Okay, so my novella collection came out and it contains three novellas: How to Bring Your Love Life Back from the Dead in Ten Easy Steps, Ana and the Apparition, and All Bets are Off, and I know we’re not supposed to pick our favorite child, but….
You can probably tell which story is my favorite in the collection, can’t you? (Hint: it’s Ana and the Apparition.)
Also, I do have a favorite child…but that changes from day to day so I figure that’s cool.
Here’s an excerpt from Ana and the Apparition:
Just like that, he was gone. Ana blinked. Where did he go? Had he run out of energy again? But she had so much more to talk with him about, and she’d waited all day. Her mouth dropped open. Wow, that was really unfair. Apparently life was as cruel with the dead as it was to the living. She swallowed back the hurt, while biting her lower lip. It was ridiculous to cry, so she wouldn’t. It was fine. There was tomorrow night. Still, all day spent waiting, and she hadn’t even been able to say goodbye before he’d….
Footsteps stomped near his painting. What? He was here and he’d just….
“Shane?” she called.
No answer. Well, that was strange. If she could hear his footsteps, he was still around. Well, why did he leave then? Why wasn’t he answering her?
He’d disappeared right after she’d asked how he’d died. Maybe that had something to do with it.
“I’m sorry if I offended you…somehow.” Were they not to talk about how he died? It was crucial to researching his past—and her great, great grandfather’s hand in it. It didn’t seem like anyone else knew what had happened to the smug but sexy Shane Blythe. “Look, it’s okay if you died in some embarrassing way. It’s not a big deal.”
Could that be it? Maybe he was run over by a cow or tripped and fell off a cliff. It’s not like she would ever laugh no matter how it happened. It wasn’t funny.
The stomping near the painting continued.
Ana clamped her teeth tight. What an ass. What an arrogant….gah! He was being childish. Men were such idiots—even dead ones it appeared. He could be quiet if he wanted to, but, no, he was stomping around to let her know he was still around and ignoring the hell out of her.
She took a deep breath. Cool it, Ana. Maybe he’d died in a really embarrassing way. Or maybe it was so gruesome he didn’t like to even think on it. Maybe it was wood-chipper levels of vile, and he didn’t know how to tell her.
Getting to her feet, Ana set the book aside, and walked down the shelves to where the footsteps were coming from. When she arrived at the painting, there was no Shane, but the footsteps were on the move…back toward the book. She ran back that way. Oh no, he didn’t. He wasn’t going to pitch a fit and ignore her and then steal the book that he’d scoffed at. She glimpsed him for a second before he disappeared again near the book.
Snatching up the book, she announced, “No, if you want this book, you’ll have to talk to me.”
The stomping was back at the painting. She narrowed her eyes. It had to take energy to make that much noise. He’d said he had limited energy. He was using up that energy to make a point that he was treating her like a ghost. She’d waited all day for this guy to act like a complete ass because she’d tripped across some unwritten rule of the dead. Then, rather than explain himself, he was wasting his energy in a tantrum.
All day. She’d waited all day…for this. For a century old ghost to act like a four year old who’d been denied dessert.
She growled. Not only that, she’d thrown herself at him when he’d first arrived and kissed him. Obviously, her feelings weren’t entirely reciprocated.
As calmly as she could, and despite her shaking hands, Analise pulled her purse onto her shoulder and walked toward the door, carrying the book. “Fine.” It was entirely fine. Completely fine. What-the-hell-ever. “When you’re done being a child, come find me. In the meantime, have a nice death.”
Copyright © 2013 by Wendy Sparrow
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