Publication Date: June 18, 2015
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
SYNOPSIS
Ellie Abela’s life has been anything but easy. Tragedy follows her where ever she goes, and she’s been a lot of places. At twenty she’s lived in over ten different states, all because of her dad’s career in medical research. His career is just another list of the causes of tragedies in El’s life. He’s dying, and with every breath he takes closer to Heaven, Ellie dies a little bit inside too.
At twelve she lost her mom in a drunk driving accident, and in a matter of months she fears she’ll lose the last person she has in the world to cancer.
While Ellie’s life has been rife with sadness, Trent Wentworth’s has been a challenge. A drug-addicted mom and a dead-beat dad meant at twenty three he was the adoptive father of his two year old sister. Now at twenty five he’s working his way up the corporate ladder and a struggling single parent.
Each is searching for a cure to the things in their lives dragging them down.
Not all cures are black and white; not all cures save us–and sometimes saving isn’t what we need. Sometimes we just need to realize how lucky we are to be alive, at least for this moment
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EXCERPT
. I walked over to the door leading to his
room and pushed it open. I wanted a distraction. I didn't want to think about
it. I heard Trent follow me, and I walked over to the guitars hung on the wall.
I ran my fingers over the strings. I knew Trent was leaning against the door
frame, watching me carefully.
"My dad used to play drums before he
got sick," I explained. "I used to want to learn how to play
guitar...then we could have our own band."
Trent walked forward, going to sit on his
bed, and I turned to face him.
"He's a scientist. He's been trying
to find the cure for different types of cancer for as long as I can
remember...and I don't mean little labs somewhere. Government labs...and all
those tests...and chemicals--and whatever the fuck," I replied, stopping
as my body trembled. "He was handling--that's what gave him it...the
cancer. He was trying to find a cure," my neck pushed forward as I fought
back the tears. "And he...he basically killed himself."
"There's no cure?" Trent
whispered.
I looked at the ceiling, dimly lit by the
bedside lamp. "If there was, he would've found it."
Trent stood and his face came into my
vision as he looked down at me. He ran his hand up my back until it reached my
head, tipping it back to a normal position. He put his forehead against mine,
his hand cupping my cheek as his other stayed on my lower back.
"Not all cures are black and
white--not all cures save us," Trent whispered, and I felt my eyelashes
heavy with tears.
"I'm dying too--every time I look at
him and know that every breath he takes is closer to his last one." I
didn't bother wiping away the silent tears now making their way down my face.
"It's always been that way, El. We're
all going to die someday," He crushed his eyes shut, shaking his head.
"That sounded harsh. I didn't--"
"You're right."
He opened his eyes, his chest rising with
the deep inhale he took. "I do get it. I used to come home and wonder if I
was going to find my mom dead." His eyes drifted before coming back to
mine. "But every time I didn't--every time I came home and she was fine--I
was thankful for it, even more so if she was straight."
I laid my head on his chest, and his hands
stayed on my lower back, his own head lowering into the crook of my shoulder.
We stayed like that for a moment as my heart beat evened out, my eyes drifted
to his bed and the rate picked up again. My chest tightened as I stared at the
neat brown and tan checkered comforter, and then my eyes drifted to the time.
1:30 PM.
My eyes suddenly felt heavy, and my mouth
formed a yawn.
Trent looked down at me, and his own eyes
were heavy. "Tired?" he asked.
"Yeah, and I don't feel like driving
home." I ignored the whooshing of blood through my ears as my face heated.
"I can take the couch," Trent
explained as he pulled away and pointed his thumb over his shoulder before
going to his dresser and pulling out a pair of pajama bottoms and a plain black
tee. "They might be big, but it should be more comfortable for you."
I took them from him, my hand touching his
and causing tingles to run up my spine. "You know, I don't mind if...if
you don't take the couch."
Trent's eyebrow twitched as he looked at
me, and I laughed.
"Come on, we're both adults, and I'm
sure you can keep your hands off of me if I'm hidden under all this," I
replied, holding up the clothing that undoubtedly would be baggy on me.
"Are you sure?" he asked,
pulling his own pair of pajama pants out of the drawer.
"Positive, now turn the other way so
I can get undressed," I ordered, using my pointer finger to signal a circle.
He put his hands up. "Of course, but
I think you'll be the one peeking."
I rolled my eyes as I turned, pulling my
shirt off and replacing it with his. I paused as I heard the zipper of his
pants go down. I pursed my lips as I gazed straight ahead as I unzipped mine
and pulled them off. I cursed as I struggled to pull the tight bottom off.
"Skinny jeans."
"You okay?" Trent asked, his
voice deep with amusement.
"Oh, shut up! If you had to wear
jeans this tight you'd understand."
I turned and flopped on his bed, putting
my arms behind my head as I stared at his bare back. Between his shoulder
blades was another tattoo, this one of a bird flying through the sun.
"You didn't tell me about that
one," I commented, and he turned, putting his hands up.
"I didn't know you wanted to know
where all of them where," he replied, smirking down at me as my jaw
dropped.
There was another tattoo on the cap of his
shoulder, this one a Japanese lotus in bright orange and pink. My eyes wondered
to his chest, which was covered in a thin layer of hair I hadn't expected. He
scratched it, his neck turning red up to his ears.
"Sorry about the hairy chest. I can
put a shirt on if it bothers you," he said.
I sat up, pulling my knees to my chest as
my eyes wandered again. I shook my head, putting my eyes back where they
belonged, on his face. "If you have to put a shirt on it won't be because
of your hairy chest."
His eyebrows twitched as he laughed.
"You like it then?"
I tapped my hands on my knees as my eyes
dropped to his slightly sculpted chest, down to his flat stomach and his hip
bones. I lay back, pulling the pillow over my face. "Why couldn't you put
on a burlap sack?" I muttered into it.
I felt Trent's body indent the bed next to
me, and he lifted up the edge of the pillow, blinking at me.
"What was that?" he asked.
I rolled my eyes smacking him with the
pillow before putting it back under my head and turning my back to him. Trent
reached over me, flicking off the light switch, and wrapping his arm around me.
I snuggled into him and closed my eyes.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Cassandra doesn’t remember a time when she wasn’t writing. In fact, the first time she was published was when she was seven years old and won a contest to be published in an American Girl Doll novel. Since then Cassandra has written more novels than she can count and put just as many in the circular bin. Her personal goal with her writing is to show the reader the character’s stories through their dialogue and actions instead of just telling the reader what is happening. Besides being a writer, Cassandra is a professional photographer known for her automotive, nature and architectural shots. She is happily married to the man of her dreams and they live in the rolling hills of New England their dogs, Bubski and Kanga.
Cassandra Giovanni is published by Show n’ot Tell Publishing based out of Connecticut, USA.
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