Coming late Spring 2018

EXCERPT (from Chapter 1)

The last place I expected to see a rock star was in my little town’s old fashioned soda and candy shop snarfing down a root beer float and candied fruit slices; but, there he was, Scott Jaynes, singer and guitarist for the band, Banshee.

A drop of ice cream sat on the corner of his lip. Hazel eyes looked me over as if they’d known me for a thousand years. He smiled. I smiled back. Scott did something then that made my insides flip and my heart begin to skip beats. He licked his lips, his tongue lingering at the corner of his mouth. The moment…slow, sensual, and tantalizing. I stared, partly fascinated by the way his tongue moved. He gave me a wicked grin. I didn’t find it amusing. Nonna warned me about their tricks, and yet I still fell for it. He seemed quite pleased with himself, if the smile on his face was any indicator.

Honestly, I wanted to dislike him. Planned to dislike him. I didn’t want to be here, but I didn’t have a choice. He tilted his head and stared at me. My head seemed to buzz, becoming heavy. Was he trying to read my mind? Son of a… He chuckled. He knows that I know his secret. And, he doesn’t seem to care.

I gave him one of my best fuck off looks and he laughed. Long and loud, drawing the attention from the other patrons. It annoyed me. He annoyed me. But, he knew that as well. I could tell from the smarmy smirk on his face.

“Why can’t you be normal?”

“Love, rock stars aren’t, and will never be, normal. It’s why I am one. It’s fun, no?”

I shook my head and looked heavenward. “I hate you.”

Scott returned his attention to the inside bottom of the sundae glass, his spoon making loud clinking sounds as he dug. I watched as he pulled out a prized cherry. It sat nestled on the spoon. He turned, grinned then threw the cherry in the air, and as it came down, he caught it in his waiting open mouth. He chewed, swallowed then smirked and winked at me. “Cherries are the best. Aren’t they?”

“Are you trying to irritate me?”

“Why? Are you?”

“Never. Mind,” I groused. “Shouldn’t you be in Boston prepping for your show? What are you doing here in Salem?”

He flashed me a pearly-white grin as he tilted his head. “Apparently, irritating you.”

“Apparently.” I watched his grin fade away as he picked up a candied strawberry slice and begin to nibble it. I put my hand out. “Merissa.”

“I know.” He nodded then grabbed my hand and kissed the back of it. “To answer your question, I have a show in Boston tomorrow night, but I came here to Salem to spend the night and see what the big fascination was with this city.”

“So, you can give normal answers when you need to?”

The grin creeped back to his face. “Why you hating on me, Merissa? It’s clear you want me. Don’t fight it, love.”

“You’re infuriating, yanno that?”

“Ooh, infuriating and irritating.” He jumped off his stool and chuckled. “My hotel is a block away we should jump into bed together and fuck each other silly.”

I scrunched up my face. With a shake of my head I turned towards the door. If this fool really thought I was jumping into bed with him he had another thing coming.

“Love, I was joking, but if you insist.”

I stopped midstride and Scott bumped against my back. He touched a piece of my hair.

“I’d follow you anywhere, a ghrá,” he spoke softy.

At a loss for words I spun around and pushed him. I wagged my finger, started to speak then stopped. His smile was larger than the Cheshire cats’ and his eyes twinkled and spun with the magic of mirth. He was maddening and just not worth my energy. So what if the water in my scrying bowl showed me visions of him and his family; the scenes were cryptic anyways. I was starting to understand why my family wasn’t too thrilled with the Sidhe.

Pushing the door open I stepped out and the sunlight hit my eyes making them tear up. It was bright and the light burned. I found my shades in my oversized leather bag and put them on. I was definitely an evening person. Working nights at Club Chameleon as a bartender made my daytime outings a rare event. The sun was not my friend, but the moon…well, that’s different. For mid-April in New England it was an unseasonable warm day, almost 85 degrees. I turned to head back into the shop where it was cooler and smashed right into him.

Scott grabbed my shoulder, steadying me. If you knew what to look for, you could spot a masquerading fairy. Scott’s eyes were hazel, a multitude of colors at any given time. But, when working magic, such as they were now, they were the greenest of greens. I felt the spark of his energy travel over me, steadying me.

“First-time out in the sun, Merissa?”

He growled my name in my ear and a lusting ache stole over me. His magical pull, but I was having none of it. I shoved him.

“No. It’s not my first-time. I just…I’m not a day person.”

Scott half-grinned, half-smirked. “You should be used to it. The sun comes up every day here.”

“Fuck off,” I muttered half under my breath.

He laughed. It was a true laugh – you could almost hear the tinkling of bells. People in the shop watched us and smiled, seemingly enamored by Scott’s magical laugh. He grabbed my wrist and tugged me outside.

“You’re eyes are spiraling, a Ghrá.”

“Stop saying that, I am not your love.” I shook his hand off mine.

He winked. “Oh, but you will be.”

“Hmm. Someone is quite full of himself.”

With a quick nudge to my arm he smiled. “I can tell these things. You’re just in denial.”

“It isn’t going to happen, my fae friend. Actually, it can’t happen. Our worlds don’t mix like that. Your father—“

“My father can—“

“Your father is dead.” I hated to be so blunt, but there was no way around it.

Scott stopped in his tracks. His face paled. I could see it in the mirrored window. Sadness crept in replacing the anger that started moments before.

“When? How?”

“Let’s go to your hotel, we can talk freely there.”

“No. I need water. Let’s go to the harbor.”


We half ran, half walked to the small jetty in Salem Harbor. We passed, The Friendship, a ship housed within the bay and near the small lighthouse. We sat at the very end, our legs bumping against the stones. Scott’s sadness washed over me, as did his unresolved issues, anger and love for his father.

“He loved you, you know.” I inched closer to him and put my arm around his back. “I have visions and can feel emotions; I saw him and you. My scryer showed me your pasts. I know you don’t believe it, but as an outsider, he loved all his children.”

“No. You’re wrong. He loved only Davius.” Scott turned, his eye color spinning. “And, speaking of, what of that snipe?”

“Sorry, my mirror didn’t show me him.”

“That’s because he’s missing,” said a high-pitched voice from behind us.


Not to be reprinted, photocopied, or redistributed in any form without express consent from the author: S.A. Hussey.