This year’s goal is to use my website more to keep people updated on my books and life, and it’s still taking me some time to get this particular item up and running. But here’s the start. I’m going to try to keep consistent on this. What I’d like is for every first and third Saturday to be Snippet Saturday where I can post a small snippet from one of my books. We’ll see how you like them! Here’s the first, from “Gargoyle’s Pixie” the second book in the Gargoyle Collection. It’s a standalone, and book one doesn’t have to be read first for this book to be understood.
I leapt into the air, but I was barely off the ground before a strong hand came at me from the left, scooping me from the air and pinning my wings in his hold. The angle at which they were twisted sent a sharp ache into my back and I hissed past the pain. Wincing, I tried not to move.
“What have we here?” he mused with soft laughter. “Hello, pixie.”
Without being able to cross my arms in defiance since they were pinned in his hold as well, I settled for glaring at him. I was minding my own business. Why had he felt the need to capture me?
“Out spying for your swarm, huh?”
I continued to glare. There was no reason to admit to this gargoyle that I didn’t have a swarm. He wouldn’t believe me anyway.
“You found her?” the cheery female voice called from behind the gargoyle. “Can I see her?”
“Easy, Lari, you don’t know how many others are around,” another gargoyle spoke up. It sounded like the blond man. “They’re feisty when they’re in a large group. If it’s a scout, we’ll be fine. If it’s the whole swarm, then tonight is going to be rough.”
“Where’s your swarm?” the gargoyle who held me asked, but I turned away, closing my eyes. I didn’t have to answer to him. He shook me slightly, but for him, slightly was enough to whip my head back and forth in a violent motion. My wing pinched and I hissed again, but refused to show him the level of pain it had caused on my face. “Where is your swarm, pixie?”
“Stop manhandling her,” the female, Lari, said from beside the gargoyle. I lifted my eyes to her and found a tall, black winged gargoyle with long, strawberry blonde hair staring at me. “She’s pretty. I love your hair.”
“Thanks,” I muttered.
“So, she does talk,” the gargoyle who held me mused. “You just don’t want to talk to me?”
“You’re holding me in your hand and pinching my wings. What do you think?” I growled, which was a stupid idea and I clamped my mouth shut.
He cocked a grin at me. “Would it be better if I held onto you by your wings instead?”
“No. Put me down.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t do that. We can’t have you running off to your swarm and telling them where we are, now can we?”
It was no use. I wasn’t getting out of this with my dignity intact. Heck, I was being held in a gargoyle’s grip. My dignity had already taken a low blow. It couldn’t get much worse.
Dropping my head, I mumbled, “I don’t have a swarm.”
Gargoyle’s Pixie
Heather Karn 