The infant clasped onto her mother’s pinky and the operating room turned into an intergalactic Picasso painting.
Caressing the tan, micro crescent moon mark, Violet said, “Lunnah. That’s what we’ll call her… Lu… nnah.”
Little Lunnah cooed, her grip unwavering.
Violet looked Lunnah in the eyes while whispering to her. “I love you to the moon and back, and back again. Don’t you ever forget that, darling.”
At 45,000 words, Lunnah is finished! But I use the word finished VERY lightly. Why? Because of that one word that starts with a ‘E’ and ends in a ‘G’… EDITING. I’m hoping to wrap all this editing business by Halloween, and then move forward to seeking out literary agents.
While I’m an author of multiple books, this is the first time I’m going the traditional publishing route. It’s a bit scary because I know quite a bit of rejection will be ahead of me until I get that one sought-after “yes.” But it’s beyond worth it and I’ll keep at it until I meet sweet success on the other side. 🙂
In the meantime, I’ll keep on sporadically posting some Lunnah excerpts. Also, I have a a handful of wonderful beta readers and book reviewers who are interested in both reading and reviewing this book (which puts a HUGE smile on my face)… If you are at all interested, feel free to reach out to me directly.
Thank you, fellow moon children, for your ongoing support. I 💖 each and every one of you! 🌙🌸
Her next stop was behind the shed, where she could make friends with the potato bugs and the occasional squirrel. While people her age talked about the latest gossip and what clothing store had the best sales, Lunnah would use the dirt as her canvas and a pointy stick as her paintbrush. The previous rain shower erased her latest creation, so she started something entirely new: A girl sailing along a river of stars on an upside down umbrella.
Sunri was so saturated in serenity that Lunnah wondered if she’d ever come out of it. She wished her mind could be a bamboo forest, but alas, the cliché of shiny things distracting the short-attention-spanned rang true for her. Or subtle noises like a distant honey bee. Or a stiff finger joint that was in dire need of a crack or two. And for some reason, itches in hard-to-reach places always made their appearance when body-mind-soul stillness beckoned.
“So, why Italia? It is beautiful here. I know, but any reasons that are personal for your travels?” Marcello asked.
Lunnah enjoyed the way he weaved words. They were in no way typical, but the diction was unique. “I don’t know. I just felt called, I guess.”
“Called?” Marcello asked. Both Marcello and Julia listened intently.
“It’s something my heart felt it needed to do for me to feel alive.” Lunnah twirled some rice pasta around her fork and kept it on the plate.
“Ah, yes… Passione!” Marcello said, putting a spoonful of risotto in his mouth.
“And I’m on the lookout from my tribe.”
“Tribe?” Julia asked.
“Friends. But not just any kind of friends—”
“Amico dell’anima,” Marcello said.
“Sounds beautiful. What does that mean?” Lunnah asked.
“Friends of the soul,” Julia said.
“Goodbye, my little moon beam,” Emma said, as Lunnah, against her own will, put starless outer space between them.
40,000-WORD MILESTONE REACHED! How awesome is that? 😀
Lunnah picked herself up, turned on the squeaky faucet, and splashed her face with cool water. The vanity mirror became a canvas, containing the portrait of a fragmented girl with puffy red eyes—puffier than the one time she had a severe allergic reaction to penicillin.
She wanted to die on that bathroom floor—preferably transmogrify into flecks of iridescent stardust and reintegrate back into some star cluster from whence she came.
More often than not, she was disappointed when she was still alive and kicking once her alarm declared the beginning of a new day.
But death would ensure she couldn’t exist in the same way she had been for years, for all of eternity. She wouldn’t get to see sunsets through the same set of eyes. Her hands wouldn’t draw the countless surrealscapes her mind concocted. Her bare soles wouldn’t feel the damp dirt and overgrown grass.
If the moon got sucked into a black hole…
1. The night would dive deeper.
2. The tides would be at a near-standstill.
3. Our planet’s rotation would destabilize.
…And maybe humans could survive, but the sun would have lost its companion, and so would Earth. Let’s face it, there would never be a moon quite like it, overlooking the majestic, life-luscious third rock from the sun.
Sunri stormed in Lunnah’s direction. “Why in Krishna’s name would you tell my fiancé about Aryan?”
Lunnah was used to hot coals in the flesh, but this… This was an overflowing volcano, on the cusp of recreating Pompeii’s ashen demise.
A banana piece fell off Lunnah’s toothpick. “I was just—”
“I was wrong. You are not childlike, you are childish. You had no business saying anything to him. You promised my secret would only stay between us. It won’t be long before he tells my family.”
Lunnah raised herself and her voice. “I couldn’t stand it.”
“But this is my life. Whether you agree with my decisions or not. Friends should be there to support you no matter what.”
“Friends don’t let their friends break their own hearts just to appease others.”
Life is infinitely more colorful when we have loved ones to share magical experiences with. Don’t you think? 🙂