Today Musical Musings topic is: IF YOU COULD DEFINE YOURSELF WITH A SONG, WHAT WOULD IT BE AND WHY?

Okay, seriously, this was hard. I've been pondering this for a while, knowing this was coming, and I'm still having a hard time summing up me in a song. But...I'm gonna share a song anyway. Not the perfect "Jess" song (still on the hunt for that!), but it's close.

I've chosen Matchbox 20's "Bent". Here are the lyrics:

If I fall along the way
Pick me up and dust me off
And if I get too tired to make it
Be my breath so I can walk

If I need some other love, then
Give me more than I can stand
And when my smile gets old and faded
Wait around I'll smile again

Shouldn't be so complicated
Just hold me and then
Oh, just hold me again

Can you help me I'm bent
I'm so scared that I'll never
Get put back together
Keep breaking me in
And this is how we will end
With you and me bent

If I couldn't sleep, could you sleep?
Could you paint me better off?
Could you sympathize with my needs?
I know you think I need a lot

I started out clean but I'm jaded
Just phoning it in
Oh, just breaking the skin

Can you help me I'm bent
I'm so scared that I'll never
Get put back together
Keep breaking me in
And this is how we will end
With you and me bent

Start bending me, it's never enough
As I feel all your pieces
Start bending me, keep bending me
Oh, until I'm completely broken in

Shouldn't be so complicated
Just touch me and then
Oh, just touch me again

Can you help me I'm bent
I'm so scared that I'll never
Get put back together
Keep breaking me in
And this is how we will end
With you and me will let them
Without understanding
Here I go there again

Can you help me I'm bent
I'm so scared that I'll never
Get put back together
Yeah, you're breaking me in
And this is how we will end
With you and me bent

Why this one? Not having a pity party here, promise. But this definiely sums up how I've felt at many points in my life. Bent, broken, and pretty sure I was alone. But I wasn't. I had people touching my life, holding me up, helping me put myself back together. Just needed to remember that, and I'm sure there will be times in the future I'll need that reminder again.


Bronwyn Green

3 Comments

It's time for another promptly penned - we all start with the same prompt and see what we come up with. This is part of an idea I have floating around in my head... The actual prompt is in bold within the fic. 🙂


“Ma’am, you can’t go down there.”

Cecilia froze at the loud announcement. Then, mortification washed hotly over her body as she realized her leg was still hiked up in the air. Like a damned dog about to take a piss on a hydrant. And wasn’t this just the fucking cherry on this perfect shit sundae of a night?

Lowering her foot back to the ground, she took a deep breath and tried to reclaim even a fraction of dignity. Coming up woefully short—and getting to the point she really didn’t even care anymore—she turned.

“The floor down that aisle has just been washed and waxed. You can’t go down there.” The store employee rolled his eyes then, with a sneer, added, “That’s why there’s tape there...ma’am.”

Fisting her hands, Cecilia focused on the bit of her nails in her palms and counted to ten. She didn’t need this. She just wanted this night to be done. She’d escaped dinner her parents, their meddling, the ambush of her cheating ex…

“Look,” she said, trying to keep the sharpness out of her voice, “I only need to grab one thing and—”

Ma’am.” Well, he certainly wasn’t trying to keep anything out of his voice. “You cannot go down there.”

“I just—”

“It’s a liability issue,” he continued, talking right over her. “We can’t risk a customer injuring themselves, which is why we have the tape up. Please move along, ma’am.”

Annoyance flared, and Cecilia took a deep breath, and even as she opened her mouth to speak, she knew she was going to regret this come tomorrow. Hell, come ten minutes from now, but she was simply out of fucks to give.

“All right.” She bit out each word, glaring at the pimply-faced, condescending child lecturing her. “Then, why don’t you hop on over and grab me a package of toilet paper, so I can ‘move along’?”

“I can’t do that, ma’am.” He folded his hands in front of him.

“You can’t do that?” she repeated. “All right. Can you tell me where else in this store stocks toilet paper? You are a twenty-four-hour store, aren’t you?” she said quickly before he could answer. “I should be able to come in here, at any point during the twenty-four freaking hours of the day, and be able to get what I need, right? That’s the point of this place, isn’t it? If a customer can't even count on being able to—”

Her throat tightened suddenly, cutting off her tirade, and her vision blurred. Well, this was it. She’d hit Rock Bottom. Yelling at a kid about toilet paper in the middle of the grocery store… Yeah, Rock fucking Bottom.

“There’s no need to raise your voice,” the employee hissed. “I’m s—”

“Whatever.” Cecilia shook her head frantically and, fighting the emotions choking her, spun on her heel.

Get out, get out, just get out, was all that ran through her mind as she rushed from the store and hurried across the lot to her car. Breath hitching painfully, hands shaking, she pulled her keys from her purse…and promptly dropped them.

“Fuck.” She twisted and, back against the car, slid down until she landed on her ass. “Get a hold of yourself,” she muttered.

So, it had been a shitty day. People had shitty days and didn’t freak out at innocent—albeit annoying—grocery store employees over stupid things. She swallowed thickly. Okay, it was more than just a shitty day. It’d been a series of shitty days…weeks…hell, months. And every time she thought she had a handle on things, that she was making some sort of progress and getting back on track, something or someone came along and knocked her for a loop.

Tonight was just another one of those times. She hadn’t expected Nick to show up at her parents’ house. She sure as hell hadn’t expected to learn they had invited him. Or to have them plead his case for reconciliation.

She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. They’d backed her lying, cheating asshole of an ex-husband. Accused her of being selfish and unreasonable. How did she deal with that? Where did she even start? By freaking out in public, apparently. She laughed—a strangled, desperate sound that quickly morphed into a sob she tried desperately to pull back inside.

“Oh, hey, now.”

Cecilia startled at the deep voice and, dropping her hands, found herself staring into the clearest blue eyes she’d ever seen. Eyes that seemed even bluer for the smudged black lining them. She couldn’t move, couldn’t make her mouth form words as she took in the man crouching in front of her—his shaggy black hair, pierced ears…and lip...his dark shirt with the sleeves rolled up to expose lean forearms, his long almost elegant fingers and the simple silver rings adorning them, his tight black jeans…

“That bastard certainly isn’t worth your tears, caridad,” he continued, voice low and soothing, a hint of an accent she couldn’t quite place. Not British…not exactly. He tilted his head to the side, his full lower lip caught between straight white teeth, and studied her a moment.

“Though, I’m guessing this,” he gestured from her head downward, “isn’t simply because of some loo rolls or a bratty kid with his head up his arse.”

When she continued staring, silently, he sighed. “Well, I can help with one of your problems tonight.” He held up a package of toilet paper and grinned. “Jumped his blasted tape when he wasn’t looking. Can’t have a pretty girl going without the necessities, now, can we?”

Cecilia pressed her lips together, unsure exactly what she was feeling. Whatever it was, whatever this man, with his blue, blue eyes and simple kind act, was pulling from her, it was overwhelming. Almost too much after…after everything. She tried to calm down, to thank him. Then, he reached out and laid his hand on her shoulder. And, she promptly burst into tears.

Well, shit. Apparently, Rock Bottom has a basement, and Cecilia had just tumbled headlong into it.


Bronwyn Green | Gwendolyn Cease | Kris Norris

2 Comments

Posting late - was camping over the Fourth with the family...

Okay, so top 10 quotes from movies, shows and songs. It's hard to just do 10, to be honest. It's just the tip of the iceberg... But here we go...

10 -

Friends

9 -

Parks & Rec

8 -

Pride & Prejudice

7 -

Merlin

6 -

Hamilton

5 -

Parks & Rec

4 -

Friends

3 -

Merlin

2 -

Parks & Rec

1 - 

Merlin

Aaaaanad a bonus -

Hamilton


Bronwyn Green | Deelylah Mullin | Gwendolyn Cease | Kris Norris

4 Comments

How on earth is it halfway through 2017??

I don't even know how to start this post. I guess the best way is to just be honest about it, eh? This year hasn't been a great one as far as writing goes. Finding the balance still continues to be a challenge for me. To the point that I was seriously considering just quitting. Not writing anymore.  I wasn't in a good place. All I saw were all the obstacles to writing, and I wasn't seeing a way around them at all. All I could think of were the books and projects I'd promised and hadn't delivered on... Felt a bit hopeless, to be honest, and thought it'd just be better to stop trying and failing.

But I'm pretty damned lucky with the people I have in my life. Besides having a great husband who let me vent and cry when frustrated and sad and overwhelmed, I have an amazing group of friends. I just got back from an annual writing retreat with four of those awesome friends. While I didn't break any records on words writing while there, it was exactly what I needed.

I had distance from everything that was pulling at me and making it hard to think straight. I was with other writers who face just as many, if not more, challenges as I do making writing fit in their lives. I had time to relax and just be. And I had the opportunity to be a writer. To remind myself that this is who I am. And to remember that I'm allowed to put writing first. I'm allowed to say no to other things. I'm allowed to do something for me.

So that's it, really. I'm not going to focus on words/pages/scenes written the past six months (or not written). I'm looking forward...with the knowledge that I'm going to be a writer again. I get to take the next six months of the year making writing my priority again.

With that in mind, I've set some goals for myself for the next half of 2017. No looking back, just looking ahead.

  • Write daily. And make it first! I will work on my writing first thing after I wake, before I jump into all the other stuff. I'm not focusing on the numbers here. Just writing daily - building that habit again.
  • Get back to the self-care routine I had. Yeah, that's another thing that went by the wayside when things got nuts. Probably not a coincidence things just kept getting worse when I really wasn't taking care of myself at all. Time to get back on that.
  • Complete all scheduled blog posts.
  • Reach out when things do get overwhelming. Shouldering it myself and isolating myself sure as hell doesn't help. Need to do things differently.


Bronwyn Green | Deelylah Mullin |Torrance Sené

4 Comments

Okay, so i totally cheated. This is definitely not wordless. I'm enjoying my week with one of my besties, the awesome Kris Norris. She's here visiting before we head off to retreat. So I'm putting this post together early and scheduling it since I'll be in the land of little to no connection for the week.

SATURDAY - This lovely mug was a gift from Norris. Oh, Canada, eh! 

SUNDAY - Puppy is so sad her daddy has left on another trip. Looking at me with those sad, sad eyes...heartbreaking.

MONDAY - Norris and I MAY be binge watching The Night Shift. o.O We have no regrets. None!

TUESDAY - Made Slutty Brownies....becasue my weather app (WTForecast) said it was a good day to make them.

WEDNESDAY - Had to educate Bron on what a keener was via text.

THURSDAY - I think....I THINK we've gotten enough pop for the week... (Don't judge! Even though I judge myself... LOL) 

FRIDAY  - Had to hit Applebee's for lunch...it's "our place" - mine, my hub's and Norris' LOL


Bronwyn Green | Deelylah Mullin | Kris Norris

4 Comments

June's song flash fiction is inspired by one of my favorite songs - Mumford and Sons' "Ghosts That We Knew".

I've jumped in the world of my Arthurian series "Albion's Circle" for this one. I've done a few flash fictions in this world, if you want to take a look.

Merlin's Cave
"The Hammer's Coming Down"
"I Will Possess Your Heart"
The Coldness
"Ever the Same"


“Promise me.”

Gut churning sourly, I stared at Guinevere—lying on the bed, frail and fading, almost lost amidst the bedclothes. My queen, my friend, the only one I had left. But soon, she’d be leaving me. Just like the others. Then, I’d be well and truly alone. Left with the ghosts of everyone I’d ever loved.

“Merlin.” Her voice, weak and raspy washed over me as she grabbed my hand. “Please. Please, you have to promise me.”

“I already did,” I reminded her quietly, reaching out to cup her face. “You don’t need to worry. I’ll take care of everything. All the arrangements are in place. Everything wil be as you want it. I promise.”

Her lips curved ,and she leaned into my touch. “I’m tired. I’m ready to be with them again.”

Them. I closed my eyes against the wave of pain thinking of our friends, long gone. Morgana, Lancelot, Galahad and the rest of the knights. Arthur. My throat tightened. Annwyl.

So many lost to us. Years and years of loss—lifetime—until it was just the two of us. We did the best we could—Guinevere ruling the kingdom after Arthur fell in battle, hoping he would be proud of her. He would have, of course. I never doubted that, even if she did, at times. Guinevere had a strength to be envied and had never wavered. Not when she'd lost her husband and king. Not when, years later, she'd lost her lover.

“You will come?” she asked, her thin aged fingers squeezing mine. “It’s time, don’t you agree? Long past time, I believe.”

I opened my eyes and met her weary gaze. Unlike my dear friend, I had not endured the pain of loss so well. In the final battle against Mordred—so long ago, although it was still so fresh in my old mind—I’d lost so muchmore than I’d been prepared to lose. Not only had I watched my king, my best friend ,struck down by our enemy, but my love, my Annwyl had been lost as well. And it had been my fault. My magic that had drained the life from her. Faced with that, I’d gone mad. I’d lost the control I’d always taken such pride in.

Technically, the battle had been won, but I’d retreated. First, without choice. Dragged away by Morgana and Galahad while I raged against the twisted turn of fate after everything we had been through and everything we had sacrificed. Then, I’d stayed away, remained alone, because how could I return? A Camelot without Arthur, without Annwyl was unthinkable. But eventually, when my queen needed me, I’d made the city my home once again. I played the role of advisor and friend and supporter, just as Arthur and Annwyl would have wanted.

In all that time, though, I’d never visited their final resting place. Guinevere had gone against tradition, ignored her council, and refused to bury Arthur with his ancestors. The Circle would be together for eternity, in both life and death, she had decided, and no one would sway her.

Now, she was to take her place with Arthur, Lancelot, Galahad, and Morgana.

“You need to make your peace, Merlin. Before it’s too late and you’re joining us in rest.”

“The rest is only temporary.” I lifted a shoulder lazily, despite the tension stiffening my body. “All too soon, we’ll be back together, alive and well.”

“And back into danger,” she added, dark eyes shining and lips curving.

I nodded. That was the deal we’d struck, after all, to gain the power we'd needed to defeat Mordred and his army. The Circle had been formed. Defenders of the world against Magical threats. Brought back again and again when we were needed. Christ, I was exhausted at the prospect, though my heart raced at the thought of the reunion with our loved ones.

Silence settled over us for several minutes. Guinevere’s grip on my hand loosened, and she closed her eyes. I watched, having to blink back stinging tears often, as her breathing gradually slowed.

Suddenly, her fingers tightened, and eyes still shut, she spoke, barely above a whisper, “You’ll come, won’t you? You wouldn’t deny an old woman her final request, would you?”

“Oh, but I would. Easily.” Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I shifted to lean over her and pressed my lips to her forehead. “But deny a friend? Never.”

I settled back in the hard chair, body aching and feeling every year I’d lived on this earth. Every damned minute of existence. But I would not complain. As much as I dreaded being alone, being the last of our people left, I would see Guinevere though her final journey…of this life, at least. And I would keep my promise.

Three days later, I stood just outside Camelot, where the rest of the Circle had been laid to rest. Still numb with the grief, I traced my fingers over the sun-warned stones marking the newest grave.

“Goodbye, Guinevere,” I whispered before moving down the line. I pressed my hand more fully on the next pile of stones and nearly choked. “Arthur… I saw her through until the end, my king. She was everything you always said she was and so much more. The queen Camelot needed after…after everything.”

I closed my eyes for a brief moment and took several deep breaths. Then, I forced myself to continue, touching Morgana’s, Lancelot’s and Galahad’s graves, silent but my mind filled with memories.

Coming to the final marker, I began to shake. I lowered myself painfully to my knees and pressed my forehead against the cool stones. The shaking intensified, and as I gasped for air, I realized I was sobbing. Unable to hold it in any longer. I was finally as alone as I’d always felt since the moment I lost her. My Annwyl.

“I love you,” I whispered hoarsely. “I never wanted to be without you… My only thought is joining you, love. There’s nothing left for me here in this world, in this life.”

But for now… I sighed and pushed to my feet. For now, I had no choice. I would live with the memories, the ghosts , with my regrets, and with the promise of the day I’d be with Annwyl and my friends again.


Bronwyn Green | Deelylah Mullin | Kris Norris |Siobhan Muir 

3 Comments

It's time for another promptly penned - we all start with the same prompt and see what we come up with. This is part of an idea I have floating around in my head... The actual prompt is in bold within the fic. 🙂


Before I even got to the front door, I felt something was...off. And lately, with everything happening - my life being pretty much turned upside down - I'd learned to trust my gut. When I saw the door ajar, I stopped and lifted my arm to the side, stopping my sister in her tracks.

"What?" she said loudly.

"Go wait in the car," I ordered. When she shoved at my arm and tried to move forward, I grabbed her elbow and added, "Now, Char!"

"Why?"

I pointed and watched as she looked up at the door. Her eyes widened and she turned to me.

"Why is it just me going to the car, then, you dumbass?" she hissed, reversing our positions, her hand now clutching my biceps, fingers digging in hard. Looks like I'd have some colorful bruises. Again.

"I'm going to go check it out," I explained, pulling from her grasp. "Just go back to the car."

"No way," she protested, as I made my way up the steps onto the porch.

I pushed opened the door and stepped inside the dark house. My eyes adjusted immediately, and I surveyed what I could see from the entryway. It wasn't a big house - a tiny two bedroom rambler with an open floor plan, so I could pretty much see everything except the bedroom and bathroom. Nothing seemed out of place, and there wasn't anyone in sight.

"Cam! Seriously, let's go. What are you going to do if there's still someone here?"

Damn it, she was right behind me. Of course she didn't listen. Because she never did. I turned slightly and stared at her hovering in the doorway. I sighed when I saw her pale face and worried expression. Shit.

"Go to the car," I tried again. "Until I know it's safe."

"What about you? What the hell are you going to do if there's someone..." Her gaze darted around, and she lowered her voice. "If there's someone here? ."

I snorted. Charlotte may still me as her geeky little brother who'd been bullied all through school, who ran from rather than confronting anything physically threatening, but so much had changed. I was more than capable of taking care of myself against anything and anyone. Not that I could do much with her on my ass. Because she didn't know...

I didn't say anything for a while, just listened to the silence of my surroundings, trying to figure if somone was actually there in the house with us. I didn't think so, but if I was wrong, she was at risk.

"Just call the police, okay?" she continued with a huff. "No one has time for your Nancy Drew shenanigans!"

"Nancy Drew?" I shot her a weak glare. "At least call me a fucking Hardy boy, Char."

"Whatever."

"I don't think anyone's here," I said calmly. "But just wait in the car while I check the rest of the house. If I'm not out in five, call 911."

"No way," she said again. "I'm not leaving you alone."

Damned her and her protective and stubborn tendencies. Though, it was definitely a shared trait so it was probably a bit hypocritical to fault her there.

"Well, stay back at least."

"Whatever you say, Nancy."

I didn't dignify that with an answer and started walking across the living room toward the bedrooms.

"Use your phone for a light, so you can see." she whispered.

I cursed under my breath. Right. It was dark as fuck, and I shouldn't be able to see as well as I did. I dug my phone from my pocket and turned the flashlight app on. Without speaking, I made my way to the first bedroom - easy enough to clear since there was only a desk and a couple of boxes I had yet to unpack in there.  Not much to see in the empty bathroom either.

The door to my bedroom was shut. I hadn't closed it when I left. I took a deep breath as I grasped the doorknob. Turning it, I pushed inside the room. I listened carefully and glanced around the room. No one was here. Though I was sure of that, I still opened the closet and looked inside.

I walked back and flipped on the light, calling out to Charlotte. "No one's here."

I heard her shut the front door, followed by the thunk of the deadbolt sliding home.

"You're still calling the police, right? Is anything missing?"

My gaze fell on my dresser, and my heart pounded wildly. Heat rolled over my body and my palms grew damp. No. No way. No fucking way. I stumbled the two steps to the grab the sheet of paper that lay on the wooden surface. Right where the stupid stuffed bear had rested. The bear he had won me on our first and only date.

Fingers shaking, I read the words scrawled across the paper.

Miss me, darling?


Bronwyn Green |Deelylah Mullin | Kris Norris

2 Comments

10 - Netflix marathons - Because I gotta catch up, yo. Just a few of the places I go...

9 - Cleaning - My house is never so clean as it is when a deadline is looming.

8 - Social Media

7 - Organizing - yes, it's totally different than cleaning. LOL Everything could be gleaming and I'll be orgazing all of the drawers and cabinets and shelves...whether they need it or not.

6 - Planning - There comes a point that I will plan everything. And I mean everything. Menu plans for weeks and weeks to come, projects that I will not be working on any time soon... It makes me feel like I'm being productive when I'm really avoiding what I should be working on it. It helps me justify the procrastination... 

5 - Calling everyone - though I'm lucky that most my ppl? They call me on that tactic. And yet...still do it. o.O

4 - Second-guessing everything I've done so far and freaking out - There is a point that I always get to that I freak out, am pretty sure everything I have is utter doody and I have to scrap everything and start all over. This is my least favorite place to be.

3 - Cooking/Baking - I like to cook and bake anyway, but if I'm procrastinating, I may go overboard.. At least we get to eat the results...

2 - Naps 

1 - Reading - I read lots and lots of books and dirty, dirty fanfiction. And I'm not even sorry. Really, really not.


Bronwyn Green | Deelylah Mullin | Kris Norris

5 Comments

Today's photo fic takes place in the world of my poor neglected serial "Your Lies".


I sat in the coffee shop, ignoring the buzzing of my phone—been doing that since the conversation with Mom earlier. When I’d told her I wasn’t going to stop seeing Maddock Roberts, that he wasn’t the enemy. Not the way Mom thought he was. Sure, his family embodied the anti-magic movement, but Maddock wasn’t like that. Yeah, when we’d met, he was leading anti-magic rallies on campus and seemed to think along the same lines as his parents, but that had changed. He listened to what I said, what my friends said. He wasn’t unreasonable.

Though he didn’t know I was a magic user. While I didn’t think he was as bad as his family or his friends, I wasn’t at the point I’d out myself that way. I wasn’t stupid. Despite what Mom thought.

I understood where she was coming from. She was worried. I totally got that. But what she was doing—calling and texting constantly to tell me I need to come home, calling Kyle so he was constantly harassing me too. It was infuriating. The last straw though? Finding out she had someone basically spying on me and reporting back to her. This morning was the first time I’d talked to Mom in a week after finding out that little tidbit. And the worst part? She wasn’t even sorry. Not even a little. Just dove right back into how unsafe it was on campus, especially with Maddock in the picture. I’d hung up on her. Felt a little guilty about that—until she kept calling and texting, and within an hour, Kyle was doing the same.

“Hey.”

I jolted and felt my face heat as I met Maddock’s clear green gaze. Shit, I’d lost complete track of time and been too caught up in my thoughts to notice when he’d walked in.

“Hi,” I said, cursing the breathlessness of my voice—though it was a regular occurrence.

Whenever I saw him, the emotions I felt for him were like a punch in the gut. Not to mention my magic swelling, practically reaching for him every time he was near. It was why I wasn’t willing to give this—give him—up with without a fight. Even if a small part of me could concede this was likely going to end poorly…especially when he found out about me. Did that make me naïve? Mom and Kyle would say yes, obviously. But I didn’t think so—not when I was prepared for that possibility. Not when I was going to protect myself for the eventuality that he was going to know that I was the thing his family hated, the very thing he spent his whole life fearing and speaking out against.

“Ready to take off?” He frowned when my phone skittered across the tabletop, even more so when I hit ignore and shoved it into my pocket.

“Yep.” I snagged my backpack, slinging it over my shoulder as I stood.

He grabbed my hand, tangling our fingers, and together, we walked out of the café into the cool night.

“So, still not talking to your mom?” he said softly, after we’d gone a few blocks toward campus.

I sighed. He knew I was upset with her. Knew it kind of had to do with him. Not the full extent of it, of course—I’d let him assume that it was because we were Sympathizers while his family was very vocal in the anti-magic movement.

“I talked to her this morning,” I admitted. “She just didn’t like what I had to say.”

“I don’t like being the cause of problems between you and your mom.”

“You’re not. Really,” I said quickly when he opened his mouth to protest. “She doesn’t even know you, so it’s not you. She isn’t happy she can no longer control what I do. That’s what it comes down.”

He hummed, lips turned down, and squeezed my hand. The hairs on the back of neck suddenly stood on end, and an energy I didn’t recognize slid along my skin. I looked over my shoulder and saw a young woman about my age, with long dark hair, dressed all in black, walking behind us, a cell to her ear. She spoke in a low tone, but now I was aware, I caught a few words—yes, with him…will see where they…will keep you updated—and anger rose swiftly, to the point I nearly gagged on it. I came to an abrupt stop and letting go of Maddock’s hand, spun around.

The woman stopped, too, just as she was pocketing her phone. She stared, wide-eyed at me, mouth hanging open slightly.

“I told her to call you off,” I bit out, shoving down the power that snapped inside me, aching to get out of the confines of my skin.

“What?”

I rolled my eyes at the forced smile and fake confusion. “Since she’s not getting the message, I’ll tell you. No more spying for my mother. Back the fuck off of me. If I see you again…”

I let the implied threat hang in the air, not willing to say more with Maddock standing right there. And honestly, I didn’t exactly know what I would do but it wasn’t going to be pretty, damn it!

The confusion—which didn’t look so fake anymore—clouded her face for a moment longer then cleared.

Before she could speak again, though, Maddock took several steps forward. “Get the—” And nearly fell back onto his ass when she had no problems revealing her power on the dark, nearly deserted street.

The intense energy radiated off her, sparking off her open palms, lifting her hair wildly. My magic nearly suffocated, pushing out, out, out. Wanting to answer the blatant show, desperate to protect. Protect the man beside me with a desperation I’d never felt.

“Don’t threaten me, Maddock Roberts,” she sneered. “I would have no problem eliminating the problem you pose to us. It would be easier than you could imagine.”

I moved forward, placing myself between them, staring into the woman’s dark eyes. “It would be harder than you imagine.”

“You would align yourself with him? He would see all of us caged like animals!”

“You don’t know him,” I shot back. “Leave now.”

In a blink, she pulled her magic back and straightened to full height. “You’re going to regret this, Delia,” she said.

I frowned at her words, at her tone. It was a warning, yes, but she didn’t sound threatening. She sounded…sad, resigned.

“You don’t know him either,” she continued. “His family. This is going to end badly—for you more than any of us. He can’t be trusted.”

I shook my head, almost violently. “You’re wrong. And you can tell my mother that.”

She chuckled hollowly, backing up a few steps. “Don’t know your mother, but if she’s trying to stop this,” she gestured between Maddock and myself, “she’s smart, and you should listen to her. Listen to Kyle. Choose who you associate with more care, before it’s too late.”

With that, she turned and walked away.

“Kyle? He sent you?” I called after her. I got no answer, except a quick glance as she turned a corner out of sight.

“Delia?” Maddock moved in front of me and cupped my face in his large hands, dipping his head to catch my gaze. “Well, that was…something. Haven’t been confronted by a magic user like that before and— Shit, you’re shaking, baby.”

“I’m okay,” I lied, eyes burning, vision blurring.

“Who’s Kyle?” he asked quietly, fingers catching the stupid tears I couldn’t hold back.

“A friend. My…my best friend.” I swallowed past the lump growing in my throat. “At least I thought he was.”

“He’s a magic user. Like her.” He jerked his head in the direction the woman had disappeared. When I didn’t answer immediately, he smiled and brushed his thumb along my bottom lip. “It didn’t take me long to figure out someone close to you had to be a magic user—you’re so dedicated, so passionate about protecting them. It’s clear that it’s not just a cause for you. It’s personal.”

Still unable to speak, because the truth—like my magic—was so close to the surface, I was terrified all of it would come spilling out, I just nodded.

“It’s going to be all right.” He released his hold on my face and wrapped his arms around me.

I gave a strangled laugh as I returned the embrace and leaned into him. Into his warmth and strength.

“It will be,” he insisted, running his palm over the back of my head, fingers massaging my scalp. “We’ll make it all right. You and me. Because she was wrong—you do know me, and I would never do anything to hurt you.” He pulled back and looked me in the eye. “You know that, right?”

“I do,” I whispered then pushed up to kiss his tempting mouth. And I did. I knew he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me—as he knew me now.

 


Bronwyn Green | Deelylah Mullin | Gwendolyn Cease | Kris Norris | Siobhan Muir

3 Comments

Today's topic is kind of a fun one - An app mysteriously appears on your phone and does something amazing. What does it do?

join me on a completely ridiculous and unrealistic journey, my friends, as I write this at 3am after driving hours and hours...because I can't plan to save my life lately and did not do this ahead of time. (And tap it out on my phone while curled up on my mama's couch because I didn't bring my computer with...again with the inability to effectively plan LOL)

My mysterious app... What I need is an app that is just a big old pause button. That's it. A pause button that just stops everything around me. Just for a short time - even just a minute - so I can breathe. Just freaking breathe. I need that so badly right now.

Looking forward to seeing what the others choose for their mysterious apps!

Bronwyn Green | Deelylah Mullen | Kris Norris