Book Excerpt
She opened her hand and closed it. Looking at her fingers, she opened her other hand and closed it. Licking her lips, she concentrated. Her fingers moved away from her palm, and a centimeter tall flame stood against her skin. The fire warmed her and threatened to burn, so she quickly clenched her fist again.Uncurling one finger at a time, she watched, and when all of them lay straight, a stream of fire curved around her ring finger, twisting down and into her palm. Her flesh heated and turned a light pink, but her eyes remained trained on the lick of fire as it circled her hand and slithered up her arm.
“Lily!”
She was jolted out of her reverie. The fire went out as her dark eyes flicked to the door of her bedroom. The wood snicked open without hesitation.
“Lily, I thought I told you to clean your room,” her mother said, anger prevalent in her tone.
“I am cleaning it.”
James stood with two hands fisted on her hips as her honeyed eyes scanned the still-dirty room before her brows raised in a silent question.
“Fine, I’ll start cleaning it now. I just don’t see what the big deal is.”
“It’s messy,” James responded, exasperated. They’d had this conversation before, one too many times.
“It’s not like anyone comes in here except me.”
“I come in here.”
“Against my will.”
Lily rolled her eyes and got off her bed. She hoped to avoid a response to her angry retort by starting in on the cleaning. A confrontation would only anger her mother, and she didn’t think it was necessary to get into a heated argument before dinner. They were having their once a week sit-down meal, and Lily did not want to be stuck in awkward silence and random questions.
“See, I’m cleaning.” Picking up a pair of dirty jeans, she tossed them into the empty laundry basket against the far wall. She then turned to her mom and smirked.
“I see that.” James turned after another second of supervision and left the room.
Lily sat against her bed again after tossing a sweater in with her jeans. Opening her fingers, the small flame burst forth. The fire started blue and turned red as it worked like a snake around her wrist and up to her elbow. She scanned the room carefully. After finding the dresser to her liking, she stood and walked over to the bureau, sitting with her back against the wall. She pressed her palm flat against the side of the wood.
Sizzling sounded. A strange smell of plastic burning filled her nostrils. She counted down: twenty, nineteen, eighteen… she curled her nails into the burned wood. Seventeen, sixteen, fifteen… her palm hurt, the flames licking up to her shoulder, barely touching the strap of her tank. Fourteen, thirteen, twelve, eleven, ten… she ripped her hand off the dresser and stared at it. Her skin looked sunburned—an oddly shaped pattern. Red streaks twirled around her arm like stripes on a candy cane.
“Lily? Are you cleaning?” Her mother’s voice carried through the closed door.
“Yeah!” she called back and stood, racing to the window to open it for ventilation and to rid the smell from the room and lit an incense stick.
Turning back, she slid her hands over her jeans and looked around the room. Her mom was right; it did need to be cleaned. She moved to her desk and picked up a plastic bag. Shoving some pieces of trash and extra papers into it, she cleared off her stereo. Gnawing on her lip, Lily put her iPod on shuffle and waited for the first song to ring through the speakers. Joan Jett’s Bad Reputation burst through the room. Lily smirked and pressed the volume button repeatedly until she could hear nothing other than the lyrics and notes.
“Much better,” she said.
Picking the clothes up off the floor, she deposited them into the laundry basket without checking to see if they were clean or dirty, which meant her floor was picked up in no time. Continuing with her desk, dresser, and nightstand tops, she threw most everything away. She paused when she found a notebook set on the corner of the desk. Opening the cover carefully, she smiled. The book was her diary from years before. She read through the first few pages but set it aside and decided she would finish cleaning first.
Twenty minutes later, she sat on her bed and opened the notebook. The cover had pink and purple sweet peas painted on the front. They had been her favorite flowers for a few years. The first page contained a “This Book Belongs to Alyssa a.k.a. Lily Stanton-Matthews” written carefully in bubbly letters with a swirl just under the last line. She had scrawled about the boy she liked in middle school and the teachers she hated. Lily smiled at the memory and reached into her nightstand for a pen. Opening the book to the first blank page, she wrote.
My mom is dating someone new, and I don’t like her. I think my mom suspected I wouldn’t. They met on a dating website of all things. I never thought she would go on one of those, but I also never thought she would date again either. Not after Addy.
The new chick is a bitch. All she does is glare at me. She hardly ever speaks to anyone other than my mom, and she never has any fun. Not that a pharmacist would have fun. She also never leaves. She’s always here. I’m pretty sure she’s even coming to our dinner tonight. I don’t like her at all. I miss Addy. Now, I’m stuck with queen-B and her attitude. My mom deserves so much better than her.
Lily paused and read over what she wrote. The words were like a real diary entry, and they satisfied her. Tapping the pen against the paper, she heard her door open again. Looking up, she watched as her mom walked into the room and turned the stereo down.
“Looks good,” she said, scrunching her nose as she sniffed the air.
“I try.”
James rolled her eyes. “Are you done, then?”
“Yeah, just have to take out the trash, and I’ll vacuum tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a plan. Might want to bring up an air freshener, too.” James stood awkwardly halfway between the stereo and the bed where Lily sat. “Want to come down and help make dinner?”
“Sure, what are we having?”
“Butternut squash and parmesan breaded chicken.”
Lily grinned. “My favorite.”
“I thought you’d like it.”
“I’ll be down in a second. I’m going to take the trash out.”
She watched as James nodded and left the room. Lily opened her book up to where she had written her previous entry. She scribbled down a quick sentence before grabbing the small grocery bag filled with trash and heading down the stairs. Leaving the book open on her bed, Lily gave it one glance before exiting the room. No one would see what she had written. She fully believed what she wrote was truth, but even if someone did see it, they probably wouldn’t think she was serious.
Darcy Greystone must die.
About The Author
Adrian J. Smith, or “AJ” as she is often called, has a generous and soft heart. She loves to rescue stray cats and dogs, as well as those who just escape. Her hoard of animals currently includes two cats, a dog and a fish, but no children as of yet. She’s passionate about LGBT et al rights, women’s rights and children’s rights.
AJ loves to read and write lesbian fiction, simply for the fact that strong women make her swoon and when two are involved her knees turn to jelly and she falls head over heels in love. AJ travels around the United States, and sometimes the world, gathering up stories for her novels. Currently, she lives in the middle of nowhere of the middle of nowhere and is rather difficult to find except on the internet, where she spends a lot of her time.
At least 10% of all AJ’s proceeds from book royalties go to Sanctuary For Kids. It’s a fantastic organization that sends money to help children around the world. Charity and children are an extremely important part of my life and supporting them in any way possible is magnificent.
About The Book
And nothing can stop chaos from ensuing.
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