Truths of the Soul

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Some people view mind-reading as the evolutionary providence of humankind. Of course, “some people” are usually not telepathic, yet they still seem to think they understand everything about the paranormal phenomenon that is a part of Ella and Jonah.

Lavendine becomes a place where Jonah’s dreams suddenly become all too real and, together, they seek to find the Truths behind their enigmatic connection.

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Excerpt

“I don’t want to ruin it,” she said with a little bit of humor in her tone.

“Oh, hell. You won’t ruin it. And if you do, it’s just clay. Dive in, Ella. I’m right here.”

My light humor was awarded with a trickle of laughter from her lips. The sound of her happiness warmed my insides and made me feel complete.

Determination in her gaze, she licked her luscious lips, and braced herself. Dipping her sponge into the water bowl, she then began gliding her dainty fingers along the silky white clay, pulling the sides up like a professional.

“Did you pretend to need my help just so I would stay here with you?” I said jokingly. Her eyes didn’t leave her fingers as she grinned and bit that sexy lip of hers again. I had to close my eyes and take a deep breath, calming myself and my raging guy hormones. She was going to be the end of me.

“I’d like to make this into more of a bottle shape. Is that possible at this point?” she asked sweetly.

“Of course. Take your hands like this and act like you’re wringing its neck,” I said as I lightly guided her hands in the position to bring in the neck of the bottle. Her hands were so soft, especially with the wet porcelain slip gliding through her fingers.

“Now, you don’t want to make it too narrow, because we need some room to bring in the throwing stick,” I explained as I reached over to the community tool barrel and grabbed a throwing stick tool used for throwing bottles.

Once we were pretty much complete with our shape, she brought one of her fingers up and quickly dabbed my nose with wet clay, then honored me with that beautiful laugh of hers.

“Oh, we’re going to play like that, are we?” I chided as I quickly wiped some clay on her cheek. She lightly squealed and backed away to the point where I thought she might lean right off the back of the chair.

Without thinking, I reached around and caught her, placing my very messy, very wet hand dead center on her back, essentially mudding up her shirt.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Ella. I just got clay all over your shirt,” I said as I held her. I was actually holding her and she still stayed solid within my grasp. I wanted to pull her against me and feel her soft body pressed against mine.

“It’s ok. I purposefully wore clothing that could get messy,” she said as she lightheartedly placed both her muddy hands on my chest, making perfect little handprints on the pecks of my t-shirt.

Both of us laughing, we held each other for several moments before finally breaking free and wiping the rest of our mess on the towel. I left her handprints on my shirt – a clear indication she actually touched me and was really and truly here.

As we were finishing up, she stared at our bottle, smiled, and said, “I should have you help me every time. This is beautiful.”

Looking her directly in the eyes, I boldly confessed, “I’d work with you anytime, lovely Ella.”