Sandy Lo's Blog, page 23

Book Sake Giveaway & Guest Blog Post

You can get another chance to win a copy of “The Watch Dog” at Book Sake!  Check out Sandy Lo’s guest blog post where she gives insight on her characters’ insecurities and favorite comfort foods.  Read the post and enter the giveaway here: http://booksake.blogspot.com/2012/12/guest-post-giveaway-sandy-lo-author-of.html

Press: New Interview & Giveaway on Live To Read!

Sandy Lo was interviewed by Krystal from www.livetoread-krystal.blogspot.com. Sandy discusses details of “The Watch Dog” like her favorite scene to write and which character she would be.  Plus, Live To Read is giving away a free copy of the book!  All you have to do is go to this link and leave a comment.

Read the interview: http://livetoread-krystal.blogspot.com/2012/11/the-watch-dog-by-sandy-lo-interview-and.html

Chapter 11 from The Watch Dog for #SampleSunday

Kindle: $7.99
Paperback (Lulu.com): $15.96

“The Watch Dog” is about Garrett “Rett” Baker, a man who alienated himself from everyone who loved him.  He screwed his life up and is forced to return to his small hometown outside Nashville, TN to face his family and people he hurt.  He winds up living in his Grandmother’s old house and it isn’t long before he finds himself awoken every night by the ghost of his childhood dog who seems to be trying to lead him somewhere…

 

Garrett woke up alone.  He offered for Tamra Jean to stay, but she wouldn’t.  He was surprised.  He figured she would be the type of girl to get attached—especially to him.  If he were completely honest with himself, part of him wished she did stay.  He didn’t want to be alone, especially come three-fifteen-am.

The train whistle blew, but Garrett decided he wasn’t going to chase after it.  He was going to ignore it and try to sleep through it.  He lies there, however, staring at the ceiling, listening.

The clanking of the freight train chugging along the old tracks made his chest pound.  For a moment, he imagined himself chasing the train.  In the next moment, he imagined himself jumping in front of the train.

Wouldn’t it be easier on everyone that way? He thought.

His mother wouldn’t have to worry about him any longer.  His brother didn’t have to deal with him.  Tamra Jean could have a tragic love story—the kind she always read in middle school.  Pastor Philip could give the sermon at his funeral, explaining what a sad and wrong path Garrett Baker took.  Philip would encourage everyone to pray for his soul burning in hell.

Mostly, the vision was a selfish one, though.  Garrett didn’t want to fight through life any longer.  He didn’t want to worry how he would get money or about doing the right or wrong thing.  He didn’t want to hurt or be afraid or judged.  He wanted it all to end.

He wondered how he would do it, if he were going to do it.  He thought about the truck in his driveway.  Carbon monoxide poisoning seemed painless.

 

Maybe his mother would have wished she junked the truck years ago then.

As Garrett felt like he might actually go through with ending his life, he heard the distinct howl.  It was Brownie’s howl, he was sure of it now.  Brownie rarely barked, but when she wanted to play she would howl and wag her tail so frantically, her whole behind would sway along with it.  The sound would start off low and increasingly get louder until it was a full blown wolf’s howl.  Garrett used to mimic her sounds back to her, which only caused her to get more excited before she’d take off running and he would chase her.

She was summoning him out of the house at three-fifteen-am—she’d been doing it since he moved in.  He didn’t know why or how it was even possible.  They never chased the train together at this hour when she was alive.  It was always the four o’clock train before dinner.  Maybe Brownie’s spirit was changing the routine so the locals wouldn’t think he had gone crazy, he thought.

“But you are crazy, Rett,” he grumbled to himself before throwing back the covers.

He peeked out the window and didn’t see anything.

“You’re going to have to do better than a howl in the night, girl,” he sighed, about to get back into bed.

Just as he pulled the comforter back, he could hear a chain rattling downstairs.  It was eerie.  Scratching at the door followed a moment later.  Garrett was afraid to move.  Why though?  If it were Brownie making all of this noise, she would never try to hurt him.  Or would she?  Maybe she was angry with him for how he ruined his life.  Maybe she was mad he left Cayuga in the first place.  Or what if it wasn’t Brownie?  What if it was some other ghost?

Garrett cursed himself.

“You don’t believe in ghosts, ass!”

At least he didn’t think he did.  He wasn’t even sure if he believed in God anymore, even though he sometimes still found himself praying at night.

Garrett’s curiosity and boredom alone gave him the courage to get out of bed.  He threw on some sweats, boots and a fleece jacket.  The temperature actually dropped last night, finally showing real signs of winter in Tennessee.

The rattling chain sounded like it was being dragged along the floor at the foot of the stairs.  As he slowly approached the top step, he could see the silver metal lying at the landing of the staircase.  The house was silent.

“Brownie?” He called, turning on the light before heading down the stairs, again, slowly.

“Come here, girl.”

He whistled and suddenly, the howling started up again.  Garrett hurried down the rest of the steps and darted at the front door, unlocking it and swinging it open.  There she was, sitting on the porch, with her tail wagging.  Her brown coat was like rustic wood with white paws.  Granny Kate always used to say it looked like Brownie was wearing shoes due to the contrast of the white and brown fur.

Garrett almost wept at the mere sight of her.  Gone was his fear.  Gone was his logic.  All he could see was Brownie—the one unconditional comfort from childhood.  He ran to her, hoping she wouldn’t disappear if he got too close.  Before he could wrap his arms around her, Brownie stood up and ran down the steps.

“No!” Garrett yelled.  “Brownie…” he huffed, his voice slightly hoarse.

She stopped and turned, letting out a small howl before running toward the tracks.  She wanted Garrett to follow her and he obliged.

Garrett ran; his breath showing in the cold air as he did so.  His construction boots, clunking against the gravel road near the tracks, was drowned out by the sound of the train going by.  He could barely see Brownie running in front of him, but Garrett still followed.

Something inside of him felt alive as he ran.  He felt like a young boy again seeking a thrill; looking to have fun; looking to escape.  He used to dream about hitching a ride on one of the trains—just him and Brownie.  They would go off to some place in the country where horses ran free.

Garrett had almost forgotten that was what he dreamed of back then—farms and taking care of animals.  He didn’t think about money or power or girls yet.  He just wanted to be free and safe.

Before he realized it, Garrett had chased Brownie to the train tunnel.  He stopped short and wondered where she went.  He glanced around, but he didn’t see Brownie anywhere.  It was as if she disappeared into thin air.

Garrett was gasping from exertion and shock.  He put his hands on his knees and tried to catch his breath.  It was still dark out and Garrett began to walk back.  He was angry with Brownie for leading him outside in the middle of the night—and angry with himself for being dumb enough to follow her.  He wondered if he was hallucinating.

About halfway back, Garrett heard someone else’s footsteps on the gravel.  The noise wasn’t as loud as his boots, but he could still hear it now in the silence of the early morning.

He turned around and there stood a dog.  For a moment, Garrett was sure it was Brownie.  She had the same coloring and was the same size.  He breathed her name out, but he realized the dog wasn’t Brownie.  This dog did not have white on its paws and it was not a girl.

Garrett stepped closer and the dog backed away.  It was then he could see the dog was practically a puppy still.  There was a collar around his neck with a silver tag that Garrett wanted to get to.  He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving this dog on the tracks, afraid of a train hitting him.

“It’s okay, boy,” he said, approaching the dog once more.

The dog cried as he backed away again.  Garrett knelt down, held his hand out and whistled.  The dog’s tail wagged and he took a step forward.

“I won’t hurt you.”

The dog hung his head down, but still kept his eyes on Garrett, looking sad as he walked to him.  He sniffed the hand extended to him and licked it briefly before curling his body into Garrett, allowing him to pet him.

“Where’s your home, huh?  Did your family give up on you, too?” Garrett asked.

The dog was now jumping on him, loving the attention he was getting from Garrett’s fingers through his fur.  Garrett reached over and looked at the tag on the dog’s collar.

“Cash?” Garrett read the name on the tag aloud.

The dog’s tail wagged harder at hearing his name.

“Typical for Tennessee, huh boy?” He chuckled.  “I guess it is a pretty cool name.”

He scratched behind Cash’s ear and the dog panted.  Garrett thought to keep the dog for himself.  Maybe Cash is whom Brownie was leading him to.  She wanted him to have a new dog.  Then Garrett thought about the address on the tag.  Some family could be missing Cash.  Some little boy, who depended on Cash, like Garrett had depended on Brownie, could be devastated.

“Come on, let’s get you back home.”

Garrett began pulling the dog back toward the house by the collar.  The sky was now cerulean rather than midnight blue.  Every once in a while, Cash would tug Garrett back—almost as if he didn’t trust him completely.  I don’t blame you, Garrett thought.

Once back at the house, Garrett checked the time and it was just past five-am.  He wondered if he should return Cash at this hour or wait until later in the morning.  Garrett let go of Cash’s collar and he didn’t try to run.  He let out a small cry and nudged Garrett’s hand, as if to let him know he was finally trusted.  Garrett began petting him with a firm hand, to which Cash responded by leaning his body against Garrett’s legs.  Cash looked up at Garrett with his big brown eyes.  They were so much like Brownie’s.

Suddenly, Garrett was angry that whomever Cash belonged to would be as careless to let him out in the middle of the night unattended.  He didn’t care about waking the owner up now.  Garrett went into the house and got the keys to the truck.  He picked Cash up and put him in the passenger seat before going around the other side.

The engine of the truck startled Cash for a moment, his ears rising.  Garrett scratched behind the dog’s left ear to comfort him.  He turned the radio on as he drove, and all he could find was country or blue grass, and then there was the Christian station.  Garrett sighed and settled on 107.5 The River, which played Top 40 radio, as he pulled out of the driveway.  The station finished playing the latest Katy Perry song before going to a commercial.  And Garrett began his search again, not all that happy hearing pop music to begin with—he imagined Tamra Jean enjoying a song like that.  Growing up, she was always into what Garrett referred to as “teenybopper crap”.

Garrett found a classic rock station, which was still heavily influenced by country music.  He was singing along to Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Free Bird” as he pulled onto the gravel road leading up to the address on Cash’s collar.  2301 Norway Hill.  The house was about a mile away from the tracks.  There was a beat up Toyota Camry in the carport.  The small house was in worse condition than the car.  Shutters were practically falling off the windows.  The green paint on the house was chipping as well.

Cash’s tail was wagging as Garrett turned the engine off.

“Are you happy to be home?”

Cash responded by putting his paw on Garrett’s arm.  He got out of the car and decided to leave Cash there for the moment.  He wanted to make sure he was doing a good deed by bringing him home.  He felt protective of this dog he just met.  He felt like he cared about another living creature more than he has in an incredibly long time.  It was a bizarre feeling—caring so much.  He feared the dog was being mistreated, with that fear came pain.  With that pain came memories of his own pain, his fear of being mistreated—his fear of his mother and brother being mistreated.

Garrett rang the doorbell, opened the screen door and waited.  He didn’t hear any sound coming from inside the house.  He waited about a minute before ringing the bell repeatedly until he just held the button down.  It wasn’t before long that a light turned on and he heard movement from inside.

The front door swung open and Cori Davis stood there.  Her red hair was a mess.  She was barefoot with flannel pajama bottoms on and a long sleeved Henley shirt.  She looked furious—with good reason.  All she knew was some mad man was ringing her doorbell at five in the morning.  Seeing Garrett Baker standing on her doorstep through the peephole didn’t help her agitated state.

“I’m calling the cops, Rett,” she said with a hand on her hip.

Her heart-shaped face had no make-up on unlike when Garrett saw her on stage at Legend’s.  She looked younger now, almost like she did back in high school.  Something was different though.  He couldn’t quite place what it was.

“Do you think I’d come out here in the middle of the night to ding-dong ditch you?” Garrett rolled his eyes.

“It’s even worse.  You didn’t ditch.  You’re still here.”

Garrett ignored her comment.

“I didn’t know you lived here.  I found your dog,” he motioned to the truck.

Cori gasped, “What?  Where?”

“By the train tracks.”

“Oh God,” Cori put her hand to her forehead.

“How did he get out?”

Cori sighed and disappeared back into the house.  Garrett stood there unsure of what to do.  A moment later, Cori reappeared and let out an exasperated sigh.

“The back door was open.  There is a hole in the fence…”

“You don’t check the doors before bed?” Garrett asked.

She didn’t like how he was looking at her, as if she were stupid.

“My son…” she muttered.  “He must have left the door open.”

“Son?” Garrett was surprised.

“He’s seven.  I should have checked…” she shook her head, angry with herself.

Garrett saw something on her face.  Worry, mostly.

“I hope I didn’t wake him.”

“He’s a pretty sound sleeper,” she shrugged.

“Apologize to your husband for me.”

“I don’t have a husband.  Lyric’s father left when he was a baby.”

“Lyric?” Garrett raised his eyebrows.

“My son?” Cori reminded him, knowing he was going to make fun of the name.

“Cool name,” he said, surprising her.

“Thank you for bringing Cash back.”

“You’re welcome,” Garrett said, looking into her blue eyes.

He could see she hated having to thank him for anything.  She pushed past him, about to walk down the porch steps.

“I’ll get him.  You have no shoes on,” Garrett stopped her before jogging down the steps and over to his truck.  He opened the door and pulled Cash out.  The dog trotted toward Cori.

“Get in the house,” she said sternly while pointing to the doorway.

Cash hung his head down and headed into the house.  Cori looked at Garrett from the porch as he stood by the truck.  She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling the cold of the early morning air.

“I guess I’ll see ya around,” he said, running his boots over the gravel.

“Right,” she laughed.  “Maybe Sunday at church.”

She was being funny.  She knew he wouldn’t be at church.

“Right,” Garrett nodded before walking over to the driver’s side of the truck.

He looked back up at the porch.  Cori still stood there, protective of her home, as if she thought Garrett would destroy it.  He knew she had every right to feel that way.

It was then he realized what was different about Cori Davis, standing in the moonlight.  She was stronger than Garrett.  She knew all he saw her as was a fat girl, and she didn’t care anymore.  He could see what she thought of him now.  He was a loser to her, and she had always seen him that way.

For some reason, that bothered him suddenly.  He wasn’t sure why.  Maybe it was because everyone in town always loved Cori and hated him.

Just as Cori was about to turn away, Garrett called out to her.  She turned and he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Do you still sing at church?”

“Yeah, except now, I don’t get heckled by this jackass named Rett,” she said.

He had to laugh.  Another new thing about Cori Davis—she had a lot more sass than she used to.

“Good night, Cori.”

“Night, jackass,” she said, turning around and walking into the house.

Read the rest of the story…

 

 

The Watch Dog

Bad boy Rett Baker is being haunted by his past. Will he find redemption?

The Watch Dog is now available for Kindle & Paperback!

“The Watch Dog”, the new novel by Sandy Lo is now available for purchase on Kindle (Amazon.com) and in paperback (lulu.com).

Garrett “Rett” Baker has taken one too many wrong turns in life that slams him into a dead-end. He finds himself forced to return to his small town life in middle Tennessee where he left behind broken relationships and bad memories. With plans to leave as soon as he saves some cash, Garrett finds himself living in his deceased grandmother’s home. Bittersweet memories come rushing back to Garrett, and the ghosts of his past begin to haunt him. The one thing from his childhood he keeps trying to find–his long gone mutt, Brownie, seems to be what is leading him to places he doesn’t want to go, and people he never wanted to see again.

Read the Prologue & Chapter I…
Purchase: Kindle $7.99 / Paperback $19.95

The Watch Dog Book Promo Video

Sandy Lo posted a video on YouTube about her upcoming novel “The Watch Dog”. The video gives you the inside scoop about the concept of the book, the main characters and why Sandy relocated to Nashville to write it.

The Watch Dog Cover & Release Date!

Check out the cover of Sandy Lo’s upcoming 4th novel, “The Watch Dog”.  The book is set to be released on November 13, 2012 just in time for the holidays!  The cover was designed by Sandy.  To read a sneak peek of “The Watch Dog”, go here.

The Watch Dog - Prologue

Reblogged from Author Sandy Lo:

The barking was echoing through my skull; a low growl rang through my ears along with the bellowing howls.  I sprang up in the bed forgetting where I was.  My eyes adjusted to the moonlight from the window.  I ignored the sleeping girl next to me and slithered out of the bed.

I searched my clothes out on the hardwood floor and dressed quickly. 

Read more… 204 more words

#TheWatchDog Coming Nov 13! #SampleSunday

Chapter 4 from Breaking The Moon for #SampleSunday

Kindle: $4.99
Paperback: $19.99

“Breaking The Moon” is the sequel to “Dream Catchers” which introduces Haley Foster, a no frills college girl as the narrator.  Haley meets and falls in love with alternative crooner Jordan Walsh.  “Breaking The Moon” explores the couple’s relationship further as they face some life obstacles.  I’ve also incorporated entries from Jordan’s journal before each chapter, which allows the reader to get into his head a bit.  Enjoy Chapter 4!

JORDAN

December 24th

 Why do people expect me to propose to Haley as soon as she graduates college?  Aunt Trish and Tasha both seem to bring up the topic to me every chance they get.  The only time Christian talks to me civilly is to brag about his pending nuptials as if he freed the slaves or ended war.

The society that Haley and I were raised in thinks you should be settled down and married before the age of 25—I was going to be 24 this upcoming year.  Maybe to someone like Christian, marriage was a major accomplishment; to me, it was a setup for failure.

Call me a cynic, but marriage was a legally binding piece of paper that suffocated a relationship.  If my parents aren’t proof of that, I don’t know who is.

I tried to remember when there was a resemblance of love between Mom and Dad.  Mom was devoted—warm and accommodating while he was cold and bossy.  He left the parenting to her.

She wasn’t allowed to have a social life outside of him, and she wasn’t allowed to control any of the money.  But King Chuck came and went as he pleased—sometimes disappearing for days, and somehow, Mom would get screamed at when he came home.

The only real evidence of love I heard about was on their wedding day.  Mom said he cried—I couldn’t imagine that.  I wondered if those were happy tears.  Mom also said he couldn’t wait to share the rest of his life with her.  Yet now they live two-hundred and twenty miles away from each other and never speak.  I will not let marriage turn me into a resentful bastard who ignores his wife and kid.

-J.W.

HALEY

Chapter 4

 

…And this is my letter… Haley, I’ll miss you when you’re gone…

The car radio played the song, and I smiled with my eyes closed.  The station changed and I opened my eyes to scowl at Jordan.

“Hey!”

“You know I hate listening to Tortured on the radio,” he laughed.

He was so strange when it came to hearing himself on the radio or seeing himself on TV.  He didn’t want to be seen as a luminary.  He wanted to be a normal guy who plays guitar and writes songs.  What he doesn’t get is there is a light that shines off of him and draws the world to him.  Loving him is involuntary for me; like a magnetic force I don’t even want to block.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Other than car sick, fine,” I turned slightly to try and figure out how far away from New York we were now.

“We’re almost there,” he said, and just then the car stalled.  “Shit,” he groaned and started it up again.

“Uh, what’s up with that?”

“It’s fine—we’ll get there.”

“I hate this car,” I grumbled.

“Shh, she’ll hear you.”

“Loser,” I rolled my eyes.

“You’ve been hanging out with Seb too much,” Jordan laughed.

Sebastian called everyone a loser.  If you liked a song he hated, you were a loser.  If you got yourself coffee and not him, you were a loser.  And if you knew too many questions on Jeopardy about Shakespeare, you were really a loser.

I know Jordan and his friends didn’t seem like intellectuals on the surface.  I’m sure to the judgmental people of my hometown—Tortured was just a rebellious band of punks.  I’m sure they’d be surprised we have Jeopardy marathons at Darren’s, and that he was a college graduate.  Though Jordan, Sebastian and Danny dropped out of college, they were intelligent and motivated.  Sebastian, in particularly, craved knowledge and was always testing the rest of us.

About twenty minutes later, we were in the parking garage and gathering our things to bring into the hotel.  We always stayed at the same hotel near Times Square—not the one with the scary concierge, but the second one we stayed in that first summer.  The one we shared our second kiss in, which counted more than our first for us.  The first kiss was just awkward.

We settled into our hotel room and I excused myself to the bathroom.  I felt a few cramps in my lower stomach and groaned.  I thought about the date.  It was the 30th and I figured I was having a bad bout of PMS.  Being that I had to spend the next couple of days dealing with the Ashtons, this wasn’t a good thing.

“Haley,” Jordan called.

“What?” I asked.

“I want to show you something.”

“Jordan, I am not watching any type of History Channel war stuff,” I warned.

He loved watching war movies and documentaries, and would always call me into the room to see gory scenes.  I hated the idea of war, though I understood why we did it.  I hated fighting in general, which is why I always tried to keep the peace.

I opened the bathroom door and I laughed loudly.  Sitting on the bed was Jordan…with his guitar…in just his boxers and my hot pink bra.  He was emulating the photo I took of myself for him.

“Hold that pose,” I said, still laughing as I ran to get my camera.

I snapped the shot and Jordan began strumming a song on the guitar.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he announced, standing up.

He handed me my bra and I shook my head at him.

“I’m going to lay down for a bit,” I yawned.

“Don’t get too comfortable.  We’re meeting the band in a couple of hours for dinner.”

That night, we went to Carney’s, the Irish pub we always hung out at in New York.  Jordan and his friends were creatures of habit.  Aside from Jeopardy marathons, his visits with the band consisted of the same things: rehearsals, some kind of athletic activity with Danny, most nights spent at Carney’s and ordering Thai takeout for lunch after rehearsal.

That night, Sebastian and Darren were both flirting with two blondes at the bar while I sipped a Shirley Temple and watched Jordan and Danny play pool.

I was never a big drinker, and Shirley Temples were so delicious that most of the time I opt for them rather than some fruity cocktail.  The guys teased me all the time about it.

“So, where’s Cami tonight?” I asked as Danny took a shot at the nine ball.

He shrugged, “Don’t know, don’t care.”

Jordan laughed, “You guys are fighting again?”

“She’s pissing me off.  I think I’m done, bro.”

I must have frowned because Danny and Jordan both stared at me.

“Come on, Haley, she’s a bitch,” Danny sighed.

“But you love her.”

“Not enough to deal with her attitude anymore.”

“What about the band?” Jordan asked.

“This won’t affect us.  Cami will get over it—she’ll be bitter, but when isn’t she?” Danny laughed.

For some reason, I was infuriated.  I know Cami wasn’t the warmest person on the planet, but she was my friend—kind of.  She got me my first gig as a photographer.  And my second.  And my third.

Sure, she and Danny fought, but he wasn’t exactly an angel.  His temper flared up fairly often; in public no less.  I wouldn’t be able to put up with Jordan cursing at me in front of people—let alone at all.

I was annoyed with Jordan, also, for only caring about the band and not Cami.  She is his ex-girlfriend.  I know he didn’t have feelings for her in that way, but he must feel something toward her as a friend; as someone who has helped better his career.

“Unbelievable,” I threw my hands up.

“What’s up with you?”

“Do either of you care about Cami’s feelings?”

“Haley, I care.  She’s just unbearable at times.”

“And so are you!” I yelled.

“Excuse me?” Danny asked, placing the pool stick down on the table.

“D, just calm down,” Jordan put his hand on his friend’s chest.

“Tell your girl to leave me alone, Jordan.”

“Jordan doesn’t tell me what to do.”

“Haley, shut up already,” Jordan growled at me.

Danny smirked and I just hurried toward the front of the bar.

“Haley, what’s wrong?” I heard Sebastian ask, but I just walked outside.

The cold air hit me hard.  I was wearing a short-sleeved sweater dress, and my arms instantly goose-pimpled.  I looked up at the December sky and there was no moon.  That was disappointing.

I hated new moons; it was like the moon was my nightlight to guide me along, and when it was gone—I was lost.

I heard Jordan walk up behind me.  I kept my back to him; pretending to see something of interest in the sky.

“Hale,” Jordan sighed.  “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

I didn’t look at him.  I continued to stare at the blank sky, hoping for some change, though I know the moon was not going to magically appear.

“It’s just—you know how Danny gets when he has a few beers in him.  I didn’t want you to get him going even more.”

I felt his arms wrap around me and still I didn’t react.

“Will we end up like them?” I whispered.

“Like who?”

“Cami and Danny?  Tasha and Christian?”

“What do you mean?”

“Fighting over nonsense.  Trying to make something work that just doesn’t.”

“We fight over nonsense now,” he laughed into my ear, before kissing it.

I wrapped my arms over his.

“We don’t have to try to make something work,” he whispered.  “We just work.”

I squeezed his hands underneath mine.

“I’m scared,” I admitted.

“Of what?”

“That we’ll lose each other.”

I didn’t even know I had such fears until that moment.  Maybe it was the realization that Jordan was my only boyfriend—and nowadays first loves didn’t usually last.

Maybe it was the fact that all of my friends were in and out of troubled relationships.  Before Christian, Tasha dated Ricky—that was an emotional roller coaster.  Laney’s relationships only lasted a month at a time.  And then there was Meghan.  She was with Mike for two years and they decided to take a break since they were so young when they got together.  They wanted to experience other things.  I couldn’t imagine wanting to experience someone other than Jordan, but he might feel differently one day.

Ultimately, I’m sure my fear had something to do with college graduation this spring—and nothing to actually do with my relationship.  There would be so many changes.  I would start my career and Jordan would basically be touring nonstop.  We would have to decide on our future, and to be honest, we never really discussed it.  The possibility that our lives might head in two opposite directions terrified me.

Even more so than the moon, Jordan was my nightlight.  When everything else in the world went to hell, he was always there to help me forget and move on.

Jordan was quiet far too long.  I looked back at him.

“We won’t lose each other,” he said.  “Tasha and Christian will be fine.  They’re already onto planning the honeymoon.”

I wasn’t sure if I was happy about Tasha and Christian.  I didn’t want my best friend to get her heart broken, but I just couldn’t imagine Christian making her happy.

“And Danny and Cami…” Jordan continued.  “We all knew there was a huge chance they probably wouldn’t last.  He’s just angry; it’s best not to argue with him.  He’ll wake up tomorrow ready to apologize to Cami.  Don’t worry,” he said.

“I’m sorry I got so bent out of shape back there,” I said, realizing I had overreacted to Danny simply ranting to his best friend about his relationship.

Jordan shrugged, “This is why guys don’t talk to girls when they complain about their girlfriends.”

“Oh, does that mean you talk to him about me like that?” I wondered.

He shook his head and laughed.

“Miss Sensitive today,” he rolled his eyes.  “Not once have I ever said I was going to break up with you after a fight.”

I smiled, “Can we go inside now?  I’m cold.”

“Who told you to come out here without a jacket?” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me back inside the pub.

“Were you going to pass out again, Haley?” Darren asked, laughing.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” I squinted my eyes at him.

Darren loved to tease me about my claustrophobia and social awkwardness—though even he can’t really pick on me about that anymore.  I have overcome many fears and phobias in the past eighteen months.

Sebastian had his arm around the blonde he had been flirting with.

“Jordy, you better be treating my girl right,” he winked at me.

I laughed.  Seb loved to mess with Jordan by flirting with me—that was his nature anyhow.  Danny walked toward us from the back room.

“I’m gonna split,” he said.

His blue eyes looked weary.  Gone was the cocky, self-righteous guy who didn’t care about his girlfriend.  Danny wasn’t an easy nut to crack.  He was one of the sweetest guys I knew, yet his temper could get him into trouble easier than his smile could win over any girl—which was pretty damn easy to begin with.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” I said.

Danny pulled me into a hug.

“It’s forgotten.  Wish me luck with Cami,” he sighed.

“Good luck,” I smiled at him.

Danny bumped his fist against Jordan’s before leaving.

Late that night, I woke up alone.  I slid out of bed and looked out of the hotel window, hoping the moon somehow appeared while I was asleep.  Although I knew the science of the moon phases, that never took the magic out of it for me—like wishing on stars, I prayed to the moon.

I walked into the bathroom, desperately having to urinate.  I had a few drops of blood on my underwear.  Relief washed over me.  Though I chalked my cramps up to my period coming, the nausea along with it did set the pregnancy alarm off since my period is late and I am on birth control.

I dreamed of the day Jordan and I were married—both successful in our careers—and with a child on the way; the child Jordan missed out on, the one I could give him.  I took comfort in that dream, but with a semester to go of college and with Jordan at the start of his career—not to mention we were unmarried—this was not the right time.  My parents would lose it, and though, I don’t think they’d react the way Jordan’s father did when Bippy turned up pregnant—they would have their own opinions on how we proceeded.

After finishing up in the bathroom, I walked out and Jordan was flipping through channels on the bed, wearing just sweatpants.

“Did you go out to smoke?” I asked, with a hand on my hip.

“Sorry,” he said.

I took out body splash from my purse and began spraying him with it.

“Haley!” he yelled.  “I’m going to smell like girl!”

I laughed, “It’s better than smelling like smoke.”

“I’m dousing you in men’s cologne while you sleep,” he said, pulling me on top of him.

“Jerk,” I said, bouncing hard on his stomach.

“Ow,” he winced, while laughing.  “Come on, let’s get some sleep…big party tomorrow,” he rolled his eyes before turning the TV off.

I flopped down next to him.

“It’s just one night,” I reminded him.

I am fearing Chuck’s party just as much as Jordan is, but I am trying to be uplifting.  I despise these ritzy parties with stuffy schmucks who bring out my social anxiety more than anyone in the world.

Around five-thirty the next night, I walked out of the bathroom in a strapless red dress as Jordan was fixing his tie in the mirror.  There haven’t been many times that I’ve seen him in a three-piece suit.  I know he hated wearing them.  It was a little much for New Year’s Eve, but Chuck always had formal parties.  Jordan could have played the part of the rebellious son tonight—he did that well, but he wanted to coast through the party—we both did.

Jordan hates when his father starts with him in front of me or with his brother around.  He tries to tolerate Chuck once in a while, for Andrew’s sake.

“Wow, is that my boyfriend?”

To be perfectly honest, I like him dressed down better anyhow.  Jordan looks good in anything, but in a suit—you can tell he isn’t comfortable.  I’m sure I come off that way in the heels I decided to wear.

He looked me over with a grin; which usually meant he wished we’d just stay in and fool around.  I wouldn’t have objected.  He scanned down my legs to my feet.

“Heels?” he asked.

“You don’t like them?” I wondered, turning my feet to the side.

“I do, but can you walk in those?”

“Tasha gave them to me—she said flats aren’t sexy enough for this dress.”

He laughed, “You’d make anything look sexy.”

“Does that mean I did well?”

He just walked toward me and pecked my lips.  He hates that I can be so insecure.

“You look amazing.”

“But not slutty?  This is a formal—“

“You’re perfect.  Don’t care what they think.”

By “they”, he meant the rich friends of his father.

“I care what you think.  Do I look like a respectable young lady?” I asked, pouting innocently.

He scratched the back of his head.

“Respectable—sure, but hot as hell.”

I just laughed at him.

“Let’s go, I’m starving,” I pulled his hand and dragged him toward the door.

Read the rest of the story…
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Stranded with the Stranger from Dream Catchers for #SampleSunday (sandy-lo.com)

Stranded with the Stranger from Dream Catchers for #SampleSunday

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Paperback: $19.00

This is Chapter 3 of Dream Catchers, the first book in the series.  Haley and Jordan met at the bus station and instantly clashed.  They wind up stranded together at a truck-stop and that’s when the story begins to unfold.

 

            The sun was bright as a florescent lemon as it blazed down, almost blinding me.  I tapped my foot trying to think of what to do.  Jordan sat down on the curb, and strummed his guitar absently.  He didn’t seem to be worried, but I was terrified.  I’m just a girl, who’s never really been on her own.  College was supposed to be a form of “cutting the cord” from my parents, but they paid for everything and called to check in neurotically.  I was basically chauffeured and sheltered my entire life.

My mother warned me about boys like Jordan.  They were off limits, often described as delinquents.  She would freak out if she knew I was stuck in the middle of nowhere with some deviant.

“…And girl, you’ll be a woman soon…” A sultry-raspy voice sang.

I turned slightly, and Jordan looked up at me as he continued to strum.  I just stared.  If Jordan was a delinquent, no wonder Mom worried.  His fingers touched the guitar so gingerly; his mouth was a work of art as he sang.  Somewhere deep down I wanted this; to be free; to be lost; to not know.  I was stranded with a complete stranger.  They make horror movies about this stuff, but then again, they also make porno films about it.  I smirked at the thought, and I guess I was still staring.

“See something you like?” Jordan asked, a smile playing at his lips.

I cocked my head to the side and folded my arms.

“You sound pretty good.”

“A compliment?” he asked, and I remembered my cold shoulder that was rapidly heating up.

“Don’t get used to it,” I stiffened.

Jordan laughed quietly and put his guitar back in its case.

“So, what do we do?”

“Well, considering you’re broke…I guess you’re stuck,” Jordan said as he stood up.

He stretched his arms over his head, his tank top lifting as he did so.  I noticed another tattoo just above his jeans.  It was some kind of Celtic symbol.  Jordan packed up his guitar and started to walk away with his things.  My eyes widened at the realization that he would leave me deserted.

“You’re just going to leave me here?!”

My voice was high-pitched and whiny, which I hated myself for sounding.  Jordan turned slightly.

“Relax, sweetie.  I’ll help you as much as I can, but what are you going to do for me?”

He raised an eyebrow and my mouth just gaped open.  How do I answer that?

“I’ll repay you with interest,” I decided.

Jordan rolled his eyes, “Don’t worry about it.  Come on.”

He waved me on and I followed, letting out a breath of air.  Call it naiveté, but I was worried he wanted some other form of repayment, or maybe I hoped.  What did my boring life subject me to?  Here I am hoping for someone to want my body in exchange for a favor.

Then again, it isn’t just someone…it’s him.

“Maybe I should just call my parents…” I stuttered, clumsily walking over the gravelly road behind him.

Jordan turned toward me and pushed his hair back; my knees buckled just a bit.

“There’s a payphone,” he pointed.

I must have made a face because he rolled his eyes.

“Sorry princess, I don’t believe in cell phones.  You’re going to have to put that germ infested phone against your pretty little ear.”

I placed my hand on my hip, and rolled my eyes before starting toward the public telephone.

“Who doesn’t have a cell phone nowadays?” I mumbled as I heard Jordan following me.

Stepping up to the telephone, I took a deep breath.  Jordan leaned against the metal casing around the phone and held a quarter out to me.  As I picked up the receiver, I imagined what my parents would say.

“Don’t talk to strangers!” Mom would squeak.

“We’ll send a car for you.  Don’t go anywhere with that boy,” Dad would insist.

Then the lectures would start about how careless I was to lose my wallet and my phone and get on the wrong bus!

“They’ll think I’m an idiot,” I sighed aloud.

“What?”

I looked over at Jordan.

“I mean, don’t you?”

“Idiot wouldn’t be the word I’d use.”

Jordan smirked; an expression of his I was becoming familiar with.  I ignored his comment.

“They’re already over-protective,” I explained.

“Don’t tell them,” he shrugged.

“And where should I say I am?  I’m supposed to be home in two hours,” I laughed.

“Change of plans?” he flashed a smile and winked.

Why is it men look so damn good when they wink?  It’s such an old-fashioned, cheesy gesture, yet it’s still so sexy when the right person does it.

I put the quarter into the slot and dialed a phone number I was lucky I remembered.  Nowadays, I barely knew anyone’s number since everything was programmed into my cell phone, which I’m probably never getting back.  It wasn’t like I had any important information programmed into my phone, though.

“Tasha Torres, dancer extraordinaire at your service,” she piped through the receiver.

“Nice introduction.”

“Haley?  What number are you calling from?”

“A payphone.  Long story, but I’m stranded in…”

I pulled my mouth away from the receiver and scrunched my nose at Jordan.

“Where are we again?”

“Pinkston.”

I relayed the city to Tasha.

“Where the hell is that?”

“Uh, Rhode Island, I think.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.  Well, no¾I’m broke.  My wallet and phone are gone.  I don’t want to call my parents.  I rather just get home on my own, and tell them my bus is delayed or something.”

“You really don’t want to risk them sending Christian, do you?” Tasha laughed.

“You know they will!” I laughed as well.

“I can wire you money.”

“Really?” I asked, trying not to sound too desperate.

“Of course.  I’ve got your back, don’t worry.  I just hate that you’re all alone in Rhode Island,” Tasha said with disgust.

“Well, I’m not exactly alone,” I glanced up at Jordan for a nanosecond, and then back down before I could even meet his eyes.  I’m sure he was smirking at me, though.

“I met this guy on the bus¾”

“Is he hot?” Tasha asked with excitement.

“Uh, maybe,” I answered, blushing furiously.

“Is he standing right next to you?”

“Yes,” I blushed even more.

I felt like Tasha could see my red cheeks through the phone.  Jordan could see them for sure.

“Look, if your friend wants to talk to me, fine,” Jordan said before snatching the receiver out of my hand before I could object.

“Hello?”

Jordan began to talk to Tasha and I watched him, curiously.  He answered questions about himself and about ten minutes later, he was laughing before he handed the phone back to me.

“H-hello?”

“Hay, he sounds totally cute!” Tasha gushed, “His voice is sexy.  Does he look the way he sounds?”

“Um, yeah.”

“I definitely approve of this little road trip.  He passed my personality test.  Go make out with him!”

“Tasha…” I laughed.

When I hung up the phone, Jordan was smirking at me still.

“What were you saying about me?”

“Nothing,” I shrugged and began walking to the bench at the rest stop.

Jordan followed behind.

“So, what now?” he asked sitting down next to me.

Jordan told me he was headed to New York City for a battle of the bands competition tomorrow night.  I wasn’t surprised he was in a band.  The guitar and the crooning ability tipped me off a bit, not to mention the tattoos and bad ass attitude.  His face lit up when he talked about his music.  Despite his laid back nature, he was all business when it came to his band.  He reminded me of Tasha when she talked about dancing.  I want what they have badly.  To do something that makes me feel so alive, so free; something where I can be me without any consequences.

“Haley?”

I snapped out of my own world and smiled at him.

“What?” he asked.

“I’m just surprised.”

“About my band?”

“About you,” I gulped, “I presumed you were someone who¾”

“Was a slacker?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Join the club,” Jordan said taking a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it up.

“That’s a disgusting habit.”

I was especially repulsed since Tasha wanted me to make out with him.

“Deal with it, Mom,” he blew out a puff of smoke close to my face and I coughed.

 

***

About an hour later, Jordan and I were in a cab to the nearest Greyhound station.  Tasha had wired the money through Western Union down the block from the rest stop.  To my astonishment, she wired way more money than I needed to get home.  It was practically enough to buy a new car.  I didn’t quite understand why she sent that much until we were in the cab.  Jordan and I were quiet on the ride to the bus station; probably since we were practically strangers, and weren’t sure how much we wanted to know one another.

Tasha had left a note with the money and I took the silence as an opportunity to read it.

 

Dearest Haley,

I’m sure you’d only need $100 to get home, but in case you change your mind, here’s some of my savings.  I don’t need you to pay me back.  I have more than enough money.  What I really want you to do with it is take that summer adventure you want to happen but always say it won’t.  Make it happen, Haley!  Your parents will get over it.  Keep in touch and be careful.

Love,

Tash

 

P.S. Take pictures!

 

Tasha wants me to run away for the summer with her money!  Her savings account probably had over a million dollars by now.  Her parents add to it every month and Tasha is not someone who lives above her means.  In fact, she lives quite modestly for someone of her wealth.  Her father is a well-known corporate mogul and her mother was the owner of a high-end boutique in Los Angeles.  They lived bi-coastal, but Tasha insisted on remaining on the East Coast all year long.

I thought about what Tasha wanted me to do once more.  I glanced over at Jordan and imagined myself bumming around New York City with him and his band.  It certainly would be unpredictable of me.  Who’s to say Jordan wants me around, though?  We could always go our separate ways once we’re in New York.  I could shop and see some Broadway shows.  I even have a friend or two on the Upper East Side.  Then again, I wouldn’t call Leslie and Bippy friends.  They reminded me of Blaire Waldorf in Gossip Girl only meaner and richer.

Tagging along with the upper class snobs is surely not how Tasha would want me to spend my summer or her money.  I once again looked at Jordan and, this time, he looked over at me.

“Did your friend give you enough money to get home?”

“Oh yeah,” I nodded.

“Must be nice having rich friends,” Jordan smirked.

“Tasha isn’t just another rich girl.  She’s so unlike anyone I know,” I explained.  “She doesn’t think I should go home this summer.”

“What’s waiting for you back home?”

“My parents and an internship at my father’s law firm.”

“You’re going to be a lawyer?” Jordan practically laughed.

“I’m being polished to become one, yes.”

“Following in Daddy’s footsteps?  How noble,” Jordan said picking at the ripped leather of the seat in front of him.  “What did the note say?”

“Tasha wants me to go to New York and have fun this summer.”

“Are you going to do that?” Jordan asked me.

I glanced down at the note, and back up at him before shaking my head.

“No, my parents would flip out.”

“You wouldn’t want to upset them, right?” he antagonized me.

I just smiled, “You think you know me so well…”

“Prove me wrong then.  Come to New York with me, and see what the world is really like.”

I just stared at Jordan and didn’t say anything.

“I dare you, Haley.”

“You dare me?” I laughed.  “Do you triple dog dare me?”

I’ll admit I like being challenged.  It gave me a sense of adventure.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Fine, I’m going to New York.”

“We’ll see,” Jordan said as the cab pulled up to the Greyhound station.  “There’s still time to back out.”

Jordan stepped out of the car and I followed quickly as he retrieved his things from the trunk.  Now I was determined to prove this guy wrong about me.  I don’t know why I cared at all, but Jordan’s stereotype of me gave me enough ambition to defy my parents for the first time in my life.  With Tasha’s support behind me, I was channeling her inner free-spirit and decided my time was now.

I couldn’t help but think of The Goonies at a time like this.  It was the one popular movie I watched as a kid; that is until my mother told me that kind of television would rot my brain.  I was on a strict TV diet of PBS.  People wonder why the sight of Big Bird still drives me insane to this day.

“You really think I won’t get on that bus with you?”

Jordan seemed amused as he shut the trunk and paid the driver.

“I don’t think you have the guts,” he said before walking toward the building.

“Goonies never say die,” I gritted under my breath as I quickly followed him.

***

We walked into the Greyhound station and my face twisted.  This station was even grimier than the one in Boston.  We both walked up to the window and purchased our tickets.

“Um, there’s a problem with your ticket,” Jordan said, folding it back a little.  “It says New York.”

“Oh, there’s no problem,” I smirked.

“Come on, this has gone far enough,” he laughed.  “What are you going to do in New York?”

I shrugged, “It’s the city that doesn’t sleep.  I’m sure I can find something to do.”

“You’re going to hang around a busy city alone all summer?”

“Wait a minute,” I had to laugh at him.  “Suddenly, you don’t think it’s a good idea?”

“I just don’t think it’s a smart idea.”

“Well, I have my ticket, so looks like New York City, here I come,” I grinned.

Jordan sighed, “I did not ask for extra baggage on this trip.  I just want to play my music and be done,” he said as we walked to the line for our bus.

I had to admit I was offended by Jordan’s words.  I was extra baggage?

“Listen, I am not your baggage.  I don’t care what you do once we get to New York.  Go off with your band and I’ll go my way.”

“Here’s the deal, Haley,” Jordan said.  “I know if you go off on your own, you’ll wind up staying in a ritzy hotel and shop your summer away.  Do you really think that’s the adventure Tasha wants you to have?  You can do that in Fuckersfield, or wherever it is you’re from,” he waved his hand in the air.

I rolled my eyes at him and folded my arms.

“Okay, now you’re doing it because you’re annoyed, right?” he asked.

I quickly dropped my arms and huffed as he laughed.

“So, what do you want me to do?” I asked.  “Stay in a dump motel and play the bongos in the subway?”

“Now, that’s an adventure,” he smiled.

“Ugh, you’re impossible,” I threw my hands in the air.

“Stick with me and I promise we’ll have an adventure every day.”

“I’m not going to sleep with you if that’s what you mean,” I said, looking at him with disgust.

“You wish,” Jordan pushed his hair back as he laughed. “Why don’t we treat this as a learning experiment?  You see how I live and I see how you live.”

“After you just told me I was extra baggage?  I don’t think so…”

“You have a better plan?  Are you going to hit up some A-List clubs with Bippy Reynolds?” he rolled his eyes.

I looked at him funny.

“How do you know Bippy Reynolds?”

“I’ve seen her in some tabloid,” he shrugged.  “I’m right, aren’t I?  You know her?”

“Yeah, we’re acquaintances.”

Jordan laughed, “You are so predictable.”

“Shut the hell up already.  I’m sick of you talking.”

I was beyond frustrated.

“Why is it the truth always hurts?” he asked.  “You’re afraid you’re just like all the rest of the uptight snobs, aren’t you?”

I pretended to ignore him as he talked.  He just kept moving closer to me until I could feel his breath on my cheek.

“Prove me wrong, Haley.  Prove your parents wrong.  I’ll be in New York for two weeks.”

I turned my head and looked him dead in the eyes.

“What do you get out of it?”

“The satisfaction of liberating a sheltered, rich girl is my reward,” he smiled.

“I can’t believe how much I hate you,” I shook my head at him.

The line began to move and we handed our tickets in.  We didn’t speak to one another as we boarded the bus.  We didn’t even speak once we were seated.  My iPod had died on the last bus trip, and I was too tense to sleep.  I wasn’t very good in enclosed spaces, either.  Arguing with Jordan offered a huge distraction, but now he was quiet.

I grabbed my laptop out of my knapsack.  I opened it and turned it on.  I glanced over at Jordan, and his eyes were closing.  My journal was open within minutes and I looked at the two lines I wrote this morning.

 

Another summer back in solitude, back where I’m invisible.  I am just another girl who does what is expected of her.

 

I sighed before adding to the entry, finally pleased with something in my day.  I wrote until the sky turned dark and my eyes began to hurt.  Jordan woke up just as I was shutting my laptop.  He looked at me from where he was slouched down.  His posture at that moment was much different than mine.  I was sitting with my back straight and tall against the seat, my hands folded in my lap.

“Relax, you’ll be fine,” he smirked.

“I know,” I nodded, trying to sound convincing.

The truth was: I was scared out of my mind.  I was afraid I would get lost in New York.  I was afraid of being robbed of all the cash Tasha sent me.  I was afraid what my parents will say or do once they find out I’ve gone AWOL.

Most of all, I was afraid I would end up killing Jordan by the end of the day.  I was still confused why I was allowing him to get to me, and yet I keep coming back for more.

 

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