A Murder of Magpies (37 page)
Read A Murder of Magpies Online
Authors: Sarah Bromley
Tags: #fantasy, #paranormal, #love and romance, #gothic
Not yet, Sis.
Where are you?
The unrepentant fire of Jonah’s mind dimmed to cold ash.
He needed more time. There was nothing I could do but wait, keep trying, and pray
he’d open up to me again.
I opened Jonah’s envelope to find a photograph of Mom. The picture was one I saw hundreds
of times. Dad kept a framed copy on his desk at our old house in Hemlock. A black-and-white
portrait showed Mom’s cat-like smile as she peeked out of the corner of her eye. The
edges of the picture were soot-stained and charred. Something else was in the envelope.
My mother’s metal hair clip with red flowers and green stones. I didn’t dare touch
it, but I did take out my brother’s note, which simply read:
They survived the fire
.
By the middle of the night, the house was too quiet, my bed too cold, and I couldn’t
get back to sleep. Ward was lying in bed with me when I drifted off, but he was gone.
A quick check in Dad and Jonah’s rooms, more habit than anything else, proved they
were gone as well.
I wasn’t ready for this. I didn’t want to be alone.
The living room was amber with the light from a single lamp. Ward slept on the couch,
a blanket over his legs and a book of crossword puzzles open on his chest. As if sensing
me, he stirred.
“What are you doing awake?” he asked.
“Can’t sleep,
gadjo
,” I said.
He patted Bernadette sleeping at his feet. “God, do I know what that’s like.”
He climbed off the couch, taking the blanket with him, and together we curled up on
the floor in front of the wood stove. Too many shadowed corners and empty rooms. I
hung onto him, and his lips grazed my neck before he gathered some kindling. The winters
in Black Orchard were long and bleak. The dark months would end, but I was still cold.
Terribly cold. Ward and I took turns striking the flint and steel together until the
sparks ignited and became a steady fire we couldn’t afford to let die out.
This book came to be with the help of many people. I am so grateful to them.
My agent, Miriam Kriss, whose continued passion and dedication are fierce. I trust
my word gremlins to you.
My editor, Courtney Koschel, for her guidance and trust, for pushing me in just the
right places. My publisher, Georgia McBride, for taking a chance. The Month9Books
crew, especially Lindsay Leggett and Cameron Yeager, for their time in making this
book what I always hoped it’d be, and Jaime Arnold, who is such a powerhouse.
I can’t write without my elements. Windy Aphayrath, you made the crazy girl crazier.
Amanda Bonilla, we held hands and skipped down this road together, and hasn’t it been
quite a journey? Cole Gibsen, our timeshare in “the Pit” has gone up for sale. Thank
you so much for agreeing to meet Shawny and me that day, even if you did sit with
your back to the wall in case we were certifiable. Shawntelle Madison, birthday parties
can change everything. Hillary Monahan, a kindred spirit, you push to me to be better.
Heather Brewer who took me under her dark cloak.
Heather Reid who is always there with words of wisdom and love.
The YA Scream Queens—Cat Scully, Courtney Alameda, Dawn Kurtagich, Hillary Monahan
(again!), Jenn “J.R.” Johansson, Lauren Roy, Lindsay N. Currie, and Trisha Leaver—because
we need more spooky.
So many people who helped me as I wrote Magpies and in the time getting ready for
the book to be shared: Christina Ahn, Wolf and Gypsi Ballard, Sandra Fenton, Maria
Fernandez, Valerie Gerbus, Emily Hall and Main Street Books in St. Charles, Missouri;
Shaun David
Hutchinson, Antony John and the coffee gab crew, Beth and Gabrielle Jones for more
coffee, Sara King, Jackie Morse Kessler for her mentorship, Jamie Krakover, Andrew
Lovitt, Jenny McCormick-Friehs, Meredith Maresco, Marie Meyer, LS Murphy, Bebe Nickolai,
Rachel Nygren, Kelly Oswald and Mary Beth Pilcher, Rachel Rieckenberg, Dorothy Rush,
Judi Tabb, Dawn April Terviel, Dawn Thompson, Dana Waganer, Judy Williams for letting
me write in junior year English class instead of taking notes, Melissa Williams, Erich
Zwettler, all of Jabber Jaws, the BookYArd, Walter, David, Annika, Gwendolyn, Adrian,
and Brendan.
For Jack and Lucille Powell. Lucy, I have known you longer than I knew my own mother,
and I am so grateful for all that you do, all you say, and all your love.
For Ericka Zwettler. There is no better big sister. Ever.
And Tim. There was always Tim. Dad was right when he said you’re like Superman.
For my parents, Sharon and Richard, and my brother Michael. I love you. See you on
the other side.
Sarah Bromley lives near St. Louis with her husband, three children, and three dogs.
She likes the quiet hours of morning when she can drink coffee in peace, stare into
the woods behind her house, and wonder what monsters live there. When she’s not writing
or wrangling small children, she can be found volunteering at a stable for disabled
riders.
BRANDED
INTO THE FIRE
PREDATOR
CROWN OF ICE
ENDLESS
PRAEFATIO
THE LOOKING GLASS
OF BREAKABLE THINGS
FIRE IN THE WOODS
LIFER
A SHIMMER OF ANGELS and A SLITHER OF HOPE
SCION OF THE SUN
CALL ME GRIM
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