"Hey, Phoebe!" My friend Alex called from the couch. She was lounged across the length of it, her long brown hair spilling messily onto the cushions. She must've let herself in while I was out. I wasn't surprised; I was used to her unannounced visits by now. "How was the date with Michael?"

I shrugged, and mumbled some incoherent response. She sat up, her kind brown eyes focusing on my face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I sighed. "I just don't think he's the right guy."

I trudged over to the couch and plopped down next to her. "What are you watching?"

She grinned, her brown eyes sparkling with amusement. "Wipe out." We watched as a guy attempted to jump from a narrow beam onto a rotating platform. He just missed and he went sprawling into the pool of slime below. Alex burst out laughing.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm going to go upstairs and read, okay?"

She nodded absentmindedly, her eyes latched onto the screen. I hurried upstairs to my bedroom and gently shut the door behind me. I smiled softly; glad to be alone at last.

I collapsed onto the mass of pillows covering my bed. As I lay there, I closed my eyes, my mind wandering. My thoughts flittered around for a bit before settling on Michael.

There wasn't anything exactly wrong with him…. except he didn't love me. He didn't understand me the way a boyfriend should. He didn't see past my fiery red hair, pale skin, and mysterious green eyes. I wanted a guy who cherished my every thought, respected my opinions, and admired my wit.

I wanted to find my soulmate.

I sighed wearily. Soulmates didn't exist, at least not in the real world. They only lived in my favorite books, the Nightworld series by L.J Smith. Why couldn't we have soulmates in real life? It was so reassuring; to know that there's another person out there ready to love you completely, unconditionally.

My phone buzzed. It was Michael again.

I sighed, ignoring it. Instead, I picked up the first Night World volume, flipping through the crinkled and worn pages to the beginning. I smiled as the familiar words ran through my head.

"It was on the first day of summer vacation that Poppy found out she was going to die. . ."

I continued reading, each word pulling me deeper and deeper into a world of full vampires, shifters and witches.

I finished the first book quickly; I was a fast reader, and quickly began the next book. Daughters of Darkness; The story of one of my favorite Night World couples.

I had just finished reading the third page when it happened.

The pages began to blur, the words swirling together. I shook my head, and blinked, certain my eyes were fatigued and hallucinating.

I glanced up at the clock. It was barely eight.

My eyes darted back down to the page.

It was still swirling, the words twisting into one massive ink vortex.

"What the hell? " I hissed, dropping the book. It fell in a crumpled heap by the side of my bed.

I stared at it for a moment, my mind frozen with shock. I hesitantly inched closer to it, flipping it over with my foot.

The pages were still whirling together, twirling across the page like a tornado through Kansas. I reached out with one trembling hand to touch the page. It didn't feel like paper, it felt like . . . air.

I suddenly felt a sharp tug. I was thrust into a whirling vortex of pages, my stomach plummeting at the fall, my scream muffled by the whipping wind.

Then, just as quickly as it had started, it ended.

I fell with a thud into a dusty, country lane. I slowly stood up, wiping the dirt off of my hands and pants. I looked around me, a little disoriented from the fall.

Where am I? I wondered.

I could just make out the outline of a road sign in the distance. I sprinted over there as swiftly as my legs would carry me, the strong summer heat scorching my face.

It was an old, wooden sign that looked like it was about to collapse at any moment. I quickly read it, and then slowly read it again; sure I had made a mistake.

But no matter how many times I read it, it still said the same thing.

Welcome to Briar Creek.