Night Shade: an Interracial, Paranormal Romance by Melissa Cummins

Author:Melissa Cummins [Cummins, Melissa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Melissa Cummins

The ground was damp under her feet. The puddle she’d stepped into splashed back at her, but she paid it no mind. Daniella’s thoughts had faded to a whisper. There were no voices, no darkness, no emotions, just a pull. An invisible string that connected her to somewhere she knew intimately, so she let it lead her.

Three days ago, she would have been scared, concerned about her irrational childish behavior. She loved the woods, loved nature, but she never had time for it, much less embraced it like she did now. She would have wondered where she was going, if she knew how to get back, thought of meetings she might be late for if she couldn’t, set numerous alarms, and turned on the location on her phone to make sure she would be safe. Those were all things she had to do in NYC.

There was a certain necessary control required when navigating the bustling streets. It’s how one avoided collision, a spilled drink, assault, or stolen property. It was how she kept herself out of danger. Keeping a tight, level head was how she made it through, combined with constant momentum, moving one foot in front of the other until she reached her destination. That had always been her belief, but now she realized her life never had to be that way.

The earth had freedom, something she never knew she needed. Yet here, surrounded by the forest, the scents of pine, maple, and even the poison ivy, she realized this was where she belonged. She knew it would take care of her, that it would keep her safe, as long as she relinquished control, as long as she listened.

Daniella went deeper into the lush forest until she found a break in the trees. Rocks jutted in a circle, irregular yet smooth. They surrounded a bed of wildflowers. Weeds to other people—tiny, insignificant things that would have been plucked from the earth for their unsightliness. They now felt like her greatest treasures.

Careful not to step on them, she wove through the rows before coming to stand in the center. Lifting her head up to the sky, she breathed in and basked in the sunlight, letting it warm her. Then she sank to her knees and cried. She cried for Stacy, for the murdered vampires. She cried for Greg, Luke, and Mya, for the torture and turmoil they had experienced. She cried for their responsibilities, the weight on Greg’s shoulders.

She cried for herself, for never knowing she could be this version of herself that craved so much more but expected so much less. For the toxic ways she had lived her life, the busyness she no longer craved, the distractions, the peace she compromised, the abilities that had hidden within her for such a long time. Had she always lived this way, as half of a person, fearing that if she let go even for a moment, she would turn to drugs like her mother?

She cried for who her mother had

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