Excerpt of Mixing It Up by Edie Ramer

Ki was better today. Normal. Not like yesterday when her insides whirled faster than her industrial cake mixer. It reminded her of the time before she, her daughter, her sister and her niece escaped from Kergeron. Days when fear chased circles around hope.

Thank the Great Mother they lived a calm life now in the aptly named small town of Freedom, Kentucky. Six years without a man, the best years in her life. At peace in her routine. Baking her muffins before the early breakfast crowd descended on their Tea & Comfort diner. Each woman with her own specialty.

She hummed as she swirled blueberries into the muffin mix with a wooden spoon, gently, as if they were newly laid robin eggs. Sending love into the mixture with each twist of the spoon. Her favorite part of the day. The reason she didn't mind getting up while everyone but Andy at Freedom Gas and Groceries slept and the April sun hovered at the edges of the horizon in a red haze.

Far different from the harsh red of the two Kergeron suns with their relentless heat. A place where men ruled and women had no rights.

Her grip tightened on the spoon. Shutting off the memories, she focused on her shiny kitchen. She inhaled the calming scents of the batter. The mix of creamed butter and sugar and blueberries.

Her grip relaxed. This was her world now, and she treasured it the way a miser treasured gold bars.

She was normal again. She could—

A vision howled into her head. One second she was gazing at the pale brown dough wrapping around blueberries. The next she was in a familiar, grassy area. Two wolves snarled, their eyes glowing yellow. Between them stood a lamb they both wanted to sink their teeth into and devour. She was inside the minds of all three animals. Their anger and hunger and fears screamed at her, pounded at her nerves and smashed down her mental barriers like plywood in the path of a bulldozer.

The bowl crashed on to the floor. She dimly heard the bounce of the metal bowl on the tile. Felt dough splash against her pants legs. Heard whimpers coming out of her mouth.

The vision snapped away, and she was in the kitchen again. She grabbed the counter edge to keep from falling to her knees onto the muffin batter. Bending over the stainless steel surface, she sorted out the meaning of the vision.

She knew three things.

The grassy area was her back yard.

The wolves were men.

The lamb was her.

The last time she'd been this frightened, she'd been fourteen and her father told her that she was going to be mated with a man old enough to be her father.

She hadn't been ready. Not matured. Not grown into her powers.

It didn't matter to him. Nor did her mother's objections. Someone saw her. Someone wanted her. Her father gave her to his friend as easily as she gave away a muffin.

Slowly her whimpers changed to harsh breaths. A scrap of strength returned to her arms that had gone as weak as her unbaked bread. She flattened her hands on the counter and pushed up.

Slowly, feeling like an accident victim, she stepped carefully over the splatters of dough. In two hours the tea shop would be open and her regular customers would be strolling in. Depending on her to feed them the muffins and breads she infused with love and good wishes.

Right now she could use a muffin like that. She could use a dozen muffins like that.

But she had to do what the women of her family always did.

Keep going. Never stop. Never give up.

If the wolves came, she knew what she had to do.

Keeping her head up, she opened the cleaning supplies closet and then stopped. Something was starting inside her womb. Something that warmed and heated and left her quivering with need. Something that hadn't happened for years and she'd hoped would never happen again.

She was ovulating.