EXCERPT: “When are you going to tell her?” In the process of checking his watch, Damon paused. His fingers rapped once on the rough grain of the picnic table in irritation before curling into a loose fist next to his elbow. Loose wisps of autumn wind swept through the clearing, pushing locks of dark hair into his eyes that were impatiently swept back. “Whenever I feel like it,” he muttered into the phone. “She’s not ready.” The she in question stood several yards away, surrounded by a field of knee-high grass and wild flowers. The late afternoon sun glittered through her unbound hair, turning the sleek strands a deep, rich gold that lifted around her thin shoulders with every crisp breeze. She hadn’t moved in the last ten minutes. Every so often, Damon could just hear the quiet snap of camera shutters and the whir of gears as the device… Read more »
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