***Paddle boards, bonfires & bikinis won’t help Penny. She craves the boy from the woods; not knowing she’s already caught in his nightmare. ***
Penny’s nightmare is ruling her life and she doesn’t know why. It started a few months ago, and since then Red Bulls, 5-hour Energy Shots, and Starbucks drive-thru are her lifeline.
When Penny’s parents decide to take their research of a rare Native American cult to a remote cabin for the summer, she's less than enthused.
Then Penny meets Delsin in a clearing in the woods, and her view of the world awakens. Apathy defines her, but Delsin lives life to it’s fullest. A shaman-in-training, he is everything Penny is not.
Each morning she comes to the woods, handing pieces of her heart to him, but when Penny is confronted with her worst nightmare, Delsin asks for a sacrifice Penny didn’t see coming.
“Listen, Penny. I know we are different in many ways, but you have this gentleness about you, and I don’t see it in many people. Most of the girls I’ve known are so intense. You are different.”
“So you keep saying.” But I relaxed a bit with his confident words, knowing that he liked me, straight up. “I should probably get back. We’ve been gone for hours.” I thought about Ollie looking for me. I didn’t want him to find me here. I didn’t want to share this place with him. With anyone.
“I know. I don’t want you to get in trouble, on my account.” He stood and took my hand.
He climbed out of the cave quickly, and then gave me his hands to hold, pulling me out easily. His arms were strong and he helped me to my feet. Once again we were on top of the rock, looking out at the woods, breathing in the mid-day air. But Delsin’s eyes were looking above, into the sky, as if searching for something far from his reach, and he raised his hands, too. As if wanting a hand to part from the clouds, to reach out and take him away.
I didn’t stare. I let him have his moment, even though I didn’t understand it. And I looked out, straight ahead, over the trees.
I didn’t know what I was looking for.
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About The Author:
Anya Monroe likes to write stories and paint words on her walls. She believes in love at first sight and fights for happily-ever-afters. As a wife and mom to six kids, she carves out time to write between carpool pick-ups and date nights because words are her heartbeat. She lives a ferry ride from Seattle and is a total Pacific Northwesterner who drinks chai lattes and wears Birkenstocks and has dreadlocks. She's a cliché, but doesn't mind it. Not even a little.
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