About Reft:
For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. ~
Newton’s Third Law of Motion
Brandon “Brand” Carmichael’s life was the stuff dreams were made of…too bad it was an illusion. As a guitarist for Inert Motion, Brand traveled the world, performing with his brothers in all but blood. He never stopped moving all the while his mind played in a never ending loop. Now outside influences have changed the band’s course, leaving Brand’s life void of the balance he craved. Once again, his dream had become a recurring nightmare. Brand coped the only way he knew how; retreat into solitude.
Magdalena “Layna” Delacroix had achieved the long sought goal of her Ph.D. in Psychology, but success came at a high cost: over one hundred thousand dollars in debt. After being presented with the opportunity to fulfill her desire to help someone in the aftermath of tragedy, along with earning enough money to clear her debt and start a psychology practice of her own, Layna had to balance the means against the outcome. Could she be the force to stop the downward spiral of someone who refused to seek help?
Neither Brand nor Layna expected the reaction they had to one another. It was the opposite of everything they sought.
Could Layna live a lie while pushing Brand to live in the truth?
Would Brand forgive her for committing one unforgivable sin?
Or was he branded by destiny to be... Reft
Exclusive Excerpt:
“Sometimes I get in the zone and
everything else gets tuned out. I forget to eat and sleep, or even what day it
is. Things just blur together when I’m focusing. It’s like my mind can only
devote itself to the creative. And I had a disagreement with my brother, which
didn’t help matters.”
“Oh, do y’all fight a lot?” she asked
while continuing to chow down on her syrup with a side of waffles. “My siblings
and I fought all the time growing up, but now that we’re older, we get along
much better, as long as we don’t have to share a room or a bathroom.”
“Not so much anymore. We did when we
were younger. Then we didn’t talk for a long time.” My truth-telling danced a
fine line. One conversation with my mom about Barrett and me having contact and
everything would come crashing down. I loved my parents, but I couldn’t let go
of Barrett again, not even for them.
“What made you, or him, get back in
touch after not talking for such a long time?”
“Umm, well, uhh, I guess somewhere
around the time Bow and Danelle got married, the dynamic of the band started
changing. There was just a lot going on; Joker and Ruff stopped trying to kill
each other and started fuc—dating each other, and then Touch met Kaitlyn and
all of their shit went down, and I realized that even though my band had been
my surrogate family for years, I needed my real family, my blood and my best
friend since the beginning. So I began trying to reach out to Barrett, and one
day, he responded.
“It’s been nice catching up with him
and talking about all the things I’ve done with the band and stuff. He kept
track of it all. We talk pretty much every day now, except when he’s pissed at
me.”
“Does he ever come to visit? Maybe I’ll
get a chance to meet him while I’m here. If he’s half as pushy as you are, I
might like him,” she claimed with a smile, but panic rose inside me. Not
because she thought I was pushy or she might like him better—Barrett and I had
never been the type to compete or fight over a girl—but she wanted to meet him.
Total no-go situation.
“Yeah, he probably won’t make it
anytime soon. He’s got other obligations right now. But, uhh, but I need you to
promise me you won’t tell my parents or your mom about Barrett.” My hands
clinched the hard bench seat and my legs bounced up and down nervously. I didn’t
know why I couldn’t keep my mouth shut around her, or just stay the fuck away
from her.
“Why’s that?” By now, she’d stopped
eating and was focusing on me, studying me, looking at me as if she could see
the thoughts ripping through my head like a natural disaster in the making.
“They don’t talk to each other. My
parents have, uhh, they have a different view of Barrett. He doesn’t want
contact with them, and it’s just easier for everyone if they don’t know he’s
talking to me. I don’t want to hurt them.”
“Do you think you could help them heal
their rift before it’s too late and it can’t be fixed?”
“It’s already too late. The only thing
I can do is try to salvage what I have left and not cause any more damage or
harm or pain to anyone else.” I stopped and thought for a moment before I said
anything else. “I shouldn’t have even told you; something about you makes you
easy to talk to. But I need you to promise me that you aren’t going to repeat
the things we talk about or that you see to my mom, your mom, or anyone else
for that matter. If you can’t do that, we can’t be friends, or even friendly
neighbors.”
Layna looked me directly in the eye.
I’d always heard a person’s soul and true intentions show through the eyes,
telling you if their intentions were good or bad. The look in Layna’s eyes told
me her intentions were good.
“Brand, I promise I won’t repeat the
things you tell me or that I see to your parents or mine.”
I took her promise at face value. What
I should have remembered was the saying about good intentions and the road to
hell being paved with them. I knew all about good intentions, and I knew all
about hell. I’d lived in my own personal tormented version of hell for over a
decade.
About the Author:
One day some words came to mind, so I wrote them down. Soon the words became sentences, which formed paragraphs, which, in turn, formed chapters. Before long, those words had become a book. When I'm not reading or writing, I'm a wife, mother, and business owner. I've lived on the Gulf, East, and West Coasts, but as a born and raised Southern girl, my favorite will always be the Gulf Coast. There's just no place like home...
Enter Libby’s giveaway!
No comments:
Post a Comment