It’s past midnight. I wish I was at a party dancing my legs off. Well, maybe not, you know, with the legs … but dancing, at least. Instead I’m listening to Marina and the Diamonds, writhing my body to the sounds on my sofa, and writing about Aia and Lyder venturing out to find Princess Tira in book two of The Witch of Luna Hill.
Because Bragimark and the war against Parmona is just sooo ‘how to be a heartbreaker’.
Nmmyeah, not really. But at least I’m writing. Want a teeny tiny taste? M’kay, here goes:
“Are you kidding me? You’ll live! Don’t be such a wuss! You are Freya Willand, the most powerful witch in all of Bragimark. Act like it.”
She stared at him with disbelief, the anger looming. “Are you at least going to help me up?”
“They took our horses,” he repeated.
“And? If I hadn’t put up the shield they would have taken us too.” She stood up and brushed down her clothes. “I’m beginning to think you hate me,” Aia mumbled. “I’m not sure why I even bother helping you. You are such an insensitive idiot.”
“Yeah, and you never got around to answering my question about Rief.”
Awww, sounds like they are having the BEST time ever!