by Tawdra Kandle
Published January 31st 2013
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After the tumult of her high school senior year, all is right in Tasmyn Vaughan’s world. She’s attending college with her boyfriend, and she’s learning to control her powers. Everything is finally perfect, until it isn’t.
When her new part-time job leads to more than she bargained for, Tasmyn is thrown into a deadly fight against forces of evil that she didn’t even know existed. Mastering her extraordinary gifts—along with the strength of an endless love—may be the only weapon that can guarantee her a happily ever after.
The King Series:About the Author:
Tawdra Kandle is the author of THE KING SERIES, a young adult urban fantasy quartet. Born in South Jersey, Tawdra published her first short story at the age of 13 in Child’s Life magazine. During the early years of her marriage and motherhood, she wrote articles and columns on parenting and homeschooling, as well as some homeschooling curriculum. THE KING SERIES is her first published full-length fiction. Tawdra currently lives in central Florida with her husband, and children, both skin and fur types. And yes, she has purple hair.
I were alone in the middle of our shouting, jostling fellow graduates.
“What are you doing?” he asked me, just above a whisper. “I mean, in the fall.
Are you going to college?”
I forced a smile. “Yes. Going to Perriman. That’s the plan.”
“Of course.” He shifted, and I thought for a second that he was going to turn to
leave. And then he looked over my head. If I thought his eyes were cold before, they
were now frozen.
“Tas!” Michael scooped me into a huge embrace before kissing me senseless.
“Congratulations, high school graduate!”
If I had harbored any doubts, any misgivings, during these few moments with
Rafe, any thoughts that I had made a mistake—they instantly vanished. When Michael
held me, I felt so complete and so full of peace and joy. This was where I belonged.
I turned in his arms to face Rafe. “Michael, you remember Rafe. We were just
talking about college.”
Michael’s arms tightened and I heard the fierce protectiveness of his thoughts.
But he smiled.
“Sure. Rafe, congratulations.”
Rafe’s mouth twisted, but it could hardly be called a smile. “Thanks. You too.”
None of us had to ask why he was congratulating Michael. His eyes darted down to me,
still murky and unreadable.
He turned to go, and Michael reached out to grab his arm. Rafe stilled.
“Hey, man, I want to say—thank you. For—you know. Taking care of. . .things.”
Rafe answered through clenched teeth. “Don’t thank me.” He pulled away from
Michael’s hand and disappeared into the crowd.
That was the last time I saw Rafe.