My life ended the day I answered the door and found out James had
died. Writing has become my only release and secluding myself
from the people who constantly judge me for my way of grieving
has made me famous. I'm not ready to love again, in fact it's not
even a thought. Someone needs to tell that to Liam. He's breaking
through all of the walls I've worked so hard to create. How can one
man be so intriguing? He just gets me, maybe a little too well.
Olivia has lost the only person she loved. To help her cope she writes. Shuts off the world and writes to help her deal with the pain.
When she meets Liam, her whole world changes. Only when she finds out certain things does she start to feel confused and doesn't know what to believe.
Liam and Olivia has an instant connection and sparks go flying between the two of them.
This book has a little of everything... Romance, suspense and of course an amazing couple with great chemistry.
AMAZON UK: http://goo.gl/mZgkAX
These bags are extremely heavy. I should've asked Michael to help
me, but I'd hate to inconvenience him and his new wife. There really isn't
anyone else to call for help since they've all stepped out of my 'crazy' world;
the sudden changes I made scared everyone off. I can still hear their
comments about how unstable I am. 'Who quits their job to write a book?'
Yeah, well bitches, I did. I've written five novels in a series and I have plans
for so many more, but none of them know that. They seriously think I sit
here in my apartment and grieve.
I didn't become a New York Times bestselling author by crying myself
to sleep at night. I don't have time for tears; there are places to go and
people to meet. I'm headed to a book signing in New York City. It's a
privilege to even be invited to this event. A part of me is excited and
another is dreading this day.
I just wish I could have one more day with him. I'd love to show him
that I'm doing it, even though our friends and family have zero faith in me.
He always believed in me and supported me in everything I set out to do.
Very few people find a person who truly comes through for them when they
have off the wall ideas. You know, like work as an accountant for six years
and then one day decide you'd like to write a book. I guess it didn't help
that I decided to do that exactly one month from the day he died.
He would’ve been one hundred percent behind me, but he's not here,
so I go it alone. Don't get me wrong, I miss him like crazy, but that won’t
bring him back to me. As for everyone else, they stepped away from me
when I needed the support the most. They got off this crazy train and it
doesn't circle back around to pick up passengers who jump ship. Michael’s
the only one who has had much to do with me since I 'went crazy'.
To be honest, my emotions were so out of control that it took me
spilling it all onto paper for me to be able to cope with everything. I miss
him so much and everyone wants me to 'talk' about it. I just can't and it's
easier to work through my demons on my own.
I finally work my way past airport security after checking my luggage.
Obviously, security isn't getting any easier to pass through because I had to
be scanned separately from the others. It's probably because they sense
the 'crazy' that the others speak of. This loneliness is partly my fault, but it
would've been nice for them to believe in me a little.
The flight is full of people and should be interesting. I haven't been in
a crowd of people since the funeral almost a year ago. This is a big step for
me, though. A book signing in New York City is huge for an author to
attend, never mind the fact that I've always wanted to go there. James and
I talked about traveling there together many times.
I sit in my window seat and hope for the peace I need to stay focused
on my inner strength to get through this weekend. My ear buds begin to
blare one of my favorite Hinder songs and I pull my magazine out of my bag
to stay entertained for the non-stop flight across the states.
The passengers keep piling in and I begin to wonder just how large
this airplane is. I paid extra money to fly First Class in hopes of staying
under the radar of any chatty passengers and kids that don't mind their
I’m trying to stay focused on my article while someone is reaching
over my head to load his luggage, completely distracting me. I really
should’ve purchased the seat next to me. Why didn't I think of that before
now? Even with the help of the flight attendant he has to force the bags into
the compartment. How the hell much stuff does he have?
I purposely don't make eye contact with him after he flops into the
seat right beside mine. His leg pushes against mine a few times and he
seems extremely restless. I'm not sure if it's intentional, but it seems that
We begin to prepare for take off so I pull out my ear buds to hear all
of the safety information. Watching and listening to the flight attendant give
her instructions kind of overwhelms me, but I'm sure it'll all come to me in
case of a true emergency. It's not like we'll survive if this huge bird has a
I slip the buds back in for take off and begin to read again. It isn't
until he presses his leg into mine again that I begin to get irritated. His
posture is slouched and he's noticeably oblivious to the fact that he's
invading my space with his huge legs spread open like that.
"Excuse me." I yank out an ear bud and let it fall against my chest
while I use my hand to gesture toward his leg. I'm sure my face is telling
him exactly how I feel, because it never lies. I have a very shitty poker
"No worries. You're not bothering me." The shock on my face from
his audacity has him smiling.
"You're bothering me. So if you don't mind, please move your leg." I
sit back in hopes of him doing as I ask and grab the ear bud to reposition.
"Nah. I don't mind. Sorry, ma'am." Ah HELL NO. He did NOT just
call me ma'am. That makes me feel so damn old. I choose to attempt to
ignore him and move to plug my ear again, but hell if it doesn't bother me.
His stare begins to heat my skin—you know, like the weird feeling you get
when you can tell someone is watching you. I shift so that I'm turned more
toward the window and try to enjoy the view of the landscape below. The
feel of his leg brushing up against mine again causes me to pull further away
from him. I notice the touch of his finger on my shoulder and everything
inside of me wants to stand up and scream for this creep to get off of me.
My head whips around to glare at him when I notice the attendant staring at
"Would you care for something to drink?"
"Yes, I'll take a water, please."
"One water, one Jack and Coke. I'll be right back." Why do I let it
shock me that this character is drinking at 8:30 in the morning? It really
"Don't you think it's kind of early to be drinking like that?"
"It's okay. I drink Coke any time of day!"
"Right.... Well, good luck with that."
"You're pretty stiff. You could probably use a drink like that yourself!"
"I'm not stiff, so keep your comments to yourself, if you don't mind."
"I think you are stiff and you have to live a little, but I’ll work on
keeping that to myself." Who does he think he is? He doesn't get to judge
me after only sitting beside me for a couple of minutes.
"You have no idea what I'm going through, so don't try to judge me
based on the few minutes you've seen me today."
"Touché. Let me apologize and maybe we can start over." I wait for
his actual apology and find myself waiting too long. My impatience grows
wild and I can't believe I'm letting this guy really get to me. He enjoys my
silence a little longer before he finally speaks.
"I’m truly sorry for calling you stiff. Please accept my apology and let
me buy you a drink." He watches my face very closely and must finally get
a clue that he’s pissing on a ticking time bomb. He extends his hand in an
"Liam Bryant." The disgust on my face has to be obvious as I refuse
to shake his hand or willingly touch anything of his. His sexy as hell grin
flashes across his face and damn if my eyes don't betray me. Those lips are
the kind you want to watch someone run their tongue over. There is an
awkward silence before I begin to reach out to accept his introduction.
"Olivia Drake." My eyes get caught up in his gorgeous baby blues for
a few seconds before I realize our hands are still touching. I pull back slowly
"Olivia Drake, what has you headed to New York City?" Telling a
stranger any more about myself is completely out of the question, so I
quickly decide to be as vague as possible.
"Me, too. Do you travel there often?"
"No, this is my first time."
The drinks arrive and he immediately asks for a second drink of the
same. "The lady will have what I'm having." His persistence is such a pain
in my ass. This flight is going to be torture if I continue to let him get to me
so I send the flight attendant a smile in agreement.
He leans back in his seat in such a relaxed state next to my very
straight, upright and uptight posture. Taking note of that makes me realize
I am stiff and tense. I prefer to call it focused and driven, but those words
don't really explain my posture.
I try to relax a bit by leaning the seat back and decide to prove to
myself that I'm not stiff. He offers me the Jack and Coke just as I have this
epiphany, so I gladly accept his challenge.
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About the Author
Hilary Storm lives with her high school sweetheart and three children in
Enid, Oklahoma. She drives her husband crazy talking about book characters
everyday like they are real people. She graduated from Southwestern
Oklahoma State University with an MBA in Accounting. Her passions include
being a mom, writing, reading, photography, music, mocha coffee, and
spending time with friends and family. She is the international best selling
author of the Rebel Walking Series.
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