Denial (Goblin's Kiss Series Book One)

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Denial (Goblin's Kiss Series Book One) Page 1

by Cyndi Goodgame




  DENIAL

  Book One

  Goblin’s Kiss Series

  Cyndi Goodgame

  Also by Cyndi Goodgame

  (Fey Court Trilogy)

  Deception

  Tainted

  Betrayal

  Guardian (Companion Novel to Deception)

  (Marked Like Me Series)

  Orion

  Son of Ra

  Scorpion

  Daughter of Anat

  The Shadow Queen

  Protector (Companion Novella to Marked Like Me)

  Mary Never Had a Lamb, She Was the Lamb

  (Twisted Nursery Rhymes for the Paranormal)

  Gargoyle (Hyde Chronicles)

  (Under Cover Chronicles)

  Under Cover

  Over Darkness

  (Siphon Chronicles)

  Siphon

  Reviews of Cyndi Goodgame’s first paranormal YA series released in June of 2012.

  Reviews of Deception:

  “Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe! I choose this one. What’s not to love about a girl with three guys who aren’t hard to look at? Who will it be?” -Reading Junky

  “...I love the blend of romance and paranormal in the story. The book starts out very normal and then gets stranger and stranger until the real story begins.” –Andrea H.

  Reviews of Tainted:

  “Gah! I’m in love with this series. :) The guys are yummy and the storyline is complex. The book is intense and full of plot twists. I hope she writes fast, because I am dying to get my hands on book three.” – Andrea H.

  “...really good book. I only wish they would release the third book!” – Hilary S.

  “As far as Fey books go, these are near the top of my list.” – Scarlett J.

  ”I loved this book. A great ending to the series. I liked how the book ended although I could have seen this go another way as well. I was so excited to see if Pike, Ian, or Kin win the girl in the end. I was rooting for Pike although I knew that was not a likely. This is a great series that I will re-read many times to come! Love it!” - Amy

  © June 2013 Cyndi Goodgame

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written permission of the publisher. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Acknowledgements go to the various authors of classic fiction who wrote so eloquently that their words have become easy to quote in today’s written word.

  ISBN: 9781311137012

  [1. Supernatural-Fiction. 2. Goblins-Fiction. 3. Wilderness, Mountains. 4. Royalty-Fiction 5. Tennessee- Fiction 6. Witches-Fiction 7. Magic-Fiction]

  Cover Model: Jessica Cain

  Email Cyndi at [email protected]

  You can reach Cyndi on Twitter at www.twitter.com/scgoodgame

  You can reach Cyndi at her website/blog at http://goodgamebooks.wordpress.com

  Follow Cyndi Goodgame on www.goodreads.com where she blogs weekly and reads as much as she writes.

  Follow Cyndi on Facebook at www.facebook.com/cyndigoodgameauthor

  Whitney. Ellen. Jessica.

  Summary:

  Where there is a will, there is a way.

  Emma has a secret. A power she cannot control.

  Emma started her first day of senior year. The only new guy in school catches the eye of all, including hers. He has a single target though. Emma.

  She stopped frozen in her step the moment she saw him walking with the gaggle of cheer girls behind him. A staring contest and feelings she cannot explain twist into something unnatural. Emma breaks the semi-standoff with this stranger, but something happened in that moment. Something dangerously close to magical like the strange powers hidden inside her meant only to be seen in fairy tales.

  Ames Cahn is not good. He has a past.

  A dark past that is not natural. But is it darker than Emma can handle? On one hand he does not care, he has to have her. On the other, can he taint something so pure and good even if she could not help her heritage? But the king wants her which makes her untouchable and not to be tampered with.

  Essentially alone in this world, Emma does not know her real parents. Her birth is a mystery and this guy says he knows the answers to all her questions. Will she turn away from destiny?

  Caught between two very different worlds, Emma must make a choice that is not easy. When she faces finality of the truth, she is confronted with the fear that even Ames cannot save her from a fate worse than death.

  Table of Contents

  PART ONE 6

  EMMA 6

  AMES 14

  EMMA 20

  AMES 24

  EMMA 27

  AMES 31

  EMMA 33

  AMES 36

  EMMA 38

  AMES 44

  PART TWO 47

  EMMA 47

  AMES 52

  EMMA 58

  AMES 61

  EMMA 66

  AMES 72

  EMMA 76

  AMES 78

  EMMA 82

  AMES 84

  EMMA 87

  AMES 89

  EMMA 93

  AMES 96

  EMMA 100

  AMES 104

  EMMA 106

  AMES 110

  EMMA 113

  AMES 115

  EMMA 117

  AMES 119

  EMMA 122

  AMES 124

  EMMA 127

  AMES 130

  EMMA 134

  AMES 136

  EMMA 138

  AMES 141

  EMMA 143

  AMES 146

  EMMA 149

  AMES 150

  EMMA 153

  AMES 155

  EMMA 158

  AMES 159

  EMMA 161

  AMES 164

  EMMA 169

  AMES 173

  EMMA 176

  AMES 181

  EMMA 183

  AMES 187

  EMMA 189

  AMES 192

  EMMA 195

  AMES 197

  EMMA 198

  AMES 200

  EMMA 203

  AMES 206

  EMMA 208

  AMES 213

  EMMA 215

  AMES 220

  EMMA 223

  AMES 227

  EMMA 231

  AMES 234

  EMMA 238

  AMES 241

  EMMA 245

  AMES 253

  EMMA 255

  AMES 259

  EMMA 261

  AMES 266

  EMMA 269

  AMES 274

  EMMA 276

  AMES 279

  EMMA 282

  AMES 286

  EMMA 289

  AMES 290

  EMMA 294

  EPILOGUE 295

  AMES 295

  EMMA 295

  APPENDIX 296

  PART ONE

  EMMA

  I felt the energy spike before she started in with her nagging. Lately, everything made me frustrated and upset. I wouldn’t be able to hide my abilities forever.

  “You so cannot do this to me, Emma,” Tonya crooned into my ear holding the red chiffon scarf that was my favorite. We were late for school

  I mocked her words but gained not one response except her usual doe-eyed begging.

  “Please. You haven’t let me borrow any of your scarves, belts, or any other accessories since sophomore year. Don’t
pretend with me. Whining gets you moldy cheese and sour grapes.”

  “You are such a downer,” Tonya paused and put on the charm flashing me a reminder of my stupid “talents” that marked her skin in some funky way. Her palm always held a glow after I let her sneak a peek at the box of gold coins in my father’s desk. I’ve regretted that and the others I’ve tested it out on ever since. She had no idea they were there, but I did. “I promise I won’t ask for anything else. And it looks better on me anyway. I’m the one with red.” Tonya swiveled her hip and pointed up to the auburn highlights in her hair. “And it would never match those freaky eyes of yours.”

  I detected the heat of the heat rise through my body and hold friction in my hands. I didn’t like comments on my eyes. The rumors were I’d always worn contacts to make them this blue. They really were the color of a sapphire. When I was little, I wore a sapphire pendant my stepmother bought me for my birthday for a few weeks thinking it was amazing they matched so closely. That was when the harmless teasing began which eventually turned into name-calling. “She’s evil. She’s a witch. She’s the devil.”

  Tonya got that familiar look of fear she held when she knew it was taken too far. She took two steps backward and that was all I needed to know I looked freakier than ever.

  Pulling in the control, I opened my eyes with the hope that they were normal again. I’d heard all that before and it was easier to give in than to argue with Tonya. It wasn’t worth the fight.

  “Fine!” I gave knowing the mention of my eyes meant they were darker than the norm and no longer matched with what I was wearing anyway. She always said the same thing and I always yielded to her determination. “Let’s go before we are late.”

  I sprayed the last of the dollar hairspray to volumize the blonde highlights in my dull brown flat-ironed hair. Shoulder blade length and hard to keep decent, steam was needed for the Tennessee humidity. Yes, it’s November. No, it’s not deathly hot. Yes, it’s still a solid eighty-five degrees.

  Tonya grumbled throwing her own auburn brown highlighted hair over her shoulder and locked into it into a quick ponytail. I grabbed the one man who would never let me down—Earl Grey--and we managed out the door.

  My stepfather’s young stockbroker friend, Randor waved at us. He moved in a few years back and took to chatting often with my stepparents. He was really cute and always checking on me. We waved back and headed for the driveway.

  They weren’t really my stepparents. I was adopted. But I couldn’t make myself wall them that. It made me feel even more unwanted. Phil and Randor were always hard at work talking about money and my stepmother was always just...busy.

  We jumped into my maroon red ’89 Ford Mustang hatchback and zipped up Highway 20 to Horne Drive. Into the senior parking we went with our heads in a happy bubble of smug as a rug fog. The parking attendant looked at my windshield sticker and nodded under the downward bill of his hat. I carefully turned the wheel into the slanted number twenty-four space after the guard checked the sticker number matching beside my rearview mirror. He didn’t really check. He knew me and my car.

  No car alarm to arm, we headed into the front main doors of our senior year that would lead me into the planned life I had laid out away from here. You see, I wanted to get a better job, get an apartment, go to the local junior college, take the basics, end up at UT, and get a degree in ??? I didn’t have any idea, but I knew that’s what I was going to do. Hands down.

  Until today.

  The front left door swung open banging metal on metal as the various teachers greeted the tail end of the first day stragglers into the building. That included little ole me.

  I followed Tonya in single file as we squeezed down the tapered hallway to our first semester class, Advanced Reading 101. Together, we would take the senior year by storm starting with Shakespeare, William Faulkner, and Emile Bronte.

  We shuffled up the main stairs and around to A Hall. We wound the next corner heading up the next set of stairs that led up to the second floor right into Miss Cauldron’s class of thirteen students. We were two of them.

  Her class was always awesome. We’d study most of my favorites and a few of my hates. Yes, I hate some writers. A sort of love/hate relationship. I don’t hate their expert writing abilities, but rather their ability to make the words jump right off the page and consume me as if it were pulling me into the pages of the book I was reading. You see, one of my lifelong dreams is to have good ole Arnold Schwarzenegger invent a page turner time machine straight into my favorite page of each and every book I ever got lost in. Hence, I hate them since they can make me want to go there. I knew them all and they knew me.

  “...and let’s get started with the first novel comparison of the semester. Nick Carraway in Gatzby vs. Romeo. Can they even compare? Let’s find out.”

  Ring! The bell went off before too long and each of us gathered our things. Next up was Advanced Creative Writing 101 for seniors. Hoo-yeah!

  This day couldn’t get any better.

  Tonya headed in a different direction and I grappled with my tea cup in my mouth regarding the room number on my schedule. Once found, I was off.

  I took the steps one at a time wanting to slow down for just a few seconds and relish in the air of knowing the rundown of my day, but not ignore those who might be in need. I knew others, mainly freshmen, were full of nerves and lost beyond belief. I looked around to see if there were any wayward downcast faces to send in the right direction. I was there once. A sophomore boy named Joe sent me down the wrong trail to English 101 with Mr. Whitmore the Bore making me walk in five minutes late that fateful day to a full-of-himself boy named Rick. I didn’t know then that Rick was destined to change my life forever. He was your stereotypical jock who was arrogant and loud, an ever present rule breaker. He never changed.

  When I reached the bottom of the last step I accepted that no one needed my assistance and slid through the closing door that another someone held open for me. A word of thanks and into the main hallway I went back as if in reverse from arrival. I eased through the thinning crowd wishing I had Tonya here in my sudden loneliness, but she didn’t take this class with me. She needed another science.

  Mrs. Ryman, the nice older lady who always helped tutor students in ancient literature made her way to me.

  “Good morning, Emma.”

  “Good morning Mrs. Ryman. I do not have any students to send to you yet.”

  “I know dear. Just checking on the future leaders of our world.” She smiled and patted my shoulder. Sometimes she just seemed otherworldly.

  I said goodbye to her and journeyed on to my dreadfully, normal day with the exception of the first two classes. I didn’t want this next class to end.

  “Hi-ya Emma,” Jay beamed his own laser blue eyes my way staring a little too long at my own odd hues. It never ceased. I smiled quickly accepting what I couldn’t change. He’d been “my friend” for a long time, but he wanted more. I just didn’t like him that way.

  “Hey Jay. Where are you headed?” I sipped a bittersweet length of my tea from my lidded “coffee” cup. Why was it called that anyway if one drank something other than coffee? Even cups get stereotyped.

  Jay searched for his schedule out of friendliness. I knew he didn’t have any of my classes. I knew this because Jay took shop and agriculture and was in the FFA. His path in life differed altogether from mine, but that didn’t mean we weren’t friends. Well, talk-to-ya friends. The kind you see and greet, then never meet. We’d never spoken outside of school unless our different circle of friends happen to end up at the local hangouts.

  “Um, Biology 102. I managed to escape until now. Guess I’m the dope who should’ve have listened to the counselor when she said to take care of undergrad courses before senior year.”

  I laughed because that’s what he wanted me to do. We knuckled bumped like always and I headed off after a fast wave and said a see.ya.later. He’d have that class with Tonya. Good luck.

  Tonya was a
bit...sarcastic. Well, a lot. That’s what most people liked about her though. She didn’t take anyone’s crap.

  I bound around the corner faster now knowing my time was running low on the gap between classes. With less than two minutes till second period started, I was now going to have to run.

  I quickened my steps to a patterned clip clop even with the black soft padded boots I chose for the first day marathon across the campus. I heard giggling and a few cackles up ahead and discarded the noise as the cheerleaders. They were somewhat my friends since we been on squad together for all of two months before I called it quits. Too much demanding this and demanding that. My life was my own, not a collective group who defined me. And besides, my anger sometimes made me do things. Bad things.

  The giggling increased as I neared B Hall and the turn I had to make. A group was gathered around one person in the center of the hall and I couldn’t help but worry that some poor freshman was being harassed. So I nosed my way up in hopes of charming them away from the poor soul. They still acknowledged me, the bookwormish working girl. So I still acknowledged them, the spoiled brattiness never worked a day in their lives, former friends of the disastrous junior year phase called cheerleading.

  I eyed Christina Fowler and sauntered up to her. At the same time I checked my bangle watch that had bounced on the wrong side of my wrist. One minute and twenty four seconds to go. Great!

  “Christina, are you torturing some poor freshmen into going into the girl’s locker room again?” I remembered that fiasco that she never got blamed for.

  I parted the sea and scooted in next to her. With the giggling even louder, I rolled my oddly colored eyes as I often did to survive the drama I was surrounded with on a daily basis. I stepped right onto the hard steel-toed boot of definitely.not.a.freshmen.

 

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