Yes, I know I know, I rarely do Saturday posts, but I wanted to give those of you who loved Insanity and White Walls something special.
So here we go....
Here is a teaser for So Far Gone (Aurora O'Reilly 1)
The year is 1950 and I’ve just turned sixteen.
You know what that means?
That means that this glorious year, I’ll be introduced to society as a debutante. Something that I’ve been dreading since my mother brought it up six months ago. During a luncheon with a few of her women’s league friends I’d been picking at my salad, when my mother first mentioned it. Then she patted my forearm. I smiled politely, turned my head and scowled. Whether it was proper for a southern belle or not, there was no way I was going to let Mabel O’Reilly, shove me into some frilly, frou-frou dress and parade me around in front of society like a poodle at a dog show.
I don’t want to be a purebred
I’d rather be a mutt.
“Aurora!” mother’s voice bleeds through the pale pink walls of my bedroom. “I have a surprise for you!”
The click clack of her heels sound offs against the wooden floors. “I promise you, darling, you’re going to love it!”
A bout of nausea whips through my stomach when I realize she’s only a few feet away from my bedroom. With frantic heart beats and trembling fingers, I slide open my window at the exact same time my mother’s fist connects with the door. “Open up, sweetheart!” Her voice has a light airy feel to it. She’s in a good mood. That’s about to change in a minute.
I stare down at the two story drop from my bedroom and tell myself that I’d rather jump out this window than see what surprise my mother has in store for me. Even thought part of me has a feeling that her surprise will be a puffy white dress that she’s selected for me to wear to the Biloxi Debutante ball.
The door cracks open revealing a sliver of my mother’s profile. I take that as my cue. Oh hell’s bells. I’d rather break both my legs jumping out this window than try on that hideous dress. I plummet from my window at the same time my mother says, “Aurora, darling, are you in here?”
My back slams into the ground first, hard. My abrupt impact knocks the wind out of my lungs and I choke out the breath lodged in my throat. I continue gasping, willing my lungs to start working again.
I sit up, still in a daze at the same time my mother pokes her head out my window. “Aurora, what are you doing down there?” She holds a white dress up in the window and my eyes widen.
My lips press into a straight line. That dress is uglier and gaudier than I thought it would be. With it’s poofy white sleeves, full ruffled skirt, and bodice adorned with little gems and knick-knacks.
“Isn’t it lovely?” mother gushes. A wide smile stretches on her full rosy lips. “Now come back inside so I can see you in it.”
I hop to my feet. “Sorry to disappoint you, mother.”
The smile falls from her lips. “What?”
At that moment, I take off running. I run fast, ignoring the burn in my lungs and the stiffness in my joints.“Aurora Jean!” mother shouts, her voice carrying on the wind. “You get back here this instant!” I glance over my shoulder at my mother’s whose body is tensed, a frown residing on her lips. “Just wait until your father hears about this!”
Now, a teaser from Beautiful Nightmares!
There is nothing but darkness.
It surrounds me.
Swallows me like a boa constrictor desparate to have a meal in its’ belly.
But even though it’s pitch black, I can hear him. His voice bleeds through the walls and I know that I have to go to him. I have to go to him because I love him. I ache when I’m not near him. And hearing the pain in his voice nearly cripples me.
Elijah sits at his desk. He’s sobbing, his hands fisted through his locks of gold, his chest heaving as he lets out another anguished cry. “Why, Adelaide?” he screams. “Why?” He raises his head slowly, his beautiful golden eyes brimming with tears, and he clenches his jaw. Suddenly the emotion in his features twists from sorrow to rage. He stands. His face is red hot like the hearth of a fire and in one swift motion he sweeps his arm along the length of his desk sending all of the papers, folders, pens, and paper weights clattering to the floor. He lets out another fierce anguished cry.
“Elijah, love. What’s wrong?”
My question is met silence.
“Tell me, my love,” I press on. “What can I do to make it better?”
My words don’t seem to ease his suffering at all. He begins pacing behind his desk, hands balled in fists at his side. He stops mid-pace and in an abrupt reaction he picks up the antique globe next to his desk and he chucks it with force into the wall. “Why Adelaide?” he repeats his previous question and falls back into his chair in a heap.I’ve reached the point where I can no longer hold back my tears and I rush to him, clinging to his arm and crying, “I can’t take this. I can’t take seeing you like this, Elijah. Please. You’re breaking my heart.” I’d give anything to take away his pain. I’d give anything to whisper heartfelt words into his ear and let him know that everything will be all right. That we will be all right.