![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
It was a golden autumn morning in Briny Cove, Maine, and the trees around the little storefront bookshop were an explosion of oranges and yellows and reds. The salt-tinged wind was tangling itself relentlessly in Arabella Thorne's wild black curls, lifting them and tossing them about so they swept across her round, lightly freckled pixie face. She lifted one hand and brushed the mop of ringlets away from her elfin features, blinking a pair of large, sea-gray eyes against the whirling breeze.
( Read more... )