Today’s Deadly Destination is from Leigh Evans‘s Hedi Peacock on The Fairy Pond in Creemore from THE THING ABOUT WERES, Mystwalker #2 (published on July 30, 2013 by St. Martin’s Press). Want to win the Mystwalker series set? Enter via the widget below.
Leigh Evans’s Hedi Peacock on The Fairy Pond in Creemore from THE THING ABOUT WERES
I’ve got words I want to say but since you’re not hanging with me anymore, I’m SOL if I want to say them in person. Also, let us not forget that I’m surrounded by a bunch of wolves. They get skittish when their Alpha-by-Proxy starts muttering to herself.
Bunch of dumbasses.
Anyhow, last night I decided that I was going to write you a letter. Even if you’re never going to receive it. Because I just had to…you know…put it into ink.
Things have changed here. I know that’s not surprising. If there is one simple truth about life, it is this—the world moves on. Spring gives winter a nudge and then it’s all daffodils and cherry blossoms. Next thing you know, summer strolls in. It stays long enough to bake the ground and wilt the flowers but it slips away one morning too.
Falls moves in and life moves on.
I know this.
But, I’m the girl whose hasty—and by the way really freakin’ painful—decision has left me here. Alone in Creemore, Ontario. Sitting on a boulder by the dead end of the pond. And I feel the same. Things have changed but I’m not sure I have.
Hey, remember what my pirate rock looks like? Here’s a picture.
Fun times, Merry. Possibly the Gates of Merenwyn thing wasn’t one of my brighter moves:-)
The view’s better from the other side. Hang on, I’ll take another picture. How’s that?
The ducklings are down at the other end. They’ve grown. I expect they’ll fly south soon. And the lily pads…well, they’re still trying to take over. I need to get some of the Weres on that but they’re hellishly girlie around water unless they’ve had a scotch or two.
Oh, hell. I’m muddling this, aren’t I? Here it is…
I miss you.
Got to go now. I hear Harry’s truck coming up the drive. He usually shows up around dinner with Biggs in tow. Cordelia has instigated what she calls ‘think tank sessions’ but all those amount to is a bit of paper shuffling and throat clearing before we end up gossiping.
(The boys would swear on a stack of fox pelts that they never gossip but they’re far worse than Cordelia. The things they have to say about what happens at Pederman’s bar after the mortals leave…you’d have a good laugh, Merry.)
Well, the mosquitoes are zipping around my head, looking for a teaspoon or two of my Fae blood. They’re hungry little bastards tonight. I think it’s time to head back up to the trailer.
You take care,
Leigh Evans writes paranormal romances for MacMillan Publishers. Her very first novel earned high praise from RT Book Review and these rave words from NYT bestselling author Patricia Briggs, “Reader beware, if you pick up a Leigh Evans book, you won’t put it down until the last page.”
Born in Montreal, Quebec, Leigh now lives in Toronto with her husband. She’s raised two kids, mothered three dogs, and herded a few cats. Other than that, her life was fairly routine until she hit the age of 50. Some women get tattoos. Leigh decided to write a book. A little tardy, but then again, her Mum always said she was a late bloomer.
Set of first two Mystwalker books: THE TROUBLE WITH FATE and THE THING ABOUT WERES
Available on July 30, 2013 by St. Martin’s Press
THE HEART IS A LONELY HUNTER
In the never-ending saga that is my love-hate relationship with Robson Trowbridge, I, half-Were Hedi Peacock, have had a change of heart. Ever since I shoved Trowbridge through the Gates of Merenwyn, I’ve been the leader of the pack—hard to believe, right? The thing is: I’m half-Fae. So even though my Were side is ready to heed the call of the wild, the other part of me is desperate to take flight. And much as it pains me to admit it, life without Trowbridge is really starting to were me down…
I AM WERE, HEAR ME ROAR.
To make matters worse, the wolves of Creemore want my blood—and the North American Council of Weres wants me dead. So I’m just counting the days until Trowbridge returns from the other realm…and comes to my brave rescue…and becomes my alpha mate. Wishful thinking? Of course it is. But given all the mess I’ve been through already, what’s the harm in doing a little bit of daisy-plucking? Besides, Trowbridge owes me bigtime. A girl can dream.
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