Today’s excerpt comes from THE SILVER MIST.
I cut open my potato and added butter and cheese. The smell of the food hit me hard and my stomach rumbled. Ever since the Cruharach, when both of my blood lines fully emerged, I had developed a love affair with meat that eclipsed my former carnivore self. It was my Autumn Stalker nature—the hunter within had fully emerged and she was hungry for beef on bone. On the other side, I had also noticed my singing voice had gotten better, thanks to my mother’s Leannan Sidhe blood.
We set to eating but halfway into the meal, Herne’s phone rang. He glanced at it and frowned. “Excuse me, I should probably take this,” he said, moving away from the table.
I waved my fork at him, my mouth full.
Angel laughed. “Go on. We aren’t going anywhere.”
As he moved off toward the living room, I swallowed my mouthful of food. “So, let’s go get a tree tomorrow,” I said to Angel.
“All right, but I want a fake one. A big, huge, beautiful, fake tree. My allergies aren’t too bad but I don’t think they’d be all that happy with a real tree in the house. And Mr. Rumblebutt would take every chance to climb it.”
I sighed. I hadn’t ever bothered with a Yule tree since I had been on my own—twelve years now, but this year, I wanted a big beautiful spruce tree. “All right. But if we do that, then the wreath on the outside of the door is real, and we decorate a couple of the trees in the yard, too.”
“I’m good with that.” She glanced up. “We’ll need to go shopping and pick up ornaments.”
Herne returned at that point, looking perplexed. “That was odd,” he said, returning to his seat.
“Anything wrong?” I asked.