The Other Side of Daylight

By Nicole Chartier

In Wisteria Falls, no one is safe under the blood moon.

Seventeen-year-old Maggie Sawyer can attest to that. After losing her parents during the last red moon, Maggie's life is finally somewhat normal. Living with her uncle has been great, and her friends are amazing. The last thing she wants to deal with is local vampire legends.

But when her best friend Rae goes missing during a party, she's thrown into a life that her family has kept hidden. Her uncle is part of the Coffin Society, a secret vampire hunting organization that operates during the blood moon - the same group her parents belonged to before their deaths.

While her uncle tracks the vampire, Maggie relies on the help of a mysterious witch, a rebellious werewolf, and a fellow vampire hunter to rescue her best friend before Rae becomes a part of the blood moon lore forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sapphire Hollow Press
• Release date: Oct 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215540787

Nicole Chartier

Nicole Chartier has a penchant for darkness, dances under the full moon, and writes paranormal and dystopian fiction. She’s a lifelong lover of werewolves and finds beauty in cemeteries. When not planning for the zombie apocalypse, she hangs out with her husband (who always howls at the moon with her) and her dog (who refuses to play wolf).She also writes contemporary YA/NA fiction under the name Nikki Chartier.

Book preview

The Other Side of Daylight

Nicole Chartier

Copyright © October 27th, 2023 by Nicole Chartier

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

Cover Design by Jes Ireland at Black Bird Book Covers

Author note: For this particular book, the blood moon is in reference to a total lunar eclipse, which happens approximately every three to three and a half years. Please remember this is a work of fiction. Research has been done, but many elements are fictionalized to some extent.

For Sean, who sparked the idea for this book

#makeitparanormal

Contents

1.Chapter One

2.Chapter Two

3.Chapter Three

4.Chapter Four

5.Chapter Five

6.Chapter Six

7.Chapter Seven

8.Chapter Eight

9.Chapter Nine

10.Chapter Ten

11.Chapter Eleven

12.Chapter Twelve

13.Chapter Thirteen

14.Chapter Fourteen

15.Chapter Fifteen

16.Chapter Sixteen

17.Chapter Seventeen

18.Chapter Eighteen

Join the fun!

About the Author

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My hands grip the wooden latticework tightly as I make my way down the side of the house. Sneaking out the window of my second story bedroom was not on my autumn bucket list. If Uncle Byron had a clue as to what I was up to, he’d be so disappointed, but I can’t miss the biggest party of the season all because of a lunar eclipse.

As soon as my boots touch the grass, I dip into the darkness along the edges of the yard. I follow the jagged shadows, careful to stay low to the ground, avoiding the neighbor’s motion lights and any prying eyes.

I dim the screen on my phone before texting Rae. On solid ground. Let me know when to move. The text shows ‘read’ instantly. I slip into the shadows of Mrs. Hartley’s hydrangeas to wait. If my neighbor catches me hiding under her prized flowers, Uncle Byron will be the least of my worries. Everyone in Wisteria Falls knows that Mrs. Hartley treasures her hydrangea bushes more than she treasures human life.

I lift my hand from the dirt to balance myself better, but when I shift my body, the hair on my arms stands up. A tingling sensation blankets me. I’m not alone. My hand brushes against someone’s arm, and on instinct, I inhale a quick breath, ready to scream my heart out. A hand clamps over my mouth from behind, pulling me against the person in the shadows.

Shhh, they whisper. I’m not going to hurt you, but you can’t make a sound.

I try to nod, but their arms hold me tightly, pressing my shoulder blades into their chest. A light whiff of hot guy body wash catches my nose. It’s definitely a guy. He slowly moves his hand away from my mouth. I release a shaky breath, hoping whoever this is isn’t a serial killer who will make me collateral damage.

The bright glow of Mrs. Hartley’s motion lights shine between the flowers, casting just enough light for me to see. Ferreira Storm peers at me in the shadows. A shiver runs over my skin. The timing is perfect because the Storm brothers freak me out. I’ve only spoken to one of them at length, and while it wasn’t necessarily bad, it was the worst night of my life, so it’s not a good memory either. Ferreira is the youngest of the pack and has the worst reputation.

What the hell are you doing here? he whispers.

I could ask you the same thing, I retort, keeping my voice low.

He puts a finger over his mouth to silence me. I start to question him, but the eerie creak of Mrs. Hartley’s screen door halts me. Soft footsteps echo across her wooden porch as she paces from side to side, likely gazing across the yard to ensure nothing is going on. I don’t dare move so much as a finger.

The porch door squeaks again before clicking shut. We wait a few seconds until the loud thud of her deadbolt echoes under the porch. I turn my gaze back to Ferreira. Clusters of hydrangeas shield most of his face. It doesn’t matter, though.

He is the only Storm brother whose high school days overlapped with my own. Every girl in school had a crush on him at some point. I couldn’t blame them. His haunting green eyes are unlike those of his brothers. He has that classic Storm jaw line and bad boy vibe. The sports car doesn’t hurt either.

I don’t know where the Storm reputation comes from, though. Yeah, the family is heavily inked and drive fast cars, but none of them have a criminal record, to my knowledge. They keep to themselves, like a safe that no one has been able to crack open. Elusive and unattainable – that’s what they really are.

So why are you hiding in the crazy woman’s flowers? he asks, his tone cold and unwelcoming.

I’m waiting for someone, I say.

I regret my words immediately. I should’ve said I was waiting for my boyfriend or that I was waiting on a ride to a party. I’m not about to tell him this is a dry run for a Halloween night escape. He doesn’t need the details.

What are you doing here? I counter.

A glimmer of a smirk creeps onto his face. Running an errand for a friend, he says.

In Hartley’s hydrangeas? I ask.

Yeah, actually, he says.

I don’t believe him for a second, but I can’t think of a good comeback to offset him again. Whatever he’s up to, he’s not going to tell me about it. I doubt he even remembers me from when he was in school, if he ever knew who I was at all.

The streetlights cast a ghostly orange haze along the quiet street, but in the distance, Rae’s slim stature peeks out from behind a streetlight. My phone lights up with a text. In place. Move now. I glance over at Ferreira.

I have to go, I say. Can you stay hidden until we’re gone? It looks sort of bad if–

If your friend sees you come out of the bushes with a guy? Ferreira asks. Don’t worry. I wasn’t even here, and if you know what’s best for both of us, you’ll pretend you never saw me.

The threat in his voice isn’t necessary. I’d much rather pretend I didn’t see him, even if I’m incredibly curious why in the hell he’s lurking around in Mrs. Hartley’s flowers late at night. I’m used to things not making sense around here, but there is no logical explanation for this.

I slip out of the shadows of the bushes and hurry toward the street. My boots pound against the pavement as I cross to the other side. A purple and blue witch inflatable sways in a yard, a continuous whirring coming from within. The festive piece makes me smile. It feels like spooky season.

Rae jumps out from behind the light post and jogs toward me, closing the distance between us. When we came up with this escape plan, I really didn’t think I’d be able to pull it off, but seeing her waving at me with a smile wrapped across her face, I feel triumphant. This dry run has gone off without a hitch – mostly – and leaves me hopeful for Saturday night’s escape plan.

Maggie! You did it! Rae exclaims, looping her arm around mine. I wasn’t sure it was possible. Between your nosy neighbor and great-uncle’s spy skills, this is impressive.

It wasn’t without issues, I say.

I don’t mention how the toe of my boot got stuck in the lattice or that my hands will have permanent scars from the rose vines. Making it outside was one feat, but sneaking past Mrs. Hartley’s house without being seen was another victory entirely. The run-in with Ferreira Storm might as well have never happened. I glance over my shoulder to see if there’s any movement among the hydrangeas, but I see nothing.

But it was easier than I expected, I admit. I hate lying to Uncle Byron and sneaking around, though. He’s understanding about so much, but the blood moon makes him crazy. I get it, but it still sucks.

Rae pulls me closer to her and hugs my arm. He worries about you, she says. He’s a good man. I just wish he’d be chill about my party. Once the blood moon comes and goes, and you’re still here and safe, I think he’ll lighten up. I mean, it is the first once since…

Her voice trails off. Even now, three years later, people don’t talk about that night. Blood moons in Wisteria Falls are infamous for the random disappearances that occur. My parents were the first deaths under the red sky. They’re legendary for dying instead of disappearing, and people think I should be grateful for the finality of it, to have closure.

But they weren’t there that night. They weren’t in the backseat of the car when it crashed. They didn’t watch their parents take their final breaths. It’s easy for them to spout off the drivel about them being in a better place or how they didn’t suffer. It’s never comforting, though.

It’s okay, Rae, I lie. You can say it. Since my parents died.

When we round the corner to the next street, the outline of Rae’s vehicle comes into view. The sleek red car blends into the neighborhood, as if it’s always parked there, waiting by the curb for a getaway moment.

But the silhouette towering next to it doesn’t belong here. My heart drops into my stomach. I don’t know if I should instantly beg for forgiveness or bail and run back home. Uncle Byron slowly turns his head in our direction, like a creepy animatronic in the seasonal Halloween store. His six-foot-five frame slinks toward us, not even giving me a chance to reach the car. His long white hair is pulled back into his usual braid, accenting his thin face.

Good evening, Ms. Adams, he says. I hate to crash this little escape you and my niece have cooked up, but I’m fairly certain this pertains to your party this weekend.

Rae’s face sinks. Hi, Mr. Byron, she says, her voice hushed. She looks to me, unsure of what to tell him.

I’m sorry, I say, my voice quiet and meek. We’re both sorry. It’s just, this is the biggest party of the year, at least until graduation.

I understand, believe it or not, my uncle says. I know Rae is your best friend, and this Halloween party is a rather big deal. But there are things that happen in this town that are beyond our understanding, and because of the last blood moon’s events, I cannot risk having you out and about during this cycle.

He’s been more than lenient with me lately. I’ve been free to hang out with my friends more after school. I have permission to attend any of the pre-Halloween events, haunted houses, and parties. I just have to be home during the blood moon, which unfortunately lines up with Halloween night this year.

Any other time, I’d accept the situation, but I grew up living and breathing Halloween with my parents. Handing out candy to little kids in princess and monster costumes is not how I want to spend my final high school Halloween.

Rae rocks back on her heels. Would you like a ride back home? she asks. It’s the least I could offer. I’m really sorry about this.

Uncle Byron shakes his head. The night air is perfect for a stroll, but I appreciate the offer, he says. If Maggie would like a ride home, I’d be okay with that. Drive safely getting home tonight, Ms. Adams.

Rae nods to my great-uncle and looks back to me. We don’t speak until Uncle Byron rounds the corner onto our street. I’d planned every detail meticulously for this escape attempt, and I didn’t even make it around the block before I was caught. There’s no way I’ll be able to sneak out on the actual night.

He’s worried. And he cares about you. That’s what it is, Rae says, breaking the silence. He doesn’t want to lose you in a tragic accident too.

I nod because I know she’s right, at least in part. Uncle Byron is concerned history may repeat itself, and he doesn’t want anything to happen to me. But the tragic accident? That’s where she has it all wrong.

I think I’m going to walk home too, I say, looking down the empty street. It’s not far, and I hate to sound like my uncle, but the night air might do me well. Maybe I can come up with a pitch to sell him on for this weekend.

Rae sighs. Are you sure? she asks. I don’t want you getting in trouble on account of my whack idea. I expected something to go wrong, but I didn’t think he’d catch us like that.

I know, I say. I’ll be okay. Maybe I can negotiate something with him. I’ll let you know when I get home. Promise.

I tap the flashlight icon on my phone before I head down the street, following my uncle’s path. There’s no way Uncle Byron is going to let me go to the Halloween party this weekend because he knows as well as I do that my parents didn’t die in a tragic accident.

The police report states that we hit a deer. The coroner said my parents died on impact. It’s a pretty little tragedy wrapped up in crime scene tape and blood moon lies. I know we didn’t hit a deer that night. And whatever happened, it was no accident.

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Autumn leaves skip along the sidewalk as I stroll downtown. A lady stands outside the local bakery handing out ghost-mallow cake pops. A sign in the window advertises a ‘blood moon special’ on red velvet cupcakes. Any desire I had to try the marshmallow-flavored cake pops dies upon seeing the blood moon used as a marketing tool.

I continue on, past the hay bales that decorate the sidewalk, toward Casa de Queso. When Rae texted asking if I wanted to meet her there after school, that was a no-brainer. Nothing drowns out last night’s disappointment like queso and chips. I dread walking in there and telling her that I’ve yet to come up with a new plan for this weekend, though.

Growing up, after we moved to Wisteria Falls, Mom and Dad went all out for Halloween. Dad was more into it than Mom was, but she humored our love of monsters and slasher movies. She always laughed about how kids I didn’t even know would beg to come to my Halloween parties because we had a reputation for being the best. Rae was there for every one of them. Now she’s the one throwing the party.

I can’t help thinking how different things would be if they were here. Dad would insist on decorating the front porch in July, but Mom would make him wait until September first. We wouldn’t build cardboard tombstones for the yard anymore. Dad would’ve elevated his skills throughout the years. We’d probably be renting out some awesome building or hosting our own haunted house. I miss them year-round, in the smallest of moments, but October hits hardest.

Orange flower petals scatter across the pavement, leading to the doorway of Casa de Queso. Painted sugar skulls rest against the cacti on either