Snow Pixie – Chapter 1

As promised each Friday leading up to the release I will be posting a chapter of Snow Pixie. No part of this post or blog may be reproduced without written consent from Author Isabelle Saint-Michael or Elven Life Productions President M. Kat Thomas.

Chapter One


The first sound I could hear was the beating of my heart. That wouldn’t have been so alarming if I had heard my heart beat anytime in the last sixty years. My heart didn’t beat. It couldn’t. That would imply that I had a heart to begin with.

The first sense I experienced when I awoke was always the same – smell. The scent of winter was distinct but very faint as the first of its familiar chills ran down my back. Then, like the winds of a hurricane, the icy blast hit me full force, causing me to suck in a breath at the shock of it. Balling my hands into fists, I cautiously opened one eye and then the other. Another gust hit me and made my silvery white hair dance around my face.

The sparkle of a sequin caught my eye and I looked down with a groan. “How could I have forgotten what I was wearing last?” I chastised myself.

“Excuse me miss, are you all right?” asked a concerned voice from behind me.

Whirling around on my heel I came face to face with an older gentleman dressed in a long brown coat. His hat was pulled low, covering the tops of his ears. The brim shadowed his eyes and the red scarf around his neck did its best to protect his lower face from the brutal wind.

Taking a deep breath, I plastered on my biggest smile and met his gaze. “Yes sir, just fine. I just needed a moment to collect myself.”

The man shifted his gaze left then right as if he were nervous. “I’m glad to hear that. Now, give me your wallet and cell phone,” he said, removing a pistol from the folds of his jacket.

“Why would I do that? And what is a cell phone?” I queried as I cocked my head at the gun pointing at me.

“Listen Miss, I don’t want to hurt you, so just hand over your wallet and phone and I’ll get out of here,” he told me again. He looked entirely too shaky for me to be comfortable with the gun in his hand.

“Sir, I’m not sure who you think I am, but I don’t have a wallet on me, or a cell phone?” I tried to assure him. As if to explain, I swept my eyes down towards my clothing. I was standing at the edge of a river wearing a glittering white skating dress. “Quite frankly, I’m not sure where I would keep it,” I said flatly.

His eyes shifted to my chest and he waved the pistol in the direction of my breasts. “You could have them tucked in there.”

“Of all the nerve!” I snapped, my temper flaring.

“Freeze, Chicago PD!” boomed an authoritative voice. We both turned to stare as two uniformed police officers moved closer with their guns drawn. “Let the lady go,” called the closest officer.

My assailant lowered his gun. I wasted no time standing around to be questioned. Without a word I began walking up the path the officers had come from, refusing to make eye contact with either of them. When I reached the top of the small embankment I forced myself into a run.

Rushing through the busy streets, I just barely noticed the peculiar style of dress people were wearing. I ducked around a corner and quickly flew down a set of stone steps. I would have been fine if not for a patch of ice at the bottom.

How embarrassing, I thought to myself as I twisted in the air and watched my bare feet suddenly appear overhead. “Oh frostbite!” I swore, connecting hard with the ground below and getting the breath knocked out of me.

The sound of running feet I hadn’t heard before now slowed, and before I could right myself, a strong arm slid under my shoulders and helped me sit up. “That was quite the fall. Are you all right?” asked a voice that was velvety and kind.

I turned my head to let the owner of the voice know I was unharmed only to find myself speechless. Staring back at me were two dark eyes the color of chocolate, framed beneath black, perfect brows. It took me a moment to notice the accompanying uniform and hat. This must have been one of the police officers from earlier. Shaking my head, I was forced to blink a few times to remember how to speak. “Yes, I’m all right. I think I’m just shaken up.”

“I figured as much when you took off from the crime scene. You really shouldn’t leave until an officer has had a chance to speak with you,” he explained, his eyes still running over me with concern. When they came to my bare feet his brows furrowed. “Where are your shoes?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

Taking the hand he held out in offering, I pulled back, startled, when I felt my pulse race at his touch.  Stamping down the surprise I gripped his hand again, this time ignoring the sound of my pounding heart in my ears. As I was pulled to my feet and began to look around, I felt my stomach flip, and my vision went blurry. I gripped the officer’s hand tighter and threw my other arm around his neck. I heard him calling to me as my head swam and the world became darker and darker around me.

Just before I lost all consciousness I realized something. I felt different. I felt different in a way I had almost forgotten existed. I felt warm.


About isabellestmike

Author, Figure Skater, Coffee Addict and Power Shopper We choose the role we will play in our own stories. Somedays I am the heroine and others I am the villain but I am ALWAYS the comic relief.

Posted on 11/11/2016, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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