A shadow of a man. A whole heart. Another failed chance. And a love so unexpected and strong. But will it be enough, and will it be in time to save someone from the noose....
Sure, I ain't no saint. Never said I was. Tell me you've never made a mistake, and I'll call you a liar. But I'm about to make another one. At least that's what going after Nash Paxton is, according to everyone else. Admittedly, I'm not the best listener, either. Until I take that ride into the bushes, seeking him out. Then I listen. I listen real good, too. Of course, one would listen up if it means saving someone's life. Turns out that everyone was right this one damn time. But now it's too late...and I know too much.
***
It wasn't meant for anyone to see. Especially Braylynn. But I only told her what I had to. Least of all the reason I was doing what I was doing. The rest will go with me to the grave if I have my way about it. She turns out to be way more than I thought or could ever want. And she didn't have to do any of it, either, but she did it all the same. And when it comes time to pay the piper, knowing what she did to me not twenty-four hours ago, my heart and my brain have trouble deciding. And then I run out of time.... just as her clock runs out...
Autorentext
Some have said that if you see me on the street (usually with a book in hand or a laptop fired up), I appear a cold, hard-fisted person. However, once we've spoken for five minutes or less, you'll have laughed at least once. That is, provided you appreciate sarcastic, self-deprecating wit.
My first short story was penned in middle school and I was hooked ever since.
I graduated with honours from Humber College and began working as an Administrative Coordinator for a large, multinational corporation shortly afterward. Quickly learning that the corporate world, despite the love I had for my job, is a slow killer of creativity, I chose to quit during maternity leave in 2006.
Difficulty thinking outside the box soon evaporated when I received something that didn't come in one: my first child. While at home with the baby my imaginative energy got the better of me and my first memoir was written. It had been a dream of mine to write about my late father, who passed away from alcoholism in 1992, and it took me two years to compose a fifty-page manuscript, but I did it.
After my second daughter was born in 2008 I had more fuel to write, and felt it necessary to voice the challenges and inherent gifts I acquired during my struggles with Scoliosis. Hence, my second memoir was born. The words flowed out of me with such ease I shocked myself.
My love for words grew with each book I read and every word I wrote. I soon realized I had no more material to write non-fiction, which led me to take a stab at fiction. The next two books were such a revelation: it became more and more clear what my true calling was. The rest, as they say, is history!