Gnomes of Suburbia Read online

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  eXtasy eBooks

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  Copyright ©2009 by Viola Grace

  First published in Devine Destinies, 2009

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  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Nexus Chronicles: Gnomes of Suburbia

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Author's note

  About the Author

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  Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Nexus Chronicles: Gnomes of Suburbia

  Copyright © 2009 Viola Grace

  ISBN: 978-1-55487-258-9

  Cover art by Martine Jardin

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Devine Destinies

  An imprint of eXtasy Books

  Look for us online at:

  www.devinedestinies.com

  Nexus Chronicles: Gnomes of Suburbia

  By

  Viola Grace

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Dedication

  To Mortimer who watches my back yard and to Splitz, who guards my sleep. I love my gnomes. Silent guardians of our begonias.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter One

  Her hands shook as she pried open the letter and with a squeal of delight and ripped the documents from their enclosure. She flipped through the pages, detailing her sales and gaped at the final figure on the cheque.

  It was everything that she had ever wanted. Annabeth Hanover clutched at the precious document that would lead her to the next step in her life and let out another squeal that had the neighbours pounding the walls in irritation.

  "I have it! I actually have enough to buy my house.” Her giggles and happy dance took her through her tiny apartment and onto the balcony-fire escape. Who could have imagined that selling a book with photos of her own sculptures would be the means by which she got her freedom? Gnomes of Suburbia was that very book. A pictorial record based on the rather modern take of garden gnomes in an urban setting.

  It was not a best seller, but this third royalty cheque was now enough for her to put a down payment on the house that had haunted her dreams since she first set eyes on it.

  Number Thirteen Oak Point Way would be hers, provided that no one had purchased it in the three months since she first turned down the street and laid eyes upon it.

  The instant that she had stepped out of her clapped out station wagon and walked up the overgrown drive to meet the realtor, she had known a feeling like none before.

  She was finally home.

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  Annabeth Hanover hung up and then stared at the phone in her hands. Her super had just told her that if she could leave her apartment by the fifteenth that he would refund her complete deposit and an additional month's rent. The money would pay for three months of her mortgage at her new home. She would be a fool to miss out on it, wouldn't she?

  With a deeply felt sigh, she called her real estate agent and asked her about the possibility of her getting in earlier. “Miranda! Hi. How are you today?"

  "Fine, and how are you Annabeth? Getting ready for the big move?"

  "Yeah, about that. Is there anyway I can get into the house before the fifteenth? I mean when you showed it to me, it was ready for me to move in. So would it be possible?"

  Silence reigned on the other end of the line. “I had a call from the water department, they need to come in to change out the meters and investigate a leak so I am afraid that it won't be habitable for another few weeks. I am very sorry."

  "No, no problem. I will let my super know that I am staying until the thirty-first. Thanks for considering it."

  "No problem, this is why you should always call your real estate agent before doing anything rash.” Miranda's warm tone relaxed Abby as it always did. “No surprises this way."

  "Exactly. Well, have a great day and see you on the thirty-first. I can hardly wait. Bye.” Her mind was already whirling with possibilities. One kept floating to the surface and she repeatedly shoved it down. Finally, she was alone in the coffee shop with one other patron and still staring at her phone and running the options. When a latte arrived in front of her and Tina nodded to the guy in the back of the shop reading the paper, she sighed, then smiled. “Tell him thank you, he may have just saved my life."

  "Yeah you had that look about you. He's a nice guy. No strings attached.” Tina shifted off and she was left with a steaming cup of coffee and the same problem that she had had since speaking to Miranda. Abby needed to get out of her apartment early, and God help her, there was only one way. With a shaking hand, she punched in the number and took a long draught of her latte. She winced as the end of the line was picked up. “Hi, Mom? Do you still have an empty garage?"

  While she listened to her mother agree to the use of her property, Abby's gaze wandered over to the man who had sent her the latte. When he dropped the paper enough
for her to meet his eyes, she sighed in disappointment. Sure he was gorgeous, but he was brunette and brunettes creeped her out, that dark hair and those dark eyes hiding something. The instant that she thought it, he looked up at her, startled. In a flash that left her rubbing her eyes, he vanished.

  Seriously, he just disappeared. His paper was crumpled and his coffee still steaming, but he was gone. Just like magic.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Two

  It had been two weeks at her mother's before the woman finally snapped. “How did you manage to fit all of this stuff in your tiny apartment?” Betsy Hanover had as much contempt for her daughter's collection as she did for bits of foil trash on the street. They were pretty and shiny, but she wanted them away from her pristine home. Abby just sighed.

  "It's a talent for collection, Mom. I came by it honestly.” She simply shrugged and went back inside the house, leaving her mother to take a mental inventory of her pile of stuff. Abby was going to get some breakfast.

  Her mother's house was pristine and clean, and cluttered with about five thousand pieces of china from a variety of eye bleeding patterns. Despite the clutter, there was not a speck of dust to be seen, Elizabeth Hanover pursued it as her arch enemy.

  This was the main reason that she disdained her daughter's dirty hobbies. The fact that sculpting often used real dirt distressed her to no end. Abby simply shrugged it off and kept up her hobbies.

  She fixed herself some eggs and toast, settling to read the daily paper. She skimmed over the movie releases, the book releases, got a chuckle out of the personal ads and then moved on to serious stuff. Local crime caught her eye when she saw an eerily familiar room photographed on the page in front of her.

  Her old apartment had been ransacked.

  The picture showed the new couple's boxes slashed in what the paper was calling one of the worst acts of vandalism they had ever seen. The new couple was quoted as being shocked beyond belief that their property had been destroyed within weeks of their moving in.

  Especially brutal was the destruction of the new bride's collection of dolls and stuffed animals. Not one had been left intact. Abby winced as she imagined the amount of stuffing strewn about the apartment. Her heart went out to the new occupants.

  "Hey, Mom! Did you see this?"

  Betsy bustled into the kitchen, sweeping away the minute crumbs of Abby's breakfast with a frightening attention to detail. “What, a new toy?"

  "No. My old apartment was broken into. They trashed everything that the new couple had. Even the stuffed animals.” She shivered as she spoke. Someone was walking over her grave. If she had moved out even two weeks later, those would have been her belongings being trashed. Her precious gnomes would have been at the mercy of the vandal and she wouldn't even have had a chance to show them their new home.

  "Too bad it wasn't your stuff. You could have claimed on your insurance and replaced everything.” She gave the paper a cursory glance. “It would have been like a home makeover show."

  "Are you saying that having a violent stranger trash all of my critters would have been a good thing?” Outrage filled her voice, she could hear it.

  "Don't raise your voice to me while you are in my home.” Her mother played the victim well. “After I opened my home to you in your hour of need."

  "For a tidy profit, Mom. You are charging me to be here, remember?"

  Her mother looked shocked. “Only in some of your crafts for Christmas presents."

  "My time and effort aren't valuable? The list of stuff you gave me could earn me close to three thousand, Mom. They aren't just crafts to collectors."

  Betsy sniffed in disdain. “Whatever. You still owe me.” She cruised from the room under full sail, as regal in her demands as any queen.

  Alone again, Abby muttered to herself, “Fine. But I am leaving my fingerprints on everything.” That tiny bit of rebellion would make her feel smug.

  Ah well, she only had one more night in this place and then she was off to her new adventure. And she could leave her crumbs wherever she wanted.

  It was a damned shame about the new tenants of her apartment though. They had seemed like a nice couple. She hoped they had insurance.

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  Her room hadn't really changed much. It was still far too neat, all blue chintz and white oak. Betsy hadn't wanted to encourage her creative daughter any more than necessary. Her room had been kept sparse and utilitarian at all times. The only decorative thing that she had owned was her big book. Abby had found it in the woods and had kept it close to her ever since. It soothed her like nothing else and here it was waiting for her on the desk. Her one steady friend. She surveyed her room and came to the inescapable conclusion that nothing had changed. The window overlooked a spacious backyard and it was sparse but well kept, only one garden shed at the back of the property.

  Abby had taken over one of the backyard sheds that used to be there and made it her own. She could see the spot where it had squatted when she looked through the window. Her mother had wasted no time in removing it from the premises the instant that her daughter had moved out. That was sixteen years ago.

  Abby had learned a few things since then. Her crafting wasn't a nasty habit, it was a compulsion. She had to make the things that she did, in the manner that she did, or go slowly nuts. It wasn't a hard choice.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Three

  In times of stress, it is completely natural for someone to think of quotes of nostalgic wisdom. This was just such a time.

  "A true friend will help you move.” Abby muttered under her breath as she took a load from the moving van to the porch. The movers were doing their part with the larger items, but to empty the truck in under an hour would save her a hundred bucks. So she moved her own limbs as rapidly as possible with every cardboard burden she took up. The pickup from her mother's home had gone smoothly, if under nagging that was still ringing in her ears. Still, she had moved her stuff out in two weeks and kept up her end of the bargain. No boys, no drinking and no crafting in the pristine showplace that was her mother's home.

  When she stumbled and almost dropped her box of moulds and casting materials, her breath caught in her chest as the box righted itself and proceeded into the pile under its own steam. “What the hell?” She blinked furiously, but the levitation continued until the box was safely settled.

  Abby looked around for some explanation, but her movers were still on their lackadaisical route to and from their truck. They hadn't seen anything.

  She checked her watch and swore under her breath. She had five minutes to finish getting the boxes out of the van or she would have to give up her hard-earned cash.

  A strange energy filled her arms and legs, she ran back to the truck and began to hoist and drop the boxes into a pile next to the loading ramp.

  The cargo area had been half-full, but as her body made the shuttle too and from the edge, she had it cleared in no time. If some boxes seemed to shift themselves, she was sure that it was just a trick of the light, and her hard work. Gasping and glowing ever so femininely in the bright light of the afternoon, she greeted her slack-jawed movers with a tired smile. “Its done boys. You can go now."

  "But half the truck...” Bill trailed off as he saw the echoingly empty interior. His voice reverberated in the hollow space. Nothing was left except the moving blankets off her dining room table and a few straps that had secured everything while in motion.

  She took a limp and sad looking wad of money out of her pocket, sweat ran through denim so easily. “So that was one hundred for the first hour and fifty for the delivery."

  They looked like they wanted to scratch their heads and their butts at the same time, just to cover both points of thought. “Uh, yeah. But did some of your friends come to help?"

  "Nope. I am just a motivated mover.” She smiled and waggled the folded bills at him. “Here you go."

  "Thanks, ma'am. It was a pleasure, and any time
you need movers don't hesitate to call us.” Bill and Randal tucked in the ramp and closed up the back of the cargo area. With a grunting roar and the belch of diesel, they took their shuddering conveyance and disappeared into the green-canopied pathway that was Oak Point Way.

  With the movers gone there was just one thing to do, meet the grass, up close and personal. She collapsed onto her front yard. The grass prickled at her skin and she idly watched a ladybug make its rounds on her thigh as she fought for breath. What the hell had just happened? There was no way that she had shifted all those boxes by herself, and yet, she had. There was no other explanation. At least none that her over heated mind would consider.

  As she lay on her back and contemplated the lovely pattern of the leaves occasionally flirting with the sun on the massive oaks in her yard, a shadow crossed her line of site. Huh, the shadow had hands. They gripped her own firmly.

  "Hello. You must be Annabeth. Up you go.” She was lifted to her feet with a sharp tug and found herself facing the most extraordinary creature she had ever seen. Her head spun and she grasped the woman firmly to keep her balance as the blood rushed back to its proper disposition.

  If she wasn't a sceptical person, she would swear that the woman was green. Just a light hint of aqua in her features and a pine tint to her chestnut hair. “Uh, hello. Who are you?” She was quite striking, but she had a stillness to her that Abby found slightly unnerving.

  "I am your next door neighbour, Laura. Laura Exner. Feel free to come by and use the pool anytime. Or the hot tub for that matter.” Her bright smile invited Abby to smile back and she did so out of reflex, only then realizing that the thought of a hot tub was causing the facial response. She was a little sore from the move. In fact, living in her front yard until her muscles healed was a fantastic idea. Mmm. No more lifting.

  "That's very generous offer for a woman you don't even know.” She was a little dizzy from being pulled to her feet and she squinted up at her new neighbour with suspicion. Her own five foot six came up rather short with Laura.