Excerpt:
Chapter One
Joy
Ever since I’ve been old enough to kick off on a
condor with my own two chicken feet, I’ve been drilled to mind my own business.
Mind your own business, the first of the American Ten
Commandments.
It’s not one I subscribe to, even though in our
community, not minding my own business means more than social suicide; it’s a
crime when we ascend above ground.
For thousands of years we deeems have kept away from
the creatures running over our heads with their five-toed feet. So if anyone in
my community gets wind of the risky job I’m on these days, I’m practically a
goner. But that doesn’t stop me from shadowing a certain teenage fivetoe.
There’s also a totally different occupational hazard
involved in this position I’ve created for myself, one I’m suffering from right
now: this job occasionally makes school seem relatively stimulating. Yawn. I’ve
played too many Angry Condor games to count since Starra got involved in some
fantasy book a couple of hours ago and lost contact with the real world. Even
if I knew how to become visible to the fivetoe eye and suddenly revealed
myself, I bet she wouldn’t notice me, the cute teen perched on her windowsill.
Time simply refuses to advance, and I have to resort
to counting the spider eggs cocooned in their nest on a nearby tree branch. A
sudden sigh interrupts my lame occupation. There’s a starry look in the big
eyes, and I notice the novel is slipping out of Starra’s dreamy grip. This is
my window of opportunity! I finger the starchy edge of the book jacket and coax
the book forward.
Thud. The book falls to the floor, and the movement seems to
bring Starra back to her senses. At last she grabs a hoodie and sets out,
probably for one of her night excursions on the Vista Del Mar Path. Are we
running or biking tonight?
Running it is. I jog behind her, finding the excursion
by the shoreline an improvement to watching her read. At least we are moving.
She runs for half an hour, at a speed faster than the
sea turtle pace usual for fivetoes. Then she slows to a stop at a jagged rock,
half-submerged in the ocean. I groan quietly and contemplate leaving. From
experience, I know she’ll climb to the top of her rock and dream away. I
start backing off, but when I’m some fifty feet away, I look back. Starra makes
a pretty picture there, her silhouette perched high on the rock. Her long legs
are tucked under her, and her head hangs back as she keeps her gaze on the
stars above. If only she would let loose the heavy dark mane of hair she always
twists up at the back of her neck, she would truly look like a mermaid risen
from the sea.
Something pulls me back to her. I can’t explain it,
but I have a feeling trouble is lurking nearby, waiting to snatch her in its
net.
My chicken feet make an about face and follow Starra
home as she takes the shorter route through town.
Author Loren Secretts
Loren Secretts was raised in a book-filled home, in a sleepy east coast suburb of the US. These factors are undoubtedly responsible for her early design of a number of exciting imaginary worlds that she could escape to from time to time during her childhood.
In her teen years, between schoolwork and lending an ear to her friends, Loren had less opportunity to go AWOL. Instead, her experience as a confidant to others inspired her to major in psychology in college and earn her M.A. in the field on the west coast.
As an adult, Loren has found fulfillment in her work with children and families for more than a decade. Her passion for writing was revived when she discovered that she enjoyed delving into the human psyche to write psychological reports.
But clients' reports are safe with Loren, who guards secrets fastidiously. Indeed, one of her aspirations is to work as a psychotherapist for the CIA, but since she now lives with her family in Canada, that dream will have to await its turn…a Rafflecopter giveaway
Hope you had a lovely Mother's Day, Katie.
ReplyDeleteThank you for hosting me!
Wishing you many great reads!