K.L. Donn's Blog, page 3

Grinched Excerpt

“Oh, dammit.” Georgina Grant was anything but organized. Her house was a mess, and she kept stubbing her toes on boxes full of crap she had no idea what to do with.

After moving out of her brother Jack’s home six months ago when he and Nadia started trying for a baby, she was lucky to find such a steal of a house in Surrey. It was more like a large cabin than a house, but for it worked well for her.

She was one tiny person that didn’t own a lot, or so she had thought. So, having a dozen boxes still unpacked drove even her frazzled mind nuts.

Diagnosed with ADHD when she was thirteen made Gigi more self-conscious than she already had been. There had never been a doubt that she was different than her classmates but having it confirmed left a scar.

She was lucky to finish college with the grades she did and land such an amazing job that kept her from having to sit for too long as a youth counsellor. Working primarily with kids similar to her, Gigi found she actually had been helping the youths she worked with at the Boys and Girls Club in White Rock.

Some of the kids were more difficult behaviourally-wise, and others were so closed off that she had a hard time making eye contact with them. The reward from every smile, every successful homework session, made it worth the effort, though. She was making a difference in those kids’ lives, and that’s all she cared about until Sonny Powell came along and shattered her confidence. Now, she was left picking up the pieces and struggling to keep from showcasing it to the kids and her brother. Jack was overprotective. Even with a wife and new baby on the way, he’d always been her warrior.

Moving out was supposed to be a good thing. Now, she was just lonely and miserable with all the damn boxes strewn about.

Just as she was about to pour a cup of her favorite vanilla tea, a loud banging on the door shocked her, and she spilt the boiling water on her hand instead.

“Son of a bitch!” Clenching her teeth, she turned the cool water on and called out, “I’ll be right there,” to whoever was making such a ruckus.

Wrapping her hand in a towel, she stumbled over a large box on the way to the entrance. As she opened the door, she was startled by two things at once: there was a smoking hot man dressed as Santa standing there and about a foot and a half of snow on the ground—the precipitation so heavy, it spilt in the door as Santa walked through it.

“I don’t think we’re going to be going to that party today,” Santa grumbled behind the white beard covering his face.

It took a minute before the voice registered, and she was left even more surprised. “James?”

His gaze narrowed on her as he shed the bright red coat and shook it off outside before closing the door and hanging it on the hook on the back of it. “Who did you think it was?” He was grouchy. The man should be dressed as the Grinch and not Santa.

“Well, no one, honestly. The party was called off last night because the forecast had been calling for all this snow,” Gigi explained as she walked back to the sink.

“What do you mean, last night?” he snapped.

“Why are you dressed as Santa? And why are you here?” Ignoring his question, her own curiosity heightened. Gigi had crushed on James for a long time and seeing him here when she was already feeling defenseless wasn’t good for either of them.

“Seriously, Gigi?” Why the heck did he sound so pissed at her? It’s not like she controlled the weather.

“What, James? What did I do to offend you this time?” As much as she liked him, he continuously seemed annoyed with her, so she was perpetually trying to move on from her feelings for the stubborn man.

“You had Jack ask me to do this, even knowing snow was coming. You couldn’t have called me, at least, so I didn’t waste my time?” He blew out an irritated breath as she tried to figure out what he was talking about. Gigi had never asked Jack to do anything. “That’s inconsiderate, even for you, Gigi.”

She flinched at his words. He didn’t know what Sonny had called her before he walked out so he couldn’t understand the hurt. She turned away from him, not wanting him to see the emotions on her face.

“I didn’t ask Jack to do anything, James. This entire thing was his idea.” Her words were solemn, and she felt every bit the flake that everyone called her even though this wasn’t her fault.

“Why else would he ask me then? And why couldn’t you have called him to tell him it was cancelled. You wasted everyone’s time with your foolishness again.”

Kick a girl while she’s down.

“Look, James, I get it that you don’t like me. You don’t like my personality, and you think I’m a ditz. I can’t help any of those things any more than I can help why you’re here. I never asked Jack to recruit you to help me out. In fact, I told him that I was going to do it on my own. Not once did he inform me that he was going to ask someone to help, so I had no reason for telling him the party was cancelled.” Taking a deep breath so the tears she’d been struggling to hold on to didn’t fall, she finished with, “I’m sorry you find me to be such an annoyance, but for once, I did nothing wrong.”

Why did him finding her to be so odd hurt so much? Sure, she’d crushed on him for a long time, but he’d never been all that nice to her.

Turning her back to him, Gigi returned to running the cold water over her burn. What she had expected to happen was for the front door to slam shut and James to be out of her life again. The man got under her skin unlike anyone else she’d known. What actually happened was that he quietly walked up behind her, his hands gripping her elbows as they slowly slid down to her hands.

“What’s the matter here?” His whispered question in her ear did things to her body she hadn’t felt in far too long.

“Your knock startled me, and I spilt my tea water.” Her tone matched his.

“I’m sorry.” The hot puff of air on her neck froze her in place. “I’m sorry I’m such a dick, Gi. I’m sorry that dick of an ex didn’t treat you right, as well.”

“How do you know about that?”

“Pepper told me.”

Damn her friend. “She wasn’t supposed to.”

“I’d have found out anyway.” There was something to his voice she couldn’t decipher. Almost like he was angry that Sonny was a jerk.

Shrugging, she tried to play it off like no big deal. “It’s fine. Everyone treats me the same.”

The words barely passed her lips when James spun her around and crowded her into the sink with his big frame. “They shouldn’t, though. I shouldn’t have. You’re special, Gigi, and you should be treated like it.”

What the hell was with this guy? In the fifteen minutes he’d been at her house, his attitude went from volatile to comforting, and she was left reeling.

“What’s going on, James?” His stare kept darting from her eyes to her lips, and a warmth ran the length of her spine.

“Things change, Georgina. Feelings grow,” he murmured, leaning into her. Their eyes held until his lips covered hers, and she couldn’t help the way she responded.

Unrestrained Prologue

Prologue

“Stop, oh God, stop!” He wouldn’t listen.

It was then that Pepper Wallace knew he was out to kill her. She’d finally summoned the courage to leave after days of him trying to force her into going further than she was ready for. Only, he’d rather beat her to death. Not for the first time, she feared this might be the end.

His grip in her hair was punishing.

“Where do you think you’re going to go?” he growled against her cheek, biting the flesh. The sting of ripping skin made her whimper.

“Please,” she begged again. Hope was dwindling. Blood dripped down her chin from the bite he just took out of her cheek and the bloody nose he’d given her.

His laughter rang loud in the otherwise empty chalet they were staying at. A supposed romantic weekend to get to know one another. She knew she shouldn’t have let her best friend, Tami, talk her into going. She should have trusted her gut. He was Tami’s brother’s friend, though, so she should have been able to have confidence in that.

“You’re mine, you fat bitch!” Grabbing the front of her sweater, he tossed her against the wall. The crack and vibration of her skull bouncing off it made her dizzy. Nausea rolled through her gut, and her vision blurred. “I’ve had my eye on you for longer than you know.”

Shrinking into the wall, she had no other option than to give into his demands until she could escape or die right then and there. She wasn’t ready to die.

For as long as Pepper could remember, she had always longed for a love so strong and so consuming that she couldn’t breathe. She wanted the love she read about in books. Unfortunately, as his boot came towards her face, she knew she was never going to experience that. Pain sliced through her skull like a thousand jackhammers. The nausea in her stomach became full-fledged vomiting, and the dizziness turned to black.

The last thing Pepper remembered was icy coldness.

Blinking her eyes open slowly, she watched as a heavy snow fell onto her, enveloping her in whiteness.

She didn’t even remember being moved outside.

Consumed Prologue

Prologue

Sergeant Casey John Risley heard the sounds of his fellow soldiers swearing, praying… apologizing?

Why are they apologizing?

For some reason, that was what he was most worried about. Not the fact he could feel his life bleeding out of him or that Dom kept threatening to kick his ass.

This is war guys; we know what we’re in for, he told them. At least, he thought he did.

Hey, why are the lights dimming? What’s going on?

Then he realized they were outside in the desert.

The lights weren’t dimming. He was dying.

Dom’s so gonna kick my ass.

“You hang the fuck on, Casey!” Dom yelled in his face.

* * *

Whoop, whoop, whoop.

Sliding in and out of consciousness constantly, he registered the sound of the Halo’s rotors just as it landed. His vision was full of smoke and swirling sand. Still confused about what had happened, he screamed as Dom tossed him over his shoulder.

“You’re gonna be fine, Case. Just hang on,” Dom told him as he was strapped down to the flat board. He thought it must be pretty bad if they weren’t even doing a field assessment.

Just as the idea hit him, he went light-headed and felt like he was being lifted from his body.

“Dom?” he croaked, his voice dry and scratchy.

Seeing his friend’s face staring down at him, he looked pissed as hell. Dom was saying something too, but for the life of him, he couldn’t make it out.

As his eyes closed, Casey realized he had one regret.

His parents were right.

The Army killed him.

* * *

“He’s coding!”

Who’s that?

“Nurse, get the crash cart!”

“What the fuck is going on?”

Oh, he recognized Dom’s angry voice. Why can I hear these voices when it feels like I’m floating?

Searing pain raced through his chest as if his lungs were on fire. His back bowed, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head, but he still couldn’t move.

What is happening to me? He wondered just as blackness took him under.

* * *

What is that noise?

There was a buzzing sound rattling in his ear. Like a swarm of bees about to attack and annoying as fuck. When his body started to vibrate, pain slowly made its way up his body. His heart was racing out of control, feeling like it was about to explode from his chest. He forced his eyes open, hoping he could talk to someone, but it wasn’t working. Confusion settled in. Where was he? What was happening?

The last thing he remembered was ushering civilians out of a war zone.

Shit.

* * *

“He’s coming to. Get the doctor.” Doctor? “You’re fine, Case, just relax.”

Why does Dom sound so emotional? The hard-headed bastard has no emotions.

When he lifted his arms, they felt like they were flailing. Like he had no muscles.

What the fuck is going on? Panic started to bubble up when he realized he had a tube down his throat.

Reaching for it, he felt hands on his arms holding him down. “Just hang on a minute, Casey. The doctor will be here soon.”

Stop fucking placating me, Dom! He wanted to scream.

The longer he had to wait, the more anxious he became. His body was thrashing about, yet he felt sort of disconnected from it all.

As movement became easier with each passing minute, Casey really began to fight Dom, pushing him back. When he attempted to slide his legs off the bed was the moment he realized something had happened. Something every soldier knew was a possibility yet prayed never happened to them.

My leg is gone.

* * *

“Casey, are you listening?” The physician asked for the hundredth time.

He was listening alright. He was just having a hard time believing it was his new reality.

Rehab?

Prosthetic leg?

Honorable discharge…

If he were honest with himself, it was the third thing on that list that bothered him the most. He’d never done anything with his life before he joined the Rangers. He was a grade A dick all through school. Couldn’t hold a steady anything to save his life. Grades sucked. Football was his only escape from the constant nagging and discipline at home.

Now, here he was twenty-five years old and reduced to nothing because of one wrong fucking step. He was having a hard time believing the way his life was going to be now.

Crippled.

Handicap.

Just fucking great.

Anger was burning a hole in his gut. Depression was setting in. Denial wracked his brain. So many things were overwhelming his mind, and this doctor wanted him to talk about it? Not fucking likely. Who the fuck would want to get in his fucked up head anyway.

“I fucking got it, Doc,” he growled, turning to look out the window in his room. Couldn’t even fucking walk away. He had to sit there like a chump.

Fuck this.

Owned excerpt

Chapter One

As soon as the clock struck midnight, Deidre was gone. Creeping out the old windows of her boarding school was easy as pie. Climbing the barbed wire fence, not so much. Aside from the cuts all over her legs and arms, she managed to do it.

Not looking back, she ran into the street trying to get as far away from the horrible school as she could before they did the nighttime bed check in an hour. Legally, she was free to do as she wished now that she was eighteen; however, her father and the nuns didn’t see it that way.

She’d been rebelling against any authority for as long as she could remember. The only people to ever give a damn about her had already left, so what was the point of trying to be accepted? She couldn’t live life for anyone else anymore. It was time for her to take control and do what was best for herself.

Since arriving in Lugano, Switzerland a little less than seven years ago, she’d not had a single moment for herself. Every day was planned. Every minute was scrutinized. Maintaining a strict diet and exercise regimen had been expected from the moment she got there. Feeling more like she was being trained for something than receiving an education.

What little she had been able to see of Switzerland from behind the confines of the school was stunning. The small city they were in was surrounded by gorgeous mountains and covered in a variety of full green trees. She couldn’t begin to name them other than to know they were beautiful.

Lake Lugano bordered the breathtaking city, sharing its eastern shore with northern Italy. That was what she was banking on to be able to exit the country. She’d heard from other girls that had been allowed to leave the school that there were boat taxi’s waiting to take her right into Italy and from there, she could rent a car.

The only reason she had any money was because her mam had been sending her some as often as she could, and she had saved every euro since she arrived. By her estimation, she had roughly fifty thousand Swiss Francs. Hopefully enough to get her to Ireland and her mam.

She had to wait on going home, though, because she knew her da would search for her there. The waiting would be the hard part. Her mam didn’t know she was coming, so she might be worried if he showed up there looking for her, but she couldn’t risk him finding her. Something was going on with him; he’d been checking in more and more of late. It was suspicious.

Killer Prince Excerpt

Chapter One

Noelle

“Good morning; welcome to The Snug. What can I get you?” I smile at the woman and her young daughter as they take their time choosing a treat and a drink.

“Oh, I don’t know,” the woman says, looking slightly embarrassed as they can’t decide. “What do you suggest?” She finally looks at me when the man behind her huffs out his impatience.

“Well”—my grin widens—“personally, I love these brown sugar muffins with a steaming cup of coffee or a cold glass of strawberry milk.” I wink at the little girl who giggles behind her book.

“Perfect, we’ll get that.” The mom smiles gratefully at me.

After ringing her up and getting them their treats, I drop all pretense of being cheery for the jerk with a scowl on his face.

“What can I get you?” His eyes roam across my chest with a lascivious look I could do without.

“You,” he chuckles. “Black coffee and a bran muffin,” he continues when he sees I don’t find his comment funny.

“It’ll be ready over there.” I point to the pickup station.

He scoffs. “You got theirs here. I don’t have time to wait because of their pickiness.”

“I made a special exception for them; they were cute. You’re not.” Ignoring him, I try to help the next customer when the man leans forward.

“Listen, you little bitch-”

He’s cut off by a hand squeezing the back of his neck. “Call her a bitch again. I dare you.” The hotty with the dirty-blond hair and soulful blue eyes who has been coming in here for a month now drawls in his ear.

“Get the fuck off me!” the detestable man snaps.

“Apologize first.” He must squeeze harder because the guy drops to his knees.

“Fuck,” the mean man murmurs. “I’m sorry.” Letting go as quickly as he latched on, the stranger stands back so the other can take his leave. Not without tossing a threatening glare my way first.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dangerous says, keeping his focus on the other guy until he exits the shop.

“Not the first time I’ve run into a jerk, won’t be the last. But thank you. Now, what can I get for you? On me.” I share a genuine smile as he turns back to face me.

I’m ensnared by his startling dark cerulean gaze as his eyes rake over me from top to bottom. He’s inspecting me, I realize, and turn away slightly, knowing he’ll notice the bruise on my shoulder and neck that my shirt refuses to hide.

His Fight Excerpt

“I can’t wait to get my tongue between these thighs of yours, amore. Taste your sweet cream. Watch you come all over my face.” She melts against me. “You’d like that wouldn’t you, Amalia? After watching them?”

“I want to.” She breathes the words, her eyes transfixed on the couple in front of us. “I want to be lost the way she is. To be a slave to my lust and enjoy it.”

“The fear stops you.” I know being here isn’t a cure-all. Amalia has years of work ahead of her. I plan to be there every step of the way too. To be her rock when she needs one.

At her nod, I kiss the side of her neck, inhaling her sweet scent, and tell her, “Look at them. Really look. What do you see? What do you like?”

Her head rolls from side to side as she watches them critically. Her nails dig into my arms seconds before she speaks. “His touch is reverent. Like he worships her.” Surprisingly, she turns in my arms, gripping my shirt in both of her tiny fists. “But it’s the way he watches her. The look in his eyes as he’s thrusting that I want.”

My eyes narrow as unexpected jealousy inflames the blood in my veins. “I want that. The need, desire, craving to be everything she is. The attentive way he takes cues from her reactions when touching her in certain spots.”

Gripping her hips, I step in closer to her body, allowing Amalia to feel the erection behind my jeans because I need her to know that I’m damn sure ready to give her absolutely everything she wants or needs. But it’s the look in her eyes that stops me from commenting.

“I ache to be the center of someone’s universe, Santi. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to crave something for myself. You’ve reminded me of that. I’m not ready for sex or intimacy. Not yet. But this”—her hand waves between us and around the room—“I’m ready to explore this because before Bart, before he ruined me, I had dreams of you. Of the way you would be obsessed with me but genuinely love me, and I want...no I need...that. More than my next breath.”

“You dreamed of me, huh?” Her hand taps my chest playfully when I smirk.

“Not specifically.” Christ, she’s gorgeous when she smiles. “But I couldn’t have imagined a better man than you.”

Tilting up her chin, I lean down, giving her time to pull away before settling my lips over hers. It’s cautious at first, just our lips touching, breathing in the same air, but then she raises up on her toes. I slide my hands down her ass, squeezing the globes before lifting her in my arms and stepping back as her legs wrap around my waist. Sitting down, she settles in my lap as I deepen the kiss.

Nipping at her lip, I suck on it before fucking my tongue into her mouth and tangling with hers, exploring every crevice as she struggles to pull in air. Moving away, I kiss along her jaw and down to her ear, whispering, “Breathe,” as I suck on the lobe. “When you’re ready for more, I will be here, amore. I’ll show you there isn’t a piece of you that shouldn’t be worshipped and revered.”

Tortured Duchess excerpt

Chapter 1

Hadley

Music pounds. My hips sway. The scent of sweat and desperation permeates the air as I move across the dance floor. Hands above my head, feet agilely gliding left to right. I can feel all eyes on me as I swing seductively around the new club in town.

Peaches & Cream is one of the few places you can enter without having to be twenty-one. I'm wearing a special stamp so I’m not served alcohol, but I don’t mind. I’m not here to deaden my senses; I’m here to celebrate my eighteenth birthday a little late.

My best friends, Aria and Lake, are here too. Aria is sandwiched between her men, Seven and Severo, as they struggle to keep their hands off her while Lake sits at the bar sipping a club soda. Saint Rivers is hovering, scaring off any man from five feet away.

Opening my eyes as I drop my head back, rolling it on my shoulders, I meet the stare of a mysterious man on the private balcony. Turning to face him a little more, I notice he looks pissed—more like filled with rage—as I feel his intense stare scorch me. I watch as he reaches down to adjust his manhood, and when he makes no further move to catch my attention, I turn away.

Feeling steady, unfamiliar hands on my hips, I force myself not to push them off. I'll allow it to get the mystery man to come to me. Also, Bishop Kincaid is keeping an eye on me. He’s been like a brother my entire life, and just as with the rest of the boys, I know he won’t let anything happen to me. My father, Castiel Adair, would slaughter anyone who dares take from me what I won't give freely either.

“Hands off, asshole,” I hear Bishop growl as he stands in front of me, arms crossed, a deadly stare focused on the man behind me.

As the guy removes his hands, I decide he's not worthy of my time if he retreats. It’s how I rate all men who show interest, which happens a lot. I have my mother’s gorgeous blonde hair, soft curves, and model-like looks. I’m not vain; I don’t necessarily like the attention, but when I get it, it’s sometimes nice.

“Thanks, Bish.” I smile up at my friend as he glowers at all the other males around us.

“Stop tempting them, and I might not have to commit murder tonight.” I laugh at his threat. I know he means it, but it’s funny all the same.

“I can take care of myself, you know? Spent a lifetime training how to kick a man in the nuts and run,” I joke as I spin, the mystery man from earlier now gone. I try not to think too hard about the disappointment that settles in my belly.

“Doesn’t mean you should have to break one of those pretty nails,” he retorts. “Fuck.” He curses, and I stop moving, glancing back at him to find his eyes fixated on Saint with his hand around a man’s neck, holding him two feet off the ground. Lake is cowering under the bar, and I see red too.

Vasyl Prologue

Prologue

Vasyl

One Month Ago.

Leaning against the railing of the Potemkin Stairs as the sun sets on the horizon, I turn as I hear laughter so lyrical that shivers race up and down my spine. I’ve never heard anything like it before. My eyes search for the source of the sound, and even though the person is no longer laughing, I find her.

Light blonde hair, not tall but not short, round hips, and a sense of confidence that I find refreshing as she talks animatedly to the group of children in front of her.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” I growl at the interruption when I see Artem Smirnov slide next to me. The man is a snake if I’ve ever met one. He owes anyone stupid enough to loan him money because of his gambling addiction, and now that he’s got his eyes on the girl I want to claim as my own, I’d like to rip his skull from his body.

“How much do you want, Artem?” I don’t bother to acknowledge the woman. She could become a weakness before I’m able to protect her.

From the way his eyes slither from the woman and he turns his body away as she faces our way, I get the feeling he knows her. “One thousand hryvnia.”

My bark of laughter catches her attention, and for a second, our eyes meet. When her focus slides to my companion, a frown mars her beautiful face, and I know she knows him. “Can you afford to pay that back, Artem?” I know he can’t.

But my plans involve something a little more sinister to ensure I get what I want.

If my suspicions are correct.

His Jailbird Prologue

Prologue

Nicola

14 Years Old.

“Kneel, Nicola,” my adoptive father barks his command at me.

Surveying my surroundings, I meet the eyes of each impeccably dressed man as I stand in the center of the room. They circle me like vultures, and I get the distinct feeling that I’m on display.

“What’s happening?” I mumble. A strike of fear nearly overtakes my body. I’m not stupid. I spend a lot of time getting into enough trouble to recognize it.

“I said kneel,” he snaps, and grips the perfect braid the maid wove in my hair only a few minutes ago and tugs until I fall to my knees.

Tears spring forward, but I refuse to allow them to fall. I won’t show weakness. Not here. Not for this man. Not ever.

“The bidding will start at 250,000 euros.” I stare in shock at the man who brought me to his home when I was four. The man I’ve called father since I was five. The man who taught me to ride a bike and kick high on the swings. The man who was supposed to protect me, and suddenly, a sick sort of sense is made as I watch these men raise their hands as the number climbs and climbs.

“Please don’t do this,” I beg. My sharp nails dig into the palm of my hand so I don’t cry. I refuse to show any weakness.

I’m ignored. Merely a pawn in this room of sick men looking for something I’m either too young to understand or don’t want to face.

“Sold!” he cheers, and I don’t hear the final amount because I’m trying not to vomit on the beautiful rug beneath my knees.

A rug that supported me as I played with Barbies and cars. Twirled in pretty dresses and danced until my legs felt like jelly. A carpet where I had playdates and drank tea with my mom.

Mom.

Where is she in this? Does she know he’s selling me?

As I’m gripped by the elbow and dragged out of the room, I see her, and she smiles. At first, I think it’s for me, but then Father comes out behind me and announces an astronomical number, and I’m suddenly reduced to nothing.

“Nicola, meet your new master, Santo Cardarelli.” I’m too stunned to speak as I stare at the man in front of me with his cold eyes and emotionless face.

They’ve just sold me to the devil.

His Kingdom Prologue

Prologue

Natale

Woken from a dead sleep with a hand across my mouth and my mother’s voice in my ear, “Quickly, Natale, we must leave,” I know all hell has finally broken loose in our Sicilian home. The sounds of gunfire and men fighting reach my bedroom, and I know tonight my life will change forever.

My papà, Carlo, is the capo of the Morello family. With his title comes enemies. Danger. Death.

Tonight, it appears to be death.

And I have one job.

Protect my mother.

Grasping her hand in mine, I lead her to my closet, where there is a hidden door and a gun on the shelf.

Only we don’t make it.

An opposing enforcer bursts through my bedroom door with gun in hand, blood splattered across his chest, dripping from a wound in his head. And I watch in horror as he raises the weapon, aiming for the one piece of light in mine and my father’s lives.

“Mamma, nooo!” I scream, throwing my twelve-year-old body in front of hers. I don’t feel the piercing pain as we crash to the ground.

I don’t hear the blood-curdling scream from the woman I just protected.

I do see my father standing behind the man who fired the shot as he rips his Adam’s apple from his throat. The man’s body drops to the ground like a bag of garbage as both my parents kneel over the top of me.

Mamma’s eyes are filled with terror and tears.

Papà’s are filled with pride and sadness.

I am his only son, and I can feel the life leaving my body as they beg me to stay.

“Do not cry for me, Mamma, St. Nicholas awaits me,” I whisper.

“Mio figlio, too wise for your years. Don’t go yet, stay strong for me,” she pleads, leaning down to kiss my cheek as I hear Papà screaming at someone.

Too tired to stay awake, my eyes drift shut, and I suffer only a second of regret that I never got to experience the love my parents have.