Sneak Peak Under My Skin

I love the opportunity to read bits not written into the book. In this scene, you'll get a glimpse of the main character, Eryn. She is such a fun, sarcastic character and the ending of the prequel really captures this.

Judith worked with the amazing illustrator and graphic designer, Val Cox. Below I've included her stunning pictures - meet Eryn, Alec and Wade!

The Prequel....

Mom and I stood in the clearing, a fine mist of fog hovered a foot off the ground, snaking through the tall grasses. The damp ground smelled fresh and inviting. A gentle breeze brought the savoury scents of the forest to us. One scent stood out above the others. In synchronism we turned our heads. A deer pranced at the edge of the woods.

Shooting me a mischievous glance, Mom raised her arms, embracing the change. Her elegant form shimmered before me. Her hair whipped around in a wind of paranorm making. Energy crackled in the air. An instant later a sleek black wolf stood in my mother’s place.

The change took me then too.

Together we charged through the grass. Black wolf and grey wolf. Mother and daughter. Wolven.

The deer bolted.

We separated, flanking the panicked creature. In wolf form the complications of my human life slipped away. No more questions, just the thrill of the hunt. I was strong.

Invincible.

A different scent lit the air. Ignoring the black wolf’s sharp cry, I darted after the more intense lure.

A snarl. A lunge. A bite.

I feasted as if I’d never had a fresh kill before.

“Eryn, what have you done?” Mom, returned to her human form, stared down at me, horrified. Her beautiful porcelain skin paled to a chalky white, her delicate features twisted into a grimace. The revulsion in her eyes gutted me as if she’d swiped a claw across my belly.

I glanced down at the earth. At the bloodstained shoe that remained. A human. I had attacked a human. My stomach rolled.

“Help me!” I tried to scream, but in wolf form I couldn’t sound out the words.

Mom backed away, shaking her head.

I ran to her, not fast enough to reach her side.

She slipped into the mist.

Leaving me and the beast that had slipped over me like a second skin.

I woke on a strangled sob. My teeth throbbed in my mouth. The coppery taste of blood lingered. The hum of an old-fashioned slide projector brought me back to the present.

Someone had flicked on the lights.

“That was must have been some daydream,” Mrs. Stantial said over the snickers of the entire art history class. “Are you alright, Eryn?”

I stared blankly into her concerned, I-bet-this-kid-needs-therapy eyes and let out a jerky breath.

“Oh, I’m just peachy.”

Exclusive Firespell Sneak Peek + Contest

We walked through the narrow space until it dead-ended at the stone wall that bounded St. Sophia’s.

I frowned at the wall and the grass and gothic buildings that lay beyond it. “We walked around two buildings just to come back to St. Sophia’s?”

“Check your left, Einstein.”

I did as ordered, and had to blink back surprise. I’d expected to see more alley or bricks, or Dumpsters. But that’s not what was there. Instead, the alley gave way to a square of lush, green lawn filled with pillars—narrow pyramids of gray concrete that punctured the grass like a garden of thorns. They varied in height from three feet to five, like a strange gauntlet of stone.

We walked closer. “What is this?”

“It’s a memorial garden,” she said. “It used to be part of the convent grounds, but the city discovered the nuns didn’t actually own this part of the block. Those guys did,” she said, pointing at the building that sat behind the bank. “St. Sophia’s agreed to put in the stone wall, and the building agreed to keep this place as-is, provided that the St. Sophia’s folks promised not to raise a stink about losing it.”

“Huh,” I said, skimming my fingers across the top of one nubby pillar.

“It’s a great place to get lost,” she said, and as if on cue, disappeared between the columns. It took a minute to find her in the forest of them . And when I reached her in the middle, she wasn’t alone.

Scout stood stiffly, lips apart, eyes wide, staring at the two boys who stood across from her. They were both in slacks and sweaters, a button-down shirt and tie beneath, an ensemble I assumed was the guy version of the private school uniform. The one on the right had big brown eyes, honey skin, and wavy dark hair curling over his forehead.

The one on the left had dark blond hair and blue eyes. No—not blue exactly, but a shade somewhere between blue and indigo and turquoise, like the color of a ridiculously bright spring sky. They glowed beneath his short hair, dark slashes of eyebrows, and the long lashes that fanned across those crazy eyes.

His eyebrows lifted with interest, but Scout’s voice pulled his gaze to her. I, on the other hand, had a little more trouble, and had to drag my gaze away from this boy in the garden.

“What are you doing here?” she asked them, suspicion in her gaze.

The boy with brown eyes shrugged innocently. “Just seeing a little of Chicago.”

“I guess that means I didn’t miss a meeting,” Scout said, her voice dry. “Don’t you have class?” “There wasn’t a meeting,” he confirmed. “We’re on our lunch break, just like you are. We’re out for a casual stroll, enjoying this beautiful fall day.” He glanced at me and offered a grin. “I’m guessing you’re St. Sophia’s latest fashion victim? I’m Michael Garcia.”

“Lily Parker,” I said with a grin. So this was the boy Veronica talked about. Or more important, the boy Scout had avoided talking about. Given the warmth in his eyes as he stole glances at Scout, I made a prediction that Veronica wasn’t going to win that battle.

“Hello, Lily Parker,” Michael said, then bobbed his head toward blue eyes. “This is Jason Shepherd.”

“Live and in person,” Jason said with a smile, dimples arcing at each corner of his mouth. My heart beat a little bit faster; those dimples were killers. “It’s nice to meet you, Lily.”

“Ditto,” I said, offering back a smile. But not too much of a smile. No sense in playing my entire hand at once.

Cross-posted at: LiyanaLand! on 4 January 2010.

Lovin' Friday: An Excerpt from Eyes Like Stars

One is an air fairy, a Player in one of Shakespeare's plays. The other is an orphan, living in a theatre. When you add two of the most mischievous characters to ever come into creation together, you get nothing but an uncontrollable hot burst of steamin' hot air, funky dialogue and a heck load of sparkling spiciness. Let's welcome to the stage, Ariel and Bertie from Eyes Like Stars!

"I'm a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. Care to join me?"

A moment passed in which she thought he'd refuse, then-

"How could I resist such an invitation?"

"Glad to hear it," Bertie said with an unintentional sway. She righted herself even as Ariel's arms appeared around her. Her right hand sought out his left, and she wrapped her other arm around his neck.

"Just what," he asked, "do you think you're doing now?"

Bertie tossed her hair so that it flicked him in the face before falling over her shoulders in a messy blue tangle. "Dancing with you, unless I'm much mistaken."

"I think it's customary for the man to lead," he said. The only thing that moved was his left eyebrow, which slid up about an inch.

"How did I know you would say that?" Skilled fingers strummed the unseen strings of a guitar. Castenets beckoned, and Bertie wanted to snap her fingers, stomp her feet, clap her hands. "Lead on, pretty boy."

Ariel gave her a look that contained a lot of something, but he didn't say a word. Instead, he adjusted her arms with light touches of his hands, all the while keeping his upper body pressed to hers.

"This song comes from the center," he said. "So we'll move the center first."

"The center of what?" The butterflies drifted out of his hair as he leaned over her. They fluttered through Bertie's already swimming head, brushed over something dark and sleeping, and roused it from slumber.

Ariel tapped her lightly on the small of her back. "The center of you."

"My cream filling?" she suggested.

There was a moment of complete stillness and silent contemplations before Ariel smiled. "Yes, Bertie. Move your cream filling first, and your feet will follow."