The Beckoning of Beautiful Things (The Beckoning Series) Read Online Free

mellifluous voice that drew tears from the eyes and stirred passion in the heart. Her father, Kellen, a handsome German-Irish man, had been a conductor at the Seattle Symphony. They frequently flew to exotic places when her mother had a gig somewhere or sometimes just for fun. Their last trip had been a pleasure trip turned tragedy.
    Smiling at her mother’s reassurance, she noted tanned workers in the garden, pulling weeds, hoeing, digging holes, tying off vines, and watering. They all smiled and inclined their heads as they saw her. The scene looked friendly and colorful, like a theme park display. She grinned and nodded back. The workers filled muddy holes at the base of each vine. She glanced down to see the same, shimmering, ghostly apparition she had seen in the dream-like image of the Sea of Cortez staring up at her, when she stood in the store with that delicious man she just met. Do I know her?
    The cool tendrils continued to reach for her. Her skin snapped and popped with electricity, as if she were shorting out. She shook off the green coils. She plucked them from her skin. They snaked up her arms and tightened, restricting her movement. One long filament wound around her neck and squeezed, causing tiny explosions of light to crackle from her neck. Several others corkscrewed around her chin and face, making it difficult to breathe.
    The light in the sky kept flickering on and off, like someone was turning off the sun. The whole vision started to take on a herky-jerky, now-you-see-it-now-you-don’t kind of appearance, like an old, old movie being played in a worn out film projector.
    Her eye s flew wildly around the garden, and her body twitched. Where did the garden workers go? All she could see were scarecrows, their vacant, smiling eyes staring into space. Some of them appeared burnt. Their charred clothes flaked off their straw-stuffed torsos and whirled away in the wind. A few were missing, leaving only smoking stakes. The green goddess had pulled herself from her watery, mud puddle world and sprinted away from her down the long row, her hair muddy and clinging to her back, her clothes dripping from her body. Her silvery voice called out, “I’m free!”
    The light show immediately ceased. Marissa let out a small whimper, like a dreaming dog.
    “Shhh,” Jason said.
    Maybe the goddess is me? Maybe Jason is the bindings. I need to get this over with and cut free. “We need to talk.”
    “Shhh,” he said again.
    Jason’s quiet, deep breathing lulled her back to the pres ent. “That’s better. That one had a real kick, huh?” he said, still pressing his bony head to hers.
    “ I miss my mom,” she blurted as tears filled her eyes. This is why I don’t invite closeness into my life. Relationships end.
    “I know , I know. You’ve told me that. Shhh.” He slowly eased back and examined her. He tucked her hair behind her ears and gazed into her eyes.
    “I hate it when things change.”
    “Shhh.” He kissed her eyelids. “You’re such a silly girl. I’ll keep you safe.”
    “I’m not a girl. I’m a woman.”
    He nibbled her lips like a rabbit taste-testing a carrot. “You’re such a silly woman, then. Relax, doll.”
    “We need to talk.” She regarded his sky-blue orbs, feeling the safety and familiarity of his childlike gaze. That was one of the things she loved about him. He regarded life with openness and childlike wonder. That was one of the things she hated about him. He refused to grow up, mature, and act responsibly. With Jason Harmonia Brown, it was always push-pull. She snapped from her moment of tenderness. “Okay, there’s your two minutes.”
    “Shhh,” Jason soothed again.
    “No, shhh, I said I didn’t want to do this. I want to go in, feed my dog, and get ready for my date. But first I need to say something to you.”
    Jason grabbed her legs and guided them around his hips in yab-yum, a Tantra position he enjoyed. His erection was as stiff as before. It jabbed at her