TITLE: Always Read the Fae Print
GENRE: urban fantasy
Someone should have cut me off after the fourth Bacardi & Coke.
I sat on the side of the bed, whimpering at each bang on the canal-side window. So far, my first morning as a twenty-six-year-old kind of sucked: my head pounded like crazy, my throat felt parched, and more importantly, I definitely recognized the blurry room around me as Arjan's. Which meant houseboat. Which meant spinny room. Which meant, succinctly, ugh.
For the next semi-random one-night-stand, would a speck of foresight be too much to ask for?
And what caused that banging on the window, anyway? Hangover or not, it sounded way too loud to be a bird pecking at the glass.
I forced myself upright--holy crap, the wooden floor was cold--and hoped the room would stop moving soon. This hangover-houseboat combination was definitely not up for repeats. Never ever.
The alarm clock caught my eye: ten past ten. Oh, frick. Willem would kill me if I showed up late for work again.
I shuffled closer. Thick curtains obscured the morning light. Scrounging up courage, I pulled them aside a fraction of an inch. Still enough to make me flinch at the sunlight reflected on the Schinkel canal.
Yanking the curtains shut and diving back under the covers to snuggle up with Arjan sounded like an excellent plan. I resisted--less out of misplaced toughness than the urge to stare dumbly at the thing hitting the window. For all the weird things in my life, I hadn't expected this.