Muddled, Mystified & Marvelous Musings

Excerpt #1
I’d felt a lot like an actress on the night of our brothers’ secret graduation party two years ago. For one thing, I wasn’t remotely as reserved as usual, thanks to being away from home and, also, being a little buzzed.
More than that, I remembered how the bourbon and the careless abandon of summer even made me kind of bold, and how I’d walked up to Donovan McCafferty when he was alone in the kitchenette part of the hotel suite.
“Hey, Donovan,” I murmured, standing much closer to him than I ever would have normally. But I was nearly a high-school junior then. I thought I was almost cool.
“Aurora,” he whispered, watching me with a rare inquisitive look as I smiled at him and leaned against the mauve-colored wall. That glint of interest in his gaze gave me courage.
I reached out to stroke his chest—firm against my fingertips—and I grabbed a handful of his t-shirt because I liked the sensation of it. It was deep red, newish and much softer than I’d expected. Somehow, it made sense to me in that moment to tug him close, my fingers letting go of his shirt’s front and reaching all the way around him. Caressing his back and pressing him to me. I raised my head to kiss him and noticed he was holding his breath.
For a second, he let me touch his lips with mine. Just that one single time. Then he stepped away, abruptly, and with an apology.
“Been drinking,” he said, glancing to either side of us, not that anyone else was looking. “Sorry.”
At first I didn’t know if he’d been talking about my drinking or his. I sort of laughed. “Everyone’s been drinking. Half the people in the other room are passed out.” I shrugged. “Nobody’s, um...watching us.”
I knew my best friend Betsy was making out with some townie in the hall. My brother Gideon was on the sofa—a blonde sprawled languorously on top of him. Donovan’s brother Jeremy was smoking weed with a few people in the bathroom. I could smell it. Hear them laughing.
“You’re too young,” Donovan said simply.
I was almost sixteen then and, in my expert opinion, at least as mature as a twenty-nine year old. He’d just turned twenty-one and had to be going on about thirty-five. But I liked older men. Well, specifically, this man. He was just five years older, really.
And, anyway, if he had a point, I wasn’t about to admit it.

Excerpt #2
I could count on one hand the things I knew were true about Donovan McCafferty:
He was twenty-three—just over five years older than I was.
He’d escaped into the Army at age eighteen and, except for a few quick but memorable visits, hadn’t returned to Minnesota until this past winter.
He had an excellent mechanical mind.
And he made me very nervous.
Underneath my skin, every nerve fiber was fast twitching. Just thinking about Donovan always did that to me...
It was 7:05 p.m. by the time I got to the auto-body shop where he worked. They closed at seven, but the light in the back was on and I knew he was in there. Not because I’d caught even one glimpse of Mr. Tall, Dark and Intense yet, but because the only other car in the lot was a crimson Trans Am with the giant Firebird decal in black and gold across the hood. His, of course.
I pushed open my car door, grabbed my tote bag with Gideon’s journal tucked safely inside and inhaled several lungfuls of the cloying summer air.
I didn’t make it more than five steps before Donovan came out. A solid, broad-shouldered, six-foot-two mass of frequently impenetrable emotions. Not impenetrable enough this time, though.
Even at a distance of half a parking lot, I detected two powerful sensations that crashed, one after the other, into my awareness:
One, he was hugely curious about why I was here.
And, two, he very much wished I hadn’t been.
He walked up to me and cleared his throat. “Car trouble, Aurora?” He glanced at my hand-me-down Buick, which had done nothing but purr contentedly during my drives around town. Donovan was the type to have noticed this, so I could tell he knew it wasn’t the car.
I shook my head. “I need to show you something,” I told him. “Privately.”
A small flash of amusement quirked one corner of his mouth upward. I was surprised he allowed me to read this, especially since he knew I could. Surprised he was letting me see that one of his possible explanations for my presence was flirtatious in origin—even as he immediately dismissed the idea.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like that.”
He pressed his lips together, but the amusement still simmered just beneath the surface. “Too bad. ‘We’re both young and inconspicuous,’” he said, parroting the hideously embarrassing words I’d said to him two years ago at our brothers’ secret high-school graduation party..
I fought a blush. “We’re not that young,” I told him, trying to stand straighter and look older. “And we’re not inconspicuous here.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” He turned and motioned for me to follow him inside. Led me into the back office and ushered me in. “You want me to close this door, too? Snap the blinds shut?”
He was mocking me, but there was a layer of concern beneath it. He knew something serious was up. In a town of 2,485 people, where you’d run into the majority of the residents a handful of times each week, I’d spoken with Donovan McCafferty in private exactly six times in the past five years.
Here’s to lucky number seven.

Excerpt #3
We emerged into the dazzling sunlight of a hot summer Sunday and got settled in Donovan’s car. He pulled out his road atlas and plopped it into my lap. “You get to
navigate on this one.”
I flipped it open in surprise. Considering his ingrained aversion to asking anyone for directions, this was a sign of great progress.
He started the engine. “If we get lost, it’s on your head, Nancy Drew.”
I glared at him. “Stop calling me that.”
“Nancy, Nancy, Nancy,” he mocked.
Oh, you’re real mature,” I said, but he continued with his mockery. I knew he needed an outlet, a little levity, something—especially after all the grave, life-changing information we’d just gotten. I was beginning to learn his patterns. He would need to munch on something, and he
wouldn’t be able to discuss anything seriously for a couple of hours at least. Good thing we had snacks in the car and a five-hour drive ahead of us.
“Fine. Be that way.” I told him the first few turns, taking us past the big Sears on Irving Park Road and following the signs so we could merge onto Interstate 90/94. Eventually, since I wasn’t afraid to read a map—unlike some people—I knew we’d meet up with 55 South, which would take us all the way to Missouri.
But, as soon as Donovan looked comfortable with the roads, I dug through my purse for the cassette I’d been saving for just such an occasion, and I popped it in. As the opening strains of the Bee Gees’s hit “Stayin’ Alive” came on, I had the satisfaction of seeing Donovan make a disgusted face and reach to turn it off.
I batted his hand away from the cassette deck. “Do you really think disco is a fad?” I said, mimicking Vicky from St. Cloud. Then I started singing along with the song’s chorus. I’d heard the lyrics about, oh, sixty thousand times since the movie came out. I knew every word.
“Uh! God, stop that!” he said, half laughing.
“What’s my name?” I asked him sweetly during an instrumental moment.
He shot me a dirty look. “Just cut it out.”
I sang along with the entire second verse. Loudly.
“Hell, Aurora. Stop.”
“What did you just say my name was?” I asked. Then, more threateningly, “You do realize that ‘How Deep Is Your Love’ is coming up next, right?”
He made a gagging sound that I took as a precursor to his inevitable surrender. I was right.
“Your name is Aurora, but I will strangle you with the long threads of tape that I’m going to yank out of my deck in about ten seconds if you don’t do it first.”
I snapped the “Saturday Night Fever” soundtrack out of the player.
“If you call me Nancy Drew again, you can expect a full hour of disco hits,” I threatened. “I can sing ‘If I Can’t Have You’ and ‘You Should Be Dancing’ and more. All of them a cappella. And, yeah, that’s a warning. Be scared.”
The look he gave me was nothing short of scathing but, a few minutes later, when I was studying the Illinois map in the middle of the atlas, I caught him glancing at me and smothering a laugh.
“What?” I said
He grinned. “Who knew you’d grow up to be such a weirdo…Aurora.”

Update 33% done

I had to stop and just breath a minute. So much has happened in the first third of the book its almost unbelievable. To begin with the basics: Denny landed an internship he could pass up and Kiera transfers colleges so they can stay together. They move thousands of miles away from home to Seattle. Denny's set them up to rent a room from Kellan a friend he made forever when he was an exchange student. It's obvious that Kiera has lead a sheltered life and not been exposed to much and leans heavily on Denny for security. Denny loves Kiera but also has clear ambition when it comes to his career. Kellan is the yummy bad boy man whore (we romantic woman will come to love/hate) with deep emotions. If you are thinking love-triangle you hit the nail on the head.

Denny's boss ask him to go out of town shortly after they arrive for a couple of months leaving Kiera all alone. Kiera being dependant on Denny doesn't fair too well with the separation and Kellan tries to help her as much as possible. In the mean time Denny is well career driven. His daily calls dwindle to the point that he doesn't call for a week. In the mean time Kiera has come to depend on Kellan and somewhere in the mix they start to have deeper feeling for each other. When Denny calls to inform Kiera he took a job where he was and it would be two years before they could be together again, she loses it. She left everything to be with him in a town where she knows no one and he abandons her there. She can't transfer schools again so in all her anger over Denny picking a job over her she ends it with him and hits the bottle heavy.

For the past month and a half Kiera and Kellan have been drawn to each other sharing such sexually charged intense moments and their feeling have escalated to an explosive boiling point. Time and time again Kellan has walked away from such moments because Kiera is his friends girl. But not anymore. He can't hold back and walk way and one passionate kiss turns into a night Kiera or Kellan can't walk away from. After their passionate night together all emotional hell breaks loose because Denny came home. He walked away from his job because he could leave his heart, Kiera.

Kellan is tormented by Denny's return. It's killing him to see them together. The bad boy has fallen and fallen hard for Kiera and doesn't' t deal very well with Denny back in the picture. To make thing even shitter for Kellan, Kiera fears that Kellan will tell Denny about their night together. Kellan for reason I don't understand yet has agreed to keep to himself. However, he spends a large amount of time lashing out at Kiera. When Kellan can no longer take watching Kiera from a distance and Kiera watching him, he makes the choice to leave. Which ignites the most realistic heated emotions and hottest love making I have had the pleasure to cry through. Only Kiera spoils it by breaking Kellan's heart.

If you haven't started this series WTF are you waiting on???

Excerpt

After a few minutes of Chris flipping through the channels with the remote while we eat, I have to break the silence again. “How was work? Where do you work, anyway?”
“I have a glamorous job roofing houses for RJ Roofing.” He leans back and rubs his stomach. “I’ve been there a couple of years. It’s not bad. They’re good people to work for.”
“That sounds horrible to me.”
He lifts one eyebrow.
“I’m terrified of heights. I couldn’t ever go up on a roof. Plus it has to be about a hundred and fifty degrees up there.”
He chuckles. “It is. And you come home covered in tar and dirt. But the pay’s good.”
“How long have you played the guitar?” I look down at my hands.
I can’t stop asking questions.
I hate that he won’t ask me his own questions even if I won’t answer them anyway.
He stretches both arms over his head and yawns. “About five years.”
I nod and tuck my hair back again.
“Here.” He reaches into his pocket and shoots me with a rubber band. “For your hair. It’s not going to stay behind your ears.” His smile’s easy.
Tonight, his eyes match his dark blue shirt. I like his chin length hair down. It makes the angles of his face softer. Faint stubble has grown on his chin. No wonder I’m obsessed with him. He’s hot.
My eyes make their way back to his, and I can tell he knows what I’m thinking. I shift to peer at the TV, feeling my pulse race. I ball my hair on top of my head and wrap the rubber band around it.
“Faith,” he mumbles.
I jerk around. “What did you say?”
“The tattoo on the back of your neck, it says hope and faith.”
I reach around with my hand, covering my tattoo. It’s a banner inside angel wings with our names on it. Hope and Faith. My sister and I got them last summer. It took me forever and five days to talk her into it. She got hers as a tramp stamp, thinking she could hide it. More people have seen hers than mine since her track pants sit low on her hips.
“Yeah.” I swallow my fight or flight instinct. “Do you have any tattoos?”
In one swift movement, he whips off his t-shirt. There, in the middle of his tan chest, beside a smear of paint, is a cross with two dates inscribed on it. One across, one down. Its intricate design has my fingers itching to touch. Instead, I crawl on my knees around the table to get a closer look.

EXCERPT #5

“Goodnight, Bonita.”
“Goodnight, Ralph.” I smiled and walked to my apartment’s door and put the right key in the lock.
“Wait! Who’s Ralph?”
I turned and regarded him. He looked confused. Gorgeous, delicious, but confused. I was so good at messing with Alpha boys. “Oh, gosh. I’m just an innocent Cheesehead.” I shrugged my shoulders, batted my eyes and pretended to swoon. “What do I know?”
“Apparently more than I gave you credit for,” he said.
“About time.” I opened the door to my place and stepped inside. “Thanks for—”
“What do I get when I figure it out?” He stared at me. “I mean—when I figure out the Ralph reference I should at least win a prize or something for my efforts.”
“You’re never going to figure it out.”
“Don’t underestimate me.”
“What kind of prize do you want?” I asked.
“I want to kiss you,” he said.
A shiver zipped up and down my spine. I thought about it for a moment. Realized he’d never find the right answer. He’d also lose all interest in me the more he drove me. He thought I was exotic. I knew I was boring. So my reply was easy.
“Yes, Alejandro,” I said. “Yes, you can kiss me if you figure it out.” I shut my door, leaned back against it and smiled.
Sophie: Two.
Alejandro: Zero.
But who was counting?


EXCERPT #2

I glanced at Alejandro who lay on his back on a table next to me also clad in a threadbare patient gown. Strangely, it suited him. His eyes widened as he watched what I was going through, most likely realizing—he was next. “Dr. Tung,” I said, “please be super gentle with the needles on my friend, Alejandro. He’s not here to heal. Or research. He’s just here to experience… life. I think.”
“Yes.” Dr. Tung gently stuck in a needle in Alex’s forehead. “Yin Tang. Third eye point.”
“Hey!” He jumped halfway off the table. “What are you doing? This feels weird.”
Dr. Tung put a hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him back down. “You have energy shut off from accident that happened about four years ago.”
“You were in an accident?” I asked.
“You’re not an official Angeleno until you’ve had your first fender-bender,” Alex said. “It’s practically a rite of passage.”
Dr. Tung stuck a needle in Alex’s chest and then—bam, bam, bam, three needles in his right ankle and foot. “You need to release that energy so chi flows. So life flows.”
“I’m not a human pin-cushion, you know?” He squirmed.
“Stop moving,” I said. “You’re going to screw up the needles. You don’t want to do that.”
Alex frowned but stopped fidgeting. “Fine. But, I’m doing this for you, Sophie.”
Dr. Tung stuck a few needles in his ear. And one in his nose.
He sneezed, which didn’t help matters. “Dammit!” He was filled with needles, half naked and wearing a stupid gown. He looked at me like a miserable puppy that was getting shots at the vet.
I started giggling. I knew it was wrong. Very wrong. But I couldn’t help it.
“Stop laughing,” Alex hissed. “You’re going to screw up the needles. God knows you don’t want to screw up the needles. Because we could actually be having a normal date.”
“But we’re not on a date,” I said.
“Whatever. We could be catching a movie. Going to a party. But no, we’re in Chinatown. And not for Dim Sum. We are quite possibly screwing up the needles.”
I couldn’t stop laughing. “Dr. Tung. Dr. Tung?”
“Yes?” he asked.
“I think Alejandro needs his Yin Tang opened a teensy bit more.”
Dr. Tung moved toward Alex and eyeballed his forehead. He twisted the needle deeper.
“Ow!” He hollered.
“I come back in fifteen minutes. You two be quiet. Do not scare other patients.” Dr. Tung quickly left the room.
“This is like hitting me with the kickball in middle school, isn’t it?” Alex asked. A grin grew on his face. “I think this means you like me.”
“Get over yourself,” I said.


EXCERPT #3

“Oscar Fuentes, you son-of-a bitch.” Javier held the baseball bat high in the air and slammed it down on a metal picnic table then continued to race toward us.
“Back off, Javier!” Oscar exclaimed.
“Fuck you, Oscar.” Javier bolted toward us. “You are not hurting that girl.”
I elbowed Oscar repeatedly. Most of my efforts connected with air. But a few jabs nailed his ribs. He grunted and slowed down for one long second.
I spotted Alejandro about fifty yards away with Nick right behind him. They raced like hell toward me. “Take care of my girl, Javier,” Alex hollered then jabbed his finger in the air toward Oscar. “I can see you, skinhead prick, and I’ll fucking kill you if you hurt one hair on her head.”
Basically after that all I heard were roars and grunts and thuds, the sounds of fists hitting flesh, a baseball bat hitting bodies, and concrete and bones cracking. Someone slugged Oscar and he released his grip on me.
I hit the ground and rolled on the grass and sand onto my side. Police sirens blared in the near distance. People shouted. I felt weak. I felt like a victim. Once again, I felt like a stupid girl.
A young, pretty Latina woman snagged my hand and hissed, “You’re next to a picnic table. Get under it—now. Hurry! We’ll hide you.”
I crawled under the table. She and her friends threw their backpacks, purses, a dog carrier, a sand-filled blanket and rolled up paper trash bags from their day at the beach on top of me.
I laid on the sand and dirt under the table until I heard the cops cuff Oscar and take him away, in spite of his protests. I huddled there while I heard a Venice police officer tell the rest of Oscar’s gang to leave and instruct the crowd to disperse. Another officer told Alex and Nick and Javier that they had not yet found me yet, but the bathrooms had been searched and were cleared.
The girl who helped me hide didn’t abandon me. She and her friends pretended it was just another day at the beach as they chatted about celebrity gossip, their own gossip, what movies they’d seen and who was hooking up with whom. At one point I pinched her ankle.
She bent down like she was tying her shoe.
“Can I leave?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Oscar’s gang, the Lowriders, always keep a lookout on the scene. Wait a bit longer.”
“Thank you. Would you tell my friends who are looking for me that I’m okay?”
She shook her head. “Boyfriends and friends always give it away. You gotta think like the bad guys right now.”
Alejandro, Nick and Javier paced back and forth looking for me. I felt like a shithead for not telling Alex where I was. But when I asked the girl again, she whispered a story to me. A story about a girl that Oscar’s gang had fucked up about five years ago. That girl’s name was Tatiana. And that girl was dead.
It had to be after eight p.m. It was getting dark outside. Alejandro, his friends and Javier were still searching for me. Pacing the boardwalk, checking storefronts, asking folks if they had seen the confrontation. I squeezed my savior’s leg. She bent down under the table and looked at me. “I think it’s okay for you to go.”
“I can’t even find the words to thank you for hiding me,” I said. “What’s your name?”
“You’re welcome,” she said. “My name’s Gabriella. I was Tatiana’s friend.”
Two more female faces popped under the picnic table. “Hey,” I said. “I’m Sophie. You are?”
One girl extended her hand toward me. “Rosie—Tatiana’s friend.” She shook my hand.
“I’m Naomi—Tatiana’s friend,” another girl said and handed me a bottle of water. I cracked it open, took a long slug and crawled out from under the table. We all hugged and I started crying. Then the rest of the girls followed suit. I was covered in mud, sand and was completely disgusting.
“Sophie?” Alejandro said.
I turned and saw him. He stood next to Nick and Nathan and Javier. Their jaws dropped.
“Sophie!” Alejandro raced toward me, grabbed me around the waist and pulled me tight into his chest. He kissed the top of my head. Placed his hands on either side of my face and tilted my head up as he bent his down. “Are you okay? Are you all right?”
“I’m okay,” I said. “These girls hid me. They protected me.”


EXCERPT #4

“Go out with me, for real,” he said. “Not a yoga class or a walk on fire event, or a palm reading.”
I really wanted to say, yes. But, this would take us to a different place.
“We are so perfect right now,” I said. “I don’t want to screw up our relationship. I don’t want—”
He pulled me toward him and kissed me. One hand cradled the back of my head. He ran his fingers through my hair with his other hand. His lips were full and insistent. His tongue slipped inside my mouth like it was meant to be there. Tempting me. Claiming me. He tasted sweet.
And suddenly I felt like I was falling all over again. I leaned back against my front door as his lips moved from my mouth, trailing kisses down my face, down my neck.
“Sophie,” he breathed in my name. Then kissed me hard on the lips, his tongue exploring my mouth. One strong arm wrapped around my waist as he lifted me up a few inches off the ground toward him, my T-shirt scrunching up toward my breasts, my bared abdominal skin pressed tight against his thin T-shirt.
“Life is short, Sophie Marie Priebe. We are not perfect people. We don’t know how much time we will have together.”
He had no idea how scary prophetic he was being.
“But I will guarantee you this. We have something far more special than the majority of people. Consider this to be your official invitation—” His warm breath and the pressure of his full lips brought a flush to my skin. His hand traced down my neck toward the top of my T-shirt. He pulled the neckline back as he kissed my shoulder.
Shivers raced up and down my arms. “This is me. Officially asking you, Sophie, to, please, go out with me.” He tucked strands of my hair behind my ear. Kissed my ear. Kissed my hair. Kissed my shoulder.
“Yes, Alejandro. Yes, I will go out with you.” I tried to find my footing. Which was a little hard to do when he was still holding me six inches above the ground.
Gidget barked and I heard a kitchen window slam shut, muffling her yips.
“Voyeurs,” I said to Alejandro as his lips brushed mine.
He frowned. And slowly let me slide down his body. His gorgeous face. His dimpled chin. I closed my eyes because I just wanted to feel him: His muscular solid chest. His tight abs. His hardness. When my feet hit the ground, he backed away from me.
I swayed for a moment and wanted to say, “Fuck you, caution. Screw you, MS! You can’t own me. This is my time!”
“Gimme Shelter” blared from Alex’s phone. I opened my eyes and reached for him, but he was standing a couple feet away from me the sidewalk. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“Someone needs a Driver. I can’t believe it. Not tonight.” He stared at his phone.
“You’re leaving?”
“Sorry, Bonita. It’s important. I made a promise. I’ve gotta go.” He jogged toward his Jeep.
“Okay,” I said as my knees felt weak and I leaned against my door.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.” He got into his Jeep and drove away.


EXCERPT #5

Alex grinned at me and pushed the phone away from our faces for a second. “I’ve got this,” he whispered. Pulled my hand that held the phone close to his face. “Yes, Bubby Sophie.”
“Perfect, Alejandro,” Nana said. “Are you in a romance with my granddaughter? You do know she is a shiksa, yes? It seems many young men of the Jewish faith will happily date shiksas, but not be serious about marrying them. Will this be a problem for you in the future?”
“Nana!” I hollered and collapsed back into my seat. I face palmed my hand into my forehead in sheer humiliation that only a family member could initiate.
Alejandro ran his finger over my cheek and traced my jaw. His fingers landed squarely under my chin that was collapsed in my hands on my chest. He gently lifted my head up. “Put the phone back toward me,” he whispered.
I blushed but did as he asked.
“Bubby Sophie?” he asked.
“I thought for a second I lost you.”
“You’re not going to lose me, Bubby. In fact, I can’t wait to meet you some day soon. In regards to your shiksa granddaughter? I’m crazy about her Wisconsin accent—”
“What accent?” I slapped Alejandro’s thigh with my free hand. He caught my hand and interwove his fingers between mine and pulled me close to him. Which meant I was practically sitting in his lap.
A man in a truck in the next lane honked, leered and said, “Get a room!”
I glared at him. “Get a life!” I struggled to flip him my middle finger but it was currently engaged and wrapped tightly next to Alejandro’s middle finger. He squeezed my hand and winked at me. “Ignore the assholes,” he whispered into my ear and turned back toward the phone. “I adore your granddaughter’s snarky sense of humor…”
I stuck my tongue out at him.
“… her beautiful dairy queen face, the fact that she’s girlie but still thinks football is important and her sheer determination to get things done. So, no, I don’t care that she’s a shiksa. I also don’t care that she’s stubborn and that she’s probably going to test me even further once I get off the phone with you. Can you live with that, Bubby Sophie?”
“Yes,” Nana said. “You seem like a nice young man, and I greatly appreciate you letting me practice my foreign language skills with you.”
“You’re welcome.” Alejandro smiled at me.
“I must run or I’ll be late for the sing-along in the lobby. We’re performing a medley of Michael Jackson songs this week.”
“It’s my honor to have made your acquaintance,” Alejandro said.
“And you, Alejandro Maxwell Levine.”
I leaned into the phone. “I love you, Nana.”
“I love you back, my favorite granddaughter.”
“I’m your only granddaughter.”
“I know,” she said. “Which is number six on my top ten reasons why I love you the most.”
She paused for a moment and I heard her breathing, hard and raspy into the phone. “Nana? You okay?”
“Never better. Just promise me one thing?”
“What?” I asked.
“Life is full of mysteries, odd twists and turns. You think you’re traveling down one road only to discover you veered off and venturing down another. One that is completely unknown. And the new road has no fancy navigation system, no streetlights, or signs and you have no reception on your fancy phone. What do you do? Tell me, Sophie. What do you do?”
Alejandro squeezed my hand. He gazed into my eyes for a second. Smiled. Then turned his eyes back on the road. A lock of his black-brown hair escaped from behind his ear and fell onto his high, sharp cheekbone. He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed it. Softly. Tenderly. I broke out in chills. Everywhere. “What should I do, Nana?”
“Be kind,” she said. “Just be kind to each other.”
“Okay,” I said.
But she’d already hung up.

Star stats:
Jaded Adult: 5 Stars
Forever Young: 5 Stars
Over All: 5 Stars

I was mesmerized by the cover the first time I laid eyes on it. The brilliant blue coloring and the sculpted “t” in the shape of cross with an eerie smoke rising from the luring sub-text, “Sometimes death is just the beginning…” and finding it was to cress the cross. I was sold and have to read the story beneath such an eye catching cover.

True to the title Lindsey was caught in the between. In a cosmos where she was not tethered to earth nor bound to heaven. Caught in a vast space that defies the logic and sets her memories free allowing her to open her heart and put her on a path that derails her from her destiny. Or does it?

After a tragic car accident Lindsey’s soul is separated from her body where Aiden MacRae a transporter assigned to accompany her to the gates of heaven. With the chains that bound her to earth and the compassion she carries in her heart loosened by the acceptance of death Lindsey finds herself falling for the very transporter taking her from her family and friends she loves. Death as scary as it sounds is peaceful, you are encircled in the ultimate love and the author successfully articulates the soul letting go what it cannot change and still mourn the loss while opening Lindsey’s heart for the true love mate God designed for her.

Time in the between cannot be measured as time in heaven has no measure. One day can feel as a thousand while one second or minute can feel as only a day. No accurate measure of time can be determined though in earthly time it may have been only seconds or minutes in Lindsey’s death. Although to Lindsey and Aiden the measure of time was not enough. The time they did spend together was intimate in the ways of truly knowing the person you are bound to. The spent time sharing their memories growing the love God ordained. Only their time together is violently ended without warning after they are bound together as husband and wife in an old fashion hand-fasting. Will Lindsey return to her husband Aiden? Will Aiden find a way to earth to be with his bride?

In this beautifully woven story of love as you read; your heart will open and your mind will soar right along with Lindsey and Aiden. You will cry, laugh and sigh while eager to turn the page. And when the story ends it will leave you wanting more of Lindsey and Aiden’s story of love that crosses the great expanse.

My only complaint is the ending felt rush compared to the rest of the story. However, I was elated to learn that Lindsey and Aiden’s story will continue in the sequel Hell Transporter.

Recommend: Adult & Young Adult Reader of Paranormal Romance & Life after Death

Star stats:
Jaded Adult: 5 Stars
Forever Young: 5 Stars
Over All: 5 Stars
Genre: Mature Young Adult, New Adult, Adults, Woman's Fiction, Chic-lit, Realistic, Contemporary, Romance
My Book Boyfriend : Toss-up between Jackson and Carter!
Most Like Me or who I want to be: Whitney. She a great friend!

I'll admit that most time I pass over Author's Notes and the like because I'm in such a rush to start the book I'm reading and find my escape deep in the pages. But this time I was stopped dead in my tracks by the inspiration of this book - “The Story” by Brandi Carlile. If you haven't heard this song before, I agree with the author; "LISTEN TO IT NOW" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dYyn2rZ_QYI I first fell in love with this song when Callie played by Sara Ramirez sang it on Grey's Anatomy http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nJmOU6exdEg

When I looked the book up on Goodreads I thought it was a single, and for the record; for the part it can be read as one. After all with it being a full length novel it would seem silly for Wade to list it as 2.5. However, I think it would cut down on the confusion to call it a "Companion Novel (Preservation Series, #2.5). I can only imagine the flack this fast growing author must be getting over this.

Now having read both Preservation and Reservation from the Preservation Series I could wait to sink my imagination into this installment. I fell in love with the Preservation Series from the first word in the first book. But after I read the last word in Reservation, I knew this series wasn't over not yet. Not by a long shot, Wade couldn't leave Carter hanging in the wind. It just didn't feel over. And luck me and all the fans of this outstanding series... it's not over!

Part 1

The book starts off with a road trip to Disney to escape the harsh reality of what this time of year will bring , heartache and buried memories. I couldn't help but feel for Emma and the loss of her sister she is still struggling to deal with a year later. To compound her loss her boyfriend (Chris) cheated on her the day her sister died and dumped her the day her sister was buried. Then to add insult to injury he show up on the while she's dealing the best she can with the first anniversary all of all her misery breaks into her apartment then insults Jackson.

Jackson, Jackson, Jackson... The obvious bad boy for some reason we will come to love. First off, he share a secret with Emma about the night her sister died at the hands of a drunk driver. He confesses his love for Emma. But can his bad boy can't keep it in his pants way be too much for Emma to confess in turn the feeling she has been hiding for him? I'm tied up in utter knots riding the fence between love and hate for Jackson and if I think these two will be able to pull it together.

Part 2

Wow! Really what can you expect me to say. If I thought I was on the fence before now I'm dangling on a cliffs edge. Part two blew my mind. After Emma pretty much told Jackson she couldn't be with a man whore. Weeks later she decides that it no longer matters if he is a man whore because she loves him. Then has the audacity to trip because he moved on thinking she couldn't love him because of his past and runs again.

Once Emma gets over herself and Jackson has found himself in a heap of depression everything turns around for the couple and the sex between them is explosive. Only Emma has real trust issues with Jackson. After all, his past indicates to Emma she's on borrowed time Jackson. But I can't put all the blame of their relationship ending on Jackson no matter what huge ass he made of himself sharing Emma's secrets with the whole bar. I was Jackson after all who chose in the end to break up with Emma. Even Jackson knew he was a man whore and his sly sneaking around planning a future without Emma's knowledge would cause her to think he cheated. Hell, I would assume the same if a half dressed stripper showed up in the middle of our lovemaking beating on the door like a crazed mad woman.

On the flip side this is where my beloved "Carter" makes his appearance. YEAH! I know Emma has her damaged baggage going on and not much focus is being placed on Carter but from between the line you get this feeling that more is going on between Whitney and Carter than the story tells. Which leads me to hoping that Carter will have his HEA in book three (3) of the series.

Part 3

Heartache and disbelief surrounded me in the final chapters of Jackson and Emma's tale. Jackson's desperate attempts Emma's forgiveness is met by slammed doors, and ignored calls. Crushed by Jackson's public admission of Emma demons and vivid memories of Jackson, Emma finds herself in the same state as Jackson. A chance encounter in the bathroom brings Emma to her knees and Jackson on the run.

I can't say much more because I fear I have already let too much out of the bag already. However I loved the ending with tears in my eyes. My hope is that all these characters will have a follow up and wish for many many more books in this series!

Recommended for: Ages 17 and up

Ugh! Careful what you bitch about....

I got my desire for a longer story only to be disappointed in the end. The book is billed for the new-adult audience however it reads like a young-adult book. To make things blow the author was stuck on beating us to death with the details repeatedly.

It a super sweet love story you might find your thirteen year old going crazy about however your seventeen year old might vomit up all the sugar sweetness. I guess it was nice to take a break from all the alpha males and spend time with the sweet hearts.

I'll keep following the series just to see where it goes and if the writing improves especially now that the author has given up on trying to take my blood!

So I was in Luck a goodread reader was nice enough to lend me their amazon copy for two weeks. Thanks Chicka! Glad I was able to finish this book!

I like short stories don't get me wrong. What I can't stand is when an author writes a book and then break it up into installments then charges the readers out the ass for part of the book. I don't know any hard working person who is willing to pay $2.99 for such short stories from an unknown author!

I will never purchase a book written by this author unless it's a full book with a reasonably priced. Considering how greedy the author is with her book breakdowns I just never see that happening. If you (Blake) want a better following STOP FUCKING WITH READERS & RELEASE THE WHOLE BOOK FOR THAT DAMN PRICE!!!

However, if a goodread friend is up to loaning a copy because they have the cash to waste I might visit other works.

Fuck! Sorry but $2.99 for a short story! You have got to be kidding me. I shall not lie, had one of my crazy ass friend not had the cash this series would never see light in my circle. Wow, this author is delusional and must think so much of herself to sell her writing at a higher going rate than most of the top established authors who write entire books and sell it as one!

As disgusted as I am with the extreme price tag I'm a big enough woman (no pun intended) to admit that the middle (second installment of one fucking book) was better than the first book (the beginning in other words). The author brought more emotions into play which helps the reader star to spark an interest in the characters. But at such a hefty cost unless one of my friends can loan me The Billionaire's Desire 3: Ultimate Bliss I never learn the surprise destination and what the future holds for Sarah and Joshua.

I would not recommend this series to anyone due to the high price tag. However, if the author were to join all three books into one novella and sell it at a reasonable rate (under $2.99) ONLY then would I recommend. DO NOT WASTE YOUR HARD EARNED DOLLARS!!!

In the past you wouldn't catch me reading a sort story. I just felt they were a waste of money. But the past year with so many independent authors more and more shots are surfacing and most are surprisingly decent. I find now they are a great distraction while waiting for appointments or something quick before bed.The Billionaire's Desire was no different. I enjoyed it very much but it was off.

I just didn't feel pull of attraction between Sarah and Joshua. When they had their naughty freak moment in the trains washroom it I found myself cringing instead sighing. The warring desire for the two to rut was lacking. Then to add insult to injury the author conveyed that Joshua was a domineering lover in the end missed it big time. He seemed more commanding. Like a big time boss who want to play with a new toy and can use power and money to get what he desires. Ha! Intending a pun realization has just dawned.

Not having had the chance to build an affinity to any of the characters I find myself eager to read The Billionaire's Desire 2: Dubai Confidential eager to see what the next thirty (30) days has to offer in this agreement. After all, if punishment is a good fucking this is going to be one hell of ride.

After reading all the of The Billionaire's Desire I had to see if any of my friends had this sequel and lady luck was on my side. I do enjoy the stories but I just can't bring myself to recommend anyone purchase his/her own copy. I suggest you put out fillers and see if anyone can loan you their copy. As much as I enjoy the story there is no way in hell I will purchase the series. If a friend has the next book I will continue if not, I will never know how it ends. I don't know any hard working person who is willing to pay $2.99 for such short stories from an unknown author. Want a better following STOP FUCKING WITH READERS & RELEASE THE WHOLE BOOK FOR THAT DAMN PRICE!

Let me make matters worse and bitch about the last installment also being separate charge of $2.99. What the fuck was she thinking. Again, had a friend not loaned me their copy (what's funny is Amazon gives you 2weeks to read these 5 minute books) of The Billionaire's Desire 3: Ultimate Bliss I would have never learned the surprises was a visit to see Momma 'Bunny'.

The third installment (or should I say ending of the novella) again bring more players into action but the emotions that began to spark in the The Billionaire's Desire 2: Dubai Confidential (or the middle of the novella) were rained all over. I just don't love any of the characters. That's doesn't mean I didn't enjoying reading this novella even if the author is trying to bleed us cash dry.
To be honest I would have enjoyed all three of shorts had the author just sold it as the novella it was intended and did it for a reasonable price say $0.99. It's just not worth $5.98 (or $8.97 if the first book is taken off the free market) for something around 160- 180 pages as a whole.

What the hell is wrong with me this week? It's killing me that it took me all day to force myself to read a book that on a traveling day would take me an hour to read tops. Again, I picked a book that was just missing it's stuffing. Don't get me wrong Remember This is a quarter decent read for a short story. However, I got the feeling the author was trying way too hard to get the laugh and flat out dropped the twist.

It was clear from the beginning that the husbands, (whose name I didn't bother to remember) regained his memory fairly quickly. However, I did make the assumption it would turn out to be a hoax the entire time. In my defense, it was written with an air of a man seeking retaliation for being hit by his wife (whose name I also failed to learn) with a wine bottle. So when the reveal came that his memory was returned in Mexico I just rolled my eyes. I called bull shit on the whole memory-loss.

Would I recommend it?? If you're looking for a laugh. It will be interesting to watch this author grow because right out the gate she's strong at writing she just need to developed the twists and turns we love so much!

To be honest I'm surprised this short story has gained such high ratings. I have been reading independently published books for so long I have got to the point of overlooking grammar and spelling errors if the storyline hooks me line and sinker.

'The Professor' just fell flat. The story moved to quick to build any apathy for the characters. In addition, the erotic scenes felt as if they were written by an inexperienced teenage dipping into the naughty pool.

Yeah, I know I'm not one to talk. I can read and experience the naughty but I'll be damned if I would be able to write the experience. Have no fears I'm not throwing in the towel just yet. I'm going to give 'Betrayed' book #2 in The Professor Trilogy a chance and see if it moves me.

Again I find myself utterly shocked at the high rating this series is getting. Betrayed was a bit longer than its predecessor, however for me it gave off the feeling of a fifth grader masquerading as an adult trying to write adult literature with an erotic touch.

I just couldn't get past the astronomical use of 'I said, He said and I said, She said' REPEATVELY within the same text. That said the plot has some serious potential, it does but ONLY with some careful editing, filling in and rounding of the characters.

Will I finish this trilogy? After waging war with myself taking an entire day to read two short stories, I will have to pass. However, if I run across someone who has bothered to read the final installment I may ask how it ends if I remember.