Stockholm Syndromance
Ada Scott
Publication date: November 4th 2016
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Suspense
He doesn’t have to keep me tied up, but I hope he does…
Eliana
My father kept me locked away from the world, my only purpose in life was to stand in the background while he campaigned for President, or to be sold like a slave to cement his old alliances as a Mafia hitman. All I’ve ever known was his contempt and my loneliness.Then my deepest darkest fantasy kicked my door down and dragged me off into the night.
He’s the first person I ever met who wasn’t afraid of my father. He’s a machine of war, and he’s making me so… damn… hot.
Eric
The contract is simple: abduct the daughter of Jace Barlow’s nemesis and deliver her safely.I’m a professional. She’s off limits… but this chick is the hottest kind of crazy. I never met a woman who could take everything I had to give and beg for more, and now I’m dangerously close to addicted.
I need to concentrate on keeping us alive before her father’s goons, the Feds, the cops or the biker gang catch up with us, but the way she licks my gun has me thinking maybe nothing else matters if I can’t have her wrapped around me forever.
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—
EXCERPT:
I wrapped the towel around myself, then undid it and wrapped it around me again, a little lower, tucking the corner in to keep it tight. It was no push-up bra, but the effect was the same.
Eric had cleared the remains of our meal away and a beam of early morning sunlight had fallen across the covers while I showered. Eric had set up a blanket and a pillow on the couch, where he was reclining with his hands behind his head while he waited for me, still wearing only his boxers. He paused halfway through standing up as he took in the sight of me wearing nothing but a towel that was barely big enough to come down to my thighs.
“Where’s your clothes?”
“They’re dirty.”
He crossed the room slowly in my direction, his every muscle-bound movement was poetry in motion. My knees felt weak.
Even after the shower, I could feel the heat of him when he stood close. A drop of water escaped my hair and I felt it cutting a path down my chest, and over the upper swell of my breast. Looking up into his eyes, I could see him following that path and I smiled at the hint that he was every bit as transfixed by my softer curves as I was by his firm ones. I could feel myself being pulled to him, as if the cells of my body might detach and start flowing across the short distance between us if one of us didn’t do something about this unacceptable lack of physical contact.
“Why don’t you kiss me?” I asked.
His lips parted, then he licked them before he spoke without conviction. “That’s… not my job. You should get dressed.”
“What is your job?”
“I’m going to deliver you to my employer,” he said.
“Alive?”
“If I can.”
“Well… did he say you weren’t allowed to have any… fun along the way?”
My heart was back in my throat, my breath shaking again. It felt like it was beating so hard that my breasts were wobbling with every beat. Could he see how excited he was making me? Would he give me what I needed while we had this gift of time together?
“You don’t know what you’re asking…”
Author Bio:
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A former office drone, a former nurse, I now spend every waking moment doing what I love, creating and publishing these steamy stories about bad boys from the mafia, motorcycle clubs, and mma that make me, and hopefully you, weak at the knees! Anywhere a bad boy can be found, I'll be there taking notes and making it even sexier :)
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Indelible: Beneath His Ink COVER REVEAL
INDELIBLE: BENEATH HIS INK
December 12th, 2016
Former Marine, Trent Reed, is in desperate need of a Hail Mary.
With each failed attempt to convince his woman to pack up and move to Kentucky, his past finds some new way to rear its ugly head. But when his pregnant ex plows into his life, all hell breaks loose—unearthing parts of his past he wished would stay buried.
Two weeks of vacation with her man? Hell yeah, that is exactly what Teal Lofton’s libido needs. And after surviving seven months apart, their reunion doesn’t disappoint. What she didn’t account for was an unfortunate encounter with people from Trent’s past.
A racist, a druggie, and a double-barreled shotgun culminate into a vacation that will alter the course of her life forever.
December 12th, 2016
Indelible is coming to audio soon!
Inevitable: Love & War
Last night was something she’d never done before. Regardless, a piece of Teal had now shaken loose and Trent was to credit for it. She hadn’t held back, and learned there was a true difference between sex and making love. She’d thought there was little enjoyment in mindless sex versus sex with someone you loved. However, Teal had spent her life looking for the man who’d make her fall apart in bed. How ironic was it that she’d finally found him and he wanted nothing to do with her.
Trent wandered over. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Nothing, I need some space. Your big ass presence takes up everything, from space to breathing air.” Teal was about to move away when he reached for her and pulled her back.
“I don’t get you. If I said I don’t want to talk about something, you get a pissy ass attitude. What if I told you I wanted to talk about the way you were too scared to fuck me with the lights on last night?” He released her when she yanked away. Undeterred, Trent continued. “Let’s talk about that.”
Teal moved her hands and turned to Trent. “No, I’ve never had a one night stand. So excuse the fuck out of me for not knowing the rules.” Fuck it, if there is an open invitation at Dana and Lee’s, I’ll accept. When she found her coat, she shoved her arms in the sleeves and hobbled to the door as she zipped up. Yanking the door open, she started to take a step forward when Trent’s arms wrapped around her. “Get your damned hands off me!” she screeched.
Trent let her go and pushed her against the wall. “Stop fucking overreacting. I know it’s a sore spot for you, that’s why I brought it up—tit for tat.”
“This might be hard to believe, but the fact I’m not a slut is not a sore spot.” Teal removed her coat. Still, she eyed the door, wishing she could leave.
“Okay,” he said disbelievingly.
Uncomfortable under his probing gaze, Teal placed a hand on her hip. “What?”
“You think you’re fat. You have issues with your body, and that’s why you turned off the lights.”
Teal fought the urge to knee Trent in the sac. She felt a sickening wave of acid creep up her throat at the clarity in his eyes. He truly believed his words. Already she could tell that she wouldn’t be able to convince him otherwise. Of course, he’d hit the nail on the head.
“You might be considered slightly overweight by society’s standards, but I don’t know why women seem to want to be skinny. Not every man wants that shit.”
“That’s what you all say until a beautiful, thin woman bats her lashes at you,” Teal knew all too well how men said they wanted a woman with a thick ass and then left for a slimmer, sexier woman. “And then you are chasing skinny mini’s ass while women like me are left to pick our self-esteem up off the ground.”
Trent looked nonplussed. “If you can’t believe the truth, I can’t help you.” He shook his head and went back to his damn bag.
Maybe he was telling the truth, and she was the one who needed to adjust her beliefs. “Fine.” He stopped moving. His head turned but his eyes didn’t meet hers. “I do have issues with my weight and the fact that my skin is darker than most. I don’t like parts of me and I—I can’t change them.” He faced her. “I mean I can change my weight, but I feel like if I do that then I am admitting that something is wrong with me and that I’m not good enough.” She swallowed hard and shook her head. “You wouldn’t get it.” How could he? He looked like a blond God. Hell, he could play Thor in a movie and get away with it.
“I wouldn’t?” he asked. There was an odd edge to his voice that she caught but didn’t understand. “From what I understand,” he ran his hand threw his shoulder length blond hair, “after you graduated college, you thought that would be enough to make you forget you weren’t like everyone else.”
She shifted, feeling uncomfortable.
“Then your boss didn’t acknowledge your hard work, so everything you’d done to be a better person was for nothing—you still felt like nothing.” His face was soft and his voice was full of care.
This wasn’t the Trent she was used to seeing, but she liked it. Even as he dissected her fears—she really liked him. Then she realized something.
“How do you know?” She moved to the bed and sat down. She wanted him to come to her and talk, but she wasn’t even sure he was going to open up to her.
His eyes fluttered closed and his throat worked as if he was going to speak.
“Come sit next to me.” When he did, she leaned back and rested on the pillow. She waited without speaking. He hadn’t rushed her, so she’d give him the same courtesy.
A sharp breath left his lips before he started to speak. “Her name is Harper and she had an issue with the flag because she’s black.”
Teal bolted upright in surprise. “I wouldn’t have guessed that, but it makes sense that she left now.” She sat back thinking of each time she’d caught him looking at her appraisingly.
“Why?”
His voice was hard and she could feel him pulling away. But she wasn’t deterred. “Okay, I don’t know about the situation when she left the first time, but if you think about the second time, she was right to do so.” He started to speak, but she cut him off. “Imagine what she saw. Imagine she brings her baby to see his daddy and she has to worry about you hurting him—”
He sat up so fast, the bed jostled. “I’d never fucking hurt my kid!” She reached for him but he pulled away and stood. “When she first left me she didn’t even give a fuck that her father told her I was beneath her. She said she didn’t want to end up with the life I had.” Trent’s face was so red that she thought he was about to explode, punch a wall, or both.
“Trent—”
“And then when she came back, she acted as if she was still better than me. I worked hard my whole fucking life,” he paced back and forth his hands flexing and then tightening into fists. “Fucking bitch! He is my kid, too. I created him. I-I still remember that night.” His emotions were all over the place. He’d gone from angry to nostalgic to furious. Teal sat up and stood.
“Trent,” she tried again and this time he turned to face her and it wasn’t anger she’d saw on his face, it was pain. “I—” She was at a loss for words. She’d never expected to see such raw emotion from him.
He shoved his hands through his hair again and cursed. “Fuck it. You don’t need to hear this shit.” His eyes flew back to her and now she saw passion.
So, he is the type who uses sex to hide from his emotions . . . great.
He took strong, deliberate steps until he was in front of her. When his lips crashed into hers, he pushed his tongue inside. If his mission was to distract her from the conversation, he was on the right track.
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I opened my mouth to speak, but realized in my haste to yell at him, I hadn’t thought of exactly what to say. Kale released a sigh and waited for the bombardment of words to be unleashed. I remained silent. I rammed my fingers through my hair, completely destroying the ponytail I’d perfected earlier. I pulled the elastic band off and allowed my hair to fall in layers down my back and around my face. Kale’s body stiffened, and his eyes morphed into burnished black pools of liquid. The muscles in his jaw clenched and released as he sniffed the air. He literally sniffed the air. I looked around, but I knew we were alone except for Jace, and he was doing a perimeter check. Did Kale smell me, or was there something else out there? Kale drifted closer to me. His face was washed in the light the moon reflected off the snow. Harsh lines tainted his face as I watched him battle the urge to close the space between us. Using my better judgment for once in my life, I calmly started to move backward, earning me a sly smirk from Kale.
“Um, is everything okay?” I stuttered, trying to tamp down my worry. Kale had never looked at me like that, not even when we kissed, and it scared me.
His face was beautiful, but as the moon cast a glow on his skin, I saw Kale was interested in more than just a kiss. Another icy breeze wafted past us, ruffling my hair and sending a shiver down my spine as I realized Kale could smell my hair. The wind blew my fragrance to him, branding his senses with my scent. Quickly, I reached for the elastic band on my wrist and went to control my freed locks. Kale groaned low in his throat, stopping midway through the action.
“Ah, but you smell so…” He took another deep breath and stared at me with his obsidian eyes.
I quickly pulled my hair up into a messy ponytail and pulled my hat over my head. I hoped it was enough, but it seemed all it took was one scent to release the predator in Kale. It was odd; Kale had never before cared about my scent. What was so different tonight?
“See, all better. Right?” I asked, with still a trace of fear.
He hadn’t stopped his lazy gait toward me, but I stopped as my back hit a tree.
“Kale, are you okay? I have never seen you like this.”
Kale smiled wider, revealing what he had spent so long hiding from me. His teeth were mesmerizingly white, and his fangs were revealed. They peeked at me, scaring me with the promise of pain. Kale’s smile shined brighter and made me want to walk toward him, but I didn't. I knew better.
Kale cocked his head to the side and asked, “You have never seen me like what?” His voice was like music to my ears, causing my heart to speed up. I could feel each and every beat as my heart pumped blood throughout my body.
“Like you want to eat her for dinner,” Jace said, out of nowhere, answering Kale’s question for me.
Immediately Kale’s vision cleared, and he shook his head. He looked at me, confused. Jace appeared in my line of sight just behind Kale with a silver stick in his hand. At first glance the stick looked harmless, but as my vision focused, I realized what Jace was holding.
“Jeez, no!” I ran between Kale and Jace. “What are you doing, and what is that?” I asked, unable to take my eyes off of that damned shiny stick.
“He means to kill me with it.” When Kale finally spoke, his voice was no longer like a Siren’s call, but its normal, warm timbre.
I sighed in relief and spared a glance back at him, examining his eyes. They were still dark, but nothing like before. Jace moved forward, and his footsteps on the fresh snow were eerily quiet. I watched his feet as they moved toward me, finally meeting their destination. He stopped and looked at me.
“I mean to protect you,” Jace said, giving me a hard, appraising look. “When was the last time you fed, diseased one?” Not once did he release me from his ice blue stare.
I flinched at the words that came from Jace’s mouth. Even though Kale had scared me, I wasn’t about to let Jace use that against him.
“Kale, his name is Kale,” I said.
Jace inclined his head, acknowledging my correction, but didn't modify his words. He waited for Kale to answer him.
I turned to Kale, torn between wanting to know the answer and waiting to respect his privacy. Kale stood still as a bronze statue, keeping his body taut and his eyes trained on the silver stake.
“It’s none of your concern,” Kale answered.
I pushed aside my disappointment. I thought I at least deserved the answer because I was the one who got the “hungry eyes” stare down. “Put the stake away,” I quietly commanded Jace. “Everything is okay now.”
Jace placed the stake on his belt under his coat without protest.
My worry slightly dissipated. I assumed if Jace thought Kale was a threat, he wouldn’t have put away his weapon so readily.
“So, Princezná, what’s the plan?”
The series is now complete!! Check out Few Are Angels!
War is raging between the Immortals and the Dark Prince’s army of half-breed vampires — and gifted Ella finds herself at the center. Can renegade half-breed vampire Kale keep her safe as their forbidden love awakens?
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Ink and Bone by Skyla Madi
Ink and Bone
Skyla Madi
(New York Crime Kings #5)
Published by: Limitless Publishing
Publication date: November 16th 2016
Genres: New Adult, Romance
Amidst the chaos of my life, I’ve realized that not all wars can be won.
I see it now.
My stubbornness was peeled away, allowing me to see through my unrealistic desire to take down a powerful criminal empire.
I see it…and it’s too late.
I never could turn my back on family—even when I know I should.
It would have been okay. It should have been okay…but it wasn’t, and now the stain of betrayal is too prominent to ignore.
I blame my brother…
I blame my friend…
…I blame myself
![Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000447_00006]](http://www.xpressobooktours.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/3/2016/10/INK-BONE-final-PAPERBACK.jpg)
*Designed by Deranged Doctor Design*
Author Bio:
Skyla Madi is an Australian writer from Brisbane, Queensland.
She started her writing career fresh out of high school and at 21 she is a giver of both real and fictional life.
Madi is an Aquarian, lover of the written word and author of the #1 BESTSELLING Consumed trilogy.
Inevitable: Love & War | A peek at Teal and Trent
Trent loved watching a woman get undressed.
“Umm, sure.” She made her way over to the light.
Just as she reached to turn it off, Trent said, “Hell no. I want to see your body.” There was nothing more erotic than watching a woman unwrap the gift she was about to give him. He wanted to see every piece of skin hidden beneath his clothes she had on. The thought of it had him pushing into his hand harder.
Teal took a deep breath and shook her head. “I like the lights off.” She picked up the lamp and moved it away from the bed, dimming the area.
Her hesitance didn’t bother him one bit. He was used to it. He liked bigger women, and as a result, he’d had to soothe a few body image issues over the years. Trent stood, awkwardly adjusting his junk, and headed over to Teal.
“If I wasn’t attracted to you, I wouldn’t fuck you. This isn’t something I’m doing out of pity. I’m horny, you’re horny, and I want to taste every damned inch of you before plopping your little ass on my dick and watching you ride me. This isn’t happening for any reason other than the fact I want you exactly how you are.” Trent couldn’t even blame his words on the whiskey. He’d been intrigued and annoyed by Teal the second he laid eyes on her.
“It isn’t just about that.” Teal crossed her arms over her chest and Trent knocked them down. Flabbergasted, she started to open her mouth before Trent picked her up fireman style—watching her knee—and carried her back to the bed.
Gently flipping her over, he laid on top of her. Steeling his voice he said, “I’m going to see and taste every inch of you.” He leaned in and nipped her bottom lip. “Then, I’ll devour each imperfection you think you have.”
#1 bestselling follow up to Incarcerated: Letters to Inmate 92510
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What Starts As An Accident Turns to Love
sending Teal and Trent on an inevitable course of self-discovery and passion like they’ve never experienced before.
Happy Halloween | Teaser Tuesday | In The Dark
“Where in the hell did you learn to throw knives?” Irish asked, counting her knives in the tree. She’d made all of her throws and to add insult to injury, she landed each of her knives on top of his, except one—the one he’d missed.
He’d actually lost the wager.
She sat down close to the mouth of the cave and looked to him. “A race nearly extinct, remember? When you are in hiding, you learn how to protect yourself. Plus, there wasn’t much else to do.”
Her words sobered him up a bit. He was still amazed at her ability, but he felt like hell for the reason she’d ever needed to learn in the first place. Her kind was hunted and killed off by his kind in the past.
“Now,” she looked up at him, “you’ll teach me to kiss.”
“I—uh . . .” He scratched his head and backed away.
“You, uh . . . promised.” Her eyes narrowed. “Is that the kind of man you are? One who reneges on a deal?”
He hadn’t thought she’d win the bet. Crossing his arms over the expanse of his chest, he huffed. “Why do you need to learn now?” He gestured around. “Here of all places?” Maybe he could stall. Just the thought of his lips on hers had him ready to explode in his pants. But she was firmly on the Hands Off Irish list. The first reason being, she was promised to another man. The second reason being, she was untouched.
“Why not now? There’s nothing else to do but wait.”
He took a deep breath and wondered if it made him a bastard to want to be the man who taught her to kiss. There was something erotic about kissing. Irish had to banish that idea from his head because there was no damned way he was teaching her to kiss. “You should be preparing for what’s to come.”
Her blonde brow arched. “If that knife competition didn’t convince you I’m capable of taking care of myself, then maybe you forgot when you first saw me on the isle, when I had just gutted a man from his privates to his neck.” She raised her chin, daring him to say anything.
“Lesson one: If you want a man to kiss you, you don’t talk about slicing anyone’s balls.” She nodded emphatically and he didn’t have the heart to tell her he was only kidding. He pushed off the wall, strode over, and sat down in front of her.
She was biting her lips—most likely a nervous gesture—and while he found it endearing, he reached up and pulled the puffy lip from between her teeth.
“Lesson two: Don’t damage the goods.” He smiled when she blushed. “Come here,” he whispered and she obliged. “Will you sit on my lap?” For him, the best part of a kiss was the intimacy it offered. Having her close would increase the heat of her body against his.
Irish needed to cool down his libido, reminding himself, this is just a lesson. It would go no further than a kiss.
She nodded and settled in his lap.
“Okay, here we go.” He’d never had to instruct a kiss, figuring that kissing was something so natural, the two people would find a rhythm all their own. So, he’d try it that way. He leaned in and her eyes went wide. Pulling back, he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I thought you were going to teach me.” In the waning sunlight, her eyes sparkled and her pink cheeks flamed.
He smiled. “Kissing is natural. I can’t really instruct you through the mechanics because my mouth is going to be on yours. I want you to place your lips on mine, then follow my movements. Do what comes naturally to you. If you want to stop, just pull away.” When she nodded her understanding, he leaned in part way, waiting for her to lean in as well.
The first soft touch of her lips rocketed him out of his body. He slanted his head and applied more pressure, and like he thought, her natural reaction was to slant her head in the opposite direction. With a smooth motion, Irish pushed his tongue past the barrier of her lips. She gave a small gasp in surprise, but quickly copied his movements.
Her hand came up and nails scored his scalp, causing him to delve deeper. His fangs extended, scraping over her tongue, drawing a small bead of blood. He sucked on the tip of her tongue and she moaned so loud, it reverberated off the cave walls. Irish realized his hesitance to teach her had not come from anything other than his fear of losing control. Because he wanted more than a simple kiss.
Ophelia’s hands moved to his shoulders, holding him in a vice grip. Her body, hot against his, moved of its own accord. Soon, she moved her legs to straddle his waist, and he could scent her arousal. Irish was primed and ready, grabbing onto her ass to hold her firmly on his lap. It was then, an unwarranted thought blasted into his mind. Ophelia was to be queen, and when she hit that throne, she needed to be a virgin.
That thought sobered him up real quick. He pulled away. “Lesson over.” Grunting, he gently moved her off his lap.
“Wait, why?” She stood with him. “Was it wrong?” He felt her hand on his shoulder.
“No, it was all right—too right.” He moved to the mouth of the cave. “We need to head out. The sun is low and we can get there in time to meet the boat.” He didn’t look back at her. Yes, he was an ass for pushing her away without explanation, but hell, if he got hard again with no sort of release, his balls would explode in his pants.
When he did turn, she was removing the shirt he’d given her to wear. “What are you doing?” he asked in a panicked voice.
She eyed him for a moment then frowned. “I’m going to shift. I’ll move faster this way, and my senses will be sharper. Plus, you said I could go to the compound with you and I am better when I’m in wolf form.” Her words were sharp and her tone was clipped.
Good, he needed her to forget the kiss and focus on the task at hand. He turned just as she pulled that tattered dress up and over her lithe body. “Do you—uh—remember the plan?” he asked. At her silence, he turned to find a large wolf with silky fur the same hue as a stormy night’s sky and an endearing little patch of pure white fur under her jaw. “Damn,” he whispered.
Moving forward, he reached out to the wolf. He’d seen her as a wolf before, but each time was as amazing as the first. She nuzzled his hand when he pet her. “I won’t be able to understand you, but I know you can hear me.” He knelt down in front of her. “If anything happens to me, or if shit hits the fan, run.” She gnashed her teeth and shook her head. “Hey,” he reached up and caressed her soft fur, “for me, please. Your people will need you to lead them back to the coast.”
He couldn’t go off into this mission worrying about her, but as he stood and headed out into the night, he knew some of them weren’t making it home. He could only pray it didn’t include Ophelia.
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Take A Peek at Indelible: Beneath His Ink
COMING DECEMBER 12th, 2016
Trent, a man who’d come from a shit home in Kentucky, held close to him his greatest treasure. Sappy as that shit sounded, he could think of no other way to describe it. It hadn’t even been a year, and she’d already showed him what it was like to truly be loved.
Teal had become his rock, the light at the end of the tunnel, but she had also become more than a beacon towards happiness. She’d become his connection to a new world. One in which he was expected to be open and honest, caring and kind; but most of all, Teal expected Trent to live up to old expectations. The phone started its chiming again, only this time, he recognized the sound as Teal’s email notification, and again he ignored it.
Trent rested his head on his palm and watched the rise and fall of Teal’s chest as she slept. If she woke up now, she’d most definitely curse him out for being what she called a creepy-ass stalker. He took in her slightly parted lips, until she rolled over, giving him a glorious view of her round ass.
His voice must have caught her attention. “What the fuck, Trent?” She rolled back over and eyed him.
Trent took in her mussed up curls and sleep-filled eyes. She slept with a black silk thing wrapped around her head. He found it hilarious that her wild sleeping habits had the material hanging off her head. “What?”
With a groan, Teal sat up. “We’ve talked about this.” She shoved a mass of curls out of her face, the motion pushing her chest out. He was damned glad he’d talked her into sleeping nude.
Trent reached up and squeezed a breast. “Talked about what?” Goosebumps broke out over her skin as he kneaded her smooth flesh.
She shooed his hand away. “Staring at me while I sleep.” She scooted off the bed and Trent followed. “Is it some creepy white man thing?”
He followed her as she headed into the bathroom, taking a quick glance at the clock. He’d need to head to the shop in an hour or so. “Nothing to do with race, baby girl.” Trent moved past her and started the shower. “And everything to do with that fine, plump ass.” He turned around just as she finished brushing her teeth. “One of these days, you’re going to let me fuck it.” He smirked at her grimace, and moved closer.
Throwing a hand out, she stopped him mid-step. “I am going to tell you now. That big thing,” she pointed to his crotch, “isn’t going anywhere near my ass.”
Trent pushed past her hand and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her neck and made his way to her lips. After a searing kiss, he released her and stepped into the shower.
Pushing open the shower curtain, Teal stepped in behind him. “What all do you have to do at the shop today?” She busied herself with washing his back, as he massaged shampoo into his hair.
“I need to go over payroll. And since I’m down a few men,” he sighed, “I may need to do a couple of extra jobs, so we aren’t too far behind after the holiday.” The fact that he was dating a black woman had spread faster than herpes in a whorehouse. “You still staying a week past the forth?”
“Yeah, I took the full two weeks, just like you asked.” She finished his back and adjusted the water to rinse him off.
Trent stuck his head under the stream before he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist. “I’d bring you to the shop, but you’d be bored out of your mind. Plus, here, you have TV and food. That’s at least something for you to do.” He dried off, then rubbed the towel over his head. Teal stepped out behind him and he wrapped the towel around her body. Leaning in for another kiss, he pulled back when it wasn’t returned. “What?”
Holding the towel around her, she took a step back and sighed. “I kind of feel guilty about you losing those two guys. Yes, they were racist dicks, but it hurt business.”
Trent took her hand and led her into the bedroom, where he pulled out his work clothes. “It’s been a hassle for sure, but I can assure you, it is all on me.” He wasn’t lying. His own actions had led to him hiring deplorable men in order to keep up a façade. Trent felt like shit that his hotheadedness from years ago had cast a shadow over their relationship today, and he was working hard as fuck to fix the situation. As always though, his past came back to bite him in the ass.
Teal dropped the towel and moved to her suitcase. “So, what about Harper?” She slipped on a pair of shorts and threw one of his shirts over her head. “Have you heard anything since the last letter?”
Talk about my past haunting me . . .
Turning to face him, she picked up a bottle from her suitcase and poured some pink liquid into her palm. Rubbing her hands together, she spread the stuff throughout her hair.
It was odd to him. There was supposed to be some huge difference when it came to a black woman’s hair, versus a white woman’s hair, but Trent hadn't noticed a thing. Teal got her hair wet the same way Shayla had, and she styled and used similar shit in her hair as well.
“Trent?” Teal’s voice was louder than before, and he realized she’d been trying to get his attention.
He sat down on the side of the bed and stuffed one foot into his boot. Unable to look at her, he kept his eyes on the grimy boot. “No, nothing.”
She sat on the bed, her warm hand grabbing his. “Look, maybe she is still angry at the past.” Trent gave her a withering stare. “I know. She was the one who walked away, but I am more than positive you understand why she left the first time, and her fear of you and your friends the second.”
Trent moved his hand from beneath Teal’s and started on the second boot. Shame lanced through him when he realized that for all the honesty he required from Teal, he was unable to return it. He hadn't told her the truth about what had happened after Harper had left him standing there like a fool, and he sure as hell hadn't told her his actions were the reason she went running—not just the tattoo.
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Few Are Angels | Excerpt
That bed, that room, or even that house didn’t feel like home, though I’d been there many times before during past summers and long weekends with my parents. The thought of them left a bad taste on my tongue. I swallowed several times, but the bitter taste lingered, growing stronger. I pushed the memory away and stored it in the back of my mind, the place where I locked all of the things that I couldn’t handle and the things that I refused to remember. That was where their memory would have to stay. I couldn't keep thinking about them because then the voice would start, and with the voice would come the visions and the sickness. I sat up in bed and looked around for what seemed like the hundredth time. I knew it was late because it was pitch black outside, but I didn’t look at the clock. I hadn’t slept a full five hours in weeks, and I didn't have anywhere to be in the morning, so time seemed irrelevant. I stayed in this odd fugue state where I was aware of all that was around me, and even more aware that none of it mattered anymore. I floated through the days on autopilot, waiting for a situation where a reaction was expected from me, and remembering the “normal” way to react. Pretending was a chore that I wasn’t sure I could handle much longer. The room was so familiar. I knew it like the back of my hand. Why did it seem a million miles away? Or like a dream? Alex and I had spent plenty of time hanging out and growing up together, discovering who we were and where we wanted to go when we were grown. To us, that meant when we turned eighteen. And now that I’d “grown up,” the disappointment that was my life was more unsettling than anything. The realization of where I was versus where I should have been was a relentless headache I couldn’t remedy. Why did this room seem so cold and alone? A summer escape became a prison, and a constant reminder of a past that I could never return to.
Normally, my father would be down the hall snoring, and my mother would be in the kitchen with Mrs. Carlton giggling over vodka martinis. Alex and I would be watching old reruns of Miami Vice. The memory of my parents crept up my spine and into my heart, causing it to spasm in pain. My lungs felt as though they were filled with water. I gasped for air, trying to catch my breath, wondering if I would always feel the physical pain at the memory of my mother and father, wondering if the pain would be all I would have left of them in the years to come. In my eyes, memories equaled pain.
I stood up and bent over, putting my face into my sweatpants, and tried to take deep breaths. That had always worked when I panicked at summer camp because I was homesick, feeling out of place amongst the kids who didn’t understand why I didn't want to go swimming in the lake or horseback riding, why I wanted to go home instead. My stomach heaved. I regretted skipping dinner. Nothing was worse than dry heaving as my body tried to purge itself.
I was sure that I couldn't throw up memories. Even if I could, I didn't think it would matter; I’d still be full of them. Suddenly, I realized what was happening. I knew there was nothing I could do to stop it, but I didn't want to ride it out for fear that someone would find me passed out in the morning. The usual wave of nausea that came with my hallucinations slithered into my belly. My head felt as if it were on fire, which caused my vision to blur and darken. Everyone thought I was better, that I was cured or close to it. I ran to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, hoping that I could shock my body into being normal—free from visions and voices. But it was no use.
“Come to me,” the voice whispered, so close to my ear that I whirled around, thinking someone was in the bathroom with me. The voice. I fought the urge to do as it commanded: follow it into the darkness. My tears threatened to explode, but I held them back. I refused to break down at the Carltons’. They weren’t going to send me back to the hospital. The voice and hallucinations weren’t my fault; I couldn’t control them.
My headache still raged, and from experience, I knew it had not yet reached its crescendo. I gripped the porcelain sink and squeezed my eyes shut, praying for the pain to subside. My mother had once said that pain was a gift. It reminded you that you were still alive, and surviving the pain would only make you stronger. Did she feel that way as she lay dying in the wreckage that night? The thought of my parents’ ordeal did not help. I knew that if I had a full on attack, I would be dragged into a hallucination and they’d find me in the morning, unconscious on the floor. That’d earn me a trip right back to Dr. Lithe and Nurse Laura, with her needles and her pills that made you feel nothing and sleep for days.
My hands began to ache from the tight grip I had on the sink. When I removed them, they felt stiff and cold. The voice hadn’t spoken again, but I could hear what sounded like someone scratching at the bathroom door. I froze. I thought to call out and ask who was there, but an intruder wouldn’t announce himself.
Would it be so bad if someone killed me? I was a whack job. I’d flipped out in school when I’d had the vision, the one of my death. They sent me to Ocean Trace to talk to a shrink, and like an idiot, I had confessed my vision to the doctor. A man’s voice demanding that I return to him. My own death. That day I became the fragile girl that everyone was afraid to be around, scared they would set off another episode. Finally, it was decided that I would go to an inpatient care facility for seventy-two hours, which turned into three weeks. That was what happened when you let people in, when you told the truth. It was my fault, and I realized then that keeping my mouth shut and keeping people at a safe distance was for the best.
I shook my head and rotated my shoulders, trying to pull myself from the fog the pain left behind. Acting braver than I truly felt, I decided that if the person who belonged to the voice in my skull was outside that door waiting to kill me, then so be it. I couldn’t live like that anymore. I grabbed the handle, tightened my grip, and wrenched the door open, fully expecting to see a man in a black ski mask with a knife or a gun, but was instead greeted by Max, the Carltons’ pet husky. His big eyes were lined with what seemed to be worry, or maybe just the need to pee. Since my headache was receding and my stomach was no longer rolling, I decided that some fresh, cold air would be good for my nerves.
The Carltons lived in Northern Virginia along the near-dead Elmwood forest. The mountains there were vast. In Virginia Beach, where I’d moved from, the “mountains” were no more than a few rolling hills. The mountains in Cedar Grove were beautiful, but I had no interest in exploring them as I had during summer and winter breaks in the past. Nothing was the same. Everything seemed smaller. The mountain trails and fresh water streams didn't hold the wonder that they once had. It was October and already freezing. I slipped into my coat and the new snow boots the Carltons had bought me before I arrived. I tiptoed down the stairs as quietly as I could, Max following closely. I headed out the front door, nearly tripping as Max bounded out and ran straight to the abandoned shed to the left of the house. As soon as I stepped outside the, cold Northern Virginia wind slapped me in the face, doing just what I hoped it would: waking me up completely.
I looked ahead and saw that Max had made his way to the back of the shed. I prayed he would make his business short so I didn’t freeze to death. The porch light didn't reach beyond the front of the shed, and Max had disappeared behind it. The snow covered half of my boots, and I hadn’t thought to wear gloves. I soon regretted going out with just boots and a coat. I wasn’t in Virginia Beach where we got an inch or two of snow every ten years or so. In the short time I’d been in Northern Virginia, more than four inches of snow had fallen. I waited, and when Max didn't come back, I made my way closer to the shed, calling his name as quietly as I could, but with the cold and my growing annoyance, it was getting harder to care if I woke anyone in the house. I didn’t have to worry about neighbors. The closest ones were about four miles away.
“Max!” I whispered fiercely against the icy wind. I hoped that even though he was a dog, he would hear the displeasure in my voice and comply. The wind moaned quietly, creaking the brittle frozen branches of the trees around me. My snow boots sounded as if they were crunching glass beneath them. Great, he’ll hear me before I get to him, and he’ll run. I had only wanted to get some fresh air, not relocate to the front yard. I walked faster, letting my anger quell the fear I felt creeping along my skin as I neared the shed. It was darker back there because the light from the porch didn’t reach that far. The contrast created an obscure object in front of me. My vision seemed blurred again, and the shed looked like a giant ink spot, dark and ominous. Normally, I would have turned around and gone the other way when my nerves skittered under my skin, but I didn't care anymore. As I neared the blurred ink spot, I almost wished a fox or wolf would be back there to eat me and put me out of my misery. I squashed that thought; the doctor called them “self-destructive thoughts.” I had scoffed at him when he said it, but I wondered why I’d been having so many recently. The thought of something dangerous back there sent a shiver down my spine, and I trembled. I kept walking. It felt right, as if I were meant to be there. I was being pulled closer and closer to something familiar, a feeling that I couldn’t understand.
I heard Max growling before I rounded the corner, but not even that stopped me from moving forward. I understood that something wasn’t right, maybe even dangerous, but my legs wouldn’t comply with fear’s plea to turn and leave. My stomach did a few nervous flips, and my heart raced, leaving me lightheaded and dizzy, but I kept walking. I placed a hand on the side of the shed for balance. I felt as if I were being swallowed by the murky darkness, never to find my way out again. My hands and legs were numbing and stiffening from the freezing cold, but I ignored the pain and continued. It seemed as though I would never reach my destination until, rounding the corner, I heard what sounded like my name being called behind me. My brain wanted to comply and turn around to see who it was; however, my feet had other plans. Max growled again. My heart threatened to beat up into my throat and out of my body. I held onto the shed with frozen fingers, trying not to collapse into the snow. My legs and feet had gone numb, and my head was a balloon slowly floating above me. I heard my name again, but closer. Max finally came around from behind the shed and headed to the voice behind me. As I slowly slid to the frozen ground, I saw he had a red smudge on his gray-black muzzle. Max blurred, and my vision flickered, then went black. I didn’t even feel the snow as I fell face first into it.
