goodness. That wonderful, wonderful kid!

Andrew finally met Jacob’s gaze, one of his rare smiles breaking free, as he said, “Forget the flapjacks, just find me a spoon.”

A low masculine chuckle escaped Jacob’s throat at his twin’s understatement. They needed two spoons.

Skymann-Andrew and Brigit, sneak peak, Not for distribution outside Author’s Permission © Tracey Clark

share and share alike

This is the post I decided to share with http://www.rubyslipperedsisterhood.com/ and their ‘winter writing festival’. A little update on how the past two weeks have been. Feel free to add a comment about your own life progress (writing, job hunts, or even laundry … interesting events happen when we least expect them.)

I have been working on a few different projects… my mind refuses to stay where I need it, so I allow my thoughts to drift for a few hours before I return to my WIP. I have been updating my blog www.traceylclark.wordpress.com, keeping up with #sunvssnow on twitter (and posting to my own comments https://twitter.com/traceylclark11) because I managed to enter the query contest before the 200 limit cut off (which happened in six minutes, omg), editing my first book which I will always feel needs a little more love with each new writing tactic I learn, and finally I have been adding to my WIP. Here are a few snippets from my editing venture. Enjoy and happy wordage everyone.

Tracey L Clark

Edits of book one, FINDER’S KEEPERS

#1:

“I will find him, Lindal. He won’t get away with this,” Marin made her vow as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb Lindal’s recovery.

Glancing up, Marin noticed that there was something swinging off of Lindal’s oxygen line. “What the…” It looked like a BARBIE with wings, perhaps six inches tall. The odd little creature was wearing a loin cloth and obviously male. He was also making a knot in Lindal’s oxygen line. The little man didn’t seem to realize that Marin staring at him.

“Stop,” Marin shouted. Damn-it, this was a hospital. She needed to lower her voice. She also needed to go up stairs to the psych ward. She was obviously hallucinating.

Hallucinating or not, she grabbed the little man by the wings and tried to speak more calmly. “What do you think your doing?”

She finally had her figments attention. A beautiful though small pair of lavender eyes glared at her through overly long sandy brown bangs. On closer inspection, she could see that his hair was actually multicolored. It seemed to go from crystal white sand to bronzed gold.

“Well, answer me. What do you think you’re doing?”

“Waiting for you of course.”

“What are you?” She was losing it. The buzzing in her temples was increasing. She must have hit her head. That was the only answer. She was now speaking with a figment of her imagination. Yep. She had lost it.

The creature put it’s tiny fists on his hips. “A sprite, of course. Don’t you know anything?” Now she was being insulted by her imagination.

“Nope. Too Much,” Marin said, and tossed the little man out of the hospital window. She needed coffee. Either that or a large dose of Thorazine.

#2:

Kyland could only blink at her in response but he supposed that answered one question. Marin was completely unaware of magic. Most likely freezing the sprite and flinging the car away were done on instinct, not purpose. He needed to find out why… Why didn’t Marin know about her abilities and why had it taken twenty-one years for her gifts to surface. Surely she would have noticed that she was magical over the last two decades if she was having flashes of power every time she became upset.

“I want my clothes,” Marin hissed.

“I have told you. They were ruined…” Kyland didn’t manage to get any further. The jolt of power that came his way this time was so strong that he was knocked to the floor. Who would have guessed that such a temper was hidden within such a slight form.

“Then give me yours.” Marin forgot to hold up her comforter in her anger, not that Kyland was about to complain. She was extremely beautiful. Curves that begged to be touched flowed with the smoothest skin he had ever seen, and her eyes… He could stare into them forever.

With her power riding close, Marin’s eyes were the color of the finest opals. At a glance and without the added power, they appeared to be a mesmerizing light blue. But at this moment and in the midst of her anger, he saw rainbow sparks blazing like small prisms within her eyes.

Marin was about 5’6”, average for a woman but to Kyland’s 6’8” she was petite. Her golden light blonde hair fell past her waist, and was currently shining like a mixture of white and rose gold. She was beautiful, and even angry, she was a goddess.

Finders Keepers, sneak peak, Not for distribution outside Author’s Permission © Tracey Clark

Sam and Nic novel

sand and ash

The skin had turned grayish white in death. Though, Sam supposed that could be a result of the ash-like substance covering most of the flesh. Detective Samantha Cass had never seen anything so odd. People were made of flesh and blood. They were composed of wet materials that just didn’t produce ash when burning, and she was definitely seeing burn marks.

Squatting closely to the victim’s head, voice monotone, Sam muttered, “How did you get here, kid?”

“It’s obvious that she was dumped here.” Detective Jessica Falin cocked her head to the side, mouth turned down, but her eyes were wide and filled with glee. “Do you think the Captain will finally sack your ass, when you add this case to the growing pile of unsolved mysteries on your desk?”

Face tightening and her eyes narrowing, Sam did her best to ignore Detective Falin. She focused on the young woman, no more than a girl, lying at her feet. Burn marks around all orifices, especially the face, the child had obviously been through hell.

The eyes and the surrounding skin had faired the worst. Sam could see bits of bone around the orbital sockets. Ash filled the eye holes, as the victim stared sightlessly into the star studded sky. Dying in the middle of a forested area of Ohio, she could have screamed for hours without anyone hearing.

“We’ll need a finger print analysis. I want to know who this was, as soon as possible.” Sam rubbed the back of her neck, doing her best to keep her tone as calm and respectful as possible. Not an easy task.

Jessica’s posture snapped stiff and straight. She took a step away from Sam’s crouched position, her arms wrapping securely around her chest, as she hissed, “Since when do I take orders from you?”

Fighting not to roll her eyes at the fit throwing viper, Sam ran her hands through her hair and resisted the urge to give the strands a firm yank or two. Jessica had always been combative, but lately, her hatred seemed to be focused solely on Sam.

Climbing carefully to her feet, lips pinched Sam wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. “Look. If you have a problem taking orders from me, I suggest you make an appointment with the Captain. I’m lead on this case, so get in line or get the hell out of my way.”

Feeling her blood pressure climbing, Sam turned her back on Jessica and the body, and walked away. Sam needed to rein in her temper and finish investigating the scene. Something that would be hard to do if she killed Jessica in the middle of all the evidence.

Leaving the body for later, Sam forced herself to walk the area looking for tracks. The more she looked, the greater her frustration grew. Whipping around to face Jessica, Sam made her way back to the body and inquired, voice stiff, “How did the parameter get trampled?”

Waving dismissively, Jessica sneered, “I suggest you ask whomever was first on the scene. That wasn’t me and it definitely wasn’t you.”

Sam practically stood on tiptoe in an attempt to get up in the Amazon’s face, but it was an accomplishment that she was doomed to execute. The bitch towered over her by at least a foot. Sam needed a stepping stool if she wanted to go nose to nose with Jessica. Not that she allowed that to stop her from trying. “Pack in the attitude and get the fuck out of my face. So what if I know you secret. Not my problem, not my fault. As long as you’re not hitting on me, I don’t care who you slide between the sheets with.”

“You don’t know shi-“ Jessica’s smirk seemed brittle and frozen in place, as her eyes began darting around the area at their co-workers.

“Save it. Everyone was running around spilling their guts. Not to mention that you had your hand on my ass,” Sam managed to lower her words into a hiss. She wanted to scream at the woman, but pushing her out of the closet would hardly endear Jessica’s good will. Not that her attempt at discretion appeared to be appreciated by the other woman.

“I don’t know what you think happened, but-” Jessica was still attempting to deny the fact that she had hit on Sam. Her words had a mocking lilt, as her hands slashed through the air.

Sam’s teeth clenched, and then she interrupted, “Enough. You want to pretend that it didn’t happen … fine. You aren’t the only one pretending that I wasn’t needed to enforce my No with a harsh physical gesture, with more than one of my fellow cops. You want to pretend, then we pretend. But that means that you need to pull your head out of your ass. Or at the very least, revert back to the uptight know-it-all you were before you spilled your guts and became this impossible fish wife, with a stick up your bum.” Refusing to allow Jessica to continue their hissing match, Sam turned back the body and started yelling out orders. “I want the first on scene’s account. And where the hell is the M.E. I want out of Hocking Hills before the hour is up.”

More than two hours from home, in an area that was supposed to be beautiful, especially in October, Sam wanted to scream. The leaves flowed in every color from brightest green to the palest of yellows, from shades of deepest red to the earthiest of browns. On any other day this would be paradise, but not today. Today, the glories of nature were ruined by death and decay. Today, the land was soaked in the demise of youthful hopes and dreams.

This child, her death, marred the beauty. Sam shook her head, attempting to dispel identifying smell. Instead of a world full of crisp refreshing breezes, she smelled charred flesh and loss of bodily functions. Instead of being reminded of the coming months of snow and sparkling landscapes, Sam knew that death came to all seasons with equal disdain. The final humiliation that every soul goes through, as the light leaves their eyes and the body evacuates everything in the bowels, reaches everyone.

Sam had a sour taste in the back of her throat. She wanted to attribute the taste and her chest pains to the aroma in the air, but she dreaded that Jessica’s words would come true. Would this be another unsolved mysteries for the stack growing on her desk. Even worse, this felt like one of those crime scenes with a well practiced edge. Sam could feel it in her bones. This sicko had killed before. Before long, he would kill again.

 

(still being edited and looking for an agent)

Sam and Nick, sneak peak, Not for distribution outside Author’s Permission © Tracey Clark

how to see the world?

Be it the online world or the world of reality and human interaction, I always find it amazing to realize that no two sets of eyes will see a situation in the same way. From eyewitness accounts of a crime, to in-class discussions of poetry and life. The eyes see but it is the individual brain that interprets.

Before I was forced to leave collage due to an onset of MS, I had the opportunity to take part in one of the higher poetry classes. We created our rhyming (or not so rhythmic) verses, before sitting before one another in judgment. I would read my piece, then listen as my fellow classmates discussed meaning and intent. They took in my words and decided the why’s and how’s hidden within. This fascinated me. Which most likely wasn’t the point of the exercises, but I decided to create a piece worthy of what I was seeing.

“The Written Word”

 Not for distribution outside Author’s Permission © Tracey Clark

throw me down

mark me up

violate me

and tear me apart

read into what I say

take away what you will

but leave my pieces

for the mending maker to wield

For the first time in class, everyone seemed to agree. I allowed my family and friends to read what I had created, and they also said the same things. Oh, there were small differences of opinion, but for the most part, they were all in agreement. Suddenly, I was the only one able to look at my words without seeing the plight of a rape victim.

In a small way, they were correct. It was about a violation, but not one of human flesh. I had put into words what I thought my poetry would say to my classmates. If the written words could stand up for themselves, surely they would complain about the evils of man.

I knew that my poetry, and now my novels, would look at the wielders of the evil red pen with distaste, and fear. I knew that each and every word shook in terror, while hearing that they were unnecessary or too harsh. But I also knew that I was responsible for the whole of the work. It was, and is, my job to make sure that the worlds I create come out of each edit whole. Be it poetry, novel, or art of any ilk, I am responsible for the life I create, my babies. 😛

But how am I supposed to present my words, when the eyes before me will only be able to see/understand small portions of my creation, never able to take in the whole of it. Eyes and brains function differently, depending on age, life lessons, preconceived notions, etc … Not to mention the medium that my work/words are viewed through. Twitter is an excellent example of this point. This frustrating point.

I came across a post on twitter that took my mind back to those earlier poetry classes. A beautiful representation of some of my own words. A visual point of view of my inner voices.

Posted by

The Female Book @thefemaleboook

“If u could change one thing about ur body, what would u change?” Answered by 6 adults & then by 6 kids.

B2BelcwIgAEWqzK B2Bele3IUAAB16F

B2BelevIQAERrXtB2BelfKIUAESVjI

I started thinking of all the ways that we lose the magic in our lives. At some point it seems to become automatic. We lose the ability to answer questions with the fantasy and dreaming of a child. I mean, the adult answer of wanting to become taller is no more realistic than the childlike wonder of growing wings. Most adults need that extra second or two in order to see the world hidden behind the forced reality of adulthood. I read this post and felt compelled to ask the twitter-verse at large what they believed had happened to take these wonders from our eyes, how we could get that wonder back?

But the 140 characters of a twitter response allows for much confusion. I had forgotten the lessons learned from my poetry class. I looked at this post and remembered a different poem.

“I wonder of the world”

Not for distribution outside Author’s Permission © Tracey Clark

I wonder of the world

That happens all the day

The innocent abyss

That comes when children play

I wonder how they stay

In their place and time

When they climb a mountain

Or swim the ocean wide

I wonder if they know

There’s no one really there

I wonder if they see

Their friends are made of air

I wonder if they know

Their mountain is a hill

Or that the ocean blue

A rocky shore that’s still

I wonder what they see

When in their jungle hut

Or how they learn to tame

Their wild jungle mutts

I wonder of this world

That happens all the day

And I wonder how I lost

My innocent days of play

An author that I greatly respect, and admire, saw my comment and thought that I was worried about body images, which was reflected in her response. I was mortified, and still not thinking of my poetry life lesson. So I tried to clear the misunderstanding up. Which did what???? Made things worse of course. I replied that I was actually talking about losing childlike wonder. Soooooo … the matter was cleared up, right????? Nope. That would be insane logic.

She responded that she couldn’t help with that type of question, because she still saw the magic of the world around her, because she was a writer. All of which made me look like an unimaginative layman with body issues. lol

Moral of the story…. be careful when you dissect another’s words, and remember that if you put it in black and white, someone else will be sure to find their own meaning hidden inside.

happy wordage everyone, Tracey