Summer On The Bluffs Novels & Stories

Summer Margins Six months later, the bite of the winter solstice had completely vanished, replaced by the heavy, golden warmth of a Pacific summer. The slate glass and frost of the rugged coastline were gone, swapped for deep blue water that rippled gently under a brilliant June sun. Down at the Oakhaven Cove marina, the air was thick with the scent of wild sea roses, sun-baked cedar docks, and roasted coffee beans.

Summer was a time where the days were long and sunny with fields of wildflowers. The valley was alive and happy again. Thomas helped Stephen in the vineyard every morning, Elena filled the house with flowers and pictures of birds she found by the river. Julian was not afraid of anything and loved to climb trees and chase chickens, Hannah was always worried that Julian would get hurt.

We all watched the kids play and dance around the camping fire after we decided to hang out on the beach shore to admire the full silver moon in the clear night sky. The wind was a little harsh as it blew against my bare skin, cold but tolerable. Summer was coming, and perhaps that is why Caden chose to rent this place for the kids to enjoy. “I’m sorry if I didn’t say goodbye to you.” I deeply apologized to Madz.

"I just don't think I'm beautiful," The tone in Sloane's voice was flat and unamusing, sitting on the wooden chair by the dresser, her eyes fixed on the wide mirror framed in white that hung in Laura's cabin room. The summer air was thick and sweet, curling the ends of her hair and clinging to her skin with a lazy warmth. Pine and damp earth drifted through the open window, mingling with the faint echo of laughter outside. It was mid-July in the Northwarn Hills, a pocket of dense green woods about forty minutes from campus.

“You have beautiful eyes.” Meeting his concerned gaze, I came back to my senses, snatched up my shattered glasses, and fled in panic. However, that day, the sound of cicadas buzzing in the trees beside the school field lingered in my ears for a very, very long time.

Chapter 162: Free That evening, Blake and Shasta enjoyed the sunset over the deep blue Pacific, watching silently as the blue sky faded into deep oranges, pinks, and purples. Leaning against the railing of the deck, Shasta sipped her glass of sauvignon blanc and rested her head on Blake's shoulder. "It's beautiful here," he noted. "Mm-hmm," she agreed. "But they're down there, you know." He frowned. "Who is down there?"

Chapter 52: The Northern Gate The summer downpour had stopped by dawn and a pale mist covered the Buffalo terminal. The mist came from Lake Erie. Avery stood at the edge of the concrete loading platform. The morning air was damp and cold. It cut through her grease-stained flannel shirt. Her heavy denim overalls were still damp at the cuffs.. She stood strong watching the heavy iron gates of the facility swing open.

​Three Months Later. The Vance Estate, Long Island, New York. ​The zenith of midsummer poured blinding rays of gold across the Long Island coastline. Off the edge of the estate bluffs, the Atlantic was a sheet of rippling sapphire, its deep tide crashing against the black rock shelf below with a steady, ancient thrum. Warm wind blew through the cliffside gardens, thick with the scent of pine needle and saltwater.

CALLA This summer felt like a movie. Sun on my skin, water in my hair. Late night swims in the lake behind the summer house while our parents drank wine on the deck, and Miles cannon balled into the water drenching me completely. I splashed back at him, laughing, but his grin was infuriating. He moves like he is always on the ice, fast, deliberate, and impossible to catch off guard. We have done summers together since kindergarten. Our families vacation every year like it’s tradition. Same place, same inside jokes, same two families tangled together as if fate had it planned. But this year was different. Miles looked at me differently after what felt like forever.

Eighteen Months Later (Mountbatten, Summer of 1862) ~Penny~ A tear escaped my eye as I gazed at the bright blue skies stretching above the moorland. The wild open space of the moorland opened up to a meandering river. Walking down the gentle slope of the well-worn path to the gushing water, I settled onto the bank. The low resonant hum of the water currents did little to calm my mind. Laying against the comforting heat of a sun-warmed stone, I fondly placed my hand on my stomach, trying to fight the tight knot in my throat as tears pricked at my eyes.