Dog Days of Summer
Heather Graham
Prologue
A Beautiful Night
“What a beautiful night!” Vivian Welborne said.
And it was. The month of August had arrived. Summer would soon wane and Autumn would be upon them.
But for tonight . . .
The moon was majestic, riding high in the sky. The night was pleasant with a temperature in the high seventies. The air was slightly moving with a gentle breeze, and stars dotted a sky that didn’t appear to be black or gray, rather a stunning shade of navy blue.
And she and Bobby were just hanging out in their lawn chairs by the pool, staring at the beauty of the night.
He turned to her with a smile. “When it’s full, they call it ‘The Sturgeon Moon,’ you know,” he told her, grinning.
“Because you can see the fish better?” she asked.
“That would be the reason. Really,” he told her grinning and taking her hand. “I guess the light gave fishermen a better opportunity to catch the creatures. But it’s for real—known as The Sturgeon Moon!”
Vivian smiled, closing her eyes for a minute. Her husband was a chemist who worked for a government agency. When explosives were discovered—stopped or ignited—they were brought to his lab. Bobby was brilliant. He’d managed to make discoveries that had helped law enforcement and the military. She was proud of him!
She was also grateful for these precious moments they had alone. His job was demanding. She was a high school history teacher, and they were also parents to a thirteen-year-old boy and a ten-year-old girl. It was a great life, but times like these . . .
Her mom was watching the kids. And they had the night.
She smiled again. They’d met in high school, and her friends had teased her then—if she was going to date a nerd, at least she was dating the best-looking nerd known to man. Bobby was almost six-four, dark-haired, amber-eyed, and all together handsome—back then, and still now. And her “nerd” had proven to be one impressive scientist.
“So!” Vivian said. “There will be a ‘Sturgeon Moon,’ and we’re sitting here in the ‘Dog Days of Summer.’”
“And still so romantic!” Bobby said, laughing. “And since you’re a history teacher, my love, you also know it was in August of 79 A.D. that Mount Vesuvius erupted and destroyed Pompeii.”
“Yeah, and in August of 1945, the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima,” she said dryly.
“Oh, how romantic!” he teased.
“You started it! Oh, okay, here are some good things about August!” Vivian said. “Let’s see, August 18th, 1920. The nineteenth amendment was ratified, granting women the right to vote. And in August of 1963, Martin Luther King gave his amazing ‘I Have a Dream’ speech. Oh, August also has International Youth Day and National Aviation Day! See? Okay, so maybe not so romantic, but . . .”
Bobby grinned and leaned toward her. Their chairs were flush to one another, so it was easy for him to slip his arms around her for a deep and passionate kiss, one that defied the years, and swept her into happiness knowing their marriage had not only survived every little trial and tribulation but become stronger with the deep-rooted ties of love.
But it was this very beautiful moment that kept them from seeing the dark forms that swept around them.
Not would it have mattered if they had.
There were suddenly four figures grappling at them. Clad in black, almost blending with the night.
She saw Bobby’s eyes, stunned and curious and then filled with dismay as he was ripped away from her.
And she felt the staggering pain of something slamming against her head.
Then the beautiful star-studded night with it’s incredible moon was gone . . .
Gone into nothing but darkness.
Meteor Showers—and Other Bursts of Light
