The Misadventures of Daria Pigwidgeon (42 page)

It’s just suddenly there.

Vibrating like a churning living and breathing fog that sends tendrils of static electricity to the tips of my fingers and toes. The rush of it sends every hair on me to stand at attention. There is a pulling sensation at my center that has me wanting to press myself to the window. Press into the shadows that linger on the other side. Unlike before with Chance, this time I hold myself back from connecting to anything. But I feel it though, the pull that wants to transform into something stronger.

Then right before my eyes the shadow form changes again. It becomes less shadow-like and more fleshy and real. I’m able to make out that with its lean and long muscular frame; it’s bound to be male – if shadows even have a gender. My assumption is confirmed when his face comes into focus. He’s young, my age or a little older, young. His eyes take my breath away. They are so large, tilted in an odd way that’s not completely human, and so very green. His pale and narrow face is practically covered by thick flowing blonde curls that reach his shoulders.

As I assess him, I realize he’s smiling at me. No. He’s smirking at me. A blush rises up into my cheeks as I’m caught. Yes, I believe I was checking him out. It’s not every day that shadows appear at a girl’s window and turn into a hottie. Too bad shadow-boy probably knows the effect, hence the smirk. I reward him with a glare and a step away from the window. This wipes the smirk of his face entirely, and instead he watches me with an eerie interest that leaves me a little scared. But when he drifts closer to the window and places both of his palms against the glass, I can’t keep my eyes from drifting to said palms.

They leave the perfect indentation, as if he’s actually real, and not just shadows only moments ago. Against my better judgment, I find that I’ve moved back towards the window. Much closer than I was the last time, and what’s worse, is that my own hands are raised in preparation to reach outward. I want to stop and pull away, but the pull in me to touch the glass is so strong. My entire being is urging me closer to it and to him, making my vision spin in dizzying circles. Then I’m there, at the glass, hands pressed and aligned with this shadow-boy’s.

My back arches and a gasp rips from my lungs as the purist most intoxicating heat rushes through me.

It spins and churns, leaving me breathless, making me quiver. Then it shifts. A pulling sensation starts in my middle and works all around me before centering once more, and in another rush of warmth it’s ripped from me. As it does a sharp pain stabs into my right shoulder, practically in the arm. I barely have the breath to scream, but it finally comes when I lock eyes with shadow-boy. He’s smiling again, teeth all bright and shiny, but then it’s gone. His features slip away and return to a dark moving shadowy mass. My hands are alone on the glass.

Then in a blink, the shadows shoot out into the window and straight at me. They strike me right in the chest, making me gasp and curl forward, but the hit is strong and I fall backwards. When I land all the breath is knocked out of me, and my head slams onto the carpeted floor that feels like pavement instead by the pain that takes over me. I lay frozen as the strangest sensation radiates inside me. And the whispering starts.

Sweet little Paragon. We’ve been searching so long, waiting, watching, and now we’ve found you. So perfect you are. Soon little Paragon. We’ll see one another very soon.

The whisper leaves me paralyzed as the every sensation in my body tingles and burns, it makes my own ability cry out in either ecstasy or fear – I can’t tell which – and that scares me. Then it’s gone. No more whispers with strange sensations, no churning warmth, and no newfound ability of my own that makes me question everything. I’m just me again, alone, lying on my bedroom floor.

But there is pain. Oh yes, there is that.

My head pounds as I struggle to sit up, but it’s not what worries me, though that list is getting longer.

It’s my right shoulder. It stings.

When I place a hand on it, I find sensitive raised skin beneath. Jumping to my feet I dart over to my mirror and push back the sleeve. There, on the skin where my arm meets my shoulder is the perfect dark outline of some type of curving vine that twists into a clover-like flower. The skin around it is pink and a raised, almost like I just received my first tattoo. And that’s exactly what it is. A permanent part of me now too and that can’t be anything good, at all.

A gift from Shadow-boy?

Something comes back to me then, a memory, of shadows hovering over me as I lay dying in the snow. Could that have been shadow-boy and not what I feared was a still alive Toby? If so, then what the heck just happened? Unfortunately, I think I have a pretty good idea. That feeling of something being ripped from me, like something being taken, I think it might have been my contribution to mandatory Hell feedings. And it came from what I took from Chance earlier. I know it was.

That means Hell has found me and knows what I can do.

And They are coming back.

Turns out I am going to need a little back-up, if my reaction to shadow-boy in any indication, and I think I might have to rely on the people I swore I never would – my family. But I’m not running. It wouldn’t matter now I don’t think, as if it would have helped before. All I have to do now is avoid Chance and keep him in the dark so I don’t feed on him accidently again. That will be a hard feat to achieve; I can still feel him as if we were one.

Goodie goodie gumdrops.

As if my life wasn’t already filled with crazy sauce.

To Be Continued…

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Hell Games (Daria Pigwidgeon, #2) Coming March, 20
^th
2013

A demon with a soul is a demon of the worst kind.
I'm that demon and this is my adventure.
I just hope that I can run, because They are coming...

Daria's misadventures continue into the vast world of demons as she's the only one with a soul. This time Hell is nipping at her heals and the only people she can rely on is the family she’s been running from her whole life. But she’s not as alone as she might think, Chance refuses to leave her side, and would literally follow her to Hell in need be. As the games of being one step ahead of her enemies climax, Daria finally comes face to face with what she really is. And it’ll change everything.

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About the Author:

Amy Lunderman is a stay at home mom, with a passion to write paranormal romantic thriller's whether they be adult or young adult. She lives in Rhode Island with her fiancé and their beautiful daughter. She enjoys writing, reading, being a mom, watching movies and television, having dance party, youtube, and status updates on facebook.

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Connect with Me Online:

My Blog: http://amylunderman.blogspot.com/

Twitter:
https://twitter.com/#!/AmyLunderman

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Cover Art by:

Razzle Dazzle Design

http://razzdazzdesign.com/