[THIS STORY WILL BE TAKEN DOWN ON SEPTEMBER 30, 2024]
This is a collection of bonus scenes I've written over the years. Some are part of later books in the series. Some short stories are simply 'What If' scenarios. Some moments are scenes that happe...
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I glared at the stocky little prick I had pinned up against the back wall of the garden shed. The collar of his fancy designer shirt bunched between my fingers as I used it to yank him closer. Snarling, I asked, "So what are you going to do from now on?"
Rocco's blotchy face scrunched as he wheezed out a pained groan.
Along with an array of other families, we'd been invited to House Battagli this morning for a summer brunch. The Battaglis were Aunt Rosa's family. Though now she was married to Harding and lived on the Lyons estate that shared the sinister Hemmlok Forest with two other Houses.
The morning had been pleasant enough. While the parents were socializing, enjoying their brunch set up beneath large sun umbrellas spread out over the terrace hugging the mansion, we kids were running amok across the lawns, trampling through the bushy gardens, and playing tag out in the orchard. That's when shit went down between Rocco Battagli and the Wychthorn girls. We were supposed to be subservient to Great House Wychthorn, and we were, but sometimes for us kids, it didn't quite work the same respectful way as it did for the adults.
Here, kids ruled.
And sometimes the Wychthorn sisters were disrespected.
I had Rocco shoved up against the orchard's garden shed. Salty droplets ran down his splotchy-red cheeks. He was sporting nasty-looking purplish welts across his temple from where he'd been hit with a barrage of acorns. Nelle Wychthorn might be a princess from Great House but she was a hellion and fiercely protective of her older sisters. Earlier this morning, while she'd been sitting up in an oak tree, she'd witnessed Rocco purposely splash her older sisters with mud, calling them names and mocking them in front of his little gang of pimply-faced assholes. She scrambled along the branch she'd been perched upon and snatched up handfuls of acorns, yelling at him to 'Shut your ugly fucking mouth!'
"Shut yours, Smellie-Nellie!" he'd shouted back at her.
Concealed in the copse of trees on the outskirts of the Battaglis' garden, I'd leaned against a knotted tree and watched it all go down with a hand over my mouth to muffle my laughter. Gods, the asshole thought Smellie-Nellie was so fucking original and had his chest puffed out like a peacock, parading back and forth in front of his friends. I knew he was going to get it from Nelle. She was going to retaliate and give no quarter.
A second later, he'd squealed like a piglet in pain.
Nelle fired a slew of acorns like gunshots and cussed up a storm, loosening a volley of vulgar phrases that rivaled my father's.
Rocco ran away with his tail between his legs and tears welling in his eyes.
However, I knew after Nelle showed him up in front of his friends, Rocco would get her back despite her lofty position as a daughter of Great House. Assholes like him always did. And Nelle couldn't help herself either, she was a fucking firecracker of temper. This wasn't the first time I'd had to take one of my peers aside and teach them a lesson—leave the youngest Wychthorn princess alone.
