Since I've been wrapped up in Hidden Embers and Tempest Rising lately (I can't believe I have three books coming out under three different names this spring) I haven't had much time to read or see movies. The fact that Mr. Wolff is sick right now (and an exceptionally bad and demanding patient) doesn't help either. S o for today's blog, I thought I'd copy what I did over at my other blog and give you a sneak peak at Tempest.
I pulled out the mirror and held it up to my left ear, tried to look at the odd bumps there without letting Mark or Brianne see. But as I got my first glimpse of the strange little slash in the mirror, my heart literally skipped a beat. Then two.
Trying (and failing) not to freak out, I frantically switched the mirror to my right side, only to see the same thing there. A short (no more than three-quarters of an inch) shallow cut ran directly beneath each of my ears. The cuts gaped a little on each side, despite the fact that they looked fully healed—there was none of the redness and dried blood that you would expect from a new injury.
My hands started to shake—so noticeably that I made myself dump my compact back in my purse. Mark and Bri were staring at me like I’d lost my mind, but I didn’t know what to say to them, didn’t even know if I could look at them.
I hadn’t cut myself in the ocean, hadn’t hurt myself and been unaware. No, nothing that simple would do for me. Instead, it was a million times worse. A billion times worse.
No, make that a trillion times worse.
Because one look at the slightly raised, slightly open slices and I knew exactly what they were. After all, I’d seen them before—every day of the first eleven years of my life—on my mother.
The short yet rocky journey between my life and
complete and utter insanity had just been fast-tracked. Sometime between checking myself over in the mirror before leaving the house and right now, I had grown gills.
So, what do you think?