Teaser Tuesday!
BIG teaser. This is actually from the sequel to The Shadow Mile, but it doesn't give anything away from the first book. I just like it :-) This will probably be the only teaser I do from the sequel, for obvious spoilery reasons.
*
“Let go, Arlo!”
“Come on, Dara, hand it over.”
“Take your hands off it.”
“It’s a door fee. Give it-”
“I said, let-” There was a loud clang as Dara released her hold on the festive platter, sending Arlo, a dozen perfectly frosted cookies, and the tray backwards onto the floor. Nell laughed from the bed as Arlo sat up, a Christmas cookie stuck in his hair, and Dara smiled brightly, stepping over him. Arlo grunted, collecting the platter and shuffling the cookies back onto it before letting it fall on his desk with a metallic thud. He slumped back onto the bed, where Nell freed the last cookie from his hair and examined it carefully.
“What are they, Dara?” she asked skeptically, sniffing the bright red icing. Dara shrugged, walking to the desk. She lifted a cookie from the tray.
“Don’t know. Mom made them.”
“I wonder if they’re any good.”
“Of course they’re good,” piped Arlo. “They’re cookies.”
Nell did not look convinced. “They’re a bit…” she paused, breaking the cookie in two, “…unnatural, don’t you think?” Beneath the frosting, the cookie glowed a playdoh green. It did not paint an entirely appetizing picture.
“Nonsense,” said Arlo, snatching up one of the two halves from Nell’s hand and popping it into his mouth. Nell’s eyebrows rose gently as she watched Arlo chew, pause, frown, and then begin to turn a shade remarkably similar to the inside of the cookie. After several moments he swallowed, sagging back in exasperation and letting out a loud, “UGHHH!”
Nell chuckled, patting his shoulder. “I told you.” She turned her focus to the other half, holding it up between thumb and forefinger as if it were a specimen from Biology. Best not to get too close…handle with care, read the mental labels she applied. Dara pouted, turning over the cookie in her hands.
“Oh Arlo, it can’t be that bad. No need to make such a show.”
“Then you try it,” choked Arlo, still grimacing. Nell’s interest turned to Dara and the unnatural cookie, eager to see if she would really do it. She did. Dara Parker puffed and bit through the red frosting, her eyes leveled defiantly on Arlo. Arlo returned the look, this time with the same curious anticipation Nell had given him moments before. Nell did not find Dara’s reaction particularly surprising. She chewed, with obvious effort trying to hide her disgust. Nell gave her a mild look of disapproval. Arlo snorted. Dara swallowed.
“Ugh,” she echoed Arlo. “That’s vile.” Nell shook her head and smiled, gray eyes dancing between her friends. Dara grimaced and held the platter to Nell.
“Oh no,” laughed Nell. “I’m not touching them. No offense Dara, but both of your reactions are reason enough to avoid those…things.” Nell let her half of the cookie fall back to the tray. Dara sighed, setting the platter back against the desk.
“I’m sure mom meant well,” she said. This time Nell snorted.
“She probably wanted to poison Arlo and me for being bad influences.”
“It’ll take more than foul cookies to kill me,” said Arlo, whose face was returning to a more natural shade. “But I do think I’ll go wash my mouth out.” He pushed himself from the bed, taking extra care to stay as far from the festive tray as possible. He disappeared into the hall. Dara turned to Nell.
“That’s not a bad idea,” she said, swallowing. “I’m going to run down to the kitchen for some water.” Dara lifted the tray. “And dispose of these. Want anything?”
“I feel fine,” smiled Nell.
And with that, Dara disappeared into the hall.
Nell leaned back on the bed, tucking her hands behind her head. The ceiling stars were barely visible in the light of the room, only a thin edge hinting at outlines. The stars seemed like a secret when the lights were on, something you only noticed if you were looking for them. The room was quiet. The house was quiet, aside from the sound of running water in the bathroom, a trash bin thudding downstairs. Down the street, Arlo’s parents were clinking glasses at the Whittier Winter Gala, alongside Dara’s mother and father. The party was held in one of the oldest houses in the town, the Dogwood Manor. Even her father was attending.
Beyond the window, an easy snow drifted down. It looked like something out of a snow globe, perfect white flakes drifting past the window in front of a black backdrop through which Nell could barely make out a line of trees. It was so calm, thought Nell, watching the snow and twirling her silver ring gently on her finger. It was so quiet. In fact, Nell realized that several minutes had slid silently by, and that she was still alone. She sat up.
*
“Let go, Arlo!”
“Come on, Dara, hand it over.”
“Take your hands off it.”
“It’s a door fee. Give it-”
“I said, let-” There was a loud clang as Dara released her hold on the festive platter, sending Arlo, a dozen perfectly frosted cookies, and the tray backwards onto the floor. Nell laughed from the bed as Arlo sat up, a Christmas cookie stuck in his hair, and Dara smiled brightly, stepping over him. Arlo grunted, collecting the platter and shuffling the cookies back onto it before letting it fall on his desk with a metallic thud. He slumped back onto the bed, where Nell freed the last cookie from his hair and examined it carefully.
“What are they, Dara?” she asked skeptically, sniffing the bright red icing. Dara shrugged, walking to the desk. She lifted a cookie from the tray.
“Don’t know. Mom made them.”
“I wonder if they’re any good.”
“Of course they’re good,” piped Arlo. “They’re cookies.”
Nell did not look convinced. “They’re a bit…” she paused, breaking the cookie in two, “…unnatural, don’t you think?” Beneath the frosting, the cookie glowed a playdoh green. It did not paint an entirely appetizing picture.
“Nonsense,” said Arlo, snatching up one of the two halves from Nell’s hand and popping it into his mouth. Nell’s eyebrows rose gently as she watched Arlo chew, pause, frown, and then begin to turn a shade remarkably similar to the inside of the cookie. After several moments he swallowed, sagging back in exasperation and letting out a loud, “UGHHH!”
Nell chuckled, patting his shoulder. “I told you.” She turned her focus to the other half, holding it up between thumb and forefinger as if it were a specimen from Biology. Best not to get too close…handle with care, read the mental labels she applied. Dara pouted, turning over the cookie in her hands.
“Oh Arlo, it can’t be that bad. No need to make such a show.”
“Then you try it,” choked Arlo, still grimacing. Nell’s interest turned to Dara and the unnatural cookie, eager to see if she would really do it. She did. Dara Parker puffed and bit through the red frosting, her eyes leveled defiantly on Arlo. Arlo returned the look, this time with the same curious anticipation Nell had given him moments before. Nell did not find Dara’s reaction particularly surprising. She chewed, with obvious effort trying to hide her disgust. Nell gave her a mild look of disapproval. Arlo snorted. Dara swallowed.
“Ugh,” she echoed Arlo. “That’s vile.” Nell shook her head and smiled, gray eyes dancing between her friends. Dara grimaced and held the platter to Nell.
“Oh no,” laughed Nell. “I’m not touching them. No offense Dara, but both of your reactions are reason enough to avoid those…things.” Nell let her half of the cookie fall back to the tray. Dara sighed, setting the platter back against the desk.
“I’m sure mom meant well,” she said. This time Nell snorted.
“She probably wanted to poison Arlo and me for being bad influences.”
“It’ll take more than foul cookies to kill me,” said Arlo, whose face was returning to a more natural shade. “But I do think I’ll go wash my mouth out.” He pushed himself from the bed, taking extra care to stay as far from the festive tray as possible. He disappeared into the hall. Dara turned to Nell.
“That’s not a bad idea,” she said, swallowing. “I’m going to run down to the kitchen for some water.” Dara lifted the tray. “And dispose of these. Want anything?”
“I feel fine,” smiled Nell.
And with that, Dara disappeared into the hall.
Nell leaned back on the bed, tucking her hands behind her head. The ceiling stars were barely visible in the light of the room, only a thin edge hinting at outlines. The stars seemed like a secret when the lights were on, something you only noticed if you were looking for them. The room was quiet. The house was quiet, aside from the sound of running water in the bathroom, a trash bin thudding downstairs. Down the street, Arlo’s parents were clinking glasses at the Whittier Winter Gala, alongside Dara’s mother and father. The party was held in one of the oldest houses in the town, the Dogwood Manor. Even her father was attending.
Beyond the window, an easy snow drifted down. It looked like something out of a snow globe, perfect white flakes drifting past the window in front of a black backdrop through which Nell could barely make out a line of trees. It was so calm, thought Nell, watching the snow and twirling her silver ring gently on her finger. It was so quiet. In fact, Nell realized that several minutes had slid silently by, and that she was still alone. She sat up.