Book Excerpt: From Chapter Two, Portia, & Vance.
I was almost to the exit when someone rounded the corner and we collided. I dropped my book bag, scattering the contents everywhere, and I scrambled about in a rush, trying to gather up my things.
“Why don’t you watch where you’re going?” I said, mostly under my breath, without looking up, feeling completely irritated.
“Hey now. You ran into me,” a soft, sultry, male voice returned, and I froze, slowly looking over at the feet in front of me.
My gaze went up over the black laced-up boots covered by tattered Levis, and past the black belt with the silver buckle. I moved to the ever-present tightly stretched t-shirt and onto the leather jacket slung casually over the shoulder, across the pulsating veins in the neck. I paused at the soft wide-set lips, before looking straight into the piercing blue-eyed stare of Vance Mangum.
I swallowed hard, and my entire vocabulary was suddenly reduced to only one word.
“Sorry.” It came out like a whisper, and I wondered if he could even hear it.
Vance slowly squatted down to my eye level. He had a slight smirk on his lips.
“Where were you going in such a hurry?” he asked, picking up one of my books, handing it to me.
I threw a glance out the glass door just in time to see the last of the buses leave the lot.
“I was trying to catch the bus,” I explained feeling more than a bit dumb. “I forgot my friend, Shelly, had to leave early today.”
“Ah,” was all he said, and I was surprised when he continued to help me pick up my things.
He handed me my last book and stood up, reaching a hand down to me.
I was shocked by the gesture, but I took his hand, feeling sparks shoot up my arm at the contact when he pulled me up.
“I can give you a ride,” he offered, letting go of my hand, and I felt a little sad at the loss of it.
I couldn’t speak. Vance Mangum had just offered me a ride home. What should I say? I must have stood there looking bewildered because he spoke again.
“Of course, if you’re afraid of motorcycles…” He let the sentence trail off almost like he was accusing me of being scared.
Lacey Weatherford, Author
Of Witches and Warlocks
Of Witches and Warlocks
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