A Life Through Books

Dots
Angie M. Brashears
Publication date: October 1st 2016
Genres: Adult, Contemporary

This is a story about two strangers with nothing but grief in common.
Mason is great at connecting dots in other people’s life’s, but not so much in his own. His website, The F#ck it List, is all about connecting sexual requests. Matching never have I ever’s like a pair of socks. Efficiently. All in an effort to raise money for charity. That’s all he wants, to give. Why is that so hard?
Chloe’s in denial, but that’s not going to make the cancer go away. When her doctor gives her an expiration date, she can’t deny it any longer. It’s time to break the news to family and her best friend. She thought she’d have more time. There’s things she needs to say. She needs to be heard, but not by her loved ones. They’ve got enough on their plates with the diagnosis.
Two Months? Not long enough to do anything except…dig the hole.
It’s time.
This is Chloe’s story and how she copes with the end.
Just as there is a song for every occasion, Chloe has a friend for every occasion.
A pity party friend.
A truth friend.
A fixer friend.
And an end friend. Mason.
Mason and Chloe have nothing in common but grief. Two dots, floating in a sea of sorrow.
He’s lost his mother. She’s losing the fight.
When the end is near, is it too late for a new friend?
One woman’s end journey. Even when it’s time to get your affairs in order, it’s never too late for an “end” friend. Someone that will listen? Share your burden, so the family doesn’t have to. Help with the mess she’s created by keeping secrets. Be there for her best friend, a shoulder to cry on when the time comes.
It’s one thing to donate money to a cause.
What about your time, heart and soul? How much should you be expected to give?
If a stranger asked, could you be an end friend?

All your weight, it falls on me. It brings me down.
Truer words have never been spoken. My family and their feelings, that’s the weight of my world on my shoulders right now. How am I supposed to tell my overprotective mother, who freaks out over a sniffle…that, I’m…dying? My brother, Ronny, out doing his job, protecting us, battling on the front lines. Is it fair to distract him from his task at hand? Maybe he gets killed, or maybe his buddy takes a bullet? Why, so I can feel better? What about dad? Thoughts of the man that stuffs a pink can of mace and rape whistle in my stocking every year, and my burden just got heavier. And last but not least, my best friend, Lola. We’ve been the odd couple since the tampon video in fourth grade. Neat as pin, she never has loose ends, never commits to anything, no tangles no mess. That’s where I come in. I’m a friggin mess. Everything I touch gets smudged. Or at least, I’ve been told that, since as far back as I can even remember leaving a mess. Possibly, Lola’s bored with her muted tones life, maybe that’s why she steps into my sunshine and rainbows. Cluttered with dust motes, dancing on sun rays, like spritely fairies. Could be. So, what happens when I tell her I’m taking the sun with me? Some days, I can’t get off this sagging futon. Between the pain, the isolation, the guilt, the secret… I just can’t. I look at the website again. The F#ck It List. A place to put your Never have I ever… and you’ll be matched with the right person for you. I’m not interested in the sexual stuff. I’m so over that, and besides, my boyfriend, well, not boyfriend, stops by twice a week and we’re compatible enough as it is. And he’s another one. I broke up with him, so I wouldn’t have to paste a smile on twice a week and pretend like my world’s not falling apart. I love him, but man, does he need a lot of coddling. I haven’t brought myself to click past the privacy screen. That’s not what I’m interested in. The thing my nurse keeps talking to me about. My chemo nurse, Courtney, whispered to me. “You need someone to talk to, get things off your chest. I know you don’t want to burden your family, Chloe, but who takes your burden?” I shrugged, not really caring one way or the other. “I’ll be dead soon, so who cares? They can bury it with me.” She smacked my hand, the one without the IV. She was the one who had to poke around for an hour to find it, so she was protecting it like gold. But her words were kind. “Just like that. Who do you get to say those things too? You’re too worried about acting normal for your chemo buddy over there.” Em’s on her phone. She hates needles. I do too. “You need someone to hear you and not your cancer, you got me?” Her eyes look so compassionate, so loving I nod. She rests her hand on top of mine. I didn’t realize I was crying. “It’s my first time, I’m still a rookie.” I blubber out. She produces a tissue box from thin air and rubs my hand. “I have a friend; grandson has a website.” She lowers her voice. “It’s like a sex something or other,” then she’s back to full volume, “but that’s just to raise money for charity. I know she said he’s always looking for people with illnesses to help. “I guess my face must look funny, because she feels the need to add, “not like murder or anything like that.” I laugh. “Honestly, I was just wondering when this nausea would start to go away.” She nods, and squeezes my hand. “It doesn’t.” Later, when I’m pumped full of poison, she presents me with a gift bag. It’s got Band-Aids and syringes all over it. “Wow, Courtney how’d you know it was my birthday?” She laughs, “Well it kind of is. It’s your Chemo-day. You’re very first. Congratulations, kiddo, you made it through. Enjoy. Inside is the softest, most luxurious cashmere blanket. Pink, with raised dots. “Very chic, Courtney. I love it!” She hugs me and wraps it around my shoulders. “For the chills,” she whispers in my ear and I nod. She reaches in the bag and takes out a box of masks. “Remember your nadir.” There’s hard candies to suck on, for when my mouths dry. And an oral bag! With a rainbow toothbrush. “Thanks so much, I would’ve never thought of any of this. On the very bottom, a free month membership to Netflix. “For when you can’t make it out, but still want to watch something.” “I’m touched, really.” I use my new blanket, to wipe away a tear. “But I’ll have to read up on the rules, I don’t know a thing about Netflix.” As I leave, in search of my chemo buddy, who I haven’t seen in the last thirty minutes, Courtney calls out to me. “Chloe, did you want me to check on that thing, Mason’s website?” I think about it. I’ve got nothing better to do. “Sure.” That was four months ago. I’ll never see her again, chemo’s done dude. I’ll miss her. But not in the add another brick to the pile way. No, I’ll miss having someone who listens with their whole self. Two dots, connected by Courtney.

Author Bio:
Angie M Brashears is a lover of everything books. When not writing, she's reading anything she can get her hands on. She grew up in Southern California, and loves the mountains, hiking with her dogs, the beach, and of course, Disneyland! She loves music, and loves singing along to the radio, loud and off-key, performing for anyone unlucky enough to be in the passenger seat.
Angie loves dark and twisted, which she refers to as Dark Ever After books, but is known to read an occasional HEA story as well. When she's not writing, she working, saving lives. A busy Trauma ER nurse for over twenty years, she gets enough reality in her life, and is always looking for a story to take her away from the harsh reality of Emergency Nursing.
If there's football on, she sure to have a huge party going on to cheer her team on...Go Patriots!
As a new author, she'd love to hear from you!

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The final book of the Splendor trilogy – the conclusion, but never the ending, to a love story for the ages

All of luxury hotel heir Ian Gregson’s dreams are finally coming true. Soon he will be able to claim the beautiful woman he longed for from afar for more than two years, and she will belong to him for all time.

But as their wedding day approaches, long hidden secrets from Tessa’s past will surface and stir up all of her old fears and doubts. And Ian will once again need to convince her that their love is more than strong enough to conquer all - a love that’s destined to last for all time.


 
Janet is a lifelong resident of the San Francisco Bay Area, and currently resides on the northern California coast with her husband Steve and Golden Retriever Max. She worked for more than two decades in the financial services industry before turning her focus to producing running events. She is a former long-distance runner, current avid yoga practitioner, is addicted to Pinterest, likes to travel and read. She has been writing for more than three decades, with her first book in the Inevitable Series - Serendipity - published in December 2013.

Symbol of Redemption
Natalya Orekhov
(Symbols Duet #2)
Publication date: September 16th 2016
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

Symbol of Redemption is the highly anticipated conclusion to Symbol of Treason.
Don’t miss the finale that will have you screaming. Whether that’s a good or bad thing, well…, that’s debatable.
As The Brotherhood closes in, the stakes are as high as they come. Everyone is on edge, and Alice finds herself more lost than ever as her heart is torn to shreds. She’s desperate to discover all that was Logan Snow before he became the monster she married. But Logan refuses to give her any insights into his former life, knowing full well that once everything is revealed, Alice will be gone.
Will Alice find the strength to fight to the end, or will the truths of the past prove too much to bear?
Will Logan find a way to save them from a war determined to destroy them, or was the battlefield rigged from the beginning?
And when you’re faced with your own mortality, will forgiveness wash over you, or will you take vengeance to your very grave?
—
Author’s Note: This story deals with heavy subject matter such as rape, murder, and slavery, and requires the reader to accept the fact that despite this fictional set, real life is fare graver than the words written on these pages. The relationships of these characters are built on sacrifice, forgiveness, and vulnerability to the very core. This is not a work of erotica, but it is also not intended for an audience under the age of 18. This is the conclusion to Alice and Logan’s story. For your interest I am deeply grateful. Wishing you a meaningful journey of discovery and an abundance of joy.

“What I choose to dedicate my time to, Allison, is never a waste.”
“You’re entitled to your perspective as I am mine, Mr. Snow.”
“I’ve asked you to call me Logan and I’d prefer not to repeat myself.”
I opened my mouth only to shut it, which he clearly took as a victory if judging by the self-gratified curve of his lips. But more interestingly, his smirk didn’t bother me. Instead I felt oddly happy to have pleased him.
“Share a meal with me.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both.”
I lowered my gaze, unable to watch the sincerity of his disappointment. It was easier to pretend he was merely being charming.
“You feel it. This pull. This ravaging sensation whenever we’re together.”
It wasn’t a question, so I found no reason to supply an answer.
Logan stepped impossibly close and suddenly there wasn’t enough air in the tiny space between us. His palm was warm as it caressed my cheek and against wisdom, I leaned into it. My lungs were heaving, my pulse racing and I felt hyperaware. My eyes shut tight with great strain, yet I sensed his every move; his every breath.
His hands were wound into my hair as they cradled my head. Logan lowered his forehead to touch mine and I could feel the tension rolling off him in waves, each rippling through me in search of release.
“You call to me like a siren.” He breathed.
Somehow I understood his meaning, for I felt much the same about him. I sensed his reluctance to fully embrace what seemed to keep pulling us together and somehow that hurt, even though I was doing the same. Logan’s breath was hot against my skin and each time his mouth released a breath, my lips trembled with the urge to lift just high enough to touch his.
We stood there, deeply connected and yet still light years apart. I clung to these shared seconds like dreams of the impossible. I memorized the feeling of his warmth; more soothing than the sun…and the ache of it. I wanted to stop time, forget all else, and melt beneath Logan’s lips pressed against my forehead. If wishing worked, I would’ve wished for nothing else.
But as I dreamed from behind my closed lids, I couldn’t dismiss my fear. A warning—it was time to go.
“Take care, Logan Snow.”
My feet felt heavy with lead, my heart wounded. I made my way to my Pilot and swung open the door, fully aware of every added inch between us. Faintly I imagined Logan sweeping me off my feet, whisking me off to a Happily Ever After; but in real life you couldn’t write an alternate ending if unhappy with the way the story was headed. The hero wasn’t bulletproof and bombs didn’t get disarmed three seconds to detonation. In real life people cried, bled, died, and love couldn’t cure evil. I knew this, and paid a high price for the lesson. So when Logan’s fairytale rebuttal never came, I slid into my car, closed the door, and drove away without looking back.

Author Bio:
As a Russian refugee, Nataly Orekhov at a very young age learned that life is anything but fair. If her toys and clothing were not donations from a charity or a kind soul, then they were acquired by a technique called Dumpster Diving. As the fourth of five children, Natalya was well versed in the dynamics of big families. Yet despite the bickering and slamming of doors, everyone knew that with this family, blood would always be thicker than water; the screams always took second place to their cheers for one another.
Today Natalya lives in a cozy home in Southwest Littleton, Colorado, with her husband and two young children. She’s known in her neighborhood as an exceptional baker and enjoys surprising friends with mouthwatering desserts. Though, moderately young, Natalya has earned several degrees in various disciplines of life—in hardship, heartache, and forgiveness when it’s the last thing you want to give. Yet in the midst of such a grueling education, Natalya has also had the great privilege of meeting countless individuals with hearts larger than life, and spirits that rival the best of them. To such individuals she is eternally grateful.

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