N. Walters: Threads of Destiny

“It is,” he agreed as he cupped her breast in his hand.

She stilled. “Again?” she gasped almost breathless at the thought.

“Again.” He smiled as he lowered his mouth to hers, their lips touching in a tender caress.

It was several hours later before Kathryn thought about what she’d meant to say to Marc. They’d gotten sidetracked. She wrapped her arms around herself and laughed, just thinking about what they’d done. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her.

Destiny was a funny thing. She’d found the tattered book in the attic. Inside its pages she’d first met Marc. Then she’d discovered the journal and the tapestry. All of it had led her here. She could almost here Sarainta’s laughter echoing in her mind.

Our lives are bound. Connected with the finest of threads, which reach across time and space to touch and knit together to form something new.

“Threads of destiny,” she whispered as she picked up her purse in search of her brush. Her hand struck something soft and square. Wrapping her fingers around it, she tugged out the journal, opening it to the final page she’d read. But there was now more writing scrawled across the paper.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she read her own story. She knew that the journal didn’t pass judgment on the choices people made. That could only be done by the people who made them—for good or for bad.

She sighed and started to shut the book but something made her flip through the blank pages at the back. Writing jumped out and she stopped. The page was blank except for two names—Tienan and Logan.

Her heart began to pound. Maybe she would find out what happened to them.

Someday. Her fingers traced over the empty page, willing more writing to appear but it remained unchanged.

Perhaps at some point in the future the tapestry would bring them back to Javara.

But she didn’t really believe that would happen. The tapestry’s magic was in its ability to seek out women who could thrive here. She knew the secret of calling the tapestry but she had no idea how to make it bring her friends back to her. Even magic had logic and rules governing it. Maybe in time, she’d understand more.

The door to the room opened and Marc stepped inside. “Are you ready?” Kathryn closed the journal and tucked it and her brush back into her purse. Her heart felt lighter. If their names were in there, she at least knew that they were still alive.

That was something.

Rising, she shook out the folds of the pretty green dress that Christina had brought her. The bodice was embroidered with colorful flowers and the sleeves went all the way to her wrists. The fabric was fitted to the waist and then fell in soft folds all the way to her ankles. On her feet were soft, leather shoes. She normally didn’t like dresses but today was different. Today she was marrying the man she loved.

“I’m ready.” Walking over to Marc, she took his hand.

He raised her fingers to his lips and kissed it. “Together.”

“Together,” she echoed as they walked down the stairs to the crowd waiting below.

N.J. Walters worked at a bookstore for several years and one day had the idea that she would like to quit her job, sell everything she owned, leave her hometown and write romance novels in a place where no one knew her. And she did. Two years later, she went back to the same bookstore and settled in for another seven years.

Although she was still fairly young, that was when the mid-life crisis set in.

Happily married to the love of her life, with his encouragement (more like, “For God’s sake, quit the job and just write!”) she gave notice at her job on a Friday morning. On Sunday afternoon, she received a tentative acceptance for her first erotic romance novel, Annabelle Lee, and life would never be the same.

N.J. has always been a voracious reader of romance novels, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, dragons, time-travelers, seductive handymen and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks all vie for her attention. And she doesn’t mind a bit. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.

N.J. welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.