Since it’s almost time for all the holiday hoopla, I thought I’d give you a little snippet of what I’m working on right now, Residual Magic. I wish I could say that it was because I was being nice but you know better than that. Its because I’m tired from all the baking, shopping, wrapping, and cleaning. I’ve got nothing else to share. So, with no further ado, here’s your snippet:
This is an unedited excerpt. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
“What two cents? I have no money,” Wynne replied, confused and a part of me smiled to myself. Having been stuck in a vast wasteland of desert and mirrors the succubus-witch had dubbed the in-between for more than a millennium, sometimes Wynne’s understanding of colloquialisms wasn’t up to scratch. “Either way, it doesn’t change the fact that you are young and stupid. How many times have you cried over that boy? Too many to count by my opinion.” She huffed at me as if I was wasting her time. All she had was time. Plus, I was pretty sure she secretly loved it. I’d come to understand that Wynne liked to be needed. Who didn’t though? That was the point, wasn’t it? I wanted to be wanted and needed and it didn’t seem like Ev wanted or needed me that badly. A thought suddenly occurred to me. Maybe Tag did.
“Well, you’ll be glad to know that I have a date tonight,” I said, my chin high. When she stared at me, the words clearly not registering in her mind I added, “I’m going to be spending time with someone tonight . . . a man.”
“The boy finally became a man,” she grumbled and this time I wasn’t so sure she’d intended for me to hear her.
“Ev?” I asked, confused but continued on, “No, Tag. I’m going to dinner with Tag.”
“The soul stealer?” she asked and I could hear the surprise and disgust in her voice. I could almost see her bright blue eyes the size of saucers in astonishment.
“Wynne,” I sighed. “Red heads don’t steal souls. They just don’t. But you know who does?” I asked and she was quiet for a moment, waiting. “Succubi. Succubi steal souls and that’s you.” When she didn’t respond – because I had her on that one – I said, “Tag is a nice guy. He’s steady. And he wants me.”
“Ahh,” she responded in a way that made my blood boil, as if she saw everything and I clearly saw nothing.
“Ahh? What does ahhh mean?” I hissed, angry now. It felt good to be angry and show it. Turns out, I’d been angry for a while.
“Nothing,” she clipped, pleased with herself. “Just . . . ahh. Have fun on your . . . date,” she said with a snide lilt. And in the blink of an eye, she was gone, retreating back into her amulet to let me stew. I hated when she did that. She put just enough doubt in my head to make me second guess everything. Wynne was just mean.
“I will!” I snapped at her, knowing full well she wasn’t listening. I plopped down on my bed and sighed. I would have a good time with Tag. I always had a good time with Tag. We were friends and I wouldn’t let Wynne’s nagging doubts cast a shadow on our date. This wouldn’t be weird at all.