Wonder Never (The Fairytale Diaries #2) (17 page)

Enjoy the first chapter from Apocalypse Witch: The Encyclopedia of Witches, Book One (Coming 2016):

The sky gave birth to an ominous wind in the still dark, pre-dawn hours. If anybody had been about to hear the eerie whistle or feel the brittle breeze, he or she would've been filled with a sense of dread.

However, in the dire depths of the Sahara Desert, nary a sentient being existed.

As the strange cool of the dark desert was rapidly devoured by the onslaught of the blistering sun, the wind gradually grew in force with nobody to give it a second thought. By noon, the wind raged, blowing the one hundred twenty degree, sweltering air wildly amidst the swirling towers of sand. The wind thundered like the promise of a million marching feet. With the absence of absolutely anything to stand in its way, to block it, to prevent its wrath, by three p.m. the wind grew to the most powerful force on Earth. The sky darkened and festering clouds blew through the heavens. Thunder crashed violently, followed by electric stripes across the sky. The sand flew in a thousand cyclones doing a mad dance across the flat land. Torrents of rain washed the desert.

Had anybody been there to see it, they'd have witnessed a sheer marvel of nature.

And been killed by the intensity.

At the height of the storm, the decibel of the thunder and wind would've been deafening. The sand clouds towered as high as four hundred feet. The earth came ferociously alive and ate up the sky. The storm went on that way for hours and then, just like that, it was done.

The wind stopped as though it had been a machine that simply shut off. The clouds raced away leaving behind a flawless sun and vast expanse of pale blue sky. The towers of sand dropped unceremoniously back to their rightful place on the desert floor. And once the desert returned to its natural state of quiet, scorching serenity, another oddity stood in place of the storm.

One nude man and one nude woman stood shoulder to shoulder, seemingly unaffected by the blazing sand against the soles of their feet. Then, they stood where only seconds before, no human being could possibly have survived.

The man seemed impossibly tall, nearing seven feet in height. Every muscle rippling the length of his body was chiseled as though cut perfectly from marble. Luscious brown locks of curly hair cascaded silkily down his back. He had a goatee and tidy mustache, perfectly complimenting his sharp blue eyes.

The woman was also tall, with shapely curves and full bosom. Her arms and legs suggested a life of exercise and strength building, yet her body also possessed ever possible alluring curve. Her glittering blue eyes set within glimmering tan skin matched his; so similar she could've been his sister. She had flaxen hair like spun gold reaching for the shadowy crevice beneath the arch of her spine.

The man slowly turned his gaze down to her, and she turned her eyes up to him. In a strange harmonious motion, they both reached to the other and delicately caressed a cheek. A staggering depth of feeling passed between them for only a fleeting second.

And then they both returned their attention forward and purposefully began to walk away from the spot where they'd materialized out of thin air in the midst of the worst storm on earth.

***

Morna McCallister's eyes fluttered open and darted around. Darkness shrouded her room, heavy black drapes blocking all sunlight from sneaking in the tall windows. She yawned and stretched, reaching for her night stand where she fumbled for her phone.

"Amazing," she muttered as she checked the screen and found no missed calls or texts. She'd been home from work for six hours and they hadn't called. It was her day off, but as the head of a New York City ER, it was unusual to ever get a full day without being called in.

Morna sleepily dragged out of bed. She'd worked until eight a.m. but was up at two, not wanting to waste her day. Morna wasn't required to work night shift, but she thrived on the night. For one thing, sunshine wreaked absolute havoc with her ultra-pale, freckled skin. Morna was as Irish as they came with her long, curly, fiery red hair and sparkling emerald eyes. Sun cooked her like a lobster. Additionally, Morna loved the night because it was her time to come alive. Morna vibrated energy and charisma in those hours after dark.

She stretched again, this time in front of the full length mirror. Her ghostly pale skin seemed to glow in the dim light pouring from the bathroom doorway. She could count each rib and frowned at her skinny form. Not thin; skinny. Big difference. Morna sighed deeply. Despite every attempt to put on some weight, maybe develop a rack for once in her life, she simply couldn't. She had
that
metabolism. She was
that
woman. The one well into her thirties who could eat anything and everything and never gain an ounce.

And, whenever somebody told her how lucky she was, she felt like punching them in the throat.

Morna passed into the bathroom to grab a quick shower. She had plans to meet her sister Kristi, and Kristi's husband Doug, for dinner downtown and wanted to look nice. Though Kristi was ten years younger than Morna, she'd been happily settled in wedded bliss for more than five years already, while Morna still had nobody. So, Morna liked to look her best when visiting her sister and brother-in-law. She liked to give the impression she was living the high life, knowing many lovers, none of whom deserved her hand in marriage.

Morna sculpted her hair into a sophisticated up do. It was the one thing Morna had going for her. Where most red heads had frizzy, unruly locks, Morna's hair fell in perfect voluminous curls which she easily managed into dozens of intriguing styles.

After her hair looked gorgeous and her smoky eye makeup and blood red lipstick was painstakingly applied, she returned to her boudoir to dress. She slid expensive silk stockings up her slender, freckled thighs. She stepped into a mid-calf length teal skirt, and pulled a low cut, cream colored sweater over her boney shoulders, careful not to muss her hair style. Morna skipped undergarments of any kind, despite the coolness of mid-March New York City. Something about Kristi's husband made Morna feel indiscreet. She imagined Kristi excusing herself at the restaurant to use the lady's room, and taking the opportunity to inform Doug that there was only a thin layer of fabric between him and the Promised Land. Morna's pulse quickened thinking of Kristi's husband, but she knew she would never act on any of her unsavory fantasies.

Soon Morna found herself in a cab heading downtown. She stepped out in front of 76th Street Bistro. Pulling her coat tightly around her, Morna raced for the door, eager to escape the whirling wind. She walked into the cozy bistro full of warm lighting and a pleasant din of people. The hostess led her to a table in the back where Kristi and Doug were already waiting.

Kristi sat nestled in Doug's arm in a red vinyl booth. She looked beautiful, as always. Kristi looked the polar opposite of Morna. She took after their father, where Morna favored their mother. Kristi was petite and voluptuous with golden skin and long ash blonde hair. Her blue eyes sparkled as she gazed up at Doug lovingly. He smiled, looking down into her eyes and imparting something that was clearly funny to her. Morna's heart rate picked up once more as she laid eyes on her brother-in-law. Doug was the picture perfect example of tall, dark, and handsome with his deeply tanned muscular build, his curly black hair, and his deep black eyes. The lovers were oblivious of Morna until she was sliding into the booth across from them.

"Hey, sis," Kristi greeted warmly. Morna smiled curtly, and the sisters leaned across the table to exchange a cheek kiss.

The trio spoke cordially and Morna feigned interest in her sister's trivial chatter. She grew so bored she considered faking a page from the hospital to bail on the couple. Everything about Kristi's mundane existence annoyed Morna. Then Kristi said something that caught her attention.

"So, Morna… We have a little announcement to make."

Morna's head shot up and she glanced back and forth between Kristi and Doug. "Oh yeah? What's that?"

Kristi took Doug's hand and smiled happily. "We've decided to finally start trying to have a baby," she revealed, beaming radiantly.

Morna exhaled a sigh.
At least she's not already pregnant,
Morna thought grudgingly. Since Kristi and Doug wed, Morna had dreaded the time they would tell her they were expecting a child. She was surprised so much time had already passed and they hadn't conceived. She'd begun to think maybe they never would, maybe they didn't want a child, or maybe Kristi had troubles she didn't reveal to Morna. But alas, finally the time was here.

There would be a little brat in the picture, and the fate of their marriage would be sealed. They would never part.

Morna tried to smile and look happy for them, but even she knew her jealousy had to be apparent on her thin face. She began to feel lightheaded. She thought she was really having a doozy of a fit of jealousy as nausea rose in the back of her throat and beads of perspiration appeared on her forehead. But then she realized something more was wrong. Her stomach roiled.

"I'm sorry, excuse me," Morna muttered, stumbling out of the booth and through the busy dining room to find the lady's room.

She stepped inside the empty public restroom. She was grateful for the silence, though some of the noise from the dining room could still be heard. The room was poshly decorated in cool silvers and greys, very relaxing. Except Morna's anxiety continued to escalate. She stood before the mirrors, leaning heavily on the granite sink. She stared at her already pale face, and watched the color drain from her cheeks. Her head spun wildly. She bent to turn on the sink and splash cold water into her face just as Kristi entered the restroom before her.

Kristi rushed to her sister, placing her hands lovingly on Morna's shoulders. When Morna moved her hands out of her own face, she could see Kristi's blue eyes watching her in the mirror, wrought with concern. "Morna, what is it dear, what's the matter?"

Morna could not speak. She could scarcely concentrate.

"Morna?" Kristi questioned urgently. "Are you OK?" Kristi's tinkling voice sounded as though it drifted to Morna from down a long tunnel.

And then Morna heard it. Heard the voice in her mind. She closed her eyes, trying to push out the horrendous pounding headache that assaulted her, and she desperately listened.

After a few moments, Morna straightened and spun to face her sister. She took Kristi firmly by the shoulders.

"Listen to me," Morna demanded. "Get Doug and go home right now. Pack one bag. Of absolute necessities for the two of you."

"Wh—what? Morna!" Kristi exclaimed.

Morna shook her head once, a firm gesture. "Kristi, don't argue. Do you hear me? You
must
do as I say, and do it now. Go home. Pack a bag. I'll be back for you soon!" Morna declared.

With that, she turned and ran from the women's restroom, sprinting full speed out of the restaurant.

Amanda Gatton
is an Ohio author of young adult suspenseful fiction. She spends her time with husband Adam (the guitar player), son Jacob (the inquisitive), daughter Carmen (the jokester), and Sophie (the moody cat.) In addition to writing, Amanda loves art, singing, bicycle riding, and sunshine.

Gatton also writes adult fiction under the pen name
M Jet.

About the Artwork:

All the artwork for this book was created by the author, Amanda Gatton. Gatton is a mixed media artist and graphic designer. Coloring pages of some of the artworks accompanying each section can be printed from Amanda's website. "The Fairytale Diaries Art Journal" is also available on Amazon.
The digital coloring book can also be obtained free of charge by
subscribing to Gatton's newsletter
.
In addition, you can find art prints of Amanda Gatton's for sale on
Art Pal
and
Deviantart
.

For More of Amanda Gatton's colorful and fanciful arts follow here:

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