It’s #bookqw! My, how awkward YA compliments & ‘thanks’ can be!
In thanks to my readers, The Witch Of The Meadows is on 99¢ sale!
Excerpt from Chapter 9:
Beri looked tired and must want to sleep after a night of ditch-digging—and in his own bed this time. That thought led to another—would he sleep in the same bed she’d slept in last night? The tingle coursed her hands again. Not going there. “You can go if you like,” she said. “Will you fly home?”
“Aye. Say, ’tis too bad you can’t fly. Lady Lark told us.”
“Uh, yeah. At least not like you do.”
“You come from a verra different enclave, she said. You must find us strange.”
Well, Beri was different from anyone at school, but much friendlier than some guys she’d known for years. Never once had he put down her differences, and he was quite cute, with his freckles, unruly hair and those green eyes peering down at her.
Oh geez. I’m falling for a winged wizard.
Giving a shrug, he took a step back, and his wings appeared, the feathers reflecting reddish highlights in the morning sun. He stretched them wide, gave a hop and two strong downward flaps that stirred up a breeze.
Loose hair flipped across her face. Darn it, she’d gone too long without answering, and now he was leaving. “Wait! Beri!”
Wings arcing, he hovered above her. “Aye?”
Suck it up, Fern, this might be your only chance. “I didn’t realize until yesterday how very different life is here, but I don’t find you strange. I’ve never met anyone with wings, or who could do the”—she cupped her hand as he had—“magic thing the way you did. Or was nice enough to explain all this to me.”
Beri gave her a lopsided grin. “Thanks, Fern. I think you’re nice, too. And verra pretty.”
Oh. My. God. He thought she was pretty? “Thanks!” she blurted before turning and running for her grandmother’s house.
She ran her hands down her warm cheeks. Damn her traitorous body. That’d been as close as she’d ever come to gushing while talking to a boy. Any more and she’d have sounded like an idiot and never been able to speak to him again.
But he’d returned the compliments—and even said she was pretty. She spotted Beri’s winged figure flying south over the woods and flushed again.
She walked toward the largest hill in the Meadows, the one encompassing Gran’s house. Fern wasn’t sure if the stone cottage had been built into the hill, or if the hill had been built around the house, but Hillux was the most enchanting house she’d seen outside of movies or fantasy stories, and she dreamed of living there someday. From beneath a sloping carpet of green that met the surrounding land, a porch and deep-set windows peeked through overhanging mosses and clumps of flowers. Even with rectangular windows and solar panels sprouting on top, Hillux looked like a hobbit house, and Fern loved how it disappeared into nature.
Now it looked like this dream would stay a dream.
~~~
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