Synopsis
Sara
had always been careful.
She never spoke of magic, never associated
with those suspected of handling magic, never thought of magic, and never,
ever, let anyone see her mark. After all, the last thing she wanted was to end
up missing, like her father and brother.
Then, a silver elf pushed his way into
Sara's dream, and her life became anything but ordinary.
Extra
Title: Copper Girl
Author: Jennifer Allis Provost
Series: Copper LegacyGenre: Urban FantasyPublisher: Spence CityRelease Date: June 25 2013
Book links:
Author links:
About the author
Jennifer Allis Provost is a native New
Englander who lives in a sprawling colonial along with her beautiful and
precocious twins, a dog, a parrot, two cats, and a wonderful husband who never
forgets to buy ice cream. As a child, she read anything and everything she
could get her hands on, including a set of encyclopedias, but fantasy was
always her favorite. She spends her days drinking vast amounts of coffee,
arguing with her computer, and avoiding any and all domestic behavior.
Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE, Part I
It seemed like a good idea at the time.
My office, like most modern offices,
cranked the air conditioning down to Arctic proportions during the summer
months. Consequently, we workers arrived in the morning dressed in sandals and
sleeveless tops, donned heavy sweaters upon reaching our desks, and ended up
shivering by noon. Ironically, when our workday ended we were hit by a wall of
oppressive heat the moment we stepped outside the main doors. No, this wasn’t a
flawed system in the slightest.
That day, I wasn’t having it. I had the
grand idea of spending my lunch hour outside, away from the icy wind stiffening
my fingers and chilling my neck. After I unwound myself from the afghan I kept
in my desk (and only used in the summer months), I gathered up my lunch and my
phone and headed out for an impromptu picnic in my car.
What I hadn’t considered was that the
office runs the air conditioning so cold because it was, well, hot outside.
Very hot, in fact. So hot that the cheese was melting in my sandwich and the
lettuce looked like something that had washed ashore months, maybe even years,
ago. I was parked in the shade and had taken down my car’s convertible top, but
I still couldn’t manage to get comfortable. I’d already shed my sandals and
cardigan, which left me wearing my sundress and…
Dare I?
I glanced around the parking lot of Real
Estate Evaluation Services, the ‘go-to firm for all your commercial real estate
needs’, according to the brochures. No one, human or drone, was taking a
noontime stroll, and, by virtue of my being on the far side of the lot, no cars
were near mine. Most of my coworkers didn’t even have cars, so the lot was
rarely more than half-full. What was more, from where I sat, I couldn’t even
see the office.
I dared.
I took a deep breath and channeled my inner
wild woman, then leaned the seat back and slipped off my panties. Removing that
small bit of cotton made an incredible difference, and the heat became somewhat
bearable. Enjoyable, even. Was that a breeze?
Ignoring my decrepit sandwich, I fully
reclined the seat, set the alarm on my phone, and closed my eyes. A nap. Now
that would make today bearable.
***
Suddenly,
he is there.
Here.
Kissing
me, holding me.
I
know I'm dreaming, because he's perfect. His lips are soft but insistent, his
hands gentle. I glide my fingers across his back, feeling thick cords of
muscle, before sinking my fingers into his hair. It’s superfine, like cobwebs,
and when I crack an eyelid, I learn that it’s silver. Not gray or white, but
the elegant hue of antique candlesticks and fine flatware. Cool.
I
squeeze my eyes shut again, not wanting the dream to end any sooner than it has
to. He kisses me once more, and I can’t help melting against him. His hand
travels up my leg, up past my hip… shit! No panties!
I try
twisting away, but he already knows. I feel his mouth stretch into a smile, and
he moves to nuzzle my neck. "What’s your name?" he murmurs.
"Sara,"
I reply. "Yours?"
"Micah."
By now, his hands have traveled to my waist, and he slides one around to stroke
the small of my back. "Why did you summon me, Sara?"
"I
didn’t," I protest. "I don’t know how." I would say more, but he
nibbles a trail from my neck to my shoulder, and pushes my dress to the side.
As for me, I let him.
Micah
raises his head, and I get a good look at him for the first time. His eyes are
large and dark gray, like thunderheads, his features chiseled into warm caramel
skin, and his unruly mop of silver hair seems to float around his head. He
wears an odd, buff-colored leather shirt, made all the odder in this heat, and
matching leather pants and boots. Boots?
"You
did summon me," he insists. "My Sara, you must tell me why."
"Does
it matter?" I ask. I pull him back to me, kissing him with all the passion
I’ve never felt with anyone during my waking hours. Micah kisses me back,
fingers deftly unbuttoning my dress while his other hand rubs my lower back.
I’ve never felt so free, so alive as I do in Micah’s embrace, and I have no
intention of rushing this. None at all.