Shadows at Sunset: Sunset Trilogy ~ Book 1 Read online

  She never thought her ability to communicate with wild animals was anything more than a unique gift. But this gift is tied to a long history of secrets that threaten to shatter her one chance at true love...

  Laken Sumner isn’t your average teenager. Ever since she realized that wild animals could hear her thoughts, she’s spent more time in the woods with them than with other children. Even her wolf is a better friend to her than most people. She trusts him--so much so that she follows him out into the wilderness in the middle of the night to find a lost little boy. But the boy’s disappearance is only the beginning.

  The one bright spot in her life is Noah Lawson, the handsome new town deputy. Charming and mature, he almost seems too good to be true. Then she meets Xander Payne, the new boy at school, who seems to know something about her. But how could that be possible?

  As strange things begin to happen in her sleepy New England town, Laken wonders if Xander has something to do with it. Or is it just a coincidence that danger targets her soon after he arrives?

  ~

  Twenty-five cents for every print and ebook copy sold will be donated to the Ian Somerhalder Foundation.

  KUDOS FOR SHADOWS AT SUNSET

  In Shadows at Sunset by Tonya Royston, Laken Sumner is a high school senior who talks to animals. They trust and protect her and she spends more time with them than she does with her human friends. Laken falls for Noah, the new deputy in her small New England town. But when a new boy moves into town and starts at the local high school, trouble begins following Laken everywhere. Royston does a good job of character development, both for her human and animal characters. This is a coming of age story with a twist--one both YA and NA should love. ~ Taylor Jones, Reviewer

  Shadows at Sunset is a paranormal coming of age story about a young woman who can talk to animals. She lives in a sleepy New Hampshire village in the mountains and, until a new boy moves into the neighborhood, Laken’s town feels safe and secure. But with the arrival of Xander Payne, things begin to change. Now little boys disappear from their backyards, bodies are found in the woods, and someone seems to be stalking Laken. Shadows at Sunset is well written and portrays the problems that come with not only growing up and turning from a child into a woman, but also suddenly finding yourself in danger. It’s a well-written story of courage and innocence--one that anyone who loves animals or who has ever been a teenager should thoroughly enjoy. ~ Regan Murphy, Reviewer

  Shadows at Sunset

  Book 1 in the Sunset Trilogy

  Tonya Royston

  A Black Opal Books Publication

  Copyright © 2015 by Tonya Royston

  Cover Design by Jennifer Gibson

  All cover art copyright © 2015

  All Rights Reserved

  EBOOK ISBN: 978-1-626943-16-2

  EXCERPT

  Only a few weeks ago, my town had felt so safe. No one even locked their doors, until now...

  “Dakota!” I called as I scrambled to my feet. I stood right where I was, watching and listening, but only silence and darkness loomed.

  The back door opened, and I spun around as Noah approached with my gray fleece in his hands, his denim jacket already covering his maroon shirt. “Sorry that took so long. I made a quick visit to your bathroom.” He abruptly stopped half-way across the patio when he noticed the fear on my face. Concern swept across his eyes. “Where’s Dakota? What happened? I was only gone for a minute.”

  “There.” I turned around and raised my arm to point at the woods. “I saw something, no, I mean someone. Someone was out there.”

  I didn’t hear Noah approach, but I felt him behind me when he stopped. “What are you talking about?”

  “I saw a shadow, and it wasn’t a moose or a deer or a bear. It was human,” I told him, my eyes glued to the dark, sinister woods.

  A loud snarl pierced the silence. Another one ripped at it, and the image of the golden-eyed wolf sinking its teeth into Dakota flashed through my mind. The snarls and growls of what could only be two wolves out for each other’s blood grew louder in the distance. They continued for a minute, and then a sharp, pain-filled yelp cut through the air like a knife, followed by an eerie silence.

  “Dakota!” I screamed, my heart racing with panic. I took off, running for the woods. I had to find him, no matter how far I had to go.

  DEDICATION

  For Macie McDonald

  Never give up. Never stop dreaming.

  Prologue

  Six-year-old Laken Sumner climbed up her backyard swing set ladder until she reached the top of the slide. Her wispy blonde hair hung in a tangled mess behind her shoulders and her green eyes reflected the clear blue sky. She was alone, except for a squirrel that scampered across a branch in the woods surrounding the yard. Within seconds, the squirrel disappeared, the leaves swaying in its wake. The air was warm, not hot or humid, typical for northern New England in July.

  Laken hummed as she pushed herself down the slide, lifting her legs so that they wouldn’t stick to the yellow plastic. At the bottom, she jumped to her feet and ran around to the swings hanging behind the slide. She settled onto the supple rubber seat, grabbed a hold of the chains, and pumped with her feet. A brilliant smile was plastered on her face as she soared high into the air. The only sounds were that of the creaking chains as she rocked back and forth and a breeze whispering through the leaves overhead.

  After a few minutes, Laken grew bored and let herself slow. Just before the swing stopped, she launched into the air, bending her knees as she landed. Then she ran across the yard to her mother’s garden. The red roses climbing up the white trellis never failed to distract Laken from her swing set, if only for a moment. As she admired them, breathing in their familiar sweet scent, she noticed a shadow moving through the dense trees out of the corner of her eye. A twig snapped and leaves rustled from somewhere within the woods.

  Laken stood still, staring in the direction of the movement and shuffling leaves. She wasn’t scared, just curious. She knew it was an animal. The forest behind her house extended for miles into the mountains of New Hampshire. Deer, moose, and even black bears were a common sight from her bedroom window.

  She didn’t have to wonder what it was for long. A spotted fawn emerged from the cover of the trees, stepping cautiously into the yard. Its nervous eyes darted in each direction until they settled on Laken. Then, suddenly, the apprehension in the fawn’s expression disappeared. As if feeling safe, it dove its muzzle into the lush grass and started grazing.

  Laken watched the fawn for a few moments, surprised by how comfortable it seemed in her presence. She remained still, not wanting to scare it. As she waited, the fawn moved closer to her without raising its nose from the ground.

  Laken had seen countless deer in her life, but never had she been so close to one. She took a step toward the fawn, and it jerked its head up.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” Laken said softly. “I just wanted to say hi.”

  The fawn stared at her, its body frozen for a few seconds. Finally, it took a breath. A trusting look came into its eyes. The fawn began walking toward Laken and only stopped when it was close enough to nuzzle her hands with its black nose.

  Laken giggled, a big smile crossing her face. “Can you understand me?”

  The fawn glanced at her, its eyes relaxed and calm. It nudged her hands again.

  “You can understand me. You know I won’t hurt you.” Laken slowly raised her hand to pet the fawn’s soft neck. Her eyes widened in amazement. She couldn’t believe that it trusted her enough to let her touch it.

  Her awe was cut short as a doe appeared at the edge of the yard. It trotted over to the f
awn, its wild eyes and stubby upright tail telling Laken right away that it wasn’t comfortable with the close contact between her and its baby.

  Laken froze in fear at the sight of the larger animal rushing toward her. She remained silent, but thought, ‘I won’t hurt your baby. We just want to be friends.’

  The doe stopped beside the fawn, the worry in its eyes disappearing as if it suddenly approved. Laken resumed stroking the fawn, her eyes never leaving the doe in case it changed its mind and charged at her. Instead, the doe stretched down to nibble the grass as if Laken wasn’t standing there.

  The silence was broken when the back door to the house abruptly slammed shut. The doe and fawn jerked their heads up in alarm. Before Laken could calm them, they ran back into the woods on their spindly legs. Within seconds, their shadows disappeared and the leaves and underbrush that rustled from their movements could no longer be heard.

  Laken’s mother rushed across the yard, her brown eyes distraught with fear. “Laken! What in the world were you doing with those animals?”

  “Mommy! Did you see that? They weren’t afraid of me. They understood me.”

  “Laken, don’t be silly. The deer can’t understand you. And you should never get that close to wild animals. It’s dangerous.”

  At that moment, Laken realized how alarmed her mother was. Laken’s delight faded into regret. Regret that her mother had seen her, not regret that she had touched the deer. “I’m sorry, Mommy.”

  “Laken, wild animals are very dangerous. They could hurt you, even a baby deer. It could bite you or kick you.” Her mother’s voice was calmer now, but still deeply concerned. “I need you to promise me that you’ll never get that close to a wild animal again. Can you promise me that?”

  Laken caught her mother’s imploring stare. For a moment, she wondered how to respond so that she wouldn’t have to lie. She studied the ground while she snaked her right arm behind her back and crossed her fingers.

  Then, as a twinge of guilt poked at her, she uncrossed her fingers and lifted her gaze to meet her mother’s eyes once again.

  “I promise,” she said, silently adding, Unless they want me to.

  Chapter 1

  Not much had changed since I was six years old. I still lived with my parents in the same white farmhouse on the outskirts of a small northern New Hampshire ski town. My father was still a local police officer, although he was promoted to sheriff a few years ago. My mother still taught fifth grade at the local elementary school. I still spent as much time outside as possible, even in the dead of winter, wandering for hours through the mountains bordering our backyard. And I still talked to wild animals.

  A few things had changed, naturally. Ever since I realized I could talk to animals, I thought I would never have a human friend. The animals became my friends. I could tell them anything and they listened endlessly. Even though they couldn’t speak, the look in their eyes told me they understood.

  It started with deer and, by the time I was nine, my circle of friends included black bears, moose, all kinds of birds--from woodpeckers and cardinals to hawks and owls--foxes, squirrels, and sometimes even snakes and turtles. I could feed songbirds and squirrels out of my hands. Hawks and owls often swooped in close to me, and the black bears loved a good scratch between the ears.

  I never felt comfortable with the other children at school. I knew I was different. I wanted to fit in, to be more like everyone else, but I knew that would never happen. The animals accepted me unconditionally, something I knew the other children would never do. For years, I kept to myself, counting the minutes each day until I could return home and escape into the wilderness to enjoy the silent company of a bear, moose, or any other animal that happened to cross my path. Except for a dog or cat. My talents had never worked on domestic animals. I never knew why it worked on some animals and not others. But I had to admit, the wild animals were much more intriguing and fun. They made me feel special since no one had a bear or a moose for a pet.

  When I was ten, a family from Boston moved into the house on the other side of the woods next door. Their son, Ethan, was my age and we immediately struck up a friendship. I often wondered if we would have become such good friends had it not been for the fact that he lived next door. But he accepted me, never asking why I didn’t have any other friends or why I disappeared into the woods for hours at a time. He was just there when I needed someone who could talk to me.

  We spent our summers in the treehouse his father had built in his backyard. Ethan read his endless pile of comic books while I watched the birds.

  They often landed on the ledge, studying us as if wondering why two humans would spend almost as much time in the trees as they did. They weren’t afraid of us, either, because of me, of course. I never forgot the day a red-headed woodpecker landed on my shoulder. Ethan’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor, but he didn’t ask a single question when it took off a moment later.

  My parents seemed relieved that I finally had a friend. Until that year, I had spent most of my time away from school alone, at least that’s what they thought. But I was never truly alone. I was always surrounded by my furry and feathered friends.

  In my freshman year, Brooke Carson moved to town. Quirky, spunky, and free-spirited, Brooke was as extroverted as I was introverted. We weren’t instant friends like Ethan and I had been. She actually met him first, and he brought the three of us together. Before I got to know her, I was as distant and withdrawn as I was with other classmates. But she quickly put me at ease, never once judging me for being a loner. Throughout high school, we were as different as two girls could be. I took up wildlife photography--a hobby that pushed me farther and farther away from people. She pursued her love of dancing and joined the drill team. Despite our differences, our friendship flourished. She was like the sister I never had. She challenged me to step outside my comfort zone, forcing me out to an occasional party or dance. She made me feel like I could fit in, and for that, I was grateful.

  My only other friend was given to me when I was twelve. My uncle who served as the Boston Chief of Police discovered a wolf pup about three months old chained up in a drug dealer’s backyard. He seized the pup when no one was looking and brought him to us. My parents were skeptical at first. I remembered my father asking his brother how he thought we could possibly take care of a wolf. A wolf was entirely different than a dog. A wolf had wild instincts, not to mention that owning one required a permit that we didn’t have the money for. But I begged, promising that I could handle it. I was never sure how I did it, but I convinced my parents to let me keep him.

  I named him Dakota, and I raised him on my own. He grew up fast, weighing over one hundred pounds by the end of the first year. His fur was smoky black and his eyes bright amber, the color of honey. He had a few white markings--a heart on his chest and a few spots on his paws. Like other wild animals, he understood me. I never used a leash on him, and he came and went as he pleased, often striking out into the mountains for days. But he always made his way home safely. He avoided people, never once hurting anyone. It was a good thing, too, since we had never gotten that permit.

  As the town sheriff, my father couldn’t let anyone know that his daughter kept a wolf as a pet. Although truthfully, I didn’t keep him as a pet. Dakota lived wild and free except for an occasional nap on the bed tucked into the corner of my room. Over the years, as Ethan and Brooke spent more time at my house, I couldn’t hide him from them. They thought it was really cool that their loner friend had a wolf and they promised to never tell a soul. They knew he meant the world to me.

  Dakota never left my side when I ventured into the woods. Sometimes I took my camera to take pictures of the animals I had come to know, and other days I escaped with a book. This mid-August afternoon was no different. I sat upon a large rock shaded by maple trees, a novel in my hand as Dakota lay by my feet. This was one of my favorite spots because I could hear the stream trickling a few feet away. A moose ambled by, nibbling at branches on its
way to the water. Shadows danced around me as clouds darted in front of the sun directly overhead in the bright blue sky.

  I loved living in the White Mountains. Summers were mild and pleasant, definitely worth enduring the bitter cold winters. Unfortunately, the summers always flew by way too fast. This summer had gone by even faster than the last few. Now that I had my driver’s license, I also had a job at a local pizza shop. So my free time to read and capture wildlife on camera was limited to my days off, like today.

  I glanced at my watch. Four o’clock. I had two more hours before I needed to head home. Ethan was coming over for pizza and a movie at six-thirty. Brooke said she might come over too, if she could use the car she shared with her sister. Since school was only a few weeks away, we were trying to hang out together in the evenings we had left.

  I turned my attention back to my book, a novel about fallen angels. Ever since paranormal stories had become the rage, I couldn’t get enough of them. They made me feel better about my unique gift. I could certainly relate to characters who were different and didn’t fit in.

  As I turned another page, a black-capped chickadee landed on my shoulder. I smiled at the tickle of its feet, losing my place in the book. I lifted a hand, and it hopped onto my fingers. Holding it in front of me, I studied its beady eyes as it tilted its head, watching me. Then, without warning, it fluttered its wings and flew up into the trees. With a sigh, I looked back down at my book, wanting to finish a few more chapters before I needed to head home.