Ebony Rising (The Raven Queen's Harem 2)

An ornate wood and gold clock sits on the mantle above the fireplace. The tick-tock echoes through the room, accentuating the awkward quiet between me and Anita.

We sit across from one another at a small, square, game table. We’ve swapped questions. It’s a testy process—it’s hard not to feel under attack as a writer during any sort of critique. I do see the value in Christensen linking us up. I feel my skin is getting tougher—unlike the exposed rawness I felt in college when people like Ryan questioned my work. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still ridiculously connected and protective of my story. I know that it’s part of my larger history now—the Morrigan and the Darkness—but I still have the same compulsion to get it down on paper. I want to get it right even if I can’t help but feel defensive.

Anita; with her sapphire blue eyes and long, straight blonde hair smiles at me from across the table. “Do you want to go first?”

No. “Sure.”

She reads from her copy of the questions. “Why does Maverick follow the cat to the woods even though the ravens are freaking out?”

I tap my pen against the paper. The feeling of being in the woods with the cat swallows me whole. I take a breath and say, “Simple curiosity I guess.”

Anita’s smile slips. “That’s not good enough. Maverick is your protagonist. Your main character. She has to have some motivation other than just curiosity.”

My fingers tremble and I snatch them off the table. “Maverick has a feeling—like a gut intuition—she needs to follow that cat. She has to. Just like she communicates with the ravens she has a connection to the cat. It feels natural.”

“But the cat is bad, right?”

“The cat is…” I search for the correct word, “alluring. There’s something about him that’s different. That makes her ignore the ravens. Unfortunately, Maverick has an irrational response to a bad character that leads to deadly, tragic results.”

Anita watches me, her eyes slightly narrowed, as though she knows I’m holding something back. “You’ll have to convince the readers about that. You’re close, but I’m not sure if you’ve sold it yet.”

“Good point,” I say, swallowing back my annoyance. She’s right.

Turnabout is fair play and I get to go after her characters next. It feels liberating—yes, I’m a little vindictive. I almost laugh because if the Morrigan truly resides in my soul, ’a little’ is probably the understatement of the year and I’m actually doing really well with restraint.

The thought makes me feel lighthearted—maybe I am beating the Darkness—and when Anita asks me a question on the way out the door I surprisingly consider it.

“I’m going to a concert tonight and have an extra ticket. Do you want to come?” I do consider it—for a split second—but then hesitate because my days and nights revolve around my routine at the house. Anita notices and says, “I think it would be a great way for us to get to know one another better. Build some trust and camaraderie.”

Leave the house? On a Thursday night? I run through my schedule in my head but I know the evening is free. I just have a session with Damien in the afternoon.

“Come on, Morgan. It could be fun.” She gives me a flirty smile and bats her eyelashes.

She’s quite persuasive. Alluring, even.

“Okay. Yes, let’s do it.”

Anita hops in excitement and squeezes my hands. “This is great! I’ll text you details, okay?”

When the front door closes behind her and I take moment to breathe, I wonder what I’ve gotten myself into. If anything, maybe it will give me a little credit from Professor Christensen for making an effort.

Chapter 16

Morgan

Dinner is a quick affair. I dodge the sultry looks from Clinton, still in a heightened state from earlier in the day, and excuse myself before dessert. Anita instructed me by text to meet her at nine. I don’t dress until after dinner and even though I’m not intentionally hiding anything, I don’t inform the guardians of my plans. They seem hesitant about anything outside The Nead, and although they are my protectors I don’t actually need their permission to leave the house.

I stand before my closet unsure of what to wear. I’ve been in New York for over a month and I haven’t actually been out yet. I pull out my phone.

Suggestions for what to wear?-M

Something fun. Dressy but not too much-A

That doesn’t make sense-M

My phone vibrates and an image pops up. It’s a picture of Anita wearing a sexy red dress with tiered ruffles from the knees to her hips. The front plunges to a deep V between her breasts and has small capped sleeves. Her hair is loose around her shoulders and it’s not straight—she curled it in loose ringlets. The only noticeable makeup is the bold red lipstick.

Got it-M