“I still can’t believe we went oldest to youngest.”
“Viktor was going to have a meltdown if he couldn’t get married first when everyone else already has been.”
“Your point?”
I roll my eyes toward my husband.
He rolls his toward me. Then sticks out his tongue.
“Brat,” I clip.
Drawing my hand to his lips, he murmurs, “Baby.”
With a huff, I say, “Husband.”
Lips tipping into a smile against my skin, he replies, “Wife.”
?
This concludes Morana and Kyran’s story! As well as the Bachelor Brother series! Thank you for coming along into the wonderful world of Sunset, West Virginia. If you’re interested in a new adventure, might I recommend How to Fake Date Your Grumpy Boss? It has kittens.
This was supposed to be an opportunity to get the job of my dreams…now it’s an absolute scandal. Good thing fiction has taught me how to handle those.
Read Now.
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PROLOGUE
♥ All important meetings occur in the rain, with a clap of thunder.
~~~
“To be honest,” I whisper at the box of gleaming eyes beneath me, “this is not my best moment.”
Rain pounds against my back, drenching my clothes, and the only thing protecting the three tiny kittens flopping around in the cardboard box under me is my awkward roof of a body. I’ve been hovering for five minutes in order to keep the pale orange, pure black, and little gray cats safe. My legs are starting to cramp. I don’t know what to do.
Ever since I decided to leave the dorm and check out the Augustus campus at night (abaddecision, mind you, and one that wasn’t actually even technically allowed), things have gone poorly. First, I sort of immediately got lost. This place is a town, and when you think you’ve left campus? Nope. You’re actually still here.
I swear.
It’s like a spiderweb of buildings and rolling scenery—very unlike Florida. But I did sort of expect that North Carolina wouldn’t be like Florida. The Appalachians don’t cut through the state for this place to be anything but hills on top of hills. As a wee Floridian bookworm who’d rather curl up in bed all day, my legs are basically broken.
I’m never doingoutsideagain.
To top off the fact I got myself lost and gave myself broken legs, five minutes ago I stumbled upon this box full of kittensthat couldn’t be left alone. Picking them up and wandering wasn’t a good idea. The last thing I needed was to break my arms along with my legs. But as I was contemplating solutions to this particular dilemma, the sky opened up and puked on me.
Books do not normally describe rain aspuke, but forgive me for implying that the downpour hammering into my back and dirty blond hair isn’t exactly like the teardrops of angels or whatever a civilized author might delineate it as. Civilized authors probably know better than to end up in such predicaments.
“Wanna know something funny?” I whisper to the cats, because if walking around with them while it wasn’t pouring was a bad idea, I’m basically stuck here now.
Their big eyes are barely paying attention. Their fuzzy, floppy bodies continue to tumble about without any concern for my sacrifice on their behalf. Cats hate water. I’m sparing them from so much distress. The least they can do is look at me while I slowly lose my sanity.
“When weather is used to depict the emotions of a character, it’s called ‘pathetic fallacy.’” In spite of the fact I’m soaked through and about to shiver myself sick (summer nightsherearenotsummer nights in Florida), I let the corner of my mouth hook up. “That’s right.Pathetic. The world mocks me two-fold, and all I can do is sit here and appreciate the poetic justice.”
“What are you doing?”
I leap full out of my skin when not only does a deep, masculine voice hit me in the pitch darkness all around but also when the sudden absence of rain pounding against my back sends a chill coursing completely down my spine. I squeak slightly and look up at the largest black umbrella I have ever seen attached to perhaps one of the most downrightSlenderman-esquemales I have ever witnessed.
