"Let me just get this straight," she slowly said as if I were mentally challenged. Bitch. "Your best friend is part of some motorcycle club and something about a drug cartel being involved? Am I correct so far?"
I nod to the bitch, thinking that not talking is the best idea ever at this particular moment.
She continues. "You were in a house where a man was killed because he kidnapped you, and he is an associate of a man named Burns, who." She pauses to flip some papers for dramatic effect before resuming her speech, "It appears was a less than clean leader of said motorcycle club. He got shot in the process and you ended up in St. Louis where this all started? And now you are here seeing me?"
"That about sums it up," I inform her, cuz she got the facts straight. Cue the judgment.
"Christine." Bitch is using my fucking full name. Shoot me now. "That's quite a story. And it's only a part of your story I'm guessing."
"Patient something confidentiality, right?" Just double checking before I let some drug shit slip.
"Of course, everything that is said in this room is confidential unless you express the desire to harm yourself or someone else."
Yeah, yeah. Heard that before. I cross my leg and lean back against the couch, arms spread wide across the back.
"You got the facts. I was locked in a room with my best friend, who I'd kill for by the way but that doesn't mean I'm homicidal so don't go scribbling on your notepad." Just making sure. "Shit was handled somehow or another. Dirty cops would be my guess. That doesn't mean shit's all honkey mother fucking dory though. My girl is struggling with her man, and how she fits in to it all. Plus she's all guilty and shit. And I got this hot guy who is so fucking perfect, but I'm scared as fuck to get near him cuz bastard isn't exactly always in the safest situations. Oh, and how could I forget?"
I throw my head back against the couch and smacked myself in the face, letting my hand rest over my eyes for a moment.
"I thought I found one of the good ones—a university dude—and he turned out by pure luck to be in bed with the fuckers who were dirtying up the MC. His ass bailed as soon as his boss, Burns, got shot. Now I got another MC motha fucka up in my shit. Oh," I pause to let her know I'm about to change back to a previous topic, "we're back to the perfect guy I keep fucking up with. He's sex. Sex on a stick. Damn."
I shake my head, remembering the shit Link did with his tongue and that dick piercing. Shame going all these years without experiencing that. Such an awesome orgasm. Too bad he wants more. Shit I just ain't got to give.
"Toss in my family drama and it's a wrap, yo." Bitch wants to hear my drama? Well, there ya go.
I sit up so I can throw my hands in the air nice and dramatic--Aaron style. I look around at bitch's plaques on the wall, laughing at the thought of my own beauty school certificate in a black, plastic, Wal-Mart frame.
"Let's talk about your family."
God, her voice. It's like Meryl Streep should be sitting in this chair making up one of her great impressionist voices cuz this bitch sounds like a shrink off the mother fuckin TV. Too bad she's old-ish, fat-ish, and bound by law to listen to my bullshit.
"The family. The family. What can I tell you about them?"
"Are you close with them?"
I almost choke on a laugh. "God, no. The opposite. Where they are, I'm not. It's better that way."
"And why's that."
"It's more zen like that." I smile at her, but I lace my voice with sarcasm and pure fucking annoyance.
"So you don't talk to them?"
Is she not getting the hint? "Not until recently. Not until some of them decided to tango with the fucking Delmarcos of all families." I shake my head at my fucking luck. "Look, they all get along better when I'm not around. No one to cause fights or get mo fos locked up." I trail off those last few words, the weight of what Kendrick did for me still lingering in the back of my soul, never really going away. He's the one I miss the most. The brother who saved me even if I couldn't save him.
"Why do you think that is?"
"Huh?" Shit, what is she asking me?
"Why are they better off without you?"
I just done told this bitch why. Did she not listen? Should I write a mother fucking memo?
"It's just—fuck. It's just better when my mom doesn't have to look at me and I don't have to look at her. We love each other better like that."
God, that sounded fucked the hell up even to me. It is what it is. But ole girl is gonna have some shitty little comment coming. I know it.
She taps the stylus to her tablet against her lips. I want to shove it down her throat.
"That's an interesting thing to say."
There it is. I laugh at her and her blindness.
"I look good, right?" Ole bitch tilts her head, surprised I'm sure by my sudden change of topic. Throw ya off ya game, hooker.
"Well, yes, you are a very attractive young lady."
Young Lady. Nice one. Two points, biotch.
"I've been told I could easily do catalog work as a model, maybe some high fashion shit if I really hustled. It's a pretty shell," I motion to my body, "whatever God gave me."
I lean back into the couch, resuming my position of one ankle laying on the other knee, and hands resting casually on the back boards of the sofa.
"But I'll let you in on a little secret." I inch forward slightly. Sweet ole girl does too. "I'm trash. My momma was white trash who spawned four mixed boys and one white girl. She did her best I suppose, but the hood'll eat ya up and spit ya out."
Worse if you gotta take care of your white sister. If I were ugly, they woulda all left me alone and Kendrick wouldn't of had to rip motha fucka's nuts off, even if he did deserve it. Bastard wannabe rapist. Stupid mother fucker tried to fuck with the white girl on the block who had four giant brothers of varying shades of brown ready to throw down at a moments notice. Kendrick was always the one defending me, from the time I was born until the moment they took him away in handcuffs for saving me from violation.
My heart grows heavy. Black and heavy.
I look out the tiny window the court appointed shrink is rocking in her office. It look out onto nothing. Yep, nothing, but it looks like she's hung a hummingbird feeder. How nice.
Fuck, how many more sessions was I gonna have to go to.
"That's all for today Christine, I'll see you next week?"
She lifts her voice up at the end like it was a question, like I had a choice.
I nod and mumble, "Ain't got a choice."
I stand up from the couch that was actually quite comfortable and shoot her the peace sign, but horizontally instead of vertically, changing it's meaning greatly.
"Deuces," I call as I exit her office, adding biotch in my head.
Free at last.
Saturday, February 14, 2015
Title: Blissful Valentine
Author: Amy L. Gale
Hosted By: Beautiful Promotions
Straight-laced 19-year-old Brooke Powers has two goals: First, avoid the party scene and all the drama and disaster that go along with it. Second, focus on attaining her Marketing and Business degrees. When her roommate begs her to attend a fraternity party she reluctantly obliges, but gets more than she bargained for when she meets enticingly charismatic fraternity brother, Dean Parker. After a mishap causes her to wake up in the worst possible place she can imagine, she vows to stay away from anything or anyone fraternity related. Staying away from Dean is a daily battle, one she's slowly losing. When her feelings conjure up old demons from the past, her strategically planned future turns into chaos. Brooke is desperate to keep herself on track. Will Dean be her downfall or is he exactly what she needs?
Valentine’s Day isn't always complete bliss.
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BLISSFUL VALENTINE EXCERPT :
He stops and meets my gaze, then bends down and grabs a mound of snow, packing into a tight ball. He takes a step back and winds his arm, throwing the snowball straight and fast. It smacks against the metal sign on the far end of the small pond near a cluster of benches, breaking off into a multitude of pieces.
He wipes his hands off on his pants. “Give it a try.”
I shake my head. “No way, I throw like a girl.”
His picks up a mound of snow and packs it together, forming a perfect sphere. He hands me the snowball and stands behind me, pressing his body against mine. My heartbeats thump against my chest, causing a surge of adrenaline to rush through my veins. I tremble, holding the snowball in my right hand. At least I can blame the cold for my shaky arm. He runs his hand down to my wrist and pulls it back, up toward my shoulder.
He rests his head on my shoulder and talks softly into my ear. “Pull your arm back to here and step forward at the same time you throw.” He moves to the side.
Goosebumps form on my neck from his warm breath gliding against my cool skin. My stomach flutters. Here goes nothing. I stare at the metal No Parking sign and pull my arm back, throwing the snowball as I step forward. Tiny fragments of snow fly through the air. A direct hit.
I clap my hands and bounce up and down on my toes. “Holy crap, I actually did it. I didn’t think I could hit the broad side of a barn.” Dean comes over and raises his hand to give me a high five. I lunge forward and pull him into a hug, before I realize what I’m doing. My chest tightens and heat creeps across my cheek.
He wraps his arms around my waist and presses his body against mine. I step back and ease away, dropping my arms to my sides. “We better head back, I’ve still got lots of physics studying to do if I plan on passing the semester.”
He rubs the back of his neck and nods.
I slide my frozen hands into my pockets and hold them in tight fists. Note to self: when I think I’m finished embarrassing myself I’m usually wrong.
The perfect untouched blanket of snow moves into an array of chaos as we turn the corner to my apartment. My heart beats faster with each step I take forward. This walk is taking forever. If I don’t get away from Dean soon, I may end up doing something else I shouldn’t. I mean, we’re just friends. I take a deep breath and slowly exhale as we approach my driveway.
I dig in my purse and pull out my keys. “Thanks for my victory celebration.”
He places his hand in the small of my back on our way toward my steps. “First of many.” His hand moves to my waist.
Summersaults take over my stomach. I step onto the first step. My boot slips along the rim of the concrete edge covered in a thin layer of ice and instantly it knocks me off balance. My hands flail through the air, desperately trying to grab onto anything.
Dean jumps into action, catching me before my head smacks against the hard sidewalk. I grab onto his sculpted bicep and pull myself to my feet.
Fire burns through my cheeks, which are no doubt fire-engine red. I drop my chin to my chest and hunch my shoulders. He lifts my chin and gazes into my eyes. My heart pounds against the walls of my chest. Electric shockwaves flows through my veins. He leans in closer. My lips part and lava flows through my body. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “I knew you’d fall for me sooner or later.” He places a soft kiss on my cheek and takes a step back, turning and walking away.
Author Amy Gale
Romance author by night, pharmacist by day, Amy Gale loves rock music and the feel of sand between her toes. She attended Wilkes University where she graduated with a Doctor of Pharmacy degree. In addition to writing, she enjoys baking, scary movies, rock concerts, and reading books at the beach. She lives in the lush forest of Northeastern Pennsylvania with her husband, six cats, and golden retriever.
Contact Amy L. Gale:
1. Can you tell us a bit about the main characters.
Brooke Powers is goal-oriented freshman who wants to focus on her studies and avoid the party scene along with all the trouble that goes along with it.
Dean Parker is an enticingly charismatic fraternity brother and star player on Lakeview U's baseball team.
When Brooke's roommate drags her to a fraternity party, an unexpected mishap causes her wake up in Dean's bed throwing her strategically planned future into complete chaos.
2. How did you think of this story? What inspired you?
Since Dean and Brooke were already a couple in Blissful Tragedy, I wanted to elaborate on their awesome relationship. I decided to go back in time to the girls college years and tell the story. I have to be honest, I was inspired by some of my great college memories.
3. Is there anything special you would like your readers to know about Blissful Valentine?
Valentine's Day isn't always complete bliss.
4. Do you get writers block? How do you cure it?
I think every writer gets writers block at some point or another. I try and look to other sources to cure it, like music or re-watching some of my favorite movies for inspiration.
5. Top 5 Favorite Books
1. Beautiful Disaster
2. The Notebook
3. Fifty Shades of Grey
4. Dark Love
6. I know you are a huge music fan AND Led Zeppelin fan. What songs help you write?
I usually come up with a play list based on the book I'm writing. When I wrote Blissful Valentine, I listened to Thank You by Led Zeppelin, Love Song by Tesla, Lay it on the Line by Triumph, Caught up in you by 38 Special, I Can't Fight this Feeling Anymore by REO Speedwagon, My Kinda Lover by Billy Squire, and Talk Dirty to Me by Poison.
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Friday, February 6, 2015
God forbid I focus on one thing at at time...
I was watching a movie the other night (Crash. It's old, but awesome.) and I had this whole conversation play out in my head for Chris' book. It will pick up where Us left off and we will still be in Elle and J's world, but I am going to write it so you don't need to have read the L&J series to get it.
We will find out who was feeding info to Burns, what's up with Link (hottie!), why Chris hates St. Louis so much, a little more on Jose, Son, and Isabel, and how the two MCs will rebuild. On top of that, we will get to know Chris better. And let me tell you, she has one hell of a story to tell. If there were too many F bombs from Elle, Chris may be a bit much for you!
She's under a 72 hour psych detention when the book opens because she may or may not have gone Medieval on someone. (She did.)
And that's all I'm saying.
Him & Her is about to be in the hands of the editors and I'm still gallivanting around Mexico. Other than that...