First Bite

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At least she’d picked a scenic place for her last night.

Geneva Rayne Ross—Neva—hugged herself tightly against the night wind as the waxing moon rose like a frosted pearl overhead. It silvered the wide river far below, lighting its serpentine path along the feet of the Blue Mountains. Frozen sparks of light glittered in the blue-black sky. Was it Van Gogh who said the sight of stars made him dream?

She used to have dreams, too, for herself, for her life…But as Neva gazed at the sky, she felt a tug within her, a deep longing and an excited recognition by something inside her, something that was wild and alien and other. It scared the hell out of her. That’s what had brought her to this beautiful place, driven her to her lonely purpose.

Only a few more nights till the moon is full…And she wouldn’t see it. Not here, not anywhere. The enormity of that fact chilled her much more than the wind, and she shivered. How was she supposed to do this?

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