Transcendent: Tales of the Paranormal

Transcendent: Tales of the ParanormalTranscendent: Tales of the Paranormal by Lani Woodland


This is a great collection of short stories by many great YA writers, including Lani Woodland, Melanie Marks, Wendy Swore, and...well, me! I am so excited about the pending release of this project. Stay tuned, and I'll give a release date in the next week or two.

One of my stories is co-authored with Wendy Swore. It was a lot of fun writing with her. She has a great style that meshes well with my own. So be sure to read about the boy struck by lightning in the story Strike.

The other story I have in this collection is called Feather. Here's one of my favorite passages from my story:

A rustle of wings and a hawk feather drifts down to me. Snatching it from the air, I look up into the trees, but nothing’s there. So I tuck the feather into my hair.

“What are you doing?”

My stomach leaps into my throat, and I jump up, stumbling backward, and fall on my butt in the middle of the path. In the tree above me, a teenage boy perches on a branch. He’s dressed in traditional deerskin breeches, a talon necklace around his neck, but rather than moccasins, his feet are bare. He is shirtless, and lean muscles cord his body.
His intense eyes capture my attention. They’re like golden fathomless pools. I could get lost in them.

“Don’t your feet get hurt, walking barefoot on the forest floor?” I ask.

“I rarely walk.” He drops down in front of me. His face is so close that I take a step back and thump into a tree. He leans toward me and sniffs. “You smell different. What are you?”

“I’m a girl.” I can’t take my gaze from his.

“No, humans stink. You smell…” He sniffs my hair and grins. “You smell good.”

“Is there a reason that you’re invading my space? I have somewhere to be.” My voice cracks.

He tugs one of my braids and winks at me. My pulse quickens, and my breath catches in my throat. His eyes study me with intensity, and he leans closer. Is he going to kiss me?

“I don’t know what’s up with you, but I don’t like it.”

“You have a feather in your hair. A hawk’s feather.”

My hand flies to the feather tucked into my hair. “So?”

“Nothing.” He shrugs, but a secretive smile spreads across his face.


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