Last week I promised that I would release an excerpt a week from Seeking Nirvana (Dark Evoke, #1) in the run up to its release on June 16th. I, for one, cannot put into words how excited I am about this series, and how excited I am to share it with you in only four weeks time. (I know, it feels like forever for me, too).
Anyway, I'm not going to keep you all waiting, I know what you want and I aim to please :) So, to wet those taste buds, here is excerpt #1.
Seconds
passed in a form of salted tears trailing down my face, and over my swollen
lip. I tasted the salty residue as I swept my tongue over the cracked flesh
between sobs. I have no idea how long I cried. All I can remember is the
pressure in my head, directly behind my eyes, and the way it radiated through
my cheekbones. Thrown into disarray, my shoulders juddered, sending my body
into a mass of constricting, tautening muscles with each tiny gasp as I
attempted to halt my cries in the warmth of Liam’s arms.
There was
nothing I could do about my misplaced years. There was no magic medicine to administer
to help spark something, no matter how trivial it may be. There was no magic
procedure that the doctors of MA General could carry out like in some sci-fi
movie, hook me up to more probes and wires and have my body zoom through a
tunnel of flashing images while they flooded back.
They were
gone. At least, they were gone for now. And that was something I didn't truly comprehend
how demanding it would be to accept. But I had to accept it. Regardless.
“Mr.
DeLaney,” Leviton’s voice shaded my rapid pants as I fought for a lungful of
air. “If I could have a talk with you outside please,” he requested.
I
unwillingly pulled myself away from the warm crook of Liam’s body, shifting my
head from the consoling warmth and rhythmic rising and dropping of his chest,
back onto the white cotton pillow. Striving to reassure me, he grazed his thumb
over my knuckles as he thrust himself from the bed. “I won’t be a few minutes,
baby,” he smiled.
Everything
at that point may have been buried in a dense, stifling fog, but the look in
Irish’s eyes didn't go unnoticed, as his gaze combed Liam while he was skirted
at the foot of the bed, and trailed behind the sympathetic doctor into the
hallway, closing the room door gently behind him. That grimace couldn't have gone undetected, totally
impossible. It was the lighthouse beaming through my fog, guiding me to a
question that I really didn't even wish to contemplate.
Incalculable
times I exhaled loudly, ousting all of my frustrations in one simple breath,
but it didn't help. My frustrations and alarm was as visible as the flat-cap on
Irish’s head. Every fleeting moment which passed alongside a groan, had my
agitation escalating, scaling higher and higher like one of those carnival
attractions, where you hit the button with the hammer to see how strong you
are. And I was very close to reaching the jackpot.
Air was
expelled in hefty grunts, while my fingers had become a knotted mass in my lap.
Teeth were grinded and temperatures had rocketed as the silence turned into
piercing bells ringing in my already aching head.
“How do we…?
How long have we…?” I wavered, my attention shifted from my blue woven cover,
to the well-defined man at the foot of my cot. “How do I know you?”
Seeing the
corner of his lips curl into a smile, albeit a sad one, I felt the atmosphere
in the room begin to normalize and adjust. It was no longer suffocating and
awkward like it had been with Liam amongst the room’s occupants. With his hands
hidden in the front of his dark, denim pockets, his arms pushing his plaid
shirt back to showcase his white T-shirt that clung to his torso, he paced
leisurely to my side.
“We've
known each other for about eighteen months. I work for, Liam.”
“Eightee––”
I sighed. Quelling the sense of uprising panic, I breathed in a deep breath,
well, as deep as my smarting ribs would allow, and exhaled through pursed lips.
Having a void that immense in my mind was too overwhelming. I instantly began to
wish I didn't ask such a stupid question, a question which would trigger an
immeasurable degree of anxiety that I just didn't need at that point. “You’re
an architect, too?” I added.
He
sniggered then hung his head for a moment. When he lifted his gaze, his head
was cocked; he looked adorable with that shy expression. Shaking his head, he
licked his lips slowly. “No, I um…” he hesitated, and I sensed a degree of
discomfiture radiating from him. “I’m in construction,” he sighed.
“Oh,” is
all I could muster, before he removed his hands from his pockets, and took
position on the ugly green seat next to me. “Do you enjoy it?”
Resting on
the edge of the chair with his elbows supported on his knees, he rubbed his
hands together, making circular motions over each of his palms, opting for
nonchalance. “Its work,” he answered simply through an unconvincing grin.
I could
understand and appreciate that. Being a stripper was never on my list of
desired employment opportunities. The way my stomach knotted, and the shame I
felt every time someone asked me what I did for a living, was considerable. People
always judge a book by its cover, that’s a fact. And it’s unnerving when you
know people judge you because you’re not a doctor, a lawyer, an architect…but
work is work.
My
attention shuffled from Irish to the door as I heard the click of the handle
being pushed down. Liam stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
“Hey,” I
breathed.
His soft,
loving expression turned cold and hard, as he was welcomed by the sight of his
employee sitting beside me, leaning into his arms and only a few inches away
from the bed itself. Liam may have been at the end of the room, but his jaw was
working like Santa’s elves the day before Christmas Eve. Scowling, he stomped
into the room with as much control as he could gather…which wasn't a lot for
Liam DeLaney; he was never able to keep a firm lid on his emotions.
Still,
Irish didn't even batter an eyelid, let alone shift out of the seat, which made
Liam worse.
“What did
the doctor say?” I asked, not only out of pure interest, but in an attempt to
bring an end to the once again, thickening, hostile atmosphere.
Taking
extra caution not to snag my IV, he took a seat on the left of my bed. I
watched and blenched as his thumb traced over my cracked, swelling mouth before
lingering over my lower lip. I couldn't help but smile when I met his green and
blue speckled eyes.
“He said
that…” he began but soon trailed off. The man to my right was shot a disdainful
scowl. “You can go,” he snapped.
I glance to
my right, a V scorched into his dark brown eyebrows, his molded, pale lips hardened
into a stubborn, firm line.
“I said,
go. There is no need for you to even be here now. Kady doesn't even know you;
you’ll get her confused.”
“Very
well,” Irish muttered on an outbreath. He pushed himself up slowly, and placed
a kind hand over mine. Yes, you knew he definitely worked in construction,
because callouses which covered his palm was scrapping across the back of my
knuckles. “I’ll be around if you need anything, Kady. I won’t be far.”
I felt the
mattress quivering beneath me, as Liam’s body shook frenzied and incessantly. “She
has me. She doesn't need your charity,” he seethed.
“Even
still,” he lifted his head, his eyes narrowed at Liam in silent warning, before
returning them to me. “I’ll be around. Nothing will change that,” he promised
with a smile.
“Thank you,
that’s very kind, um…”
I remember
how his eyes blazed and how a twitch kissed the left corner of his mouth, a
tiny dimple making an adorable appearance. It was a look that was both sad and hopeful.
And although I have no idea why, it warmed me.
“Walker. My
name is, Walker.”
******
Thank you for reading excerpt #1, I hope you enjoyed.
