“I’m hungry, grandma. And I want my Momma.” Tears hovered in my eyes but I would never let them fall. It made my father angry of I cried because he said I was a “sissy.” Never knowing exactly what that meant, the tone alone had me sure it wasn’t something I wanted to be. So they may have pooled in my eyes, but they would never fall.
My mother had told me these people were my grandparents. That day was actually the first time I’d ever met them. Essentially, I was in a houseful of strangers.
“Mijo, you can call me Abuela. We’re going to get you enrolled in school so you can grow to be a smart man someday, like you’re a smart little boy, now. Okay? Your momma, well, she has some things to do.” My uncle snorted and I looked at him in fear. “You’re safe, and we are so happy to have you here, Niño.” No one looked happy. It was scary and confusing.
That was the first day I met her. After filling my belly, my Abuela sent me outside to play in the backyard with the scrappy dog they had back there. It was a dog like I’d never seen, he was coarse with grey, red and white hairs. He had a little white mark on his forehead and he sat there looking at me with his head tipped to the side.
It wasn’t long before he was chasing me, nipping gently at my heels, until he knocked me over and I laughed, coming up with leaves and sticks stuck all over me. He was pouncing around me and barking like he wanted me to get back up so we could start the game over, when I heard the sweetest voice I’d ever heard.
“Who are you? And why are you playing wiff Buster?” She was standing at the fence and she was just taller than the short, bent-up, chain-link fence so she could look over the top rail at me. Her little fingers were hooked through the links and I noticed she had chipped bright pink nail polish on them. Golden hair was pulled up in a wild ponytail, and she had the biggest bow I’d ever seen right on top of it. It was hanging off to the side, and wisps of blonde hair blew in front of her eyes. Tawny-brown eyes stared at me, that had little green flecks in them, and reminded me of a caramel apple I once got at a carnival.
“That’s a really big bow. It’s really pink.”
“Fanks.” Her eyes continued to look at me with expectation. “I’m Sera. It’s short for Serafina.”
“That’s pretty. I’m Indigo.” My dirty hand went out to shake hers but she just looked at me. When I realized she didn’t know what I was doing, my hand fell awkwardly to my side where my fingers just wigged aimlessly until I shoved both hands in my pockets. I’m sure I sat there with my head tipped to the side, just like Buster had to me. She was like a puzzle I couldn’t figure out. There were very few children my age I had interacted with, so she was an enigma.
“Indigo is a color, not a name. It’s in my big box of crayons, so I know. But it’s okay. You’re gonna be my friend ‘cause I saw you first. Okay?” She was shaking her head as if this was a foregone conclusion.
“Ummm sure.” My Abuela called me in, and as I turned to leave the little girl next door shouted and I turned my head to look at her once more.
“See you later, friend!” Her little pink-tipped fingers waved at me and a big smile spread across her face. With the sun shining from behind her, it lit up her golden hair like a halo. Not that I can be sure because, like I said, I was only five, but I’m pretty sure I fell in love with her that day.
Book number three has come to a conclusion. What the heck? I cannot even begin to tell you how I got here. It seems like a dream.
Penny, as always, I thank you for believing in me from the beginning. I truly believe, without your motivation and encouragement, this book and the two before it would never exist. Sybil Bartel, author extraordinaire—you are amazing and humble. I appreciate you more than you will ever know. You and Penny are really the ones who made all this happen through your encouragement, information and patience with a new author you didn’t even really know. <3
To my two new book-loving friends, Brenda and Lisa, who I have Lani Lynn Vale, and her group Lani’s Lovelies, to thank for uniting us—thank you for singing my praises. And thank you for making me almost cry with your amazing compliments on my writing. Book signings, here we come!
Clarise Tan, continues to outdo herself with every cover, and this one completely kicks ass! Of course, that could have just a little to do with Eric McKinney’s amazingly hot photos of Mark Somsky. Eric, you are a photographic genius. Mark, well, you humbled me by agreeing to grace my cover, and actually taking the time to answer my questions personally. I’ll send you a big stick with your copy of this book—to beat the ladies off with. ;)
Stacey, your diligent work makes my words look beautiful and professional. For that, there will never be thanks enough. You are still a goddess.
Ladies of Kristine’s Crazy Fangirls, thank you for your advice and the smiles you give me with your comments. Oh, and thank you for being patient with me when I don’t post daily because I’m in the writing zone or—ugh, working. Y’all rock.
And as always, my last-but-never-least, a massive thank you to America’s servicemen and women who protect our freedom on a daily basis. They do their duty, leaving their families for weeks, months, and years at a time, without asking for praise or thanks. I would also like to remind the readers that not all combat injuries are visible nor do they heal easily. These silent, wicked injuries wreak havoc on their minds and hearts while we go about our days completely oblivious. Thank you all for your service.
Kristine Allen lives in beautiful Central Texas with her adoring husband. They have four brilliant, wacky and wonderful children. She is surrounded by twenty six acres, where her seven horses, six dogs and three cats run the place. Kristine realized her dream of becoming a contemporary romance author after years of reading books like they were going out of style and having her own stories running rampant through her head. She works as a nurse, but in stolen moments, taps out ideas and storylines until they culminate in characters and plots that pull her readers in and keep them entranced for hours.
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