May I Go Play?
Page 8
I almost fell from the hammock as I saw more movement from the corner of my eye. I whipped my head around, preparing to launch from the hammock and run, but stopped.
It was a guy. His long, blond hair was shaggy to his shoulders and in desperate need of a cut. I couldn’t see his face, but beneath his white t-shirt, his shoulders were broad and his waist narrow, tapering into a pair of tight blue jeans. He was headed towards the front of the house.
For a moment, I thought, The guy from the woods, but I realized almost immediately that it wasn’t. The guy in the woods didn’t have all that hair, and he’d been much shorter as well as a heck of a lot stockier.
“Um. Hello!” I yelled.
The poor boy must have jumped three feet in the air. He whirled around, a bouquet of flowers pressed against his chest. He had ridiculously pale blue eyes as wide as saucers on a breathtaking face. He was deeply tanned, and his nose was on the large-ish side and had obviously been broken once or twice, but that dimple in his chin was awful cute.
I eyed the bouquet of white daisies in his hand. “Who are you and why are you here?”
“I’m Sloan.” He held up the flowers. “These are for Rita.”
I sat up at the mention of my grandmother’s name, the hammock swaying beneath me. “That’s my Granny. You do know…” I let my voice trail off. I hated telling people she was dead.
“Yeah.” His iceberg-colored eyes dropped to the bouquet and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “She was a friend. She loved daisies.”
What in the world was some young guy doing bringing flowers for Granny?
And it clicked—the bouquet of daisies on the front porch the day we arrived. “Oh. You bring them often?”
Sloan nodded. “Every week.”
I tossed my legs over the side of the hammock and dropped to the soft grass. When his pretty eyes drifted to my cleavage and then snapped guiltily to my face, I flushed, all too aware that I was in an itsy-bitsy black bikini and blue jean shorts. I wanted to cover up the C-cups bulging from my bathing suit, but I refrained. Better to not draw attention to “the girls” by making a big deal of it.
“That’s really nice of you,” I said after a long, awkward pause in which we stared at each other across the back yard.
“Well, Rita took care of me—” He stopped, his voice strangled. The bouquet dangled from his hand, and he looked away, his eyes blinking. “She was a good friend.”
I raised an eyebrow, but squashed it back down just as fast. Sure, a guy my age so seriously befriending my eighty-year-old grandmother was a bit weird, but who was I to judge? I slept beneath what was probably hundred-fifty-year-old slave blood and I couldn’t stand it if my socks didn’t match right in the drawer.
Sloan finally glanced back up. “So, are you guys here to pack up the house?”
I shook my head and moved forward a few steps. “We’re moving in, actually. Hey, do you want to come in for some iced tea?”
He grinned, tapping the bouquet against his thigh. “Make it coffee, and I’ll say yes.”
I couldn’t help but smile back, albeit a little bashfully. “Deal.”
THE HOUSE is available now!
Other Books by the Author
SERIES
The Temple, Book One in the Vale Avari Novels
Abigail, Book One in the Witch Faery Trilogy
Mother of All, Book One in the Hedgewitch Mysteries
The House, Book One in the Old Houses Series
Heaven Below, Book One in the Goddess of Ptalonia Trilogy
His Haunting Kiss, Book One in the His Kiss Series
Saffron, Book One in the Vengeance Goddess Serials
STAND-ALONES
Constant State of Disaster
Cause & Effect
Eternal Youth, co-written with Julia Crane
Visions of the Witch, co-written with Tara West
SHORT STORIES
The Darkest Night, A Hedgewitch Novelette
Underneath, a FREE novelette
May I Go Play?, a short story
PIECES: A Collection of Short Fiction
Short fiction featured in these anthologies:
Eclective: Halloween Collection
Eclective: Holiday Collection
Eclective: Celtic Collection
Eclective: Pride Collection
Eclective: Haunted Collection
Eclective: Apocalypse Collection
Eclective: Time Collection
Pink Snowbunnies In Hell
About the Author
Heather Marie Adkins loves magick and words, but not necessarily in that order. She can often be found wrangling chickens in her backyard, pulling weeds from her herb garden, and saving field mice from her cats—when she isn’t plotting her eventual move to Ireland. She worships the moon and stars, and loves the feel of grass beneath her bare feet.
Heather is a multi-genre writer whose influences include RL Stine, Jennifer Crusie, Kim Harrison, Mary Higgins Clark, and Jim Butcher. She is the author of numerous titles including: The Temple (Vale Avari, Book One); Abigail (Witch Faery, Book One); His Haunting Kiss (His Kiss, Book One); Mother of All (Hedgewitch Mysteries, Book One); and Heaven Below (Goddess of Ptalonia, Book One). Her novels have hit several bestseller lists since she began publishing in June 2011, and many have been nominated for awards at the eFestival of Words. Her contemporary romance, Constant State of Disaster, was a 2nd round finalist in the 2013 Amazon Breakthrough Novel Competition.
She lives in north-central Kentucky with a house full of animals and the love of her life—all of whom drive her crazy.
Heather loves to hear from readers! She can be found daily (mostly) at her blog, heather.bishoffs.com, so visit and leave a comment!
You can email her at heather@heathermarieadkins.com
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For more information on Heather and her books, visit her website at heathermarieadkins.com.
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To My Readers:
I’m just going to lay it all out for you—I am an indie author. Everything I do, I do without the help or backing of a publishing company. This means I pay for everything up front: cover design, editing, proofing, interior design. These services can cost upwards of $2000 per book, if not more. Unfortunately, I don’t have the kind of resources available to pay for these things as fast as I write; I’m just a Starbucks barista in my spare time! So I do a lot of it on my own, or with the help of close friends and colleagues.
This note is to let you know this particular book has been edited and proofread within the realm of my ability, but it’s probably not perfect. If you see any errors, or you have any general comments about the storyline or characters—what works for you, what doesn’t work for you, etc. please don’t hesitate to contact me at heathermariewrites@gmail.com. I want your feedback. Every cent I earn from this book is going into my editing fund, and with any feedback I receive, I will do rewrites and a massive professional edit once I’ve raised enough money.
If you’re interested in becoming a beta reader for me, drop me a line at heathermariewrites@gmail.com. I’m always looking for people willing to help me make my books better.
One day, I hope that my novels will be my career, and they’ll pay for publishing services anytime I need them. Until then, thank you for supporting me, and I hope you enjoyed the read!
Heather
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