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shooting stars. Our mothers had tossed us outside for some fresh air after we had watched The Cutting Edge for the third time in a row.
    “I’m at star number ten, just like us!” Holly laughed and pointed as the star’s tail faded into dust.
    I wrinkled my nose. “I’ve only got four.”
    “Ivy?”
    “Uh-huh.” I was looking at the horizon, searching for the next star tail while picking up handfuls of sand and letting the silky smoothness of the grains filter through my fingers.
    “Let’s make a pact. You know? Just between us.”
    “A spell kind of pact?” I ignored the sky and turned to face Holly.
    “No, just you and me, no magic. Let’s promise to always stay together no matter what.” I wasn’t sure what movie Holly had seen this in, but it sounded like fun.
    “Ok, cool. How do we do it?” I had heard of pacts and handshakes and friendship necklaces, but I had never been a part of one. I wasn’t sure what Holly wanted me to do.
    “This is a simple one I saw.” Ok, so she did see this in a movie. “Let’s try this.” She turned to face me and pushed a sea oat to the side. The wind was kicking up, and the ocean roared over Holly’s small voice. She grabbed both of my hands, and we held them between us. “I promise to always be Ivy’s best friend and cousin, to go to the same college, to live next door to her, and to never leave her. Ever. Oh, and not let any boys mess us up. Now you say it.” She winked at me.
    “Ok, I promise to be Holly’s best friend and cousin, go to the same college, to live next door to her, and to never leave her. Ever. And not let any boys mess us up.” I winked back.
    We smiled at each other and started laughing.
    For the most part, we had fulfilled our summer pact. Holly was a film studies major, and I doubled in communications and history at the same university. We never lived together or lived next door to each other, but we did end up in the same town and at the same online advertising company, trying to climb the corporate ladder to somewhere.
    The long days at Regency Advertising were crammed with meetings, spreadsheets, and team building. After two years, I was one of those cliché people living for the weekend. The weekends became my escape from the dull workweek, and I scheduled them with trip upon trip. The more I traveled, the more I practiced how to go back and forth without so much as leaving an eyelash in the past. What I didn’t expect was that the Time Spell would open doors I didn’t know existed.
    Without a big debut or announcement to my family or friends, I started writing Masquerade on my tiny laptop late at night while Cooper slept by my feet. With you-know-who out of my life, I felt free to delve into something that was all about me. My weekends slowly transformed from travel days to writing days and the click, click, click of my computer keys was a regular part of my nights. Holly had asked me to send a marketing review to her over the weekend, and accidentally, I sent her the first five chapters of Masquerade . Little did I know, my greatest cheerleader was born. She wrote the first few query letters for me and hid the growing stack of rejection letters. I finally got on board, and started my own search for a publisher that would print and promote my stories. The day I got the call from Ann at Raven Publishing to set up my first meeting with Jack Coleman, my life changed in an irreversible instant.
    The smoky haze of the casino hung over the blackjack tables like a low-lying fog. I wanted to find a great story to take back to Jack. I surveyed tonight’s subjects. There were the band members huddled behind the stage on break. It looked like they were arguing over how much longer to play to the crowd. There was a bartender trying his best to get the attention of a pretty redhead at the end of the bar. I wasn’t sure how old you had to be to get into a casino in 1968, but I was certain this girl might not even be old enough to drive. I