by Kimbra Swain
“He is my son. He is Dylan’s son. You would kill the woman who gave birth to Dylan’s son!” she screeched in horror.
“He isn’t Dylan’s son,” I said. “Amanda Maynard.”
“Death,” Amanda said, standing in the back of the room near Nestor. She held Mark’s hand. I assumed the child was fine, but I didn’t see Troy. And I didn’t see Winnie.
“Should I vote to make it official?” I taunted her. It wasn’t very queenlike but fuck that noise.
“He is Dylan’s son!” she screamed.
“No, he isn’t, because I am pregnant,” I said. Her eyes flashed with panic, then abandoned hope. I held my hand up to snap my fingers when a portal opened up behind her. I couldn’t see anything but hands, but they dragged her back through the portal. Her screams filled the room until the portal closed.
Grace’s face darkened as she knew at that moment she fully intended to kill Stephanie Davis in front of her son. Devin was her son, but not Dylan’s.
“Let’s stop for now,” she said.
“You okay?” I asked getting up from my laptop. She sank down into the couch and groaned.
“This part is just too emotional. I can’t take any more right now,” she said. I sat next to her, and she leaned over on me. I pulled her closer and kissed her on the temple.
“Yes, but you made it through it,” I reminded her.
“It would have been easier if my bard hadn’t been captured by my evil uncle,” she replied, taking a dig at me. She was fine if she was trying to upset me.
“When do I get to tell that part of the story?” I asked.
“I guess you should, but write it in your own story, separate from this one. The things you did to survive deserve their own place in all of this,” she said.
“My place in all of this has always been with you,” I said.
“Why must you be so damn sweet?” she asked.
“I’m not,” I protested. She turned to face me with a smile on her face.
“Yes, you are,” she said.
“It’s because I love you,” I said.
“I love you, too, Levi,” she replied.
I touched her cool cheek. She leaned into my touch.
“Is this when you read Dylan’s story?” I asked.
She smiled, then laid her head on my chest. I ran my hands through the long platinum waves of her hair. Outside, I could hear the sound of a rumbling V8 engine. Winnie was home. After all this time, the Camaro still ran like a dream. Grace made sure of it.
“I remembered you telling me about the book. After I left the community center, I convinced Betty and Luther to take in Devin until I could find his real father. Their news about Winnie shocked me so badly that I retreated to the vault where Mike greeted me,” she said. “You should probably be typing this.”
“I’ll remember. Just tell me,” I said.
“Mike opened the door to the underground bunker without question. I ran down the steps to the vault, then stepped through the portal. I searched the shelves until I found the book you told me about. I pulled it off the shelf and ran my trembling hand over the cover. I had my memories back of the days prior to when Dylan and I were together, but I didn’t know the whole story. I only remembered my side of it,” she said.
“As it is for any memory, what you remember isn’t the truth. It’s just one side of the story. Sometimes you have to see both sides to find the truth. And only the truth can set you free,” I said, sounding like a scholar. At least, I thought I did. She didn’t.
“What utter nonsense,” she laughed. “I love you for your nonsense though.”
“Thanks,” I muttered.
“Oh, don’t brood. Or maybe you should. I find you irresistible when you brood,” she said.
“This is me brooding,” I smiled.
“Yeah, it looks it,” she laughed. We could hear Winnie outside talking to someone. A male voice responded to her. “Mark?”
“Sounds like it,” I said.
“Hmm. Maybe they made up,” she said.
“It will be the third time this week,” I said.
She laughed, then picked up her story. “When I opened the book to the title page, I laughed. Only you would think of such a ridiculous title.”
“What? It was appropriate,” I said. “Keep telling the story.”
“I waved my hand in front of the pedestal that was supposed to hold Taliesin’s songbook, and a recliner appeared. It was the one from your apartment, by the way,” she said.
“I wondered what happened to that thing,” I said.
“It’s in the vault,” she replied. “I sat down in the chair and read the story front to back in just a few hours. I teased you, but the title was perfect. Moonshine in a Mason Jar.”
A Message From The Author
As an independent author, I’m in charge of everything from writing the story to registering copyrights to marketing the book. One of the biggest marketing tools for an author is an honest review. If you truly enjoyed my stories, would you mind taking a few moments to review the books on Amazon? I would greatly appreciate it. Visibility increases with more reviews. As that happens, I’m able to produce more books.
Thank you so much for loving these stories. I’d love to hear from you anytime. Please message me on my Facebook page or through my email.
FACEBOOK: www.facebook.com/kimbraswainofficial
EMAIL: [email protected]
Reviews on Amazon:
Bless Your Heart
Tinsel in a Tangle
Snake in the Grass
Comin’ Up a Cloud
Fairy Tales of a Trailer Park Queen Box Set
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank the many independent authors who have influenced me or encouraged me. Not just in the Urban Fantasy genre, but from others as well. Indie authors have come up with some of the most amazing tools for a new author like me to thrive in this big business. I will be forever grateful for their help in realizing my dream.
My co-workers, friends, and family are always supplying me with the greatest stories about life that I can adapt into my books. It’s amazing when one of them starts a story off with “you can use this one in a book.” It thrills my author heart. Thank you.
My professional team are top-notch. I cannot recommend them enough. Hampton, my cover designer, makes me tear through the house just so I can see his latest file enlarged on my desktop. Carol, my editor, makes me cuss and love her at the same time. It is a magnificent feat. Erica, my formatter, gives great advice and is my go to for understanding the urge to buy a pre-made cover that I didn’t really need. You guys are the best.
Last but not least, Jeff and Maleia. They are my Dylan and Winnie. My heart and soul. I love them so much and am continuously overwhelmed by their support for my dream. But when I think about it, they have always been the only dream I needed.
From early in life Kimbra Swain was indoctrinated in the ways of geekdom. Raised on Star Wars, Tolkien, Superheroes and Voltron, she found herself immersed in a world of imagination. She started writing in high school and completed her English degree from the University of Alabama in 2003.
Her writing is influenced by a gamut of favorite authors including Jane Austen, J.R.R. Tolkien, L.M. Montgomery, Timothy Zahn, Kathy Reichs, Patricia Cornwell, Kevin Hearne and Jim Butcher.
Born and raised in Alabama, Kimbra still lives there with her husband and 5-year-old daughter. When she isn't reading or writing, she plays PC games, makes jewelry and builds cars.
You can view my publishing schedule on my website:
https://www.kimbraswain.com/tentative-publishing-schedule
Follow Kimbra on Facebook, Twitter,
Instagram, Pinterest, and GoodReads.
www.kimbraswain.com
Grace
The gear shift jabbed into my side every time he thrust into me. This was my first chance to get laid in the last six months thanks to my contract with the Sanhedrin. I wasn’t going to let a littl
e discomfort stop me from getting mine.
I’d watched Joey Blankenship for a while before I ever approached him. He was young and worked hard, but he played hard too. He was twenty-five and worked for his father’s lumber business. On the weekends, he went out with his friends, riding the powerlines. Mud riding was what they called it. I just knew there would be sex involved. I needed it badly. My frustrations were growing, but Jeremiah warned me not to give into my desires. When he called yesterday to give me the go-ahead, I cussed him for making me ask permission to fuck, then immediately stalked the town looking for Joey.
Joey was about 6-foot-tall with sandy blonde hair. He could have been Sheriff Riggs’ brother, or perhaps a distant cousin. I didn’t know what Riggs had between his legs, but when I found Joey at the Food Mart buying beer, I intended to find out what exactly he had.
I wasn’t disappointed. However, his grunting increased and I knew he was close to a climax.
“Don’t you dare come without me,” I warned him.
He laughed as he thrust into me, “Then you better catch up.”
“I mean it, Joey!” I said, trying to wiggle out from under him. He took it as I was playing with him. He wrestled me, laughing, but continued his business. I couldn’t relax enough to get to that point. With one last shove, he groaned deep in his chest, and I felt it rattle around in his body. He throbbed inside of me. I was left wanting.
I shoved him off of me. “Get off me,” I screamed. Scrambling from under him, I tried to cover my exposed skin.
“Grace, wait! Come on. I’ll finish you,” he offered.
I pushed open the driver’s side door while pulling my skirt down. The panties I’d had on were ripped. He yelled behind me as my boots hit the mud around the truck where we had stopped to take a break. I turned to look back at him as he removed his used condom, then pulled up his pants.
“Leave me alone,” I shouted at him. I trudged through the mud, but I wasn’t fast enough. My boots mired up in the mud, and with my next step, the boot stayed stuck. I went barreling forward landing in the muck on my side. “Fucking hell!”
“Wait! Let me help you,” Joey called out to me.
“I said, leave me alone!” I screamed. “You inconsiderate bastard! Don’t you ever call me again!”
“Grace, I’m not done. We can go again,” he said, rubbing his crotch to reawaken the beast. He had a good one. He just had no manners.
“I’m covered in mud!” I yelled back as he approached.
“So? It might be fun,” he laughed.
“Fuck off!” I said, pushing myself up out of the mud. I removed my other boot, leaving it in the mud. Barefoot and covered in filth, I traipsed to the highway which led back into town. If I got lucky, maybe a farmer would let me ride in the back of his truck. Probably not though, considering it was already dark. Otherwise, it was a couple of miles, so I started to walk. I cursed Jeremiah, the Sanhedrin, and Joey Blankenship. When I got to my trailer, I was going to pack my bags and go.
I hadn’t gone a mile when I started cussing Dylan Riggs, too. In the distance, I could see his cruiser sitting on the side of the road with the interior lamp on. He could see me approaching, caked in mud. As if my night could get any better, there sat the man I hated the most on the face of the earth. The man I was forced to work with in town. The man who had chosen the other royal fairy.
This town and this arrangement had made a fool of me. My one chance to get laid, and the guy botched it. I suppose I could have stayed, but I was pissed. I hated this town. I hated its sheriff, but most of all, I hated myself for agreeing to stay.
Ignoring him, I walked down the road facing the town. Even when he called out my name, I didn’t acknowledge him. I kept walking. When I heard him get out of his cruiser, I spun around.
“You go to hell, Dylan Riggs. Leave me the fuck alone,” I shouted. He held his hands up in surrender.
Dylan
“Are you okay?” I asked. Her eyes flared bright blue in the darkness. I held my hands up in surrender. The last thing I wanted to do was piss her off. She probably didn’t know it, but she was one of the few things in this world that could destroy me.
“I’m fine. Just leave me alone,” she said, as she turned back toward town.
When I saw her approaching in the darkness, while I sat in my cruiser, I couldn’t believe my eyes. She was covered in mud and barefoot. I had followed her and Joey Blankenship out to the powerlines to make sure that they weren’t up to anything dangerous. When I saw Joey’s truck spinning around in the mud, I figured they were just having fun. Something inside of me hated her having fun with someone else, but our relationship had been tense, even after the teacup. More than anything, I wanted us to be friends.
Jeremiah warned me that the Sanhedrin had given her permission to have sex which seemed ridiculous to me. I didn’t understand why they regulated her like that. They certainly didn’t regulate Stephanie. Of course, she and I had come to an agreement, and things were much better between us. In fact, I had high hopes again for our future. She stopped staying in Tuscaloosa as much as with her law friends, and Nestor told me that she hadn’t been in Hot Tin without me in several weeks. We were finally settling into the relationship I’d always hoped we would have.
But every time I saw Grace, something inside of me stirred that I couldn’t explain. I dismissed it as my overactive sex drive.
“Are you hurt?” I asked.
“No,” she said flatly.
“Let me take you back to town,” I said.
“No,” she quickly replied.
I let her go. She disappeared over the hill. I sat back down in my cruiser as Joey Blankenship’s truck came barreling over the hill at a high speed. I knew he was over the limit. I flicked on my lights as he flew past me. Quickly, I cranked up the car to follow him. He didn’t stop until he got to Grace. He stood in front of her with the lights of the truck shining on them as I approached. He was trying to reason with her, and she was being just as stubborn as she had been with me. I decided what was stirring inside of me was probably hatred for how difficult a person she was. Completely alluring and beautiful, but black on the inside with disdain and hatred for the world.
“What’s going on here?” I asked, walking up to the arguing couple.
“Hey, Sheriff Riggs. Grace and I are just having a discussion,” Joey said.
She stood with her arms folded looking away from him.
“Yes, well, you were over the speed limit back there,” I warned him.
“Yeah, I know, but I needed to catch up with her. She’s mad, and I’m trying to make it right,” Joey said.
“Good luck with that,” I muttered. Her eyes flashed to mine, but they were chocolate brown this time. The anger wasn’t subdued though.
“Dylan Riggs, leave me alone. Joey Blankenship, leave me alone. What is it with you men? Go away!”
“Come on, Grace. Get in the truck. I’ll take you home. I’ve got your boots,” he said.
“I’ll walk, thank you. You can keep the boots,” she said, shoving past him to continue her pace back to town.
“What the hell did you do to her?” I asked him. “Did you hurt her?”
“What? No. I’d never hurt a woman,” Joey said. I saw the innocence in his eyes.
“If you laid a hand on her, I’m taking you in,” I said to him. He cowered.
Grace stopped in her tracks. “He didn’t hurt me,” she said.
We both looked at her confused. “What?” I said.
“He didn’t hurt me, Dylan. Leave him alone. Don’t try to go all white knight and save the damsel in distress. I assure you I am no damsel,” she said, then turned back toward town.
“The distressed part, though,” I said.
“Forget it,” she called back over her shoulder.
“Seriously, what did you do?” I asked Joey.
He shook his head. “A gentleman doesn’t talk,” he said.
So, they were having sex. “Alright. Go on ho
me. I’ll make sure she gets back to town even if I have to follow her,” I said.
“It’s my responsibility,” he said. I had to give him credit. It takes a strong man to deal with a spitfire like Grace.
“I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want anything to do with you,” I said.
“Maybe not, but I’d like more to do with her,” he smiled. “I’ll just call her tomorrow.”
“Good move. Slow down in that truck, Mr. Blankenship,” I warned.
“Yes, sir,” Joey said, climbing into his truck. He turned around in the road heading toward his family’s farm a few miles south.
I got back in my car and followed Grace slowly. Curiosity got the best of me. I wanted to make sure she got home okay, but I also wondered what happened that pissed her off so badly. I could hear her cussing me and Joey as she walked. My windows were rolled down, and the cool night felt good. Her pace slowed. She looked over her shoulder at me, then quickly away. It was long enough to see the tracks of tears through the mud on her face. That something inside of me stirred. It wasn’t hatred.
Bounding out of the car, I crossed in front of her. She turned her face away from me. If that man hurt her, I would kill him. No, I couldn’t do that because I was the sheriff. However, he would go to jail. “Grace, are you hurt?”
“No,” she muttered with a sniff.
I’d never seen her cry before. Grace could be meaner than a sack of wild cats, but she had a confidence and fire about her that I admired. I’d never seen her broken. Before I realized it, I was reaching for her to comfort her. My arms betrayed me wanting to hold her close to me. To wipe her tears away.
She stepped back quickly, “What are you doing?” She wiped her cheeks smudging the mud with the tears.
“Something is wrong. Let me help,” I said. “If he’s hurt you, Grace, I’ll go arrest him right now.”