Read Shades of Neverland for Free Online Page A

played by Peter…uh…Peter…um…Neverland—Peter Neverland, who will be making his stage debut.”
    Wendy’s eyebrows raised in surprise. Peter Neverland? She’d never heard of him. A quick glance at Maimie confirmed he was unknown to her as well.
    The curtain rose while Wendy leaned perilously forward, scanning the stage in annoyance. D’Artagnon was one of her favorite literary characters. She had been looking forward to Granville’s portrayal. The role would require skill and subtlety—no novice to the stage could do it justice. And besides…that is…and…
    Wendy’s train of thought abruptly derailed, for D’Artagnon had stepped from the very spot where her eyes had previously alighted. As he took center stage, everything else ceased to exist. For her, the world had become pitch black except for one shining spotlight causing the young man below to glow as if lit by the sun itself. He was not merely an actor but an angel—D’Artagnon incarnate!
    To say the actor was handsome was an understatement. He had not the delicate features of some pretty men. No. For lack of a better description, he was breathtaking!
    His thick chestnut hair had a slight curl with copper and golden highlights that shimmered under the stage lights. He had a straight, aristocratic nose and his square chin bore a delectable cleft. When he smiled, his generous mouth revealed white, straight teeth and deeply dimpled cheeks.
    His dazzling eyes were by far his most striking attribute. Deep emerald green, colored with flecks of gold and mahogany, they were terrible and sublime all at once. They seemed to search Wendy out in the darkness. Caught in their gaze, she felt transparent as he stared up at her with eyes so bright that they seemed to bore two holes to the Heavens.
    Although he was the height and size of a man, he had a discernable boyishness to him. It was the kind of combination, Wendy reflected, that made him appear older than his actual years but would, in later life, make him seem considerably younger. Coupled with his unrestrained zeal, his appearance made him glorious—god-like. Wendy could not take her eyes off him.
    For the next three hours, there was only Peter. The play, the actors, the words meant nothing to her. Every time he exited the stage, Wendy bit her lower lip in anguish. Without realizing she was doing so, she held her breath as long as she dared. Staring at the wing, she willed him to return so she could breathe again.
    The final act contained a thrilling swordfight. Peter was magnificent! He was so sure and brave that Wendy felt certain he was a swashbuckler in a previous life.
    As the curtain closed, the audience rose to its feet, as one, but Wendy could not move. Overcome with emotion, her whole body trembled with an unexpected force. She ached with the need to know Peter; longed to bare her soul to him—confide her every thought and fear—without restraint. She needed to consume every scrap of information Peter could give her and this need felt very close to madness.
    If she had been capable of rational thought, she would’ve had an epiphany as to why so many of Shakespeare’s plays ended in tragedy. For the line that separates true love from insanity thins to the point of transparency. But Wendy had no such insight.
    The unfortunate girl was undone.
    Eyes closed and shivering, she sat for the longest time in torment. Finally, with Maimie’s pleading and the insistence of the head of ushers, Wendy left the darkened theatre feeling more confused and alone than she had in her whole life. It seemed her entire existence began and ended in that single afternoon alongside the story of D’Artagnon…and the actor, Peter Neverland.
     

    It would seem improbable, impossible even, that two people who’d never spoken could form such an immediate and earth-shattering attachment at first sight. Very few have the aptitude to see it and even fewer the propensity to experience it. But you should understand, there are