The Rare Pearl (Broken Water Series Book 1)
Page 21
She smiled apologetically. “It’s vegetable soup from a can. It’s not exactly the first choice of food I’d like you to try in this realm, but I’m afraid it will have to do.”
As she opened a cabinet and reached for bowls he raised his brows at how the fitted pants hugged her behind. He certainly liked the clothing she wore. In fact, with all the other interesting things to look at in this room, he couldn’t keep his gaze off her. She set their meager meal on the table and opened the refrigerator. She took out two bottles of dark liquid. As if an afterthought, she breezed to the sink and returned with a glass of water. She handed him the glass.
“Your welcome to try what I’m drinking, but if you don’t like it, you don’t have to drink it,” she said, sliding into her chair.
He sat and then mimicked how she twisted the cap off the Pepsi bottle. She took a long sip that ended with an “Aahh!” He lifted the bottle to his lips. The effervescent liquid filled his mouth. The carbonation burned his tongue and the taste was sharp and long lasting. After he swallowed, he tried not to make a face, but he could tell his efforts were unsuccessful when Harmony cracked up laughing.
He grinned back at her, noticing a new sense of ease about her. He ate spoonfuls of soup, still smiling at her in the silence. This wasn’t so bad—a cozy dwelling and a woman who he believed could make him happy.
With their bellies content, they moved into the living room. Harmony knelt down and dug around in a pile of books. She brought one over to Kodiak, who sat on the sofa.
“This is something my grandmother put together—photos and newspaper clippings of our family and local events from years ago. I think there’s a picture of Calder in here,” she said. She flipped through the newspaper articles until she found what she was looking for.
He leaned in to look at a clipping regarding the peace treaty signed at the Wentworth-by-the-Sea in 1905.
Harmony got excited over one photo of a group of men on the veranda. “Here it is! When I met Calder, I thought I’d seen him before. After discovering he’d been here for the Treaty, I immediately thought of this photograph. Look, I think this is him.” She pointed, and both their heads bent forward.
“He looks younger, but it’s definitely him.”
“I can’t believe he broke the law and took up with my great-great-grandmother. Then abandon her while she was pregnant!” Her voice became small. “She must have been heartbroken. I wonder why he didn’t stay. It sounded like they loved each other.”
“It was his duty to return to his people. He’s a valuable Linker.”
“You’re a valuable Diver. Do you want to return?”
Kodiak confessed, “No. I can’t go back…not without you. And it’s not about the lavender pearl ring. Well, it was at first, but then it was about you. Harmony, you are the treasure.” Pulling the scrapbook from her hands, he set it on the table at their knees. He placed his hand on the fabric of her jeans. “I basically lost my family when my mother died. I have nothing to hold me in that realm. It doesn’t matter where I am as long as I have you by my side. I’m of the Aquapopulo and you are mostly human, so I don’t know if or how this will work, but we have to try. I need it to work because I’ve fallen in love with you.”
Her eyes grew enormous and she blinked back tears. “Kodi, we haven’t known each other that long, but I feel the same way. I love you too.”
His mouth was on hers, his kiss driving out any doubt, though they both knew odds were against them.
Holding her he whispered passionate promises. “I’m not going to leave you like Calder left your great-great-grandmother. I won’t repeat history. We will work together to help protect both our realms. And I will always treasure you.”
***
The unlikely couple clung together. Beyond their window, far out in the ocean, a man with scales broke the surface. As a god, Suijin could cross between the realms, but throughout all the years he spent in those realms he only ever desired one thing. Harmony Parker.
The forsaken Pearl: book two
1
The Aquapopulean Realm
Finn crouched, his fingers brushing the dusty soil. The sun’s rays penetrated his dark hair, intensifying the heat; there was no cooling breeze. The grasses a few feet away stood as tall as his shoulder and stretched for acres, their delicate flowers creating a sea of purple. Yet, as the farmers had claimed, the dry weather affected the tender early spring crops. Finn squinted against the scorching sun as he scanned the faces of the children who had followed their chieftain up the hill to the field.
“Boy.” Finn singled out the wildling whose chin rose a notch mightier than the others. The farmer’s son strutted forward. His arched neck made him look like he was trying to appear taller than his mates. His disheveled hair matted around his ears, and dirt shadowed his neck. Finn’s expression was impassive, but he felt a mixture of admiration and empathy toward the child’s tough persona. Neglect was indeed something to overcome. At age twelve, Finn had been forced to look out for himself. After he was taken from his family, he ended up in a boy’s domicile within the city walls. He was a displaced human in a strange world who had to overcome the obstacles of being different from the other children. Every civilization had its foundlings. The Linker who had brought him through the portal had been exiled, orphaning Finn. In those early years he’d learned harsh lessons: to hunt for his food or starve and to stand up for himself to prove his worth. The city of plenty rewarded its productive citizens, and Finn strived to contribute, despite his situation. His diligent efforts had paid off. He was the chieftain now.
Finn tipped his head; the boy followed his gaze down the hill to where the farmhouse stood. The stone structure next to the large barn was modest. The farmer’s wife was hanging the wash on a line. She glanced over her shoulder up the hill, no doubt to catch a glimpse of the new chieftain. “Tell your mother to bring in her linens. I will summon the rain.”
The boy beamed, revealing his incoming front teeth, white against his tanned skin. Eager to do the chieftain’s bidding, the boy dashed away. “It’s happening! The chief will summon the rain!” he yelled ecstatically. The boys had been desperate to witness their chieftain’s amazing ability. They had heard stories of the human man who lived in the city and could control the weather.
Finn stood and inhaled the floral sent mingled with earth. He nodded at the farmer and the men who worked the field. He called, “Take shelter if you wish. I will bring a drenching rain.”
The workers moved toward the nearby woods. The small group of trees offered little protection, but this was the first chance they would get to watch this miraculous show. The leather-faced farmer puffed with pride, and his respect for his leader shone in his dark eyes. “It’s good of you to help us, Chief. Thank you,” he said humbly, before turning to yell at the neighboring children who’d gathered. “Get to the house—all of you!” His harsh command sent the lot dashing down the hill.
Finn watched the farmer join the workers in the woods and then glanced down the hill. The woman had collected her linens, the full basket on her hip, and swung her free arm at the children, shooing them toward the door.
The sky above the farm was clear and blue. Finn looked to the east as he raised his bare arms. He would draw the moisture clouds from the ocean. He worked his fingers as if coaxing the energy around him. Soon dark clouds appeared on the horizon and then rolled overland ominously. A vibrating roll of thunder announced its arrival, and the air temperature cooled. Raising his powerful arm perpendicular to the earth, Finn reached skyward and curled his fingers into a fist, harnessing the energy of the rainstorm. The clouds were overhead now. Fat drops smacked the dust. Quickly, random drops became a downpour.
Finn didn’t hear the cheering of the workers or see the children, who’d refused to go inside and instead jumped in the puddles. He stood with his eyes closed, concentrating on the isolated rain. At the sound of thunder, tremendously close, Finn opened his eyes. His soaked hair plastered his cheek and
neck. Water droplets bounced off his bronzed skin. The leather belts he wore around his shoulder and waist darkened as they became saturated. Releasing his fist, he slowly relaxed his arm. The spongy earth told Finn this soaking would prove sufficient for the crops.
Reaching the wood’s edge, Finn gathered the reins of his elk, tethered to a branch. To the farmer, he said, “You may send your boy to me in the city to keep me abreast of the crop’s progress.”
“I will do so, Chief. Thank you,” responded the farmer, who seemed surprised by Finn’s request.
Finn swung into the saddle and headed north toward the walled city. The elk trotted past the farmhouse through the puddles at the end of the hill. The children ran to follow him, but Finn extended his hand and swirled his wrist, dropping snow in the valley. The snow stopped the children in their tracks. They thrust their heads back to stick their tongues out and catch the drifting snowflakes. As Finn spurred the animal on, the snowflakes again became rain.
Author’s Note
My imagination is continuously weaving plots whether I’m folding laundry, walking the dog, or driving the kids to practice. One of the fun things about being an author is when one of my many creative ideas comes together, especially when a particular idea develops into a story. In The Rare Pearl for instance, I had already planned the Aquapopulean race in my mind but wanted to give validity to the origin. When I searched the internet for information on evolution I came across the Aquatic Ape Theory. As I read through this fascinating theory I was thrilled to build the factitious Aquapopulean race I had conceived on the support of a concept already studied by scientists in the field of anthropology. This set the foundation for the Broken Water Series.
Another fun aspect to writing is where the inspiration comes from. I’m often inspired by historic events and the diverse locations I travel to. I like to use authentic places to help the reader better connect to the story. I used the Wentworth-by-the-Sea hotel in this story because it’s inspired me for decades. This building has an amazing past and has housed many famous guests, my favorite being the sharpshooter Annie Oakley who was hired to teach female guests to shoot. This hotel closed in 1982 when I was ten years old. As a kid, taking long drives with my folks along New Hampshire’s scenic coast, I’d stare in awe at the turn of the century hotel. As the years passed, I saw the Wentworth fall into disrepair and it weighed heavy on my heart. I always wondered what she had been like in her heyday and wished the building would be saved. The Wentworth with its tumultuous history, elegant architecture, and grand setting is one incredible source of inspiration I had to write about. Giving my characters Harmony Parker and her relatives a connection to the Wentworth’s history helped fuel this series. I used the hotel’s tragic event in 1989 when eighty percent of it was torn down as a climactic scene in The Rare Pearl. I took the snapshot in the front of this book not long afterward the teardown, when only the original facade remained. Like many great stories with tales that rollercoaster from splendor to tragedies to happy endings—the same goes for the Wentworth-by-the-Sea. She was eventually purchased, refurbished and reopened in 2003. After the reopening I finally got my chance to step foot inside the building for the first time and stay as a guest—it left me giddy. The rooms, décor and service were top notch bringing her into a new era, but I found myself wondering about the days long ago and what kind of stories she could tell if her walls could talk.
Also by jennifer w. smith
Broken Water Series:
The Rare Pearl: Book One
The Forsaken Pearl: Book Two
The Vanishing Pearl: Book Three
Legends Mate ~ A Wiccan Haus Novel and spin-off from the Broken Water Series
Flying Backwards ~ Stand Alone Romance Novel
Landing in Love Romance Series:
Defying Gravity
…more coming soon
Holding Pattern
Turbulent Kisses
Flight Plan
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jennifer W. Smith lives in a leafy New Hampshire town with her husband, two children, Balinese kitty, and Rough Collie. Jennifer’s passionate about traveling and living a good, simple life. She is always happy to hear from readers, so leave a message at JenniferWSmith.com if you’d like. And please let others know how you liked the book by leaving a review on Amazon.com and/or Goodreads.com.
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