One friendship. One heartbreak. One messy past. One open-ended future. One chance to fix regrets. Multiple hurdles to jump.
Rian: I knew returning home was never going to be easy. I hurt people when I abruptly left seventeen years ago. I hurt my brothers. I hurt the woman I loved. I lost touch with everyone and have missed so much. But running away can’t last forever. It’s time to face my demons and fight for the one person I can no longer live without.
Love: Everyone knows me as the lovable, bubbly, happy girl. It isn’t untrue. Years ago, I had my heart broken and have hidden just how much that moment destroyed me. Every day that we have been apart has felt like a piece has been missing from me. But when Rian returns, I can’t bring myself to trust her. I can’t pick up the pieces of me that she carelessly broke and pretend everything is okay again.
However, when a story drifts into dangerous territory and someone important gets caught in the crossfire, sometimes you have to let the past stay where it belongs and forge a new future. There will be missteps, and maybe some tears, but fate cannot be stopped.
So, what does fate have in store for us now, and what are the chances we will survive it?
“I do. I know I’m incredibly late on coming back here, but I do want to make Midsummer my home again. I’ve missed this place. I’ve missed you.”
I watch the impact my words have over Love, and they aren’t necessarily good. She looks gutted by my admission.
“I have to get back.” She holds up her hands that just have tape and no fliers left. “Thanks for keeping me company.”
“Of course. It’s been good to see you. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in hanging out again? I know I hurt you by leaving, but I’d appreciate the chance to tell you my story and, if you are open to it, becoming friends again.”
I want much more than friendship with Love, but I know I have to tread lightly. I have to gain Love’s trust again before I promise her more. If we don’t get this new foundation right, then we’re doomed before we get a chance to start.
Love doesn’t immediately respond, which has my heart jacking up in tempo, but soon, a smile graces her soft lips.
“I’d like that. I’m sure we can make some time next week. I’d love to hear about how the teaching goes. I might have a favor to ask of you.”
“Anything!” I quickly agree, knowing I would still do anything for Love. “And let’s lock next week in. Do you still have my number?”
Over the years, we emailed to keep in touch, though those emails turned few and far between in recent years.
“Will you actually leave your phone on? From memory, you were notorious for letting it die for weeks on end.”
“I traveled far and wide, often in places where electricity wasn’t common. I got used to living without it,” I admit, knowing I wasn’t the best at it when I was a teenager, either. I had to hide even having it from my parents, which meant I couldn’t always leave it out charging.
“Luckily, The Last Resort boasts electricity!”
“Yes, I was very impressed to see many outlets in my room. Very fancy.” I lightly elbow her and smile when she laughs.
“Yeah, I have your number. I’ll text you when I’m free.”
“I look forward to it.” I don’t exactly keep the wistful note out of my tone, and Love sure doesn’t miss it, given her widening eyes and the way they dart to my lips. She looks away quickly, but I catch it.
“It’s good to have you back.” She gives me another hug, though it’s less surprising, and I’m able to focus more on how it feels to have her in my arms and to have her body against mine.
I probably hold on too tightly and certainly for too long, but I can’t help it. I missed Love more than I ever realized, and being back, close to her, is like finally feeling fiery warmth after being out in a wintery storm for years.
She pulls away, and then I watch her walk back in the direction of the hotel. I get the feeling she wants some space, so I let her have it. I have a date to look forward to next week, and I need to make sure it goes off perfectly.
For now, I’m going to go off in search of Reed and tease him relentlessly about the fact that he’s going to be a father to twins.
Jessica lives in Adelaide, South Australia. When she is not writing, you can find her reading, napping or watching excessive amounts of TV. Connect with her on Facebook and Goodreads.
Title: Born of Fire Author: Kella McKinnon Genre: Time-travel, Historical Romance
More than thirteen centuries ago, the Highlands were ruled by a powerful Pictish King whose ferocity in battle was as legendary as his honor and devotion to his people. When his trusted advisor had a vision that the Picts could one day disappear from the Earth, King Bridei charged one family with protecting and preserving the language and lore of the Picts through the generations to come.
Born into this ancient family line, Nessa Brodie feels both the weight of her responsibility and the desire to pursue her own dreams, until a series of fateful events lands her in the distant past. As she navigates her new world and all of the uncertainty and fear that comes with it, Nessa begins to realize that she is destined to be the completion of a circle begun long before she was born. Torn between the life and love she left behind, and the captivating passion of an untamed warrior-king, Nessa learns that even the path laid out by fate is never easy or straight.
Modern-day humans crave this, without ever knowing, she thought. The best-selling books, the blockbuster movies: Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter. Magic. Legend and ritual. The human soul remembered something so ancient, so powerful, that it hungered to worship it, to claim a place within it. Maybe it was our origins in some dark and mystical place and time, or maybe a long-lost connection to a god that is Nature itself.
What must it be like to live so close to the Earth, and to know that you are a part of it? Of the circle of life? To really understand that you are at its mercy? No one remembered that anymore. Humanity had been fooled into thinking there was nothing stronger or smarter than themselves, that the world would go on forever, with them in it. They were wrong. Here, in this moment, despite all of her troubles, Nessa finally knew what it would be to belong to the world around her, with all of its joys and mysteries. She knew now why she loved so much to have her bare feet on the Earth and her hands in the soil, bringing forth life. If the circumstances had been different, she realized that she could have been quite happy to live here among these people. Something about this place and time spoke to a part of her soul that she hadn’t been conscious of, before. The most ancient, primitive parts of her wanted to dance around those fires with the other women, with the same joy and wild abandon. A single tear, born of some emotion she couldn’t quite name, rolled down her cheek.
Kella McKinnon lives in rural New England on a mini-farm with her husband and three children, and has far too many hobbies to list… but writing is her biggest passion.
From Tropea, Italy to Michigan and Florida, the thieves Molly and April Danser are on the run, trying to escape from an enraged ex-US Marshal. He is hell bent on stopping them once and for all, his twisted black heart fired up for revenge and their total destruction. Will the sisters elude his blood-soaked hunt? They have their smarts and resource but have never faced a pursuit like this.
Detective Richard ‘Rick’ Ables, Jr. arrived at the Tropea apartment early the next morning, missing the Danser sisters by more than thirty-six hours. Not his fault, the incompetent and greedy airlines had once again dog-fucked his best-laid itinerary. Having flashed his revoked US Marshal badge, he had walked and examined the girls’ rooms with the Mrs. Gior-something trailing and complaining, her Italian sounding like tipsy Mexican. The rooms had been wiped and cleaned for new guests, and as he stood on the front porch looking down at the ancient and sun-stupid town, his lower throat gorged with the bile of frustration.
Descending the stairs to the street, he wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, irritated further by the heat and air that felt mottled with sand and the smell of sea rot. He set the case binder on the roof of his pop can of a budget rental, unlocked the door, and climbed in behind the wheel. Syncing his SAT phone with his laptop, he opened the binder in his lap while a connection was made to his server back in Michigan. The first tab was the detailed chronology of the pursuit, which he updated with his pocket pen, characterizing the Tropea search as an empty gator hole. The laptop pinged, and he pulled it over from the passenger seat.
His slow-witted inside source had let him in on Molly’s strange motorcycle racing life. Details from the search launched before arriving in this ass-up Italian town appeared as red flag icons on a map display. One was in coastal China in a city called Yantai. The second was near the Bristol shores in Britain. Doubting the girls had the juice to get into communist slant land, he did a search on the UK event, skimming the summary deep enough to see that the race was in two weeks.
“It smells right.” He allowed his thoughts to rewind to the last time he was in Britain. “This whole nut sack began there.”
Greg Jolley (also published under Gregory French) earned a master of art in writing from the University of San Francisco. He is the author of sixteen novels and one collection about the fictional, film industry-based Danser family. He currently lives in the Very Small town of Ormond Beach, Florida
