Read Online New Frost: Winter Witches by Phaedra Weldon - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Phaedra Weldon
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my mom. Sarah Frost was a paragon of contradictions. But when she made her mind up, she never wavered. She legally changed her name when I was born so we would both carry my dad's surname. And she swore she would never love a man the way she loved him.
When I was little, I used to think I could hear voices outside of my window on cold nights. It would never snow but it would sleet and there was always more ice in our yard than any of the other houses. I always knew it was dad.
"Well…maybe this Christmas will be different for you and your mom."
A huge black SUV pulled up to the curb and honked its horn. Matice turned and waved. "That's my mom. Look, you've got my number, right?"
"Yeah. I've got your number."
"If you feel bad or sad or you need to talk, you call me. Got it? Any time day or night. I'll be at my mom's in Dunwoody but if you need me I can be back up here in an hour and a half." He stood and then bent down close to my face; closer than he'd ever been before. "There are people who love you here, too."
And he kissed me.
Matice had never kissed me before.
His mouth was warm and his tongue just brushed the edges of my lips.
The SUV honked again and he pulled back with the biggest, dumbest grin I'd ever seen on his face. "You're warm, Amy. How is it you can be out here in the cold with no coat and you're still so warm?" He winked at me and ran to the SUV.
"Hey…where is your luggage?"
"I've wearing it!" He waved, got into the SUV and the driver took off.
I sat there, on my suitcase, my fingers tracing my lips where he kissed me. The way my heart felt, the flutter and pulse of it inside of my chest… I heard cracking nearby and looked to my right to see the water in the birdbath freeze and climb up in the center to form an ice rose.
Panicked I got up and ran to the bath. My thought was to dash the rose away…but I couldn't. Not because it was something my subconscious might have created…but because it was something my dad…might have made.
Another SUV pulled up, this one a Lincoln Navigator. Crow liked big cars. Even his truck, the one he liked to drive back and forth to work in, was big. He parked at the curb, left the motor running and got out.
His tall, wide shouldered physique was comforting to see. As was his long black hair pulled back in a dark braid down his back. And perched on his head was the big black stetson that he so rarely ever removed. He wore old jeans, work boots and a battered leather jacket.
I jumped up and ran to him and we caught each other in a tight embrace. But nothing ever escaped his gaze and he pulled me back to nod at the bird bath. "You?"
"I think so."
"We need to talk, Amelia."
"I know. Just…not right now. I want to get into town before the temperature drops again."
"Then put your jacket on before people start talking."
I did as he asked and he grabbed my lugged and put it in the back. We pulled away from Donavan Hall as Maroon 5's "Maps" played on the radio.
•••
The first time I realized I'd inherited a little something from my dad I was fourteen.
Tommy Gustoff made fun of me in eighth grade when I told him and some others that Jack Frost was my dad. It was October and still hot outside. He and Bob Mercer were arguing over the fact it never snowed in Atlanta anymore. Which was the truth. It hadn't snowed since the Christmas before I was born. So I happened to say that was when my dad became Jack Frost. Well, the story everyone else knew was my dad was a cop and he was shot by his crazy mom. My grandmother. A nut-job my mom refused to let me meet.
Tommy laughed at me and said I was pathetic for making up lies like that just so I could pretend I had a daddy like everyone else. You can pretty much guess how the rest of the fight went, but you'll never guess how it ended.
I threw a snowball at him. Right in the face. No joke. In seventy degree weather. It just showed up in my
When I was little, I used to think I could hear voices outside of my window on cold nights. It would never snow but it would sleet and there was always more ice in our yard than any of the other houses. I always knew it was dad.
"Well…maybe this Christmas will be different for you and your mom."
A huge black SUV pulled up to the curb and honked its horn. Matice turned and waved. "That's my mom. Look, you've got my number, right?"
"Yeah. I've got your number."
"If you feel bad or sad or you need to talk, you call me. Got it? Any time day or night. I'll be at my mom's in Dunwoody but if you need me I can be back up here in an hour and a half." He stood and then bent down close to my face; closer than he'd ever been before. "There are people who love you here, too."
And he kissed me.
Matice had never kissed me before.
His mouth was warm and his tongue just brushed the edges of my lips.
The SUV honked again and he pulled back with the biggest, dumbest grin I'd ever seen on his face. "You're warm, Amy. How is it you can be out here in the cold with no coat and you're still so warm?" He winked at me and ran to the SUV.
"Hey…where is your luggage?"
"I've wearing it!" He waved, got into the SUV and the driver took off.
I sat there, on my suitcase, my fingers tracing my lips where he kissed me. The way my heart felt, the flutter and pulse of it inside of my chest… I heard cracking nearby and looked to my right to see the water in the birdbath freeze and climb up in the center to form an ice rose.
Panicked I got up and ran to the bath. My thought was to dash the rose away…but I couldn't. Not because it was something my subconscious might have created…but because it was something my dad…might have made.
Another SUV pulled up, this one a Lincoln Navigator. Crow liked big cars. Even his truck, the one he liked to drive back and forth to work in, was big. He parked at the curb, left the motor running and got out.
His tall, wide shouldered physique was comforting to see. As was his long black hair pulled back in a dark braid down his back. And perched on his head was the big black stetson that he so rarely ever removed. He wore old jeans, work boots and a battered leather jacket.
I jumped up and ran to him and we caught each other in a tight embrace. But nothing ever escaped his gaze and he pulled me back to nod at the bird bath. "You?"
"I think so."
"We need to talk, Amelia."
"I know. Just…not right now. I want to get into town before the temperature drops again."
"Then put your jacket on before people start talking."
I did as he asked and he grabbed my lugged and put it in the back. We pulled away from Donavan Hall as Maroon 5's "Maps" played on the radio.
•••
The first time I realized I'd inherited a little something from my dad I was fourteen.
Tommy Gustoff made fun of me in eighth grade when I told him and some others that Jack Frost was my dad. It was October and still hot outside. He and Bob Mercer were arguing over the fact it never snowed in Atlanta anymore. Which was the truth. It hadn't snowed since the Christmas before I was born. So I happened to say that was when my dad became Jack Frost. Well, the story everyone else knew was my dad was a cop and he was shot by his crazy mom. My grandmother. A nut-job my mom refused to let me meet.
Tommy laughed at me and said I was pathetic for making up lies like that just so I could pretend I had a daddy like everyone else. You can pretty much guess how the rest of the fight went, but you'll never guess how it ended.
I threw a snowball at him. Right in the face. No joke. In seventy degree weather. It just showed up in my
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