The Many Writings of K. A. Jones

When they were younger Aidan and Eithne had hated each other. They were half siblings, sharing a mother, so they’d had to spend some time together, but however short that time was it was still too long. Eventually it got to the point where they did actually avoid each other, until the end of Kalinia came. Losing their other siblings, and their fathers, and then their mother, had made them realise that the hatred they had for each other was totally pointless. Of course it hadn’t been until their respective fathers had passed on, fathers who had flamed the bad feelings between the two of them, because they’d both lost the woman – she had gone on, sensibly, to handfast a man that she loved, that she had five children with, who had accepted both Aidan and Eithne without even seeming to think about it, because they hadn’t cared anywhere near as much about bloodlines.

Mirrored from K. A. Webb Writing.

Part 1

Mirrored from K. A. Webb Writing.

It was late, much later than I’d normally be walking home, but things had taken longer than I thought they would. After trying on what felt like hundreds of dresses, drinking a couple more glasses of wine than was usual for a Monday afternoon, and having a long chat with my helpers (my mum, my younger sister, and my best friend), time had flown by, and instead of heading home at four in the afternoon, which would have been quite late enough as the days got shorter, it was seven in the evening. While I was walking I was watching the sun set and hoping that I’d be home before too many vampires woke up.

Mirrored from K. A. Jones Writing.