The Wild WaysBook - 2011
Alysha Gale's cousin Charlotte is a Wild Power, who allies herself with a family of Selkies in a fight against offshore oil drilling. The oil company has hired another of the Gale family's Wild Powers, the fearsome Auntie Catherine, to steal the Selkies' sealskins. To defeat her, Charlotte will have to learn what born to be Wild really means in the Gale family...
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“At some point, you had an epiphany.” “With great power comes great responsibility, a responsibility someone decided generations ago that not everyone in the family can be trusted with. You, Charlette Gale, are a free electron, able to affect what you will. A warm body between this world and all the metaphysical shit that comes down the pike.”
"You think love hurts? Try having your ribs crushed by a Troll."
Her phone rang. "Charlette Marie Gale!" Auntie Jane said... from an unanswered phone. "A little less smart-ass and a little more focus. I will not have you killed in such an embarrassing manner."
"Can you lift an amp Cousin Jack?"
"Anything else I should know about him? You said his parents were dead?" "Father's dead, mother's not around. He's strong-minded, independent, easy to feed, and . . . . picks his nose with his tail-tip when he thinks no one's looking." Jack flushed.
Fortunately, in the last fourteen months of intermittent touring, they’d become old hands at covering the less well traveled parts of the western provinces and had two coolers of food stuffed in between the stack of amps and the box that held the snow chains and the twenty-kilo bag of clay kitty litter no one wanted to remove in spite of it being almost the end of July and nearly thirty degrees. Why tempt fate?
Gale family phones began as the cheapest pay-as-you-go handset available, spent quality time with the aunties, and finished as free, reliable cell service – where reliable meant the aunties saw no reason to allow an absence of signal to interfere with their need to meddle. In the right liver-spotted hands, tech sat up and begged.
In many respects, Cape Breton was like one big small town. People were connected in ways no one in their right mind could anticipate and gossip was cheap and easy entertainment.
Granted out of the water, the Selkies didn’t exactly have a lot of offense. _Give us our skins back, or we’ll stand around the waterfront looking gorgeous._
any auntie could fold a simple yes or no question into shapes an origami master would envy
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