The Spine of my Supernatural Fandom

As I’ve been catching up on Supernatural, I realized over the last few days one of the things that makes the show so attractive to me: 

It’s all about the books and the research.    

Yes, there are fights and struggles and angst, good-looking people and down-home people just trying to save the world for the rest of us schmoes, and I do love the paranormal, the magick, the demons and monsters and angels (oh my!), and the writing is terrific. I really dig the meta stuff. But what I love the most is when the Winchesters (and Bobby) have to search through layers of book-held lore to find answers. 

And oh, those books . . .   

Sexy old tomes made of parchment and rag, or worse; hand-bound in leather, edges frayed, dirtied by the hands of time . . . Ancient handbooks on myth and legend, some written in the dead languages, illustrated and calligraphied and illuminated. Folks, I’m calling Supernatural what it really is: Book P0rn.  I think I would have a hard time thinking of a problem that Sam and Dean couldn’t solve without, at some point in the process, having to do the reading, old-school. I enjoy the Internet research they do as well, but on so many occasions, the information they need is so arcane, they have to go poring through old books, even breaking into closed libraries and locked offices to get to them.  Do you know what I’d give for a weekend (or longer!) to poke around in Bobby Singer’s collection of books?       And the books are everywhere in Bobby’s house! They’re stacked on the stairs! Piled by the windows! Unsteady towers of books beside crammed bookcases and layers of open pages on the desk! 

I am so glad I got back into this show, if only for the bibliophilic eye-candy. 

Blood and Fire: Book Two of the Talbot Trilogy — Playlist!

Similar in structure to Wind and Shadow, the story in Blood and Fire takes place over three days in mid-November. Sometimes, while I was writing or rereading, I was thinking of particular songs in the background of the scenes. Although I’ve lost my original list, the songs I’ve picked out below are those that best fit the movement of the plot and development of the characters. It was tempting to copy songs I used in the playlist for the first book, but that would be cheating . . .

However . . .

Given that I am still mad about losing my first list, this one still open to interpretation and change. It stands for now, and may be adapted further over the next few days (or weeks, or, you know . . . whenever).

I hope you enjoy!

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Shadows: The Talbot Trilogy Playlist 2

Prologue:

Enya, “Orinoco Flow”

Neverending White Lights, “Theme from The Blood and the Life Eternal”

November 17

Chapter 1:

U2, “Mysterious Ways”

Chapter 2:

Vince Guaraldi Trio, “Christmastime is Here (Instrumental)”

Dominica, “Luxury”

Taylor Swift, “Safe and Sound”

Chapter 3:

Taylor Swift, “Safe and Sound”

Muse, “Unnatural Selection”

Three Days Grace, “Animal I Have Become”

Chapter 4:

Barenaked Ladies & Sarah McLachlan, “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen”

Motley Crue, “Home Sweet Home”

Chapter 5:

Remik’s Cube, “Opportunity”

Linkin Park, “Points of Authority”

Nelly, “Hot In Here”

Kelly Clarkson, “Stronger (What Doesn’t Kill You)”

Chapter 6:

Kelly Clarkson, “Stronger (What Doesn’t Kill You)”

Tove Lo, “Talking Body”

Pitbull, “Feel This Moment (feat. Christina Aguilera)” or Daft Punk, “Get Lucky (feat. Pharrell Williams)”

Rupert Holmes, “Escape (The Pina Colada Song)”

Avicii, “Hey Brother”

Chapter 7:

Black Lab, “Learn to Crawl”

Black Eyed Peas, “Let’s Get It Started”

Rick Howland, “Parallel Lives”

November 18

Chapter 8:

Broken Bells, “The High Road”

Classified, “3 Foot Tall”

Grace Potter & The Nocturnals, “White Rabbit”

Rick Howland, “Two Doctors”

Chapter 9:

Jenn Grant, “Parachutes”

Muse, “Resistance”

Chapter 10:

The Kinks, “A Well Respected Man”

George Thorogood & The Destroyers, “One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer”

Nirvana, “Smells Like Teen Spirit”

Chapter 11:

Florence + The Machine, “Kiss With a Fist”

Reilly, “The Most Wonderful Time of the Year” or Celine Dion, “I Drove All Night”

Reilly, “Good King Wenceslas”

Chapter 12:

The Doors, “Strange Days”

Kardinal Offishall, “Numba 1 (Tide Is High)” or My Chemical Romance, “Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na)”

Chapter 13:

Gerard McMann, “Cry Little Sister”

Chapter 14:

Tim Cappello, “I Still Believe”

Chapter 15:

Lou Gramm, “Lost in the Shadows (The Lost Boys)”

Paramore, “Monster”

Chapter 16:

Nickelback, “Burn It to the Ground”

Chapter 17:

Queen, “We Will Rock You”

Spoon, “Got Nuffin”

November 19

Chapter 18:

Miranda Lambert, “Run Daddy Run (feat. Pistol Annies)”

Soundgarden, “Black Hole Sun”

Plain White T’s, “Welcome to Mystery” or Three Days Grace, “Never Too Late”

Chapter 19:

Three Days Grace, “Never Too Late”

The Calling, “Wherever You Will Go” or Demi Lovato, “Warrior”

Chapter 20:

Crooked Fingers, “Luisa Bones”

Chapter 21:

Maroon 5, “Come Away to the Water” (feat. Rozzi Crane)

Epilogue:

Sarah McLachlan, “Song for a Winter’s Night”

In which my son is introduced to Supernatural . . .

Heh heh . . . watched an episode of Supernatural tonight, a season 1 episode about Bloody Mary, and my fourteen-year-old son decided to join me after his shower. Now he’s all freaked out and doesn’t want to go to bed. Avoiding looking in reflective surfaces . . . I had to put on a comedy for him. Like PewdiePie goes to look at fluffy kittens after getting scared playing Slenderman. I’m trying so hard to keep a straight face . . .

Nope.

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HOOOOO boy . . . I understand, totally. I freak myself out once in a while, too. That night hubby saw the reflection of a woman in a long white nightgown in the pictures on our wall, when I was in bed in purple jammies — I couldn’t look up from the floor at night for a whole week. And the morning after he and I watched 30 Days of Night, when he had to go to work in the dark hours of morning in the middle of winter JUST LIKE IN THE MOVIE, he was watching the rooftops for vampires, he told me. And oh, this kid’s reaction when his dad told him, one night, in an ominous tone, “Don’t look out the window, Jack” — yikes! Our son is an imaginative and sensitive soul with a fantastic imagination. You fuel that thing with fear and it runs for hours.

Some of his friends like watching Supernatural so he said to me, close to the end of the episode, “I’ll have to watch from the beginning. I’m sure the others aren’t horror.”

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Oh, my poor, sweet, dear firstborn child . . .

BRB — I have to stand in the kitchen with him while he gets his bedtime snack.

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*

*

Aaaaand I lost it. And now he’s upset. Get it together, woman! THIS IS YOUR CHILD!

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See, here’s the thing: I really do enjoy the show BUT I have not been able to watch it for YEARS because it came on right when I would be trying to get the kids to bed / keep them there. We didn’t have a DVR / PVR so I couldn’t tape it. And even streaming — well, when you have your youngest always wanting to sit on your lap and cuddle the minute you sit down, you’re not watching scary awesome TV. So I have missed almost all eight seasons and honestly, Mama wants to do some catchin’ up with those nice Winchester boys.

Seems as though I’ll be doing on my lonesome from now on.

I think I’m okay with that.

#badparent

Lady-wolf: the Untold Story

We had always kept our distance from the two-legs — they were loud, they stank (usually of fear), and they couldn’t communicate. But the prey had been hard to find for a few days, and we were hungry, as were our pups. My mate’s stomach was growling as loudly as I’d ever heard him when he had to warn away coyotes.

So when the two-legs had quieted down, well after dark, we followed our noses to the scent of food.

Although there was no moon, the faint glimmer of starlight coupled with the orange glow from the fire help us find fish spines on a rock, and crumbs of something yeasty on the beaten ground by the hot place. Strange clear round things, too, like small bones that had been cleaned of their marrow. I sniffed one and sneezed at its oddly acrid scent, like broken mushrooms after a rain. Nothing edible there. While my mate licked hopefully at the fish spines, I padded over to a sack that smelled promisingly of food. There was a small hole in it that my claw was able to rip open just a little bigger, letting slimy guts spill out. Not particularly appetizing, but better than nothing.

As I was pulling the innards further out, a wind rose that blew the bag away from me. It tumbled end over end toward the strange cave where the two-legs were sleeping. I snapped up the morsel I’d taken and followed the rest, easily fastening my teeth around its neck to drag it away.

The two-legs inside must have heard me, or maybe it had to mark its territory. Suddenly the big leaf moved aside and its ugly face was there, its eyes staring into mine over its flat snout. We both froze. I’d never been this close to one of them before. I let my hackles rise and growled in warning, advising it to keep its distance. I thought I could scent that it was a male, but there was female odour as well. I could smell yeast here, too, very strong, and that odd smell like mashed fungus. I wasn’t about to get closer to find out more, but then I heard a sound in the cave. Maybe it moved, or something else, but I didn’t like it. I let my teeth show, growling louder, and heard my mate answer in kind.

After too many rapid heart-beats to count, I decided to take a chance on moving back. I put a paw on my prize, intending to drag it away also by snagging it with my nail. But there was a second sack there, something else next to the first I had chased, and it was heavy. The two-legs said something loud, and reached out quickly to stop me. I snarled, snapping a stronger warning.

The stupid two-legs gripped my prize and yanked it back. I got close to its stinking face, fighting for what was mine. My mate responded, approaching, and then when the two-legs looked away, I seized my chance to sink my teeth into its forelimb. I expected it to cry out, but it did something else: it bit me back, fastening its jaws on the tender skin of my ear. Instead of the two-legs yelping, I heard my voice in the pain. Surprised and hurt, I spat out its dirty tasting body and scrambled away, leaving my prize — and my pride — in the dirt.

My mate found me later, attempting to lick my wound, but my tongue wouldn’t quite reach. He obliged by cleansing it as best he could. Every lave of his tongue on my hurt reminded me of the shocking strength of the two-legs jaws trying to rip my flesh from my bones. I knew I would never go near their kind again, no matter how hungry I might feel.

The bites took a long time to heal. Flies swarmed over my hurt ear, where pain rumbled like thunder. But by the time the lesser light was rising nearly full and round in each evening sky, it pained me not at all. I felt wonderfully energetic and playful, approaching my mate for penetration when he didn’t expect and increasing my range of hunting until I was angering our neighbouring families. I tumbled and played with our litter until they were worn out and slept where they fell. I couldn’t help it, though; it felt like the glow of thousands suns under my skin, powering my muscles and pushing me to run as fast as I could. I had to run, because then, when I stopped, I would be able to do the other thing that I couldn’t resist, and that I knew my mate would not understand.

Grasping a firm twig in my maw, i traced shapes in a space of dirt I cleared with my tail. A winding path, like the river carving through the valley. Lines crossing each other and blending downward into one thick reach, like the veins on a leaf or the tall trees that rose about me. The unnatural hump that had been the two-legs’ cave. My jaw made these images clumsily, and I found that I could hook my forepaw around the tip of the tool, and by moving it carefully and slowly, I could do it better.

It disturbed me, these moments, and I would eventually rise shuddering, uncertain of the reason or the purpose behind these things.

It was when the lesser light rose in its fullest that I learned the truth of the two-legs’ curse on me.

The pups, my mate, and I had settled in for the night. I had brought home a fat rabbit and our bellies were full. But as they snored in our den, the white light in the forest beckoned me. I wanted to stay warm and safe, listening to my family breathing, but the desire to go crawled on my fur like a thousand insects. There was no comfort in remaining. I silently and swiftly ran away up the mountain, seeking a private place in which to howl my discomfort away.

And then I stumbled.

I fell, as I ran. Nothing had ever happened to me like that, at least not since I had been a pup. I got up to run again, and my forelegs wouldn’t grip as they had done before. I dragged myself, whining, my bones burning, to a clear flat place on a rock, and lifted my nose to the sky.

But my nose no longer angled before my eyes, jutting proudly before my face. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the painful tingling, as the black tip shrank away and my teeth and tongue with it. I raised a forepaw, panicking, confused, and scrambled back as I saw the hairless limb waving in the space where my nose had been. The limb ended not in my fuzzy paw, but in something flattened and naked, my knuckles stretched and unfamiliar. My bladder released in my fright, and although my skin wrinkled for hackles, cold air whisked across my neck where the raised fur should have been. A strange sound ululated from my throat — neither a bark, nor a whine, but a low keening wail. I fell back, and in my panic, I recognized an absence of pain where I ought to have jammed the bone of my tail. I twisted around to see, and to my horror, my beautiful thick tail was gone, swallowed into a strange smooth round surface. I tumbled over and over, crying out as the mountain rock and brush left stinging scratches on my suddenly tender skin. When I finally skidded to a stop in a cradle of stone, the light of the moon revealed my new body and I wept.

How would my children feed from me, with only two bulbous mammary glands where six had been? And how could my mate accept me, without my fur? I curled forward, protecting the underbelly which had grown long and felt so hollow. When I tried to stand, my back legs were ungainly and awkward, hitting the ground in two places, bending at an unnatural angle. And I was cold, so cold. I missed the warmth of my family, our bodies piled together in the heat of our den. Something leaked onto my face and ran from my nose, and I knew I must be dying. Wolves did not leak in this way. I was sick and I would not be able to return to my home.

The night wore on. I managed to find grips on the rock, moving slowly as I grew accustomed to myself. The freezing wind tore my breath from me. My body ached and shivered. The fur which had been left to me was long on my head, shorter than a newborn kit’s on my legs, matted patches between my legs and under my forearms — not nearly adequate for protection. If I was now a two-legs (for that certainly seemed to be the truth), I understood better their reason for building hot places when they lived in their strange caves. Why their dens were filled with bedding like a bird’s. Naked, they could not survive.

So when I saw a two-leg place with a fire, I had to swallow my revulsion and panic in order to get close enough to be warmed.

As before, the beings were gone. I could not smell them this time, or smell any food right away. The heat drew me in. There was a pelt by the fire, something scratchy and the colour of blood, left hanging on a strange bush. My teeth were unable to pull it over me, but as I had done with the stick in the dirt, I was able to use my forepaws to stretch the pelt onto my body. Between the pelt and the fire, I was soon able to stop shivering.

I do not remember falling asleep, but it must have been true, because a touch on my shoulder woke me. Again, I tried to growl, but a high-pitched noise hummed from my throat instead. Two-legs were looking at me, making soft sounds. I snapped my teeth, moving backward away from their outstretched limbs. Behind them, the sky was still dark. I felt dirt under my nails as I clawed the ground. I looked down at the marks these long knuckles could make, and felt calmer. I made furrows, digging, and traced the spiral of a cut tree stump, while the two-legs made more noises.

The shock of understanding — it exploded in my chest, when one of them made a sound I could interpret: “Water.”

I looked up at a hollowed bone, filled with clear water. “Aa-der,” I intoned, and crawled forward, hanging my tongue out. It was difficult to lap the drink into my mouth. I tensed at the feeling of the bone touching my teeth, but when the water poured in, I found it easier to swallow. When the two-legs took the bone away, I whimpered. I watched as more water was poured into it from a sack, and then it was offered to me again, this time with a soft touch on my forepaw which made me flinch back.

The smaller two-legs was holding a bone, too. I watched as it curled its ugly knuckles around the bone and raised the liquid to its mouth. Astounded, I realized that this was something I could do, too. I dropped the bone and spilled the water with my first few attempts, but I had always learned things quickly. I found that I could drink like a two-legs, after all.

“Who?,” they kept saying to me. “Who?” Like monstrous owls changed by sorcery into poor mockeries of the birds they had once been.

“Where?” It sounded like a growl, but wasn’t. The noises were intelligible, but I did not know their language. “Hurt,” they said, but what did it mean?

They gave me food, hard like tree bark but tasting of berries and wheat. They built the fire, placing more sticks on it, so that I would not be cold. These were not the terrifying two-legs of my nightmares.

So when the sky brightened and I shuddered back into my normal form, perhaps their screams were also to be understood. As soon as my four legs were under me, my tail brushing the air once more, I ran from them as fast as I could, retracing my path back to home. Far better that I had frightened those who had bitten me, changed me, than my own offspring and pack.

July 29: I’m on the V-Spot Blog

Oh, what a glorious Monday it will be! I’ll be rubbing virtual shoulders with vampire authors on perhaps the greatest vampire fiction site online!

The V Spot Logo

Join me at http://www.vampirebookrealm.com/the-v-spot-blog.html, read a fresh excerpt from Wind and Shadow, leave a comment, and enter the Rafflecopter giveaway for my Bloody Good Prize Package:

– a set of handmade beeswax candles (lead-free wicks),
– a signed bookmark,
– a magnet,
– a “blood”-filled vampire fang necklace from Vampirewear.com, and
– a signed print copy of Wind and Shadow

Good things happening — can’t wait to see who wins this one!

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Wind and Shadow: Book One of the Talbot Trilogy

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Buy Links:
(PDF or Print) http://www.melange-books.com/authors/torilridgewood/windandshadow.html
(Kindle) http://www.amazon.com/Wind-Shadow-Talbot-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B00DYCH64Y/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1374184496&sr=8-1&keywords=wind+and+shadow+tori+ridgewood
(B&N) http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wind-and-shadow-tori-l-ridgewood/1116138235?ean=9781612356396
(Smashwords) https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/340100
(Kobo) http://store.kobobooks.com/en-ca/books/wind-and-shadow-talbot-series-1/JPwUsVxsCkqvqn_pDL1MYw?MixID=JPwUsVxsCkqvqn_pDL1MYw&PageNumber=1

Book Release Party July 7!

Celebrate with me the release of Wind and Shadow: Book One of the Talbot Trilogy, with games, prizes, and giveaways on July 7 from 12-5 pm:

https://www.facebook.com/events/387077754732358/

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Prizes and giveaways include:
Wind and Shadow bookmarks and pens
-a Wind and Shadow mug and magnet set
-a Wind and Shadow notebook and pen set,
-a Wind and Shadow key chain,
-1 Wind and Shadow t-shirt,
-3 sets of vampire bite removable tattoos (Vampirewear.com)
-a “blood”-filled fang necklace (Vampirewear.com)
-a mini-rose fang necklace (Vampirewear.com)
-5 free e-copies of Wind and Shadow,
-THREE signed print copies of Wind and Shadow: Book One of the Talbot Trilogy

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PLUS: Every comment is an entry into a draw for the Mystery Prize! (hint: a special necklace only available from Vampirewear.com is included!) Note: If you live outside of Eastern Standard Time, don’t despair — you are eligible for this terrific gift box! (pics to come, she whispered mysteriously…)

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*note: event rescheduled as of June 26 to July 7

Wind and Shadow: Book One of the Talbot Trilogy, NOW AVAILABLE FROM MELANGE BOOKS!


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Rayvin Woods, photographer and natural witch. She just wanted to start her life over again after a series of misadventures. She didn’t count on rekindling a lost love when she came home to Talbot…or battling a malevolent vampire and his coven for her life.

Grant Michaels, police officer. He thought Rayvin was a murderer. He will do whatever it takes to protect the community he loves from danger…but will he learn to trust his heart, and the word of a witch, before it’s too late?

Malcolm de Sade, cunning vampire, imprisoned underground for a year by Charlotte Fanning and Pike Mahonen (“Mist and Midnight”, Midnight Thirsts). His accidental release unleashes his hunger and ambition on a small, sleepy town…

Excerpt:

Chapter One

The sun was just beginning to set when Rayvin’s beaten red Plymouth Horizon passed the sign indicating the exit for Talbot. Several suitcases and boxes were tied down to the roof and covered with a secure tarp. They weighed down the hatchback, causing the vehicle to fishtail slightly in the thin slush coating the highway as it swerved to make the turn. The loaded small trailer covered with a second tarp and a web of bungee-cords followed suit, wavering from side to side for a moment as Rayvin adjusted her speed. Reaching back to rub the nape of her neck, the back of her hand pushed against the carved hairpin keeping her long, curly auburn hair in its bun; the pin slid free, falling somewhere behind her seat, and the locks spilled down around her shoulders. Sighing with irritation, she changed hands, keeping one firmly on the wheel while the other gingerly patted the boxes and bags crowding the backseat, searching for the hairpin. Her eyes stayed on the road, though she wasn’t concerned about the route. No matter that half a lifetime had passed since she had last travelled this road; she still knew exactly where each hill would be, the precise moment when a curve began and when the pavement straightened again.

Time seemed to have come to a standstill in this relatively remote corner of northeastern Ontario. The environment seemed unchanged in spite of the decade that had gone by after she had thumbed her final ride on the shoulder of this road, determined never to come back to Talbot. Memories came wandering unbidden and unwelcome to the forefront of her mind, as she gave up on the search for the hairpin and draped the length of her hair around the back of the headrest to keep it out of her way.

When Rayvin had hitch-hiked her way out of Talbot, ten years earlier, she had vowed to cut her hair as soon as she had settled. It would be part of her fresh start, her new life; she would change the colour, bleach away the red to platinum blonde, trim the curl down to a sleek pixie. Anything but the straggly, flaming mane that, she felt, marked her so clearly as different. It had been a banner, attracting attention. She had felt clearly the hostility on people’s faces as she passed them on the main street for the last time, chin high, heading for the beginning of the highway and whichever motorist would be kind enough to help her begin her journey to a new life. She had walked away from the only home she’d ever known with nothing but her backpack, filled to bursting and carving painful red marks into her shoulders. The whispers from onlookers peering out of open shop doors had followed her like the malevolent humidity, both urging her on and dragging her down. Her chest had felt so tight, and her eyes had been dry and burning, when she had passed the boy with the deep brown eyes. If there was anyone who would have believed her, she liked to think it would have been Grant Michaels.

They had rarely spoken, but she had liked the sound of Grant’s voice, the things he had said, and the way he had looked at her when they passed in school, with appreciation, interest, and respect. She would have liked to have gotten to know him better, and to have been friends. They might even have dated, were it not for his interfering, perverted friends. But he had turned his back on her, just like the rest, after her disastrous date with his best friend. The appreciation, interest and respect she had felt from him had changed in one night into hatred, anger, and disgust. Maybe even fear.

Rayvin had always felt his regard for her in the background and taken it as a comfort; after everything that happened, she missed it terribly. Without the kindness of a nice boy, her world had felt that much smaller and colder. Not even Andrea, her dearest friend and almost-sister, could fill that sudden emptiness. It felt much like when her mother had died.

In this way, unwanted and under pressure, Rayvin had left Talbot the day after her nineteenth birthday.

In her vehicle, her hands resting on the wheel, she recalled the sudden feeling of liberation as she had crossed the town limits, the glorious rush of hope and freedom that had filled every cell of her body when she had felt she had achieved her escape from accusation, anger, and fear. She could reinvent herself, and she would, in a place where anonymity was a gift. She would start with her hair.

But when the moment finally came, weeks later in the city, she couldn’t do it. Her hair was too much a part of her identity. Maybe Talbot was, too, in spite of her history. Her throat tightened as she wished once more that she had found some other alternative to coming back, and prayed to Goddess that time had healed what she could not.

It hadn’t been for lack of trying. She had gained her abilities as a healer from her mother. After Jason was hurt, she had at least attempted to do the right thing, but she had forgotten her mother’s final lesson. Some things could not be fixed, with medicine, or with magick. Things like broken vertebrae, and terminal cancer.

“It’s just how things are, my darling,” Rowan Woods had whispered from her hospital bed. She’d looked so small and pale. Rayvin recalled the shock of seeing her mother’s once-beautiful red hair lying against her scalp in a thin, limp layer, and how Rowan’s thin frail face had frightened her. “I will miss you growing up. You will need me but I will not be there, physically.”

“We haven’t tried everything,” Rayvin had protested. “There are still a lot of herbs, and spells, way in the back of the book!” The tears filling her eyes had blurred her vision, making her mother appear to be surrounded by a halo.

Rayvin smiled sadly at the memory. Her determination to put a broken body back together had been just as strong in her late teens as it had been when she was seven and losing her mother, but it had taken those two failed attempts at spellwork to make her realize the limits of her power. She still wondered if her own feelings toward the injured boy had interfered with the magick, in spite of her efforts to put those emotions aside. No one aside from Andrea had known that she had tried to heal Jason. At least the humiliation of her failure hadn’t spread like the other rumours about her. If it had worked, she wouldn’t have had to leave the only life she’d ever known.

She wouldn’t have had to walk away from the woods where her mother had taught her to respect magick. Rayvin had never grown to love the silence and the solitude of the bush, as her mom had, but she had gained an appreciation for it. She wondered if she would still be able to find the trails where her mother had shown her how to recognize helpful and harmful flowers, roots, berries, trees, and herbs.

What would her life have been like, if she’d been able to heal Jason? If he’d never been hurt in the first place? She might still be living in the gable room in Andrea’s house, her door across from Andrea’s door. She might have avoided some of the pain that she was now hoping to leave behind her. She would have tended her mother’s grave as faithfully as she’d once vowed. Andrea had promised to look after it, but Rayvin still felt guilty about abandoning her mother’s remains. Visiting her would be one of her first priorities, once she got settled in.

Lost in her thoughts, the appearance of red and blue pulsating lights in her rearview mirrors escaped her attention for a full five minutes. A brief pulsing siren woke her up. Shock and disbelief exploded in her chest and throat, as much from interrupted anticipation of the journey’s end as from interrupted anticipation of the journey’s end as from embarrassment. Her heart accelerated with adrenaline, and she had to fight the urge to accelerate.

BUY IT NOW:

http://www.melange-books.com/authors/torilridgewood/windandshadow.html

Available in PDF, HMTL, or paperback!

4/20 — Enjoy a Latte and some Vampires with me!

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This is an all day Eloop chat at The Latte Lounge at Coffee Time Romance featuring the work of Vampire Book Realm Authors. Over 30 VBR Authors will be participating in the event.

Denyse Bridger- Special Giveaway
Cinsearae S.- Special Giveaway and Mystery Prize
Lisa Kessler- Special Giveaway
Maya DeLeina- Special Giveaway
Aquita Lane
Tamara Monteau
Jodie Pierce
Catherine Green
Jeff Dawson- Special Package Giveaway
Tricia Schneider
Tara Fox Hall- Special Giveaway
Siobhan Muir
Lisa Carlisle- Special Giveaway
J. Annas Walker- Special Giveaway
Amy Mah
Cornelia Amiri- Special Giveaway
Celine Chatillon- Special Giveaway
Suzi M.- Special Giveaway
Janet Breakfield
Katalyn Sage
R.E. Mullins- Special Giveaway

Special Giveaways and Packages Include: Signed Trading Cards, Bookmarks, Print Books, eBooks, Clothing, Posters, Gift Cards, and mystery accessories.

Readers: Join us anytime between 12am and 11:59pm on April 20th to explore all type of genre of Vampire Books. You might just find wonderful gifts for your friends, family and yourself! Many of the VBR Authors will be giving away prizes as well.

http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/board/forumdisplay.php?f=435

I’ll be doing a Special Giveaway as well: one lucky commenter will receive a fantastic promo package including a first-run signed copy (reserved) of my coming release, Wind and Shadow: Book One of the Talbot Trilogy, as well as a notebook, a mug, a pen, a t-shirt, and a magnet, with some mystery goodies!

WindShadowFinal2

See you on April 20th at Coffee Time Romance!