Where It Begins – A Pucked Novella Read Online Helena Hunting

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Funny, Novella, Sports Tags Authors: Helena Hunting Advertisement

Advertisement

From New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Helena Hunting comes a story in her Pucked series. The untold story of Skye and Sidney, and the origin story where Vi and Miller are teens when their parents start dating and fall in love… I accidentally grabbed the wrong drink at the coffee shop. On the upside, the hot guy it belonged to chased me down to kindly swap with me. On the down side, the reason I grabbed the wrong drink in the first place is because the hot guy had just caught me checking out his ass…sets. In my defense, his rear view is rather magnificent. In true, humiliating form, I word-vomited a bunch of horrible nonsense. Including an unnecessary explanation of the trauma I’d evaded thanks to his chasing me down. Nothing could ruin my lactose-intolerant day faster than my one true dairy. I did not expect him to ask me out on a date after that. I also didn’t expect the date to go well since my tendency to truth-vomit is high, and not everyone finds that quality endearing. But apparently he does. Because he asks me out again.
And again. Sidney Butterson (yes, it’s a weird last name) ticks all my boxes.
He's smart, he's funny, he's employed and he's ridiculously hot.
There’s one catch. We’re both single parents. With teens. And if our kids don’t like each other?
Well, we’re doomed. **Every 1001 Dark Nights novella is a standalone story. For new readers, it’s an introduction to an author’s world. And for fans, it’s a bonus book in the author’s series. We hope you'll enjoy each one as much as we do.**

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

FOREWORD

ONE THOUSAND AND ONE DARK NIGHTS

Once upon a time, in the future…

I was a student fascinated with stories and learning.

I studied philosophy, poetry, history, the occult, and

the art and science of love and magic. I had a vast

library at my father’s home and collected thousands

of volumes of fantastic tales.

I learned all about ancient races and bygone

times. About myths and legends and dreams of all

people through the millennium. And the more I read

the stronger my imagination grew until I discovered

that I was able to travel into the stories... to actually

become part of them.

I wish I could say that I listened to my teacher

and respected my gift, as I ought to have. If I had, I

would not be telling you this tale now.

But I was foolhardy and confused, showing off

with bravery.

One afternoon, curious about the myth of the

Arabian Nights, I traveled back to ancient Persia to

see for myself if it was true that every day Shahryar

(Persian: شهريار, “king”) married a new virgin, and then

sent yesterday's wife to be beheaded. It was written

and I had read that by the time he met Scheherazade,

the vizier's daughter, he’d killed one thousand

women.

Something went wrong with my efforts. I arrived

in the midst of the story and somehow exchanged

places with Scheherazade – a phenomena that had

never occurred before and that still to this day, I

cannot explain.

Now I am trapped in that ancient past. I have

taken on Scheherazade’s life and the only way I can

protect myself and stay alive is to do what she did to

protect herself and stay alive.

Every night the King calls for me and listens as I spin tales.

And when the evening ends and dawn breaks, I stop at a

point that leaves him breathless and yearning for more.

And so the King spares my life for one more day, so that

he might hear the rest of my dark tale.

As soon as I finish a story... I begin a new

one... like the one that you, dear reader, have before

you now.

CHAPTER ONE

ACCIDENTAL MEETING

Skye

“Vi, if we don’t leave in five minutes you’ll have to walk to school!” I call down the narrow hallway.

Violet, my teen daughter, steps out of the bathroom with red eyes, shoulders slumped with defeat.

“Baby? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“I can’t get my right contact lens in to save my life.” She looks down at the finger crooked in a come-hither motion and squints. “Shitballs, I think I might have dropped it.” She flails her free hand in the air. “Great! Just great! Like I’m ever going to find it now.”

As a single mom of a teenage girl, I know that one tiny mishap has the potential to ruin an entire day. “Why don’t you just wear your glasses? They make your eyes pop.”

Violet sigh-groans. “Because I have a Mathletes competition this afternoon, and my plan is to not wear my glasses and also to open the top two buttons on my shirt.” She motions to her chest. “So I can throw the other team off with a boob distraction. The combination temporarily fools them into believing I’m unable to math. Also, John Kirkwood always calls me four eyes when I wear my glasses and he’s in two of my classes, so I would prefer to avoid the irritation today.”

“If he’s teasing you, it means he likes you,” I point out.

“If we were in middle school, that might ring true, but John is a jerk and a jock. He’s a jork. And the only thing he likes about me are these.” She pats her right boob.

Violet looks very much like me and not her dad. Which is good because her dad was a one-night stand that turned into the most beautiful surprise I didn’t know I needed in my life. Raising Violet on my own hasn’t always been easy, but my parents are supportive and I’m lucky to have a stable, well-paying job.

“He’s just jealous that you’re a smart, independent young woman who’s going places.”

“It’s more likely he’s just a jork who makes fun of people because he has a finger penis.”

“A finger penis?”

“Yeah.” She holds up her index finger. “A penis that’s more like a finger. That’s the rumor, anyway.”

“Men are fragile creatures with easily bruised egos,” I muse as I inspect Violet’s crooked finger. “Your contact lens is still on your finger. Want me to help you put it in?”

She sighs, but nods. “Can you? I wish I could be successful at putting them in over fifty percent of the time. If I didn’t have this Mathlete competition and it wasn’t our first time against this team, I would wear the glasses. But the last time we played a new team, I wore contacts and hinted at some cleavage, and two of their team members broke out in hives and another had to breathe into a paper bag.”

“Is it fair to use your boobs as a distraction tactic?” I motion her back into the bathroom.

Advertisement