Mia Moore and the Emerald Ring

By Bre Long

The first book in the Mia Moore series.

What if you befriended a boy that you discovered was a brother you didn’t know existed? What if the woman who claims to be your mother admits she is someone else? What if your real parents are CIA agents that fled to protect you from a vengeful assassin?
Sixteen year-old Mia Moore is about to find out her mom, Jenna, has been keeping a few secrets... like how she is not really her mother.
When Mia’s sleep becomes interrupted by a series of nightmares, she first decides to shrug it off and blame her imagination, but the more terrifying the nightmares become, the more she realizes a story is unfolding. She decides to dig deeper when she finds a photo of a boy that has been in her nightmares and a mysterious birthday poem. The poem sends Mia to a man who has all the answers, including the location of her runaway parents.
Mia must decide if she will abandon everything to find out who she is... or stay behind and never know the truth. She can only rely on herself as she tracks down her parents, uncovers the reality in her nightmares ... and learns to trust her family again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bre Long
• Release date: Jul 2, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465815620

Bre Long

'Mia Moore and the Emerald Ring' from the Mia Moore series is the first published work for author, Breanna Long.

Book preview

Mia Moore and the Emerald Ring

Published by Breanna Long at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 by Breanna Long

Chapter 1

Honk!

My eyes slowly opened, allowing themselves to adjust to the light that was pouring in my bedroom window. I was not ready to be awake yet. I ran my fingers across the right side of my face to move a few strands of hair out of the way. I glanced around the room, trying to pinpoint the noise that had broken my sleep. When I felt safe that the offending noise must have been outside, I pulled my comforter up to my chin. I figured if I could stay warm under my covers, I would drift back to sleep and continue my captivating dream. My eyelids fluttered close…

Honk!

I rolled my eyes and sighed deeply to let out my frustration. Sleeping was out of the question, which also meant no more dream. I was too awake now. I let my arms fall off my torso and land softly at my sides. Oh well.

The dream had been recurring over the past couple of weeks, so I hoped the pattern would continue and I could catch up when I got home tonight. Last night, a new piece had been introduced to the normal storyline. Usually, it ends with me walking on the beach of an island with a storm brewing right off the coastline when this man walks out from the thick collection of trees in the center of the island. Last night, the dream furthered and the man began to holler, at me or about me I could not tell, so I began walking toward him. His face was masked by a darkness the storm created and, even at this closer distance; his words were too muffled to comprehend. Maybe a few more feet would have made a difference…

Honk!

The car horn, that woke me in the first place, snapped me back into reality and I grabbed my alarm clock: 7:30! Apparently, it was a very good dream because my alarm had been trying to rouse me for 30 minutes. I plucked myself out of bed and shuffled over to my bedroom window, pulling back the draperies. The car in my driveway was a 1990-something Jeep Cherokee with navy blue, partially peeling paint. It belonged to my best friend, Elizabeth. It might not be an impressive sight, but to a couple of 16-year olds it meant freedom. She was here to pick me up for school and, unfortunately, I had overslept. I was about to yell for her to give me five more minutes, but her door was open and she was not in the car. Which could only mean…

Ding-Dong

I let out another frustrated sigh. She had promised to arrive at 7:30 sharp to pick me up and that was exactly one minute ago. I pinned the blame on myself and kicked up my speed as I yanked off my cotton pajama pants and top and threw them in the laundry basket next to my door.

I wasn’t worried about Liz stomping up the stairs to come find me, because I knew my mom would offer her something to eat and get a full report on how excited she was for our first day back to school. Liz would indulge my mother and I would have a couple of minutes to spare. I picked up my pace again as I sped down the hall to the bathroom. I definitely didn’t have time for a shower, but I wanted to splash some water on my face to wake myself up. The lukewarm stream from the sink felt nice and I took a second to enjoy the refreshed feeling before going back to my bedroom.

I rummaged through my closet and found a pair of jeans and a white peasant top, the only color that made my pale skin seem darker. Glancing in the mirror after I yanked on my outfit, I realized the top was a little snug on my curvy figure. My hips would have to deal with it. I was under a time limit. I pulled my blonde hair back into a messy ponytail and grabbed my backpack before running down the stairs.

The kitchen doorway was about five feet in front of the base of the staircase so I used my left-over momentum to carry me right into my mom and Liz’s conversation.

I tried to look casual as I walked in to witness my mom hold up a plate of bacon and Liz politely shake her head in decline. My mom aimed her eyes toward me

Good morning sweetheart. You look nice for your first day. She ended with an approving wink.

Thanks, mom. Mmm, that smells awesome. Can I have some? I pointed at the breakfast spread that was laid across the stovetop and adjoining counter.

Already on it. She popped open the microwave and whipped out a plate that she had been heating up. I didn’t want it to get cold before you came down. Running a little late, aren’t we? I didn’t make eye contact with my mom or Liz, but I greeted my friend anyway because I couldn’t avoid the almost certain lecture I was about to get from her.

Good morning, Liz.

Good morning? I have been waiting for you for fifteen minutes, Mia! Now we’re going to be late! Why does being on time not mean anything to you? She shoved her hand on her hip and stared me down. It seemed I had two mothers in the kitchen with me. Liz was not the one cooking breakfast, so I was not too worried about her remarks.

I loved my best friend, but her best trait was also her worst: She hated being late. For this reason, no one was ever late when attending a function with her. Everyone knew about her phobia though, so no one usually went anywhere with her anyway.

She continued to glare at me as I stuffed more eggs and bacon inside a piece of toast and started to chomp down.

I’m sorry. I mumbled through the food I was chewing. After I swallowed, I poked my bottom lip out and batted my green eyes at her. She wasn’t buying it.

Come on! I didn’t mean to take so long; I just wanted to look perfect for my first day as a sophomore! We’re not the newbie’s anymore! I coughed as a few crumbs from my meal stuck in my throat and I grabbed a glass of juice to wash them down. I was thrilled not to be the new kid on the block. I had been taunted lightly last year and I was happy that time had passed.

Liz looked at me with one eyebrow raised, obviously pondering over my statement and my not-so-perfect ponytail, but she didn’t argue. She obviously had taken the time to look perfect for her first day: her black hair lay flawless; her make-up was minimal as usual but just right on her round face. She wore a neatly pressed aqua sundress with ruffles on the bottom. She was perfect, as always. I felt a little jealous, as always.

Let’s get going then. I want to make sure we get good seats at orientation. She turned on her heels and walked swiftly toward the door. I nodded in agreement. My mom gave me some quick words of encouragement and a tin lunch box with cartoon characters on the front. I looked at her in horror and pointed silently to the picture hammered into the tin.

Cafeteria food is horrible for you! She defended her choice in lunch boxes. She knew I wasn’t a health nut and, as a result, she knew her angle was not too convincing. Besides…it’s the only thing I have to put your food in. She screwed her face up into a pained expression and her statement almost sounded more like a question.

I looked at the faded My Little Pony picture on the lunch box but decided not to fight it. I would leave it in Liz’s car and throw out its contents before coming home. My mom would be none-the-wiser.

As my mother finished speaking, I noticed Liz peering around the house. She looked outside on the porch, and then craned her neck to see down the hall. She spun around to face me with a confused look spreading across her face. Her hands raised in question.

Where’s Ethan? I thought he was riding with us this morning. She whispered, obviously concerned.

Yeah, he was supposed to, but the plan changed last night. You know how his mom is a photography freak. She always takes pictures of her kids on the first day of school every year. She’s been doing it ever since I’ve known them. She wanted to drive him so she could get shots every step of the way, from home until he reached the doors of the school. He promised to meet me in the cafeteria before class. I shrugged.

Liz dropped her shoulders and shook her head. In addition to her tardiness phobia, she loathed changing plans at the last minute. I, on the other hand, could not care less about being early, on-time or late. It never bothered me.

Can no one stick to a schedule? She breathed to herself. For heaven’s sake, you would have thought it was her boyfriend that stood us up.

Give us moms a little bit of slack, my mom was eavesdropping on our conversation about Ethan, you’ll know when you have kids of your own. You guys grow up so fast. We don’t want to miss a minute. My mom looked off in the distance in her moment of nostalgia. Liz and I exchanged amused smirks and decided to duck out while we had the chance.

Bye mom, I’ll see you around 4. Love you! I gave my mom a peck on the cheek and headed through the hallway toward the door.

See ya later, Jenna! Liz skipped out the door and down the steps.

My mom hated the formality of my friends calling her ‘Ms. Moore’ so they were all on a first-name basis.

Outside, the sun warmed my skin as soon as I stepped away from the shadow of the porch awning. The weather was beautiful and I silently mulled over the idea of skipping class. I seated myself in the passenger side of Liz’s Jeep. I fumbled around with the visor so I could check myself in the mirror. When I flipped it open I could see why Liz didn’t buy my excuse. My blonde hair was sticking out all over the place and my eyes were a little bloodshot. I pulled my hair out of the ponytail and made a mental note to invest in some Visine as soon as possible. As I clicked my seat belt into place I noticed we were still sitting in the driveway. She turned to me with a half grin.

Why don’t you tell me the real reason you were running late? Her face looked like it was braced to hear that I was a superhero and had just finished ridding the city of criminals when she arrived at my door.

I laughed lightly and began to divulge the details of the dream. It must have been an impressive story because Liz was oozing with excitement.

Wow! I wish I could dream about things like that. I wish I could have dreams at all. I usually just have nightmares about the school doors being locked because I showed up too late. I had to smile at her predictable thought process.

It was just a stupid dream. Sheesh. Next time I’ll tell you I dreamt of being swooped up by Prince Charming and we rode off into the sunset on his white steed. I mocked her.

She grumbled loud enough for me to hear.

I tried to stifle a laugh with little success and our conversation died off.

My attention turned to some of the buildings we were passing on our drive to school. Every time I drove down Douglas Avenue, the direct route to our school, I couldn’t help but admire the architecture of the older homes and some of the businesses in town.

I live in the blossoming city of Lee’s Summit, Missouri. It is so beautiful here, regardless of the season. We have this quaint downtown area that is full of old shops and 60’s gas stations turned diners. A vintage set of railroad tracks runs straight down the middle.

When I was a younger, my mom would take me for walks and explain the history of my favorite places in our downtown area. For instance, the ice cream shop we always went to was originally a hardware store owned by Mr. Clyde Terrell. When he retired, however, his oldest daughter, who was known for her sweet-tooth, took over the business. She wanted to keep the store in the family, but, not knowing anything about tools, decided to change the family business to frozen treats. You could see Mr. Terrell, admiring the nuts and bolts on the ice cream cases with a little too much longing in his eye when he came to visit his old store.

I noticed we had passed all the historic buildings and the high school baseball diamond was slowly coming into view. Liz’s forehead wrinkled and she squinted slightly as she concentrated on finding a parking space. We were a few minutes behind and most of the spots were taken so she sped up to get to the back of the lot.

We turned in to the second spot from the end, pulled our bags onto our shoulders and started walking toward the school. A couple of students were perched on top of an 80’s Camaro and they glanced toward us with bored expressions as we passed. I stared back for a moment until one of the boys from the group stood up and started striding in our direction.

Hey! Aren’t you in the wrong parking lot my friend? He yelled toward us, a cocky smile spreading across his face. I refused to look up again. Please, please do not be talking to me, I thought. My hope of being ignored so the upperclassman could prey on the freshman was pointless. I cringed. I could not make up my mind whether or not I should answer him, but by the time any words found my mouth another male voice came from somewhere behind us.

I thought teachers could park wherever they wanted. Maybe if you showed up for class once in a while you would know that. I turned around and saw the man who was answering the student, walking around me on my left. Apparently, the student’s comments were not directed toward us. The teacher clicked his tongue twice and his jaw became a little tight.

Speaking of which, I’m surprised to see you’re here today, Aaron. What’s the special occasion? He raised one eyebrow and presented the same cocky grin Aaron had thrown at him moments before. Aaron slowly walked over to him and spoke quietly.

Mr. Quigley, he sneered, I never miss the first day of class. Besides, you’re my favorite, out of all you clowns that teach here. You inspire me to show up. He covered his heart with both hands and gave Mr. Quigley a fake look of adoration. Both men chuckled softly, but not as if at an unheard joke: they were just trying to break the tension they were causing between each other.

As they stood a mere 6 inches apart, I couldn’t help but notice their physical resemblance. The two guys looked about the same age and both were very attractive: medium brown hair, blue eyes and square jaw lines. The only difference was what they were wearing: Mr. Quigley had on khaki slacks and a blue button down shirt, his messy hair and sideburns made him look younger, Aaron wore a backwards baseball cap, football jersey and torn jeans.

I had rocked up to my toes and my mouth was slightly ajar, waiting for a teacher’s response to such an out-of-line student.

Instead, Mr. Quigley turned toward us and smiled, Don’t mind Aaron, he’s my little brother. He hasn’t gotten used to me teaching here yet. Excited for the first day?

I sighed in relief, but unable to find words, Liz and I nodded furiously at his question.

He laughed, Me too. It’s my first year teaching, so I’m a little antsy. What year are you two?

I answered. Sophomore. Both of us. I pointed to myself and then Liz.

We’re not sure where this room is, Liz indicated the first class on her schedule, Could you help us? She knew very well where that class was but, considering the sly glance she gave Aaron Quigley, she was elongating our time here for other reasons.

Okay. May I see your schedules for a minute?

I dug in my pocket and handed him my schedule. He crinkled his brow as he read and then pointed us across the courtyard to a large auditorium.

You will be with the group of sophomores that have orientation first. There will be a sign-in desk at the door. Make sure you get in before the bell rings. I hear Mrs. Oppenheimer doesn’t take well to late-comers. Good luck.

Mr. Quigley turned and headed in the other direction calling out a couple of greetings to random students. He twisted to the right and glanced at Aaron as he continued walking.

Lose the hat, Aaron. His tone was no longer brotherly.

Aaron jerked off his hat and tossed it in the backseat of his Camaro. He had not left his post next to Liz’s car and he was staring at her with a curious gaze. He appeared to be making an attempt to piece together a greeting but with a lot of strain. His mouth opened and snapped shut a few times. Liz and I stood there for a moment; waiting for something to happen. Eventually shook our heads in amusement and gave up. I wrapped my arm through hers and we herded ourselves in with the other students and headed toward the building.

He’s cute! Liz whispered loudly to me. She was beaming ear-to-ear as Aaron walked in the other direction toward his class. I’d never seen her like this.

Yeah and he’s about a hundred years older than you too Liz, get a grip! I teased. I laughed and she turned to me with an expression of hidden concern.

Hey, you seem a little… distracted this morning. Is something bothering you? She frowned toward me while waiting for an answer.

"No. Nothing’s bothering me, not really. I just have butterflies in my