The title and cover of the 4th and final installment of the Between Series.
I present to you:
We get another teaser, Angels.
Are you ready?
WARNING: MAJOR SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T READ EVEN IN DARKNESS
#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!#!# !#!#!#!#
Deep in the night, my bladder screamed at me, demanding that I get out of bed, even though it felt like I’d done the same thing ten minutes before. Blearily, I pulled off the covers and padded down the hall to our tiny bathroom. The cottage where we lived was originally Sarah MacKinnon’s mother’s home and it was a great size for one person. But the bathroom was minuscule, and felt even smaller now that I had a huge belly. With my eyes still closed, I wedged myself between the sink and the toilet and emptied the thimble that had become my bladder.
The baby shifted and I placed my hand over my stomach instinctively, feeling a bony knee or elbow move underneath my palm. A moment later, a swift kick underneath my ribs had me gasping for air. Damn, that hurt. Groaning, I hurried to finish up, thinking that maybe the baby would settle down if I got back into bed. When I stood to pull on my panties, I felt a pop and then a gush of fluid running down my legs. It felt like I was peeing all over myself, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. I knew what was happening, but I had no idea what to do. Should I stay in the bathroom? Should I call for Aiden?
This is it. Oh my goodness.
My heart rate kicked up with excitement and panic while I waddled sideways, then turned and tried to bend down to get a pad out of the cabinet under the sink. It was impossible. I simply couldn’t bend like that, especially not while I was streaming a river around my feet. I wanted to be self-sufficient and I didn’t want to wake Aiden because it could be hours before labor started, but I couldn’t go back to bed now. Hell, I couldn’t even leave the bathroom. Tears of frustration started to well up and I swallowed hard to keep it together.
“Aiden?” I called softly. His gentle snore told me he was completely out of it. I tried again, with more volume. “Aiden, honey?”
Two heavy footsteps echoed down the hall and then he was there: naked, tousled, his eyes wild and afraid. “What’s happened? Are ye hurt?” He swept his gaze over my body until he saw the puddle on the floor.
“My water broke,” I explained, like that wasn’t obvious.
His eyes snapped up and held mine. Deer in the headlights doesn’t begin to explain it. My confident, assured, strong, and resourceful husband simply stared at me.
All that childbirth preparation we’d done flew out the window as his brain clawed its way back from a dead sleep.
“Um, could you get a pad out for me? I can’t bend down to reach it,” I said, wondering how it was that, even dripping all over the floor, I was the voice of calm here. “And I need some new panties.”
“Right,” he said, then hovered in place for a second, trying to decide which to do first: head to the dresser or squeeze past me to dig through the bathroom cabinet. Before he made up his mind, I put my hand on his arm and gave a shaky laugh.
“Aiden, it’s happening. We’re having a baby.”
His eyes glistened with tears and he grabbed me in a hug. I clung to him, feeling my own eyes water. When he pulled away, he seemed to have come back to himself. He cupped my cheeks in his hands and kissed me lightly.
“I love you,” he said. “Dinna fash. I’m here.”
Grinning, I let the moment linger before I reminded him, “Still need those panties.”
And then he was off, streaking down the hall like he’d been shot out of a cannon
Thank you to Cyndi Tefft for writing this series. We may be a small group of fans but we love you so much and are so grateful to you.
Thank you to Lindsey and Aiden for showing us how strong the love between two people can be. It literally defied death again and again.
Thank you to Lindsay Cox for being an incredibly creative fan and taking charge when I can't. I am eternally grateful to you.
Thank you to Theresa Largusa for being a very organized Angel. Not only has she helped put this little project together but she's also had so many amazing ideas, been insanely supportive and encouraged everyone around her.
And finally THANK YOU, to you, the Aiden's Angels. You have been crazy, and quiet, supportive, and sweet - hell you're helping to send me to New Orleans to meet Cyndi, but mostly you've been there to share the love we all have for this incredible series.
Oh my Angels, it has been too long since we've last spoken. So much has happened that I'm so excited to share with you.
First and foremost: THANK YOU to everyone who donated and spread the word about the VTtoRT campaign. It worked! You guys helped raise enough money to pay for my registration into the RT Booklovers Convention and in May, Cyndi and I are going down there to meet in person. I'm trying to convince her to vlog while we're down there so if that's something you want to see us do, tweet her to let her know.
I am so excited to be able to go, I can't thank you all enough.
Secondly, I've started updating the site again. If you look at the tab bar, you'll notice I've (finally) added the teasers for Book 4, and added a tab for all of your fabulous Interviews and Reviews. Also, if you look under the "Follow Cyndi" tab you'll find more of her writing from her Goodreads account.
I'm getting around to adding more of the fan art and that you guys have been sending in over the last few months. Art like this:
![]() |
| Pau Castillo
If any of you review any of the books or create fan art or write fan fiction I encourage you to email me or tweet me with the link so we can share it with everyone.
As I said back in December, we're trying to come up with a "shipper" name for Aiden and Lindsey so please tweet your ideas to Cyndi (@cynditefft) and myself (@vatrask)
|
| On the Right |
“What can I get for ye?"
“Whisky, neat.”
The man had the audacity to laugh. “You’ll have to be more specific, I’m afraid. We’ve dozens to choose from.”
Torag studied him for a moment, then came to a decision. “What’s your name?”
The bartender looked momentarily taken aback, but then shrugged. “Kevin. Why?”
“Well, Kevin, I’m new to whisky,” Torag lied. “What would you recommend?” And just like that, Kevin’s round face broke into a joyous grin and he launched into an impressive dissertation on the many nuances of whisky. Torag responded in all the right places, inserting a “Really?” and “Wow, I had no idea” from time to time, just to keep him talking. Kevin set up four shot glasses on the bar in front of him, then plied him with tasters of whisky from the four regions of Scotland, having scorned blends in favor of the more patriotic single malt scotch. Torag dutifully sipped from each, proclaiming that Kevin was right about the differences in each.
“You sure know a lot about whisky,” Torag said, trying to sound delightfully dim. “Have you lived in Orkney long?”
“All my life,” Kevin declared with pride. “Only been to the mainland once. Wife’s never even been that far.”
“Incredible,” Torag replied, then asked for a glass of the 12 year GlenMorangie. As Kevin poured, Torag’s heart pounded heavy in his chest, but he forced his voice into a casual tone. “So you must have been around during that power surge a while back, right?”
“Boy, was I! The whole island was blacked out, not a damn thing worked. Cracked a standing stone right in half, it did.”
“Is that right? Where was that?”
“The Barnhouse Stone, out near Malcolm’s place.”
Torag’s pulse raced wildly and he paused to take another sip to hide his interest. “Malcolm a friend of yours? What’s he think of the cracked stone?”
“We go way back—cut teeth at the same time, we did—but I wouldn’t say we’re mates. He goes his way and I go mine. So I can’t say as I’ve asked him what he thinks, but I wouldn’t put it past him to chalk it up to that damn prophecy.”
Everything inside Torag screamed for him to jump over the bar and shake this fat little man by the throat until he spilled every last detail he knew. Instead, he asked for a refill to keep Kevin occupied.
“Prophecy, huh? A prophecy about what?”
“Och, I dunno. Some such nonsense he got passed down from his Da and his Da before him. Started back at Culloden times, if I recall. Showed it to me when we were kids, though his Da would have been spitting mad if he’d known as only MacRaes were allowed to see it.” Kevin rolled his eyes and waved his towel over the bar like he was swatting a fly. “Says something about a blood sacrifice and crimson globes, whatever the hell that means. Freaked the hell out of me anyway.” With a rueful shake of his head, he schooled his expression into one of pity. “MacRaes never have had it easy, what with Malcolm raising those kids on his own now. Wife passed just last year. Cancer, it was. Poor man.”
Yes, poor man indeed, Torag thought to himself, and began formulating his plan.