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Monthly Archives: October 2013
- by Tara Maya
Coyote: The Outlander by Chantal Noordeloos
No one knows where or when the rips will appear, but they do, and from them, Outlanders walk the earth. Coyote travels the territories with Caesar, her mysterious partner in the bounty hunter business, and together they confront these alien threats to humanity. Along the way, Coyote discovers a secret that threatens to shatter everything she believes about herself, her father, and her sworn enemy, James Westwood. Whether Outlander or inner demons, some things can’t be solved with a six shooter.
Download Coyote from Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or Smashwords.
Excerpt
“We’ve been over this, Mr. Pinkerton,” she scolded, “people I do business with call me Coyote.” There was a mocking sparkle in her eye. One eyebrow was slightly raised and she continued, “You have a job for me.”
It wasn’t a question. Allan chuckled and pulled a drawing from his coat. He unrolled the thick paper and handed it to her. The face of the ugliest man she had ever seen stared up at her from the page. His face looked like that of a weasel with a bad haircut.
“Handsome,” Coyote quipped. “How much is Prince Charming worth?”
“Two thousand dollars.”
“Big catch,” she said, and she pushed her Derby back slightly with her thumb, as was her habit. Coyote leaned back in her chair and whistled. The man next to her did not bat an eyelash.
“Very big catch, this…” she scanned the printed name beneath the uncomely face, “Alfonso Martine.” Her large round irises were a strange shade of cornflower blue that gave the illusion of being violet in the soft light of the saloon. “Unusual name for an Outlander.”
- by Tara Maya
Forged By Greed by Angela Orlowski-Peart
Two Seattle 16-year-olds, Jatred and Jasmira, are not your typical star-crossed lovers. They are not even your typical Shape Shifters. Sure, they try to live an ordinary life. At least, as ordinary as the Prince and the Princess of the rivaling ancient Races–the Winter wolves and the Summer leopards–can live. But eventually they learn that not much about their existence can be normal. Especially when the Races’ two commanding Goddesses are involved.One of the Goddesses is on a quest to tilt the scale of power to her side. The other will never let it happen, even if it means kicking Jatred and Jasmira’s love to the curb. Nothing is off limits, including removing Jatred’s memories of Jasmira.
To complicate things even more, there are the Universe’s powers to consider. They are trapped in an ancient Amulet in order to protect the stability of the world. But the Universe has a mind of its own, and when the powers are unleashed, the forces of nature are disturbed; earthquakes, tsunamis, and volcanic eruptions shake the Earth. All Shifters of both Races are summoned by their respective Goddesses to fight in the name of, or against, the normalcy of the world.
Forged by Greed, book 1 in the Forged series, is available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble.
Excerpt 1
“We are in the Summer Realm? How the hell did you get me here? I’m a Winter Shifter.” Jatred shot up to his feet.
“Relax. It’s only an illusion, remember? The Amulet did this.” Jasmira looked at him, dazed.
“No, no and no! This is not happening. Get me back to the Human World, J. Now! I’m serious. Get me out!” His eyes flicked around. “Get me out before Crystal finds out. Don’t you understand?” he shouted, frantic. His heart raced, and his blood pounded in his ears.
Jasmira felt like someone just dumped icy water over her. She was confused, but fought to stay focused. She had never seen Jatred panic before, and this sobered her. “Okay,” she whispered. Her mouth was trembling. “But I don’t know if I can. The Amulet… the Goddess.”
She squeezed her eyes. Her breath was shaky and shallow. Her body shimmered in and out, taking on an ethereal appearance then becoming physical again.
“J, what are you doing?” Jatred whispered, frightened. “Look.” His eyes slid to the Amulet dangling down from her fist. The blue stone shone, lit from the inside by a pulsing source of light.
Jatred gripped Jasmira’s hand. This time his fingers didn’t go through like they did before, when she appeared as an illusion. Her body was solid again. She held onto the chain halfway between the jewel and the clasp. The clasp flew open. One side of the chain encircled his wrist. The other part snaked around Jasmira’s wrist. Unexpectedly, it bound them in a vice-like grip. The metal felt as cold as a sheet of ice. They both yelled and tried to pull free, but it wouldn’t budge.
A spiraled script became visible on the jewel’s edge, the symbols shone like liquid gold. The teens frantically tried again to yank their hands away. The runes kept crawling around the gem, barely touching its surface.
“What’s going on? What is this?” Jatred growled. A sudden gust of wind tousled his hair.
“I don’t know. What does it say?” Jasmira shrieked. A storm broke around them. The wind became so strong, it made them stagger. They struggled to stay on their feet, turning their faces away from the wind to breathe.
“The letters look almost Arabic, but that’s not it.” Jatred tugged on the chain once more, this time with both hands.
Jasmira momentarily lost her balance, but regained it quickly. She shouted over the storm, “Stop pulling. It’s not working. Concentrate on getting back to the Human World!”
“What? How—”
“Just do it!” Her features twisted with horror. Sweat trickled down her back, and she shook with panic.
They tore their eyes from the lazily spiraling runes and looked at each other. Jatred saw the Summer Goddess in his peripheral vision and turned his head. But she wasn’t there. A cold fear crept on his sweat-covered skin. He swore and squeezed his eyes. His uncle’s smiling face came to his mind. Jatred whispered hastily, “Imagine someone from the Human World.”
Jasmira concentrated on Penelope’s features, and felt a rush of hot air over her face and body. She heard Jatred grunt in pain, and everything went still.
Excerpt 2
Winter Realm.
Crystal stood motionless, looking like a glittery ice statue. Her eyes rested on Jatred’s frozen form covered by mounds of snow. She was deep in thought, and her face mirrored the turmoil inside her. Two huge ravens—the first Royal couple, Freki and Geri—sat in one of the trees on the edge of the clearing. The Goddess turned her head to look at them. They made a series of clicking noises, then cawed loudly, and sailed down to circle above her head, still croaking. She made an impatient gesture. “You’re annoying.” Her voice sounded clear in the frosty air, although her mouth didn’t move.
The ravens plummeted toward the ground, shifting in mid-air into two huge wolves. The animals landed on their paws. A low growl rumbled in the back of their throats. They walked slowly around Jatred’s frozen shape, their lips curled back.
Crystal watched them in silence for a while. Finally, she said, “I should listen to you and simply eliminate him to remove the danger of the ten-thousand-year mark. The Shifters could choose a new King or a Queen, and the world would be safe again. At least for a while. But I’m getting soft in my old age. ”
One of the wolves, Geri, quietly growled and snapped his jaws dangerously close to Jatred. Freki snarled much louder. Her muzzle wrinkled as she exposed her sharp canines. The Goddess shook her head. Reluctantly, the two animals moved away from Jatred. They walked toward the woods and disappeared between the snow-covered trees.
The Goddess closed her eyes and raised her arms to the sides. Her palms were up, and there was a luminescent moon shape on each of them.
“Jatred, my child,” she said with her mind.
Something in him started to awaken, as if from a deep sleep. Various images began a sluggish parade through his mind.
“Rise.” Crystal moved her arms up.
She became completely visible, looking like a regular young woman—a stunning young woman. Her dark hair glistened in the sun. Small, almost heart-shaped lips stayed motionless. The Amulet around her neck reflected sunrays, sending hundreds of tiny blue specks to dance on her half-covered breasts, bare shoulders, and neck.
She wore a white, knee-length sleeveless cotton dress. The hem was embroidered with tiny, glittering snowflakes, reminiscent of those coming down from a cloudless sky. The top of her white boots’ shafts were turned out, revealing thick silver-white fur. The shafts were embellished with white decorative inlays and stitching.
A thick pillow of snow, covering Jatred’s body, cracked and large chunks started to slide off. Like an ancient warrior, he rose in a slow but determined motion, uncurling his arms and lifting his head. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and looked at Crystal. Jatred tilted his head back and shook his hair, then knelt on one knee.
“My Goddess,” Jatred said in a raspy voice. “Did you summon me?”
Crystal smiled and touched the Amulet. “Do you know what this is?”
“It’s the Amulet.”
“Do you remember you are the one to keep and protect it with your own life?” Crystal continued her investigation.
Jatred’s brows drew together, forcing his smooth forehead to crease. “Yes, I remember. Our Race has it in their possession right now, before it must pass back to the Summer.”
“Do you remember fighting one of my Garhanans?” Crystal’s smile disappeared.
“A Garhanan?” Jatred said the name slowly, shocked. “No. Did I do something wrong?”
“Yes, my child. But you are forgiven.” She looked at him sharply. “Actually, I want you to forget that Garhanan for now.” She slowly moved her hand in front of his face.
Jatred felt as if something cold stabbed at his brain. He winced and squeezed his eyes, staggering to the side.
Crystal seized his wrist and touched her other hand to Jatred’s cheek, making his icy pain subside. She smiled and took his hand in hers. “Now I will send you back to the Human World.”
They walked together, not leaving any tracks in a deep undisturbed snow. From behind, next to the tall broad-shouldered Jatred, the Goddess looked like a slender teenage girl. Soon their bodies started to shimmer and dissolve in the cold, winter air.
Download Forged by Greed on Amazon and Barnes and Noble to read the rest of the story.
- by Tara Maya
Ugly Stick by Joy Givens
Fifteen-year-old April Somerfield is a shy, self-loathing misfit who would blend in with the wallpaper, if only the wallpaper were a little less attractive. In a family line of gorgeous, successful women, April’s a fluke. At Prescott High School, she’s a walking punch line.
A school project sends April on the hunt for her mother’s mysteriously missing yearbooks, and upon finding them she uncovers a big secret. It turns out that being “hit with an ugly stick” is a surprisingly literal occurrence in April’s family tree—a curse has been passed down from mother to daughter for centuries. But when April sees a chance to finally ditch the family curse, she must decide if becoming beautiful on the outside is worth giving up the person she is meant to be.
Download Ugly Stick from Amazon and Barnes and Noble.
Excerpt
We watched from the living room as Mom’s car rolled out of the driveway. Ani wrestled with her typical curiosity for about four seconds before bursting out, “So what’s with your mom and yearbooks?”
“I know, right?” I said, throwing up my hands and dropping onto the couch. “The weirdest part is, when I talked to Grandma, I specifically asked her about Mom’s yearbooks, and she swore Mom has them.”
“What?” Ani said with a gasp. “Your mom lied? Your mom doesn’t lie.”
“I know,” I said, “so I’m kind of freaking out right now.”
Ani sat down next to me. “Have you ever seen a picture of your mom in high school?”
I thought, and suddenly it dawned on me. “I’ve never seen a picture of her from before I was born,” I said slowly. The picture of Mom holding me at three days old, which sat on the shelf a-bove my dresser, between my baby rattle and my old teddy bear, was the earliest picture of Mom that I had ever laid eyes on.
“Not even a wedding picture?” Ani exclaimed.
“No, their photographer forgot to take off the lens cap… oh, snap, do you think that was a lie, too?”
My head was spinning. One little white lie about the whereabouts of Mom’s yearbooks was bad enough, but the thought of her systematically lying to me for most of my life? It made me dizzy.
“Why wouldn’t there be any pictures of her?” Ani mused. “Ooh! Could your parents have been spies or something? Or may-be you’re all in the witness protection program, and you don’t even know it!”
“But my dad puts his picture everywhere for work,” I pointed out. “His name and office phone are on every ‘for sale’ sign he puts out.”
“Have you seen any younger pictures of him?” Ani asked.
“Yeah,” I said, “he’s got a few pictures on his desk of him and his dad on fishing trips and stuff from when he was little.”
“So, what is it about your mom, Apes?” Ani questioned. She laughed suddenly.
“What?” I said.
“I was just thinking it’s funny,” she explained, “that this seems like a mystery your mom might read for work… only it’s about her.”
“Huh. Yeah.” I wrinkled my nose. What would one of Mom’s detectives do? Either look for clues or interview witnesses, I sup-posed. Interviewing anyone was out of the question; Mom wouldn’t talk, and neither would Dad or my grandparents, I expected. That left looking for clues.
I glanced at Ani, who must have been reading my mind. “Attic?” she asked me.
“I’ll grab flashlights,” I said, jumping up and sprinting to the laundry room. We ran up the stairs, through the office, and into the large closet that hid the stairway to the attic.
I only went up there twice a year, to help with Christmas decorating and de-decorating. Our attic was unfinished and cob-webby, with exposed beams and puffy pink insulation poking out here and there. Ani shifted her weight uncomfortably. She was petrified of spiders.
“Where should we start?” I asked, eyeing the stacks of cardboard boxes and plastic bins. “We’ve got an hour, tops.”
Ani and I surveyed the massive hodgepodge doubtfully. “Well, let’s ignore anything marked ‘Christmas,’” I decided aloud, “and focus on things that look like they haven’t been disturbed in a while.”
I felt proud of my limited detective skills. I started pawing through a pile of dust-covered boxes in one corner while Ani gin-gerly worked her way across a metal shelf.
After several minutes of hard labor, I spotted a large, ex-tremely dusty trunk in the corner, behind some of the boxes I had moved. “That looks like it hasn’t been moved in forever… do you think?”
Ani and I approached the trunk, which had a combination lock with four digits slipped through the brass latch on the top. “What should I try?” I whispered. For some reason being hushed seemed necessary.
“Maybe your mom’s birthday?” Ani suggested. I dialed 1-1-2-6. Nothing.
“I’ll try my parents’ anniversary,” I said. I turned the digits to 0-5-3-0. Nothing again.
“Your birthday? Grandparents’ anniversary?” Ani said. I tried my birthday, both 0-2-0-8 and 2-8-9-8, with no result. “Maybe we need to invert the numbers European-style,” she muttered.
If we tried that, we would be spinning dials for hours. I turned the digits to 0-8-0-9, Grandma Jo and Grandpa Frank’s anniversary. It produced a satisfying click, and the lock fell open.
“I can’t believe that worked.” I whispered. I lifted the lid with shaky hands.
What was sitting patiently right on top? None other than an old Nor’easter, upon dozens of books and photo frames.
“Busted!” Ani breathed.
I glanced at the year; Mom must have been a junior then. We ignored the rest of the trunk for the moment and flipped through the pages together.
“K… M… P,” I browsed quickly, looking for the page of juniors that contained my mother’s name. I perused the page line by line for “Pinckley, Diane,” and found it. She should have been the third picture in the row, after “Pilsner, Thomas,” and “Pin-kett, Laura.”
“They made a mistake,” Ani said with a shocked laugh. “That’s not your mother!”
She jabbed her finger at the third face, which, other than being a white female, could not possibly have looked less like my mother. Where there should have been a heart-shaped face, a model’s smile, and a perfect nose between big eyes, there were a heavy jaw, braces, and a beaky nose crowned by enormous glass-es. I had to sit down on the grimy floor, because I suddenly felt faint. This girl looked so much like me and nothing like my mother.
“I don’t think it’s a mistake,” I said weakly. That incredibly unattractive face in the yearbook belonged to my mother, just like I did.
Read the rest of Ugly Stick from Amazon and Barnes and Noble.
- by Tara Maya
Writing Craft: Body Language in Dialogue Scenes
A guest post from Rayne Hall.
Body language can add another dimension to your dialogue scene, because it reveals a person’s intentions, feelings or mood.
The five main types of body language are gesture, posture, movement, facial expression and tone of voice.
Gesture Examples
She pointed to the orchard. “I saw him there.”
He slammed his fist on the table. “I’ve had enough.”
She scratched her chin. “Are you sure this will work?”
“Welcome.” He pointed to the couch. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable?”
Posture Examples
She raised her chin. “You can’t make me do this.”
He locked his arms across his chest. “No way.”
She leant away from him. “This isn’t working between us.”
“I consider this an insult.” He stood with his shoulders squared and his legs braced. “Take it back.”
Movement Examples
“Maybe another time.” He turned to leave.
She walked faster. “I told you I don’t want a date.”
“All right.” He shuffled forward.
“Follow me!” She leaped across the brook.
Facial Expression Examples
Her eyes narrowed. “You expect me to believe this?”
His cheeks turned tomato-red. “What do you mean?”
“I’m sorry.” She stared at the floor. “I didn’t want it to be this way.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled, and his lips twitched. “Really?”
Tone of Voice Examples
“We will stand together in this.” His voice was deep and resonant like a church bell.
“I’ve told you a hundred times, and I’m telling you again.” Her voice sounded like a dentist’s drill, high-pitched and persistent. “Why don’t you ever listen?”
“You know that I’m going to kill you, don’t you?” His sounded as casual as if he were discussing the weather. “Do you prefer a shot in the heart, or the head?”
“You’ve been with that floozy again, you cheating bastard!” Her voice was loud enough to wake up the whole neighbourhood.
Body Language instead of Dialogue Tags
Using body language allows you to cut boring dialogue tags (he said, she asked, he answered) because it shows who’s talking.
Tag versions:
“What about the girl?” he asked.
“Bastards!” she shouted. “I won’t let you get away with this.”
“What now?” he wondered aloud.
Body language versions:
He jerked his chin at her. “What about the girl?”
“Bastards!” She slammed her fist on the table. “I won’t let you get away with this.”
He scratched his head. “What now?”
Point of View
Most people aren’t aware of their body language. Therefore, use body language for the character who is not the PoV.
If the body language is intentional, for example gestures, you can use it for PoV and non-PoV characters.
Lies and Secrets
Advanced writers can use body language to hint at secrets and lies. The characters’ words say one thing, but their body language another.
“Yes, tell me the rest of your life story, it’s so exciting.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s a pleasure to hear all about it.”
He hugged his arms around his chest. “I’m not frightened.”
His face paled. “That’s all right, honey. It doesn’t matter at all.”
If a character avoids eye-contact, this suggests that they’re not telling the truth or are hiding a secret.
“Don’t wait with dinner for me tonight, darling. Arabella and I will have to work late again.” He did not meet Sue’s eyes. “It’s a bore, but the workload is getting heavier every day.”
About Rayne Hall
Rayne Hall has published more than forty books under different pen names with different publishers in different genres, mostly fantasy, horror and non-fiction. Recent books include Storm Dancer (dark epic fantasy novel), 13 British Horror Stories, Six Scary Tales Vol 1, 2, 3, 4 (creepy horror stories), Six Historical Tales (short stories), Six Quirky Tales (humorous fantasy stories), Writing Fight Scenes, The World-Loss Diet, Writing About Villains, Writing About Magic and Writing Scary Scenes (instructions for authors).
She holds a college degree in publishing management and a masters degree in creative writing. Currently, she edits the Ten Tales series of multi-author short story anthologies: Bites: Ten Tales of Vampires, Haunted: Ten Tales of Ghosts, Scared: Ten Tales of Horror, Cutlass: Ten Tales of Pirates, Beltane: Ten Tales of Witchcraft, Spells: Ten Tales of Magic, Undead: Ten Tales of Zombies and more.
Rayne has lived in Germany, China, Mongolia and Nepal and has now settled in a small dilapidated town of former Victorian grandeur on the south coast of England.
- by Tara Maya
Devour by Andrea Heltsley
He wasn’t supposed to remember.
Callie is a royal vampire. She hunts by taking the blood from her victims and erases their memories afterwards. She goes undetected until a victim named Chase approaches her with all his memories intact. He is intrigued and attracted. She is terrified. What happens when a human mixes with the immortal world? Chaos.
Callie’s 18th birthday has passed and she is coming out at the annual blood ball. Will she find a mate or will she suffer the repercussions of her indiscretion? She is brought to the Vampire council and they must decide what to do with Chase. Do they kill him, or turn him to protect their secret?
Download Devour on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo and Smashwords.
Excerpt
Jane pulls me out of my thoughts as she leans in and points over to the bar. I grasp her arm tightly. It is him, the guy. He’s so much better than I was picturing in my mind.
Leaning into her and yelling in her ear, only one simple word slips out. “Mine.”
She just laughs and nods. “It’s a good thing you get first dibs tonight. That boy is freaking hot. I can almost see the smoke coming off of him. Yummy.”
I ignore her, knowing I’ve already won. If Jane is anything, she’s loyal. Pulling away from her, my focus is heading down towards the bar. Jane’s more than capable of taking care of herself. I trust that she will find her own sexy stud tonight and we have a set time to meet back at the car. The time is always the same, midnight.
With our persuasion powers, we don’t need much more time than that. Two hours is plenty of time for the hunt and the feeding.
This guy becomes more defined as I move closer to him. He has short, messy, brown hair that screams rebel. His creamy skin is flawless, aside from a tiny scar above his left eye. I can see his sinewy muscles through his thin, grey tee-shirt as my approach inches closer. Then he turns and our eyes meet. I gasp.
My violet eyes take in the sight before me. I’m shocked to see how clear his blue eyes are. They remind me of the ocean on a sunny day. His features and jawline are strong yet approachable. He has a couple days scruff that looks sexy as hell on him. Feeling my jaw drop, I appreciate this dreamy guy.
As he moves closer, he quirks a smile and I want to melt. Wow, he is super-hot. I’m thrilled to have found him so quickly tonight. I get the weird feeling that he’s definitely dangerous. Shaking off the feeling and continuing toward him, the stars align.
Just when I get within earshot, he steps forward, bringing us inches from each other. I have to halt instantly at the smell that is wafting off of him. He smells delish. There’s no way to even begin to describe how addicting that smell could be for me.
I have to stop my mouth from watering and my fangs from descending. It’s a struggle but my instincts manage. I smile back and lean in the rest of the way, moving towards his ear.
“My name is Callie. Whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?”
I lean back and wait for him to make his move. When he does, he cups my neck and brushes his lips against my ear. Goosebumps erupt across my skin as he says, “I’m Chase. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Callie. Would you like a drink?”
I shake my head no and take his hand in mine. His skin is callused, like he works with his hands a lot. Mm, sexy is all that I think as my mind is picturing him sweaty from working. Gah, I have to get my mind out of the gutter and focus.
Giving him a come hither smile, he follows me onto the dance floor. Turning around, he’s already closed the gap between us and has his body inches from mine. Once again, I struggle to remain in control. This is so unlike me. I want to taste him, take his blood right now. I’m so thirsty suddenly.
Brushing my hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ears, the distance closes between us. He puts his arms around my shoulders and we begin to dance to the techno beat. My body arches into him as we move.
Briefly looking up to where I left Jane, I realize she is no longer there, but I know she is okay. Returning my focus to Chase, I release one of my trademark smiles. He lets his hands slide across my body and it’s my turn to dance against him.
He spins me around so that my back is pressed to his chest. The feel of his hands exploring my stomach and then finally gripping my waist, is intense. After throwing my head back against him, he grips me tighter. His breath on my neck sends goose bumps across my body. I let out a little sigh. This is heaven and couldn’t have gone better.
Finally, the song is done and I peer over my shoulder at him. He winks at me and causes me to almost swoon. It’s too bad he won’t remember me tomorrow. Once I erase his memories of this night, I’ll be forgotten.
For the first time ever, it makes me sad to think he won’t remember me. I’m torn between wanting him to remember and knowing I can’t let him. It would be breaking all the rules and the vampire council would be all over me. That’s something no one would dare risk.
Returning my focus to Chase, he pulls me off the dance floor. Our hands are twined together and the anticipation between us is palpable. Despite knowing it’s impossible to be with a human; I can’t help but feel that he’s different somehow.
He smells so yummy that I have to rein myself in as I pull closer to him. As I do, I discretely look down to see what time it is. It is only eleven o’clock, but I am unnerved by this human and his smell is driving me wild. I’m ready to do this.
I moisten my lips and slowly tip my head up, watching as his gaze lowers and he looks at me intently. Boldly, I use my other hand to fist his tee shirt at his chest and close what little distance remains between us.
- by Tara Maya
Pigments of My Imagination by Angela Kulig
From the moment Lucia steps into Bayside Art Academy, she is fed a steady stream of lies, but it’s not until she meets William that she begins to question the people she trusts. Unraveling fact from fabrication seems impossible until Lucia finds her first painting, and discovers the dead do not lie–at least not to her.
A dozen lifetimes ago, Lucia started a war. Not a war with armies or guns, but a bloody war nonetheless. The path leading Lucia to the truth is hidden within lovely art that spans the ages. In this life, however, Lucia doesn’t know where to look. Lost, she turns to the one thing she knows with certainty–she is in love with Leo, and has been before
Download Pigments of My Imagination on Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Kobo. You can also purchase it in paperback.
Excerpt
It was hard for Lucia to see around the boy that stood before the easel, but she swore the birds on his canvas just moved. Large white birds, so detailed she was convinced moved. Large white birds, so detailed she was convinced if she stroked them they would be softer than in real life. From her position in the doorway, the feathers shone in the classroom lights as if they were in the summer sun. They were swans, she realized as she bent her neck to get a better look.This boy couldn’t be a student. He could have been younger than she was, but he painted with all the skill of a master. No ordinary kid could paint a pool of blue that could really ripple below flawless webbed feet.She might have stood there forever, her mind going numb from the sheer impossibility of it—eyes wide, watching the taut muscles of his back. He moved his arm quick and precise, making one stroke after another, his light brown curls falling to the base of his neck, shaking from the effort of his work. She needed him to turn around; she needed to see his face. She needed to know if he was real.He couldn’t be! And she mentally slapped herself. Two boys in ten minutes?
She opened her mouth to speak to him just as one of the swans gave a loud honk. Lucia watched as it pulled itself effortlessly into the starry sky of the painting and she gasped, throwing her hands up to her mouth.
At first, she was convinced she had caused the boy to ruin his beautiful painting. Only with odd control, and a loud sigh, he raised his arm and sliced a large midnight blue line across the whole of the canvas, stilling the birds with one stroke.
“It’s not nice to stare,” he said without turning around.
His voice sounded cold, but it was pleasant, and it hinted at how nice it would sound if he weren’t furious.
In Lucia’s mind a nice apology was forming, but those were not the words she wanted to say.
“How did you do that?” she asked, because how could she not?
The blue diagonal line that had ended the dance of the swans dripped from the weight of the thick paint. He did not answer.
“I thought,” he finally said. “That this was an advanced art school. Clearly, you should be familiar with how one paints.”
He was antagonizing her, and it made self-doubt creep up through the floor and back into her heart. Of course she knew how to paint, but as far as she was concerned, what he had been doing was impossible and she huffed. A burst of hot hair shot out from her wet lips, and the boy chuckled before turning around.
He stared at her, with his light blue eyes just like the reflective bits on the pond he had just painted, and for the briefest moment Lucia thought they had widened in surprise. There was something so familiar about this odd occurrence, just like there had been with the other boy. Had she dreamed this whole thing before?
“No,” Lucia breathed. “How did you make them move?”