Sommer Marsden

Lost in You


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      Lost in You

      Sommer Marsden

      Table of Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Part Two: Real Life

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Chapter Twenty-One

       Part Three: Away from the Magic

       Chapter Twenty-Two

       Chapter Twenty-Three

       Chapter Twenty-Four

       Chapter Twenty-Five

       Chapter Twenty-Six

       Chapter Twenty-Seven

       Chapter Twenty-Eight

       Chapter Twenty-Nine

       Chapter Thirty

       Part Four: Happily Ever After …?

       Chapter Thirty-One

       Chapter Thirty-Two

       Chapter Thirty-Three

       More from Mischief

       Copyright

       About the Publisher

Part One: The Storm

       Chapter One

      One glance at the stained-glass dome told me the sky had greyed further. There was no way to judge actual sunlight or the weather itself, but I could definitely tell it had darkened.

      ‘Hey, pretty lady! You sending us home early? What’s the occasion?’

      I was already grinning when I turned and started towards Mario. One of the few overseers of labour I trusted to take care of business. ‘The glass man –’ I twirled my fingers at the overhead dome and smiled ‘– he likes to work in private.’

      I shrugged to show him I understood how silly it seemed.

      ‘He’s sensitive?’ Mario cocked his head and winked at me.

      A laugh burst free and I nodded, hoping against hope that Marcel Voorhees had yet to arrive.

      Wind whipped outside making the large automatic doors creak. All entrances to the Rotunda were sealed tight but for this one. The place was deserted for renovations. Renovations I was in charge of – a fact that made me reel from surprise daily.

      It was a big job. A big deal.

      ‘Better for you to get home early,’ I said, getting closer to Mario and his men. Don was a short, dark man with a thin moustache and dark, dark eyes. Mitchell was a college boy, tall and broad – the term ‘corn-fed’ fit him to a T. They all grinned at me and I grinned back. ‘This weather is supposed to get nasty very fast.’

      ‘What about you? You’ll be OK?’ The good humour faded from Mario’s eyes and genuine concern showed.

      ‘I will. I’ll stay safe.’ It felt like a lie. More wind made those doors creak and my stomach filled with a twisting nervousness. I worried about my little house, my drive home … most of all my grandmother.

      ‘You do that,’ Mario said. ‘If you need anything –’ He patted his cellphone to finish the thought.

      ‘Got it.’ I smiled at him and made a shooing motion at them all. ‘Now go. Go home early. Or go to a bar and have a beer.’ I levelled a finger at them. ‘A bar close to home. That way you can walk if this thing hits us full-on.’

      The weatherman had predicted a storm of the century. A monster