Thursday, September 26, 2013

Teaser | Allusive Aftershock by Susan Griscom #AllusiveAftershock


Max said Courtland was too “sweet” so he must be a mama’s boy as well as a pansy. I’d thought about pointing out that Courtland’s mother died several years ago so he couldn’t possibly be a mama’s boy, but it really wasn’t something worth starting an argument over. I wasn’t even sure about the sweet part; he didn’t look very sweet to me. He frowned a lot and never spoke to me unless I said something to him, which rarely ever happened, mostly because we really had nothing in common except for our love of animals. Court wasn’t a bad guy. I guess I just never really took the time to get to know him, but today wasn’t the day to start. I didn’t want him near Big Blue, except my father seemed to think Courtland Reese had what it took to make or break a good stud like my horse.

“Well, I’m calling him anyway,” my dad said, interrupting my thoughts. “There are other animals around here besides Blue that could use a bit of calming.”

Convinced that Big Blue was steady and unflustered, I trucked back inside the house to help pick up china with my mom, another spirit in dire need of appeasement. Mom sniffled as she swept up shattered pieces of china and my heart felt as broken as Mom’s dishes, not for the china, but for my mother. She put so much stock in preserving the past. Personally, I didn’t see the importance but respected the fact that she did.

“Sorry, Mom.” I didn’t really know what else to say to her so I grabbed another dustpan and broom.

Angelica Castielle, the ever-protective angel, shooed me away. “Careful, honey. I’m afraid you’ll cut yourself. I’ll finish sweeping this up. Why don’t you go help with the twins instead? Could you get them dressed and give them some cereal?” Did it bother me that my mother would, on occasion, treat me like a twelve-year-old? Yeah, but this particular time I was thankful to be away from her sniffling over broken antique porcelain.

“Sure.” I forced a smile and headed toward the twins’ room. I’d rather help them figure out what they were going to wear anyway. My siblings’ choices of clothing never failed to amuse me. Ambrosia always wanted to mimic Aaron. She was no doubt slated to be the next great tomboy in our small town of Pleasant Ridge, following in my very own footsteps. In fact, I still wanted to do everything Max did. I’d been following him around most of my life. Max is the one and only child of Julie and Carl Wendell, owners of Wendell Winery, the second largest vineyard in Pleasant Ridge, California. My parents provided Max with free riding lessons from the time he turned ten years old. They also allowed him to board his horse Misty, a golden mare, in our stable in exchange for some great—from what I’d heard—wine. Max joked that Misty had the hots for Big Blue. Hell, he might’ve been right.

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About the Author
Susan Griscom writes paranormal romance, but her playing field delves into a different milieu than the usual vampires and werewolves. Some day she might write about fangs and fur, but for now she prefers sticking to strong heroes and heroines confronted with extraordinary forces of nature, powers and abilities beyond the norm, mixed with a little romance to get the blood boiling.

A self-proclaimed dreamer, her favorite pastime is reading, but writing is her passion.

Susan, a member of Romance Writers of America, lives in the Sierra Foothills in Northern California with her very romantic husband, her small yippy dog, Riley, and her humongous black cat, Saké. Her family consists of his and hers; four wonderful sons and one beautiful daughter, four grandchildren and two more on the way. Susan has said that when a story takes hold and pulls her into the fantasy, that's magic.

You can visit Susan at or email her at or

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