BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR
This short story is now available in a longer, more developed novelette for those who sign up for my newsletter. I’ll leave the first few paragraphs here to give you an idea.
It was originally written at reader request, as a thank you to those of you who loved Damien and Jasmine in A Wish Upon Jasmine and wanted to see more of them and their first encounter.
Note that as an author, I really intend this as an extra, to be read after A Wish Upon Jasmine for those of you who want just a little more. (In fact, I’m kind of biting my nails about whether I should make it available at all.) There are good narrative reasons that their first meeting is a memory in the book and not the starting scene. BUT…obviously you are a free citizen. 🙂 Here’s the start…
She sprayed the wish of a scent at the door in retreat, slipping away from the noisy crowd of the gorgeous and glamorous. Cold had kept the terrace empty, and Jess nestled close to one of the patio heaters, looking down at the lights of New York. The wind kept blowing the heater’s warmth away, a harsh reminder of the world that waited for her the second she abandoned this party.
Stupid party. She didn’t know why she’d ever talked herself into believing her friends. Just get out more. Go! Try to meet someone!
Yeah, right. At a perfume launch party? What an idiot she was. She didn’t work that way, in gloss and glitter. She needed quiet. She needed time.
And she was all out of time.
I’m going to be so alone.
Jess closed her eyes. Weight sank from her shoulders to her forearms, heavy against the railing. She looked up, craning her neck for any sign of a star, and slipped her hand into her purse, bringing out the wishing scent she had made that day.
Her thumb rubbed the crystal bottle rhythmically as she brought it to her nose. Bitter almonds for Christmas, the scent of every happy family; vanilla like a mother somewhere baking cookies; jasmine for her father, the star-shaped flower he loved so much he had named her for it. She rubbed the bottle wistfully but couldn’t spot a real star to make a wish on.
Of course not. Whatever star had shone at her birth had turned into a black hole two years ago and was now sucking the last bit of light out of her world. She thrust the bottle back into her pocket.
A man moved into the open glass doors. She braced. Yet another gorgeous guy. In fact, he had to be one of the handsomest men she had ever seen—black-haired, a hard beauty to his face, perfection carved out of stone. Tall and lean and oh-so-elegant, he stopped short at the sight of her already out on the terrace.
The rest of this story is now available for download as part of the 30-page novelette NIGHT WISH for newsletter subscribers. I hope you enjoy!
Copyright Laura Florand, 2015.