As I rounded the corner, I smiled at the usual banter coming from the twins’ room. I paused at the doorway and shrieked when I saw Ambrosia sporting a plastic baseball bat in her hands ready to swing it at Aaron’s head.
“Ambrosia, don’t you dare hit Aaron with that bat! Give that to me. Do you want to put your brother in the hospital?”
Ambrosia dropped the bat as if it suddenly acquired some magical power and singed her hands. Sitting on the lower bed, she pulled the pink comforter up to her chin, and shook her head, her reddish brown curls dangling over her face and down her back. “He called me a baby because I cried when the earthcrack happened this morning,” she confessed with an angelic pout.
“Earthquake,” I corrected and looked at my little brother. “Aaron, I cried too. Does that make me a baby?” Well, I hadn’t exactly cried, but almost and he didn’t need to know that.
Aaron scrunched his eyebrows together, jumped off the bed and stood, shooting his fists straight up in the air. His identical reddish brown curls fluffed around his head, and a thin red blanket tied around his upper chest hung down his back. Mom made sure he knew never to tie anything around his neck and he took it literally. “Don’t worry, I will protect you. Me and Dad. We’re the mans of this family.”
“Well, I feel much better now, don’t you, Ambie?” Ambrosia rolled her eyes and giggled. I’d taken to calling her that after I read in some paranormal story that ambrosia meant “food of the gods, said to bestow immortality.” Picturing my little sister as some immortal’s snack sort of grossed me out. My mom thought it would be cute for all of us to have the same initials as she and my dad, ARC. Actually, I thought it gave us all some sort of bond, something that connected us, more than just blood.
“Let’s see, what do you guys want to wear today?”
“Mama said we didn’t have school today ‘cause of the earthcrack,” Aaron pouted.
“Right.”
“When can we go back to school?” he asked.
“Stupid earthcracks. I don’t like them.” Ambrosia jumped off the bed, standing stiff with her arms crossed over her chest and sticking out her bottom lip, while Aaron stood at her side, a mirror image.
“Yeah, stupid earthcracks,” he mimicked.
“In about a week, I guess.” I handed Aaron a pair of jeans and a blue shirt I pulled from his drawer. “Here, put these on. Ambrosia, you have a blue shirt, don’t you? Oh here it is,” I said, rummaging through the messy drawer that my mom would no doubt have a fit over. That is, if she ever got over the mess in the rest of the house.
“Who’s here?” Aaron asked at the sound of a knock on the front door.
“Probably that obnoxious Courtland guy. Daddy wants him to help soothe the horses,” I said with a sigh.
“He’s not noxious. He’s nice and handsome, like Daddy. I want to marry him when I grow up.” Ambrosia twirled around, holding her clothes out in front of her so they flowed through the air.
“You’re stupid.” Aaron rolled his eyes and pounced onto his bed.
“Shhh. Both of you get dressed; I’ll go tell him Daddy’s in the stable.”
I strolled toward the door, glancing in the living room on my way. The vacuum roared with an occasional crunching sound as my mother pushed the beast over and over the area in front of the hutch.
I opened the door to find Courtland Reese. His already broad shoulders seemed huge in that dark green hoodie zipped halfway up his chest, revealing a dark blue and black checkered shirt I’d seen him wear before. As I remembered, it had tight short sleeves that made him look rather tough the way his muscles peeked out from the hem of the sleeve, not like the freaky weird guy everyone claimed he was. He ran his fingers through his dark hair and gave me an almost dangerous looking half-smile then looked down at his feet. He shifted from one foot to the other, sticking both hands in his pockets before glancing back at me with vibrant green eyes. I don’t remember ever being this close to him and I suddenly felt like I’d forgotten to get dressed. I’d never noticed his eyes before or the way they could make me feel so defenseless. He kept glancing around the front yard as if he was looking for something. Why did he always act like there were a million and one things he’d rather be doing than talking to me? Well, the feeling was mutual, I’m sure.
Book Links
Amazon Buy for Whisper Cape (Book 1) US
Amazon Buy for Whisper Cape (Book 1) UK
Amazon Buy link for Reflections (Whisper Cape, Book 2) US
Amazon Buy link for Reflections (Whisper Cape, Book 2) UK
Allusive Aftershock buy link US
Amazon Buy for Whisper Cape (Book 1) UK
Amazon Buy link for Reflections (Whisper Cape, Book 2) US
Amazon Buy link for Reflections (Whisper Cape, Book 2) UK
Allusive Aftershock buy link US
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 http://www.susangriscom.com/ or email her at susangriscom1@gmail.com or susangriscom@hotmail.com.
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