Blue Moon (44 page)

"No, I thought I'd break my father's heart for nothing."

"Sarcasm isn't very romantic,” she whispered.

"I love you, Libby. More than what I really am, I love you. More than the people I left behind."

She wrapped her arms around him.

"You're my dreams,” she said softly, simply, and they sat there, wrapped in each other, while the sun rose and banished the sapphire moon. While the castle crumbled and became a slag heap again. While the magic ley lines dried up. They sat and watched, mourning little things, relieved that they would be together after all.

He looked down at her and said, “You know, you have the prettiest brown eyes."

She smiled, and knew that everything would be normal. Like Zorovin said, that was all you could really ask.

She put her arms around her dragon, and he kissed her. At least, normal for now.

Time passed, and Libby and Alex kept busy. First, she had to fix her cabin. It was still a fortress from the world, which, while not infested with magic, was still infested with evil; and a girl liked a safe and secure place to lay her head.

They visited the grave of a theater actress, last name Black, and left flowers there, although they knew there was no body under the stone. In fact, it was a case they would soon watch on an evening news magazine, amazed at what weird things the reporters took to be suspicious, and at the things that seemed to be completely made up. There was no mention of Nimue or Bronwyn, although an abandoned school gym played largely in the story.

They revisited Cooper's Rock in time to see the rhododendron bloom. Libby touched the rock to see if she could feel the beast, but there was nothing but emptiness and peace.

As for explanations as to what happened on that night of the blue moon, no one sought any. As far as the world was concerned, butterflies did not have vampiric tendencies, flowers did not sing, and there had not been rivers of magic flowing past their doorsteps.

There was one article about a ghost ship floating through town.

Alex does Libby's accounts. He drags her to conventions, and he laughs when people ask him if he minds his wife's fame. People talk about them behind their backs, envious of how much they love each other, charmed by the romance writer living every romance reader's dream.

Sometimes, when there is a second full moon in a month, they stand together next to a window and hang a pendent with a fine silver chain from the latch. They whisper to it, and listen with their ears pressed close.

But that is only once in a blue moon.

Cindy Lynn Speer loves books and the written word, and has spent much of her life involved in them in some way ... from working as a librarian to freelancing as an editor. She's also written several book reviews and articles. This is the part that she usually attempts to be clever, saying something like “When not chained to the computer or reading she can be found doing something else, usually something exciting and mysterious.” Sadly, this would be fantasy, and she likes saving that for her readers. If you really want to find out more about her, please visit www.apenandfire.com.

Deena Fisher was born in Salem, Oregon, the daughter of pastors and the third of their six children. She has lived in nine states and about 40 towns over the course of her life—from North Pole, Alaska, to Orlando, Florida—and now lives in Ohio. She holds degrees in English and education and has studied the literature of the world, but prefers the myths and legends that we tell ourselves to explain the unexplainable.

Deena's held a lot of jobs, from party clown to English teacher, but her current day job is providing website design and business support services for small businesses and creative individuals. She is also the publisher of Drollerie Press, which is more a passion than a profession. Her other loves include design, graphic arts, story and her family. Her first gallery show of her digital paintings was held in December 2007 Cleveland, Ohio. She is married to a long-suffering librarian who feeds her love of books, pays her overdue fines and supports her creativity. Her children include a rock star, a somewhat-goth diva and a jokester.

Another of Deena's passions is charity. Her older brother died of complications from juvenile diabetes in his early thirties and her youngest son is both albino and autistic, so the charities that provide support for those things are her primary focus. A portion of her proceeds from this book will go to support the Organization for Autism Research.