Conor nodded, heat in his eyes. “You and Matt are connected. You and I are also. You are a part of me, Ashlinn. I know your love for Matt, and his for you. I told you we were in this together, and we are. I won’t get in the way of your bond. But I will make sure you never forget ours.”
He let go of my hands, slid his fingers around the nape of my neck, and pulled my face to his. His kiss seared my lips. Our embrace filled me with everything he was feeling. Urgent and needy, he took from me everything I had and I gave freely, my heart filling with joy and acceptance. He was okay with this.
The sound of gagging pulled us apart and I gave Matt a sheepish smile. He rolled his eyes at me and grinned. I moved to him next. “Matty…”
“Stop,” he commanded softly. He took my hands and pulled us to standing. He looked down at me, eyes almost drinking in every detail, like he was trying to memorize me.
“First, you look absolutely effing amazing tonight.” His grin was wicked. I laughed and glanced at Conor. He was smiling. Okay, so he was not so much with the jealousy. What a relief.
“Thank you, again.”
“Anytime. Second, I love you. Period. You know this. And love means wanting you to be happy no matter what. I have been your protector for ten years. I will be your protector for as long as my body is able to defend yours. Period.”
“Matt…”
“Let me finish.” His hands squeezed mine. I was so worried his heart was breaking and here he was smiling down at me, eyes full of joy. I shut up.
“You and Conor are meant to be together. That’s obvious. But you and I are also bonded, and that kind of kicks ass. No offense.” He turned toward Conor, who held his hands up from his position on the couch.
“None taken,” Conor said.
“So,” Matt continued, turning his shining eyes back to me. “I’m going to take what I can get. That means I get to spend forever by your side, making sure you’re okay and happy? Then I’m all for it. Yeah, I’ll have to watch you and Con make googly eyes at each other and practically swallow each other whole. I’ll deal with it. If it makes you happy, it makes me happy. Maybe, in a hundred years or so, you’ll get tired of him and want something different. I’ll be there.” He grinned.
Conor coughed and Matt turned.
“Just kidding, buddy.” His eyes were wicked when he turned back to me.
I threw my arms around his neck, going up on tiptoes. His arms encircled my waist, strong, comforting.
“Thank you,” I whispered. I breathed him in and relief washed over me. I got to keep him. Forever. I didn’t think I’d ever tire of Conor, but Matt would be there, always. Maybe he’d even get over me someday and find love somewhere else. As long as it wasn’t Victoria.
Matt buried his face in my neck, inhaling deeply and then exhaling with a shudder as he pulled back, releasing me. I held onto his hand and reached for Conor, pulling him up to join us.
We were linked by my hands. Me and my boys. Matt on my left, Conor on my right. I looked between them, happier than I’d ever been. They both smiled down at me.
“So, we’re in this thing together, and we’re all okay with it.” I felt a reassuring squeeze on both sides.
“Together,” Matt affirmed.
“Together,” Conor repeated.
“Together.” My heart was full to bursting as I looked between their smiling faces. I didn’t know when we’d do the familiar ceremony. I didn’t care. As far as I was concerned, we were bonded from that moment on. We would face whatever came our way in the coming hours, days, years.
Together.
Once upon a time, Annika believed her dreams had ended. It took awhile, but she realized no one could take her dreams away from her, and if she worked hard enough, she had the power to make those dreams come true. Getting published is proof of that. She lives in a small, Midwestern town with her husband and two beautiful children, and continues to turn her dreams into reality.
* * * *
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MuseItUp Publishing
Sapphire Moon
Young Adult Sci-Fi Fantasy Romance by Andrea Cothern
It’s been two weeks since the murder of Beth Stewart’s mother. Two months since the fateful trip to Salt Lake City where the murderer found Lizzy Shelton. Six months since Beth first met the Sheltons. One year since the Sheltons came to Earth. Now the time has finally come to leave; to find the spaceship in Nevada that’ll take them back to Evelon to fight Tanduc and release The Unity of the Greater System from his control.
That’s what Beth wants most…to leave behind the memories of sorrow and death and forge a new life for herself with the Sheltons. But first she must confront the demons within her—a goal made much harder when she finds her mother’s diary. As the pieces of the past come together, the present starts to fall apart. Does she have the ability to find her mother’s murderer without endangering the Sheltons? And if she does find him, does she have it within her to mete out her version of justice? Can she become like the man she’s hunting…a murderer?
Prologue
The room was nearly bare; the lights dim on the slate walls and floor. A long, curved wooden desk on the back wall and a small table in the center were the only furniture.
Despite its length, only three men sat behind the long desk. The one in the middle had obvious seniority. He sat a little higher than the two younger men at his sides. They stared at the little table and the man cowering behind it.
He was in his forties with dark blond, closely shaved hair, and a crescent-shaped scar above his right ear. He was pleading, his hands clasped under the table in supplication. He shivered from the chill in the air and in his heart.
“Just give me one more chance. I know where they are now.” His eyes bulged with exasperation and desperation. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he strained forward over the table.
“You already had your chance and after what you’ve done to the mother, I believe you should have a mental evaluation to guarantee you’re locked up for life.” The man on the right side spat out the comment. His dark eyes were filled with a malevolence that seemed to bore through the center of the man in front of them.
“I didn’t have a choice. She charged at me!”
“
That
incident is
not
the one I was referring to,” the man on the right replied through gritted teeth.
The man on the left chimed in. “You deserve to be locked up for—”
“Gentlemen, please,” the man in the middle protested. He looked between the glaring men before settling his gaze on the man in the front. “This council is not here to judge on prior events. This council is here to determine if the accused is guilty of attempting to contact persons he has been restrained from contacting in his attempt to apprehend the E.T.'s. You, sir, are lucky you’re not still in a cell with your head bandaged as you've been for the latter part of this year. I believe a mental evaluation
is
in order, but judging by your service history, we will forego that and give you one…” He held up his index finger. “…more chance. Since we have no evidence that they are indeed in Blanding, Utah, you are not to go back there.”
“But that fire! The man himself was burning. I couldn’t make that up! They’re there, I—”
The senior man put his hand up. “You are not to enter Blanding under any circumstances. You are to continue your search. If you locate the E.T.'s, you are to follow and observe only. You are to find out where they are going next and you will only apprehend them when you have new information regarding others of their kind. And to make sure you do as you’re told, we will be sending Curtis…” He pointed to the man on his right. “…with you. If you can manage to redeem yourself and can bring us a specimen, you will not stand trial for your past and present errors. However, if you fail, you will face court martial and will almost certainly be spending the rest of your days in the ten by ten cell you've come to call home…smaller, and with no windows, if I can help it. Bailiff, if you please.”
The bailiff escorted the prisoner out. The men at the long desk started to speak among themselves.
“He’s crazy.”
“He just had to find some way to get to that girl.”
“Why are we even giving him another chance?”
“Gentlemen, we need not concern ourselves with him any longer. We will launch our own investigation in Canada and he will be preoccupied in Utah while you supervise, Curtis. We’ll give him three months, and then we’ll lock him up. Be sure to make him disappear.”
“I believe, sir, that
that
should have been taken care of after the
first
incident,” Curtis said. His teeth nearly cracked under the pressure he put on them.
“That's neither here nor there. But this time, I don’t want any second guessing. Make this disappear. The police force in Blanding can never know that our unit exists. The world can never find out about the E.T.'s.”
Chapter One
My seat was hard, wooden, and very uncomfortable. And yet I sat without moving, just staring at my surroundings, taking it all in, despising it. The plain, matted carpet whispered of all the people that had said goodbye to their loved ones. They’d attempted to clean it over the years, but the many feet that had shuffled, stamped, or simply stood on it had worn it down to the point that cleaning was pointless.
The walls were an ugly, dirty beige, covered in smudges and handprints. The podium and the pews were a solid enough wood and didn’t look so bad compared to everything else. The lighting was poor, making my already limited vision even worse, and the perfume from the flowers was making me queasy.
Then again, it might not have been the flowers.
“Beth? Are you ready?” Robert came up behind me, resting a hand on my shoulder. I barely noticed the tingles anymore. It seemed they were always there, my body constantly numb. I glanced around the room again, finally realizing that it was the end.
Ready?
Ready to say a final goodbye to my mother, who tried for eighteen years to find a comfortable compromise between friend and parent?
Or ready to welcome the inhabitants of Blanding who had let in the creeper who’d murdered her?
You're not being fair.
All right. Maybe they didn't know.
Was I ready to let go?
No.
But I was ready to try.
“Yes,” I lied, standing and brushing off my simple black dress. I’d taken the sleeves off the year before, and regretted it as I shivered. I grabbed my sweater and silently prayed it would at least warm my body, if not my heart.
I grabbed Rob's outstretched hand and walked with him into the hallway to the large wooden double doors at the back of the building. Lizzy was already there, preparing the sign-in book, dressed in a 1940's-style black dress she’d found at a thrift store. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, giving her features a pained look.
Victor—his black second-hand suit so faded it almost looked gray—and the funeral home director, Mr. Morris, were bringing in last minute flowers that had been delivered, taking them into the main room and setting them with all the others around the urn on its pedestal.
“Ready?” Robert asked again. He watched me closely, ready to grab me should I collapse. He knew the strain I’d been under the past week—and which, if I was honest, actually began in August, nearly six months prior—and was trying desperately to be a strong support for me to lean on. It was hard to remember that he knew exactly how I felt…but I couldn't lie again.
“No. Let's get this over with.”
He opened the doors and I signed my own name in the book, followed by Victor, Robert, and Lizzy. Mr. Morris signed, and he had all his employees that were present sign, which I presumed was traditional. I wondered if we would be the only persons to sign. I couldn't imagine that no one else would attend my mother's funeral.
I didn't have to wonder long.
We waited only a few more minutes and Mr. Bostwick arrived with his wife, Maggie. They brought two of their three sons, Phil and Peter, and I noticed their daughter Clare wasn't with them, or her twin Paul. I knew he wouldn't be. He’d run off to Vegas the previous week, like the perfectly selfish boy he was.
“Hello, Beth,” Mr. Bostwick said, his eyes downcast. He held out a hand which I shook firmly, trying to give the illusion that I was strong and managing well. It was a trick I’d be using a lot.
“Hello, Mr. Bostwick. Mrs. Bostwick.” I turned to her, my hand outstretched. She was fighting back tears and pulled me into a hug, ignoring my hand.
“Beth. I'm so sorry,” she said with a quiver in her voice.
Why was
she
sorry? It wasn’t her fault an insane man broke into my home and killed my mother.
Those thoughts were best kept to myself. Maggie was only saying what I’d be hearing the entire evening.
Better get used to it now.
“Thank you again for all your help—”
“No, dear, please don't mention it. We're so saddened by your loss and you know we'll always be here to help you,” Maggie interrupted me. Richard nodded fervently beside her as we walked into the main room together.
“Oh… okay, thank you. And thank you for the flowers, they're lovely.” The Bostwicks were responsible for most of the flowers, including a particularly large arrangement covered in lilies and roses. It was larger than the podium it was perched next to. “Have a seat. Will Clare be coming?”
I felt entirely too formal as I welcomed them to such a morbid event.
“Yes, dear, of course. She's coming soon, with Lee.”