Maggie Blackbird

Snippet Sunday is a group where writers come together to share a few sentences about their current project–whether it’s a recently released novel, a WIP (work in progress), or an older manuscript that’s being revived. For my fourth post, I am sharing a snippet from my upcoming publication She Talks to Eagles, a time-travel, paranormal romance.

He’s shocked that the beautiful girl in the picture is alive…

Maybe the stories of the notorious Route 66 are true because road trips don’t result in encountering ghosts, but they do for Collin Bird.  When he spies a beautiful girl hitchhiking during a thunderstorm, he can’t believe his eyes.  It’s Rosemary, a young woman from his Ojibway community who went missing over forty years ago.

Rosemary Kakeway is dead.  Her only hope to reach the spirit world is Collin.  Before departing to the place of her ancestors, she seeks vengeance against her killers, and Collin is the man to help her do just that.

A ride with Rosemary through pea-soup fog brings Collin to 1977, where he meets a very much alive nineteen-year-old Rosemary.  The bold and wild girl is nothing like he imagined her to be as she introduces him to a time he embraces.  Knowing they are meant to be together, neither wishes to say goodbye, but that’s up to Rosemary’s spirit in the twenty-first century to decide.

Genre(s): Paranormal Romance, Time Travel Romance, First Nations Romance, Contemporary Romance
Heat Rating: Level 2
Publication Date: Coming Soon
Publisher: eXtasy Books

(Note: This is an unedited piece.)

After he ate, Collin cruised around the area, checking out the small town that was flatter than a pancake with desert everywhere.  Thank shit for the air conditioner in his car or he would’ve baked alive.  He’d never experienced this kind of heat before, and he could only compare it to sticking his head into an oven and leaving it there.

But by sunset, he was able to witness the most brilliant colors against the desert of purple, orange, pink, and yellow.  The scenery was straight out of the many images he’d seen on the Internet.

He’d parked his car on a side road, guzzling back a cola, mouth slightly open at the beauty before him.

It’s beautiful, isn’t it?

He whipped on his heel to Rosemary approaching, still in the same outfit as last night.  This time her hair didn’t stick to her face.  Her black, straight strands fluttered in the wind behind her like a veil.

“Rosemary…”  Last night, he couldn’t bring himself to say her name, much less address her informally, but it easily rolled off his tongue this evening.

We must go.  It is time.

“Go where?”  He rounded the vehicle, still holding his cola.

She again appeared in the passenger seat without him looking, nor had her heard the door close, much less open.

We’ll need a shovel.

Collin’s mouth dried and he tilted the can of cola to fill his mouth with liquid.  They were going to her grave.  That was all he could think about.  Maybe even the place she’d been murdered.

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