Gossamer

Cover Copy

Shouldn’t all faerytales end with happily-ever-after?

Kyla Ashbury is nearing her eighteenth birthday when a mysterious boy appears at school. Her instant attraction to him inexplicably awakens something inside her and she discovers her true identity.

Now, armed with the knowledge of her past, she is forced to leave behind the life she has always known for a new one filled with temptation, faery charm and magic, and a future she isn’t prepared for.

Kyla is left with a difficult decision...but no matter which path she chooses, someone will get hurt.

Teaser

“What’s going on?” I heard the panic in my own voice. “I need some answers. Now!” My parents still weren’t home, and I prayed they wouldn’t get home before I had a chance to get some information. The last thing I needed was for them to come home and find two boys in my room.

Conor looked over at Grant, probably expecting him to do the talking. He studied me for a minute. “I don’t know where to begin. It’s sort of complicated and parts of it you may not want to hear.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just tell me.” I pleaded with Grant, then steeled myself.

He seemed to search for the right words. “Okay,” he paused. “You’re a faery.”

My shoulders slumped, and my jaw went slack. “Are you freaking kidding me? Now is
so
not the time to joke around. Please, Grant, tell me what’s going on.”

“Well, you’re actually only half-faery, and I am being serious.”

Gossamer

By Renita Pizzitola

Gossamer

978161504021

Copyright © 2012, Renita Pizzitola

Edited by Abby Rose

Book design by Lyrical Press, Inc.

Cover Art by Renee Rocco

First Lyrical Press, Inc. electronic publication: October, 2012

Lyrical Press, Incorporated

eBooks are not transferable. All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

PUBLISHER'S NOTE:

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

Published in the United States of America by Lyrical Press, Incorporated

Dedication

For my dad, Richard Walker. Thank you for encouraging me to find my happily-ever-after.

Acknowledgments

I am grateful to have such wonderful friends and family who have stood by me every step of the way. I'd like to thank Gossamer's very first fan, my mom, for her encouragement to see this through. My sister, Daphne, who has been listening to me make up stories for years–I learned from the best. Nikky, Katie, Allison and Crystal–thanks for keeping me young enough to write YA. It's hard to believe we are all grown up, but when we get together it never feels like it. My husband for putting up with my often under-appreciated sense of humor. My wonderful kids, Emily and Corbin, for always being patient while I finished “just one more” page. Reagan and Jessica–my amazing critique partners–thank you for your help and support.

I would also like to thank everyone at Lyrical Press who helped make this dream a reality. Especially my extremely patient editor, Abby Rose. You have helped shape Gossamer into what it is today–one comma at a time–and I cannot thank you enough.

Prologue

Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand,

For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.

W.B. Yeats,
The Stolen Child

I walked among the trees, careful not to trip over the stubborn oak roots that refused to stay hidden underground. My hands trailed against the bark as I passed each tree, the rough texture gratifying beneath my fingertips. Although the forest was dim, occasionally a tiny bit of sunlight would peek through the canopy. A beam would shine before me, and I could see the dancing of tiny particles, their sparkling reminding me of pixie dust.

I slowly inhaled letting the earthy scent fill my lungs. My body hummed to life with the woodlands. Somewhere in my subconscious, I knew this was a dream. After all, I had been having it for as long as I could remember, but the dreams always seemed so tangible. I was in no hurry to get where I was going, not that I actually knew where I was going, but like always, the pull was there, tugging me toward something. The fear of the unknown should have scared me, except I didn’t care where I eventually ended up, because honestly, it felt like it was pulling me
home
.

Chapter 1

I knew there was something different about him from the moment I first saw him. His crystal blue eyes drew me in with such force, such velocity that for a second nothing existed in the world but the two of us. As his long, graceful strides brought him closer to me, the air began to tingle. Somewhere, in the distance, I heard my name called. I didn’t want to take my eyes away from him. I
couldn’t
take my eyes away from him.

Again, someone called. My treacherous gaze flicked in the direction of the sound, and then as if someone flipped a switch, the sensation vanished. The moment ended, life resumed as normal and the electricity surrounding me disappeared. Just like that I craved more and when I sought him out to fill my addiction, he was gone.

“Kylie? You okay?” Lexie’s large brown eyes looked at me with concern. “Do you feel okay? Your face is flushed.”

I took a deep breath, willing myself to snap out of it. “I’m fine. I felt a little dizzy for a minute there. I skipped breakfast and it probably just caught up with me.” I attempted a convincing smile.

She studied me a second longer and conceded. “Walk me to class. I’m trying to avoid you-know-who.” She rolled her eyes and looped her arm through mine, dragging me alongside her.

“You and Dylan still not speaking, I suppose?” Dylan was Lexie’s on-again, off-again boyfriend. Currently they were off, but by tomorrow it would not surprise me if they were blissfully happy again. Personally, I found it insane. When I fell in love, I wanted the real thing, not just some flighty romance.

The halls of Brentwood Preparatory School were already clearing as we made our way to third period English Literature. There were a few bangs as lockers were hurriedly shut and several squeaks on the linoleum as the remaining students hastily made their way to class. Lexie and I were in no rush. As seniors, we knew tardiness was frowned upon but we had long since stopped caring. As we reached the classroom, I reluctantly pulled my maroon blazer over my tailored white shirt and adjusted my navy blue skirt. Mr. Lewis was a stickler for the dress code.

Just as we stepped through the door, the tardy bell rang. Mr. Lewis gave us a chastising look, making the tiny part of me, which always wanted to do what was right, feel a little guilty for being late. I scurried to my seat avoiding his gaze, while Lexie, who obviously wasn’t waging any internal battles with guilt, gave him a cloying smile. I slid into my chair and flipped open my book. The second Mr. Lewis began to speak, I began to daydream.

Immediately my mind jumped back to the stranger in the hallway. I slowly envisioned every detail of him. Mentally, I let my eyes wander his body, from head to toe. I saw the slightly messy, brown hair and perfectly cut jaw line. Sensual lips tinged red and those eyes. Those amazing blue eyes, crystal clear and framed with dark lashes. His body was lean and muscular. And tall, well over six feet with broad shoulders. What would it be like to be his girlfriend, pressed intimately against him as he kissed me?

My body tingled as my mind created an excellent visual, but before I had a chance to pat myself on the back for creating such fantastic imagery, I heard my name.

“Miss Ashbury, I hate to disturb your daydreaming but please pass your book report forward.” My face reddened at the sound of Mr. Lewis’ disdainful voice, as if he could hear my private thoughts. I quickly pulled my report out, handing it to the girl sitting in front of me.

Lexie spoke up in my defense. “Hey Mr. L cut her some slack. She’s been sick.”

I gave her a small smile. Mr. Lewis eyed me, seemingly unconvinced, but dismissed it either way. “Sorry to hear that, Miss Ashbury, but while you are in my class I expect your full attention.”

“Yes sir.” I gave him a respectful nod.

Lexie turned around, mimicked our teacher’s stern facial expression, then rolled her eyes.

I stifled a laugh. As soon as I was satisfied Mr. Lewis was no longer paying me any attention, my mind went back to the mystery boy. What was he doing at Brentwood? He must be new because I would definitely remember someone like him.

He was clearly attractive enough to fit in with Brentwood’s elite student body, but he didn’t have that normal superciliousness about him most prep school kids did. Which, made him that much more fascinating to me. I might have gone to Brentwood Prep, and I might have lived in a large house in Brentwood Estates, but I was, by no means, an elitist like most of the kids there.

I thought my family lived an ironically humble lifestyle. Our house was large, my parents drove nice cars, but my dad, a community college professor, and my mom, a fund-raising coordinator for a non-profit, weren’t exactly banking like most of the other parents around here.

Brentwood was home to the children of doctors–most of which were plastic surgeons, go figure–CEOs, politicians and even a few local celebrities. Their children had been raised with a silver spoon, did not know the meaning of the word no and didn’t have a care in the world.

My parents, on the other hand, were sort of book nerds. I know to some kids it might seem super lame, but I actually really liked that about them, although sometimes it
did
drive me crazy. My dad loved talking about American History and Literature, the two subjects he taught at the local community college, and my mom tended to become overly emotional working for an organization which provided help for children requiring extensive medical treatment. All around though, my parents were good people and we got along well.

My best friend Lexie didn’t have much of a relationship with her parents. Her dad was a cardiologist and her mom was a professional shopper–yes, that’s really a job–so it left them little time to raise their daughter. Lexie was their only child and often felt invisible, but instead of becoming self destructive, like most kids here, she just brushed it off. I think in some ways, it even made her a better person. She was sweet, fun and forever had my back.

Her flimsy relationship with her parents made her seek out a constant in her life, and that constant was me. I provided the roots anchoring her unpredictable life firmly in place, and I needed her just as much as she needed me.

Often, I felt like I just couldn’t find my niche. I wasn’t a star student, but I made good grades. I didn’t date too many boys, but wasn’t completely ignored by them either. I had lots of friends, but wasn’t part of the
It
crowd. I just coasted somewhere in the middle of life. Sometimes though, I felt that if Lexie, bursting with all that vitality and spontaneity, hadn’t been a part of my life, I might have teetered just enough to fall into the
nobody
category.