Home of a mother, wife, writer

It’s Friday again! Yeah, that seems to happen every week. THIS week, I’ve written over 25,000 words, gone with the kids and my MIL to the park and a book sale(4 new books for $1) and finished the first draft of Paint Me a Picture, a novella in my Gilbert, Co series. I really liked writing Rylan and Kirsten’s story. Even if the second half of my outline was pretty much tossed out.

But, today is about bringing you the next chapter of Into the Sun, the first half of Trace & Birdie’s story. Chapter 8 is up on Wattpad now, so here is a little taste of it.

I stood across the street from the house I’d grown up in, but I saw it from new eyes now. I used to dread coming home from school, like I walked straight toward my personal torture chamber. Everything about it had felt dark.

Now, I looked and didn’t see any of that. Just a house. Only four walls and a roof. The house itself was painted a light blue, white shutters around the windows. The front porch drooped slightly. Henry had talked the last couple years about ripping it out and putting in a new one.

He never had, and he’d made that my fault somehow.

I couldn’t move forward. It was just a house and yet some of that same dread seeped in. A hand settled on my back.

“Nothing changes when you stand still,” Icarus said in my ear. “You can do this, Trace.”

The surety in his voice helped take some of the weight from my own shoulders. I couldn’t make Mom come with us, of course, but she certainly wouldn’t if I couldn’t even make myself walk up to the house. That’s all I had to do.

I stepped away from Icarus and headed for the street but glanced back over my shoulder once. He’d already faded back into the trees. Even though I didn’t see him with that quick look, he’d assured me he’d be able to see me. I kept that in mind as I reached the other side of the street and headed for the drooping porch. The first step creaked, and I swore the second would collapse under my weight. Thankfully it didn’t.

I walked across the porch. I stopped myself when I reached for the doorknob. This wasn’t my home anymore. Instead, I lifted my hand and knocked. Instantly my stomach coiled into tight knots.

What would I see when she opened the door? Would she even speak to me? Would she shut the door in my face? Beg me to stay? I hated not knowing what to expect.

Shuffling steps came from the other side of the door, and got a quick glimpse of her face through the glass when she pulled the curtain on the door aside. The door swung open. Even that quick glimpse had my heart splitting. He hadn’t gone easy on her since I’d left.

What had I done abandoning her? He could have killed her, and I couldn’t have stopped it.

She grabbed my arms and pulled me into the house. “Oh, Trace, you’re back,” she said, kissing my face. “I’m so glad you decided to come home. I’ve missed you so much.”

I made myself pull back from her. “I’m not home, Mom. I just had to see you. Talk to you.”

She pulled back, and I could see all the happiness drain out of her eyes. “Where have you been, Trace? You should have been here.”

“I’ve tried to call,” I told her,”you never picked up.”

You can find the rest of Chapter 8 over on Wattpad, or even check out the previous chapters. If you do, let me know what you think of it.

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