Jen Frederick's Blog, page 11
March 26, 2015
Audible Deal
Audible is currently having a 48-hour BOGO credit sale. Audible members with 1 available credit can purchase 2 books for 1 credit until March 28th!
So, if you don’t have UNDECLARED on audible yet and have been looking to get it, head over to Audible and pick it up, along with another book you’ve been dying to get.
All available sales are listed here.
The post Audible Deal appeared first on Jen Frederick.
March 24, 2015
An annoncement!
Tap. Tap.
So I have an announcement to make. When I started writing in 2012, it was almost by accident. I hadn’t planned on being a writer because I loved being a reader. That was my entire book identity.
Then in the fall of 2012, I decided (kind of on a dare) to take the http://nanowrimo.org challenge. For those not familiar, Nano is where you write 50,000 words in the month of November.
At the end of November, I had 50K words of what would eventually become Undeclared. But it wasn’t finished. It was just a jumble of words and sentences. I set it aside.
I told a writer friend about it. Jessica Clare. She told me I had to finish it and so I did. When I was done, I had a book and I thought, gosh, I should self publish this and see what that process is like. So I did that. And then I wrote another book and then another.
And some really amazing things happened. I made friends with other authors like the amazing Katy Evans. Last Hit was optioned for a movie by Tony Krantz of Flame Ventures (http://variety.com/exec/tony-krantz/), the Hitman series was sold to Berkley, a division of Penguin Publishing, Montlake Romance bought the rights to Losing Control/Taking Control.
And I wrote more books.
But at the same time I ran (and have run) a very big romance publishing blog called Dear Author. I started the blog in 2006 with my friend Jayne. I’ve kept the two separate for the entire time because I wanted to build my reputation as an author without using the platform of my romance blog. And I wanted the blog to stay as reader centric as possible. Yes, we do give critical opinions on the site as I’ve always felt that is supremely important for the vitality of the community.
And if you’ve followed me here or in the Charlotte group, you know that I’m totally cool with critical opinions of my books as well.
I’m coming out to all of you and I hope that you’ll continue to treat me the same–as a fellow reader who loves romance books (so much that I’ve maintained a blog about it for over nine years) and as an author who writes books that you enjoy, and even love.
I’m still the same Jen. (That’s my real name btw). I’m still going to be writing books. I’m still going to be recommending books I love. I still want you around, even if you don’t love my books or love the same books I love.
I want to be around people who are passionate about reading which is what all of you are. I’m so grateful for anyone who has read the books, interacted with me here or elsewhere. It’s been really amazing.
The post An annoncement! appeared first on Jen Frederick.
February 2, 2015
Last Hit: Reloaded Blogger Thanks
I had a lot of fun visiting the blog tour stops today because I love reading other reader’s opinions, no matter what they were. I feel like I can get a sense of what worked and what didn’t for some and that always gives me food for thought. Plus, the effort that you bloggers put into these reviews and posts is really mindblowing. I appreciate and applaud you all.
Tarah from Dirty Laundry Review said:
If you are fans Nick and Daisy from Last Hit, this is a novella to give you a little more.
Twin Sisters Rockin Reviews said:
The Hit Man Series is a must read!
Naughty Moms Story Time said:
This was such a great novella to give us an update on their life.
Confessions of a YA and NA Book Addict said:
I loved seeing Nick handle Daisy’s need for freedom and balance his need for constant surveillance.
Mean Girls Luv Books said:
You definitely won’t be disappointed with Nick’s devotion to his life with Daisy and her love and faith him him.
Sassy Girl Books said:
In book one we fell in love with, but in this book we see how crazy head over heels they are for one another.
Hetty from Best Sellers and Best Stellars said:
The ‘what happens after their happily ever after’ is often left untold so I was beyond pleased to get more from this beautifully different couple.
Wendy from Star Angels Reviews said:
I thoroughly enjoyed this…
Debra from The Book Enthusiast said:
These ladies really know how to pull you into a story and keep you there until the very end.
The Next Chapter Book Blog said:
It is a good novella that accompanies this series.
Claire from Kindle Friends Forever said:
I loved the way both authors have come together to write a beautiful story which had me turning page after page to get to the end as quickly as possible.
Michelle from Four Chicks Flipping Pages said:
Together, these two really exemplifies what it means to really love.
Nichole from Sizzling Pages said:
Mystery, suspense and amazing love scenes left me feeling some hope and happiness at a time I really needed it.
said:
I’ve been a fan of the Hit Man series since it’s first book and this novella has only guaranteed that I will read the next.
Shanoff Reads said:
Great addition to the Hitman series and I look forward to more.
Cory from Reading in Pajamas said:
I highly recommend the series for readers looking for hot romance with dark and dangerous heroes.
Life, Books, and More said:
If I could give this book more then 5 stars I would.
Escape into a Book said:
It’s also perfect for you readers out there who are pressed for time but looking for a great book to read.
Drama Queens Book Blog said:
It was great to read about two of my favorite characters
Amanda from Byrne After Reading was disappointed:
A good portion of the sex in Last Hit: Reloaded was sex for sex’s sake.
Country Gals Sexy Reads said:
The chapters where we are inside Nick’s head were full of heat and passion I could really feel his love for Daisy.
Tina from Typical Distractions Book Blog said:
Last Hit: Reloaded is full of sweet moments, sexy moments, awkward moments, and a bit of suspense.
I Love Story Time said:
Reloaded was a quick steamy read that fans of Nick and Daisy will love.
Abigail Books Addiction said:
Very addicted read and very hot yet steamy love between them. *Five Star*
A Reader Who Reads said:
It’s an action-packed, romance-filled, heck of a good time!
Meagan from Love Between the Sheets said:
It’s short but packs enough emotion and solid storyline that you don’t even notice it isn’t a full-length novel.
Kara from Two Book Pushers said:
It was so great to see these characters again. They still have the same amazing chemistry and hilarious banter.
Obsessive Reading Disorder said:
If you enjoyed this couple in the first book, you will love seeing how their love has grown since they have been together.
Cruising Susan Author Promos said:
Last Hit: Reloaded is a very thrilling, passionate, yet provides touching moments.
Michel’s from Smut Book Junkie said:
This is a must read series! Nick and Daisy will capture your heart.
Nerdy Chic said:
Disaster party, dirty talking, hitman issues, hot sex, a mystery killer and a potential new character (?) made this another installment in the series that I absolutely loved.
Book Beauty said:
that Jessica Clare and Jen Frederick have an incredible style of writing, which makes your heart pound while turning the pages…
Books, Chocolate and Lipgloss said:
Jen and Jessica take you on another hot,dirty and naughty adventure with Nick and Daisy.
Bedroom Bookworms said:
And Daisy, we can’t forget Daisy, that girl is crazy. In the best kind of way. She’s just the sweetest person you’ve ever met…
Michelle from All Romance Reviews said:
Watching Daisy grow was also a delight.
Thanks for the following blogs for shining a spotlight on Last Hit: Reloaded.
A Crazy Vermonter’s Book Reviews
J&J’s Southern Spice Book Reviews and Blog
Fictional Rendezvous Book Blog
Ramblings from Beneath the Sheets
Give Me Books
Book Boyfriend Blog
My Secret Romance Book Reviews
The post Last Hit: Reloaded Blogger Thanks appeared first on Jen Frederick.
January 19, 2015
Last Hit: Reloaded
I have some fun teasers to share with you for Last Hit: Reloaded.
My art history class is housed in a decrepit old building that smells like stale cigarette smoke and mildewed paper. It is the smell of learning and discernment—light years away from the stink of gunpowder, blood, and fear. We are studying Picasso and his ambivalence toward women and his hate toward rigid societal structure. He never found his Daisy, I have concluded, and spent too much time seeking the answers to his happiness in the bottom of a brown bottle. But who can deny the genius? Perhaps there are those who are not meant to be happy so that the expression of their torment can inspire generations that follow.
I sit in the back, near the door. Not because I am avoiding attention, although that is part of it, but primarily because I cannot rid myself of instinct. Instinct will always have me sit near an exit, facing the door, or away from those that I perceive as threats.
There are no threats in art history, only students and a rather pudgy professor who dresses in turtlenecks and tweed. Like the stale smells, I find the clichéd attire of the professor comforting. Everything is as it should be.
Around me there are a sea of open seats. The students’ hindbrains tell them I am a dangerous creature and that I should be avoided. Only a few have gone against instinct and spoken to me—curiosity winning out over fear. But my blank expression and terse responses have driven them away as I intended. Only now the isolation reminds me of Daisy’s fears. In many ways, I am failing her.
After class I attempt to correct this. There are two young ladies who smiled at me when the semester began. They are fresh things, rosy cheeked and with multihued hair. Art girls enjoy hair colors not found in nature. That is weird. I shall tell this to Daisy tonight.”
As I approach I can hear them discussing a weekend party at a house known by Greek letters, and a plan quickly formulates. Daisy wants friends and wants to fit in. One of them, the shorter one who wears clunky boots and torn leg coverings, says she plans to hit it like the right hand of an angry god.
I wonder what that means and resolve to ask Daisy. Although she may not know. Perhaps Daniel? Daniel is a former assassin who has retired at the age of twenty-seven to his family ranch in Texas. He is very knowledgeable about idiosyncratic behavior of American girls.
“He does remind me of Chris Hemsworth,” the taller girl replies. She wears a long, puffy jacket that covers her from head to foot. I wonder where she purchased it. Daisy does not like wearing the fur I bought her. She says other students would disapprove because it is not appropriate to kill animals and then wear their skins. I say nothing about the yards of leather that adorn the students that walk by us daily, and accept this as a truth I will not ever fully comprehend.
“Let’s hope his package is godlike or all my efforts will be wasted,” responds the short one.
Ah, it is a sexual reference. She wishes to have vigorous sex with a man who looks like a Norse god. “Hopefully she will not strike any part of his package with the force of a god, let alone an angry one.”
The post Last Hit: Reloaded appeared first on Jen Frederick.
January 6, 2015
Thank you bloggers!
I’d like to thank the following bloggers for including my books in their Best of 2014 posts. There are so many wonderful books to choice from, so I’m honored to have one of mine chosen.
Books, Chocolate, and Lip Gloss
The post Thank you bloggers! appeared first on Jen Frederick.
January 1, 2015
The Charlotte Chronicles – Thank you to bloggers, Part II
I had a lot of fun visiting the blog tour stops for Charlotte because I love reading other reader’s opinions, no matter what they were. I feel like I can get a sense of what worked and what didn’t for some and that always gives me food for thought. Plus, the effort that you bloggers put into these reviews and posts is really mindblowing. I appreciate and applaud you all.
Jammie from 2BookAholics doesn’t want you to miss out:
I wish I could tell you how many ways loved this book, it was a tear-jerking, emotional, rollercoaster.
Pepper from All Romance Reviews said it’s a must read:
If you haven’t gotten into this series. YOU MUST!! It’s everything. It’s perfection.
Gloria from As You Wish Reviews said:
This is an EPIC love story! You will be hooked, so do not try to fight it.
Amanda K Byrne said:
It’s a good story, a solid and satisfying one, and will definitely please those who’ve been waiting for Nate and Charlotte to get their moment in the sun.
Tarah from Dirty Laundry Review said this book got to her:
I laughed, I nearly cried, I squirmed… this book has all the good, the bad, and the thought-provoking. Sweet, sexy, and hilarious.
Kawehi from Kawehi’s Book Blog said:
Nathan and Charlotte’s romance was the ultimate testament of unwaveringPUREselfless LOVE. Loved it.
Kara from Two Book Pushers loved it:
I’m a sucker for second chance romance and this is an epic story of finding your one an only true love again.
Ashton from Falling in Fall thought it was amazing:
The Charlotte Chronicles is a must-read… like… RIGHT NOW MUST-READ
Greta from Greta Book Lovers has a review in Italian, for those who can read it!
JXXX Pink Lady said:
The Charlotte Chronicles begins in a very Young-Adult-genre-way but Charlotte and Nathan do a lot of growing up during this story and in the second part we experience how they have developed in terms of their characters and their sexual desires… It turns into a very sexy New Adult book with a gorgeous steam factor. It’s lovely
Jamie from All is Read said:
This book was a rollercoaster of emotions starting from page one. The Charlotte Chronicles put my heart in a vise grip and didn’t let go.
Kristen from Drama Queens Book Blog said it was an epic love story:
This book made me feel SO much! I laughed, I cried, I yelled, I laughed and cried some more… but through it all I rooted for these two people to be together and have their happily ever after.
Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews wanted more from part two:
I really enjoyed the young adult part of the story to see how Nate and Charlie interacted, and what happened to put them where they are 9-10 years later.
Worlds of Words said:
The relationship between Nathan and Charlotte is endearing and really pulls at the readers emotions.
Just One More Romance Blog said:
You have to experience this beautiful, heartbreaking story for yourself. I promise you wont regret it!
Love N. Books thought Charlotte was one strong cookie:
Jen’s writing is just beautiful. She brings life to her words. I have yet to read a book by her where I have not felt like I was walking right in the characters shoes.
Janna from My Secret Romance Book Reviews said:
I was hooked and never wanted it to end.
Jennifer from Random Jendsmit gave it 5 stars:
I absolutely love this story! I as a slightly obsessed JF fan stalked my email for this story every week.
Sanne from Scandalous Book Blog said:
Conclusion: epic love, emotional and a complicated ride!
Chelsea from Book Blogger Paradise said:
Overall, this book really blew me away and stole my heart. Jen knows how to create incredible characters and build storylines that keep you hooked.
Amanda from Written Revelry is a huge fan:
The Charlotte Chronicles brings out all the feels. The excitement of first love, the ache from your first heartbreak, the hesitance and longing when that spark makes a reappearance and a dash of fear from the unknown of how fragile life can be.
Hetty from Best Sellers and Best Stellars said:
This is the type of book that captures you from page one and holds you interest until the final word.
Ava from Biblio Belles Book Blog said:
Charlotte and Nathan have been though it all. But they proved in the end, time or distance didn’t matter, they belonged together.
Cathy from Book Babblin said:
I was so sucked into the turmoil of their lives and problems I didn’t realize I had been reading for 5 hours. I couldn’t put it down.
Bookworm Betties said:
It really was an amazing ride that will capture you right from the start and hold on to every last ounce of your attention through to the end.
Ruby from Ruby Loves Books said:
I absolutely loved this book. It was so sweet and heartwarming.
Michel from Smut Book Junkie Book Reviews was excited for this release:
The reader gets to experience Nathan and Charlottes lives from the beginning. They get to experience the growing pains, the highs and lows in life, the insecurities that go along with maturing, the wonders of first love, the heartbreak of losing love, the fear of dying, the joy of finding the once in a lifetime love, and finding the courage to make the ultimate commitments in life.
The Next Chapter Book Blog said:
These two are a fire storm together, meant to be together the moment they were put on this Earth.
Chelsea from Author Groupies said:
I have been looking forward to his book since I found out about it!
Becca from Becca the Bibliophile said:
This is an epic love story, just like their parents before them.
BJ’s Reviews said:
The Charlotte Chronicles is one of those great books that will keep you reading into the wee hours of the morning to finish it, and then totally emotionally spent the next day thereafter as you’re digesting all the turbulent feelings it stirred the night before.
Book Freak said it did not disappoint:
Jen Frederick gives us another heartwarming, heartbreaking, passionate & inspiring story of love and how it endures time, absence and illness.
Books Need TLC said:
Jen does a good job tearing your heart out and sewing it back together.
Chanpreet of Confessions of a YA and NA Book Addict said:
I’ve read and experienced Jen Frederick’s books before. They’ve always been strong and packed an emotional punch.
Michelle of Four Chicks Flipping Pages said:
If you are looking for a story where every kiss, sensual touch and letters exchanged will touch your heart, then look no further than The Charlotte Chronicles.
KCB Reviews said:
I could definitely feel the love between these two. It’s a good read.
Nice and Naughty Book Club said:
Charlotte & Nathan are one of those books couples that take you along for the journey and make you feel through every look, word & touch exchanged.
Purpinkroses Book Corner said:
There is nothing I didn’t like about this book
Nichole from Sizzling Pages said:
I cried and I laughed and I was in total romance bliss. I really just can’t wait for more from this genuine ROMANCE writer.
Summer’s Book Blog said:
She makes it impossible to put the book down, to stop reading, because all you want is more.
The Ultimate Fan Blog gave it 5 stars:
It has the right amount of angst and there may come a time when you will have to put it down and take a deep breath!
TJ from Romance Book Blog said:
One of the best romantic escapes I’ve ever taken!
Amie from We Stole Your Book Boyfriend said:
This story is heartbreaking and healing and all things in between !!
Thanks for the following blogs for shining a spotlight on The Charlotte Chronicles:
Rambling from Beneath the Sheets
An Aussie Girls Wild Book Addiction
A One-Click Addict’s Book Blog
101 Ways to Make Love to a Spoon
Fictional Rendezvous Book Blog
The post The Charlotte Chronicles – Thank you to bloggers, Part II appeared first on Jen Frederick.
December 15, 2014
The Charlotte Chronicles – Thank you to bloggers
I had a lot of fun visiting the blog tour stops today because I love reading other reader’s opinions, no matter what they were. I feel like I can get a sense of what worked and what didn’t for some and that always gives me food for thought. Plus, the effort that you bloggers put into these reviews and posts is really mindblowing. I appreciate and applaud you all.
Helena from Book Hooked said:
Essentially this is a book about second chance love, its really angsty at times, which is my go to book any day! and who can say no to a muscly hot navy seal?
Suzi from Obsessive Reading Disorder loved Charlotte and Nathan:
The book is about that quest for lifelong love.
Book Lover 4 Life was touched by Charlotte and Nathan’s story:
This story broke my heart and put it back together again. It made me long for the kind of everlasting love that these two shared.
Liz at Liz’s Reading Life wanted more groveling from Nathan, but said:
I enjoyed this book even with the angst.
TJ Loves to Read loved the book:
One of the best romantic escapes I’ve ever taken!
Thanks for the following blogs for shining a spotlight on The Charlotte Chronicles:
Confessions of a Y.A. and N.A. Book Addict
Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents
Night and Day book blog and review
Sizzling Pages Romance Reviews
Twin Sisters Rockin Book Reviews
101 Ways to Make Love to a Spoon
A One-click Addict’s Book Blog
Fictional Rendezvous Book Blog
Ramblings From Beneath the Sheets
Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews
The post The Charlotte Chronicles – Thank you to bloggers appeared first on Jen Frederick.
December 12, 2014
The Charlotte Chronicles – Chapter Thirty-five
AMZN | BN | iBooks | Kobo | Smash
If you want Charlotte and Nathan’s story in your ebook library, hit your favorite vendor. It’s 99c just for you until December 18.
Chapter Thirty-five
Dear Charlotte,
I can’t tell you where I am. I can’t tell you what I’m doing. I don’t even know if I can tell you who I’m doing it with, although you can probably guess. Looking back it’s possible that my letter writing never took off because I never had much to say. What I know is I miss you like mad. You said that these letters would make us feel more connected, but they only remind me how far away you are. The morning after we learned you had cancer, you woke before me. The sheets were cold, and I had this terrible fear that you were gone.
Fight hard for me baby. I can’t imagine this life without you.
Missing you,
Nate
Dear Nathan,
You were right. If you had told me when I was in Switzerland that you were going to enlist, I would have thrown myself at your feet and begged you to stay. I realize now why I got sent away. It was because I wasn’t strong enough to stand on my own two feet. At sixteen, though, few of us are, so I’m not going to beat myself up over it. But I leaned on you and Nick far too much.
In hindsight it is so obvious. With an ocean between us, I could concentrate on my sole mission of getting better. When I was near you, I wanted to pretend that I was a normal high school student who could keep doing all the things she had been doing. I’m sorry I placed the burden on you. And yes, it was a burden, even if you protest that you wanted to carry it. We were all too young for those kinds of expectations. And I was too fearful of everything.
Radiation and chemo are a lot easier this time around. I know what to expect. There’s no real uncertainty. It doesn’t hurt that I have such an amazing view. And your mother has been tremendous. Two days ago, she came in with her box of letters and read a couple that your dad had sent when he was deployed. He was so poetic! I think I made him blush with all my compliments about his mad correspondence skills.
I’m sleepy now. I need to be ready for surgery in a few weeks, so I’m going to put away my writing materials and get some rest. Learning to pay attention to my body is a lesson I’m still learning.
Love you,
Charlotte
Dear Charlotte,
I don’t know when you’ll receive these letters. The mail doesn’t go out on a regular basis. Although that’s probably more than I should be saying. Did I ever tell you that Cab reads poetry? His mom is a high school English teacher, and she got him hooked on Walt Whitman and E.E. Cummings. Whitman, if you aren’t familiar with his work, didn’t believe in rhyming. I told Cab that I was more of a Dr. Seuss man myself.
Not much makes Cab recoil in horror, but that was one of them. Since our first deployment, he’s been shoving Whitman down my throat. We’re bunking together, as we always do, and he’s reading it out loud. There’s a whole section in Leaves of Grass about love. I think we skipped that in American Lit at North Prep. The only poet I remember is Cummings because Nick and I laughed like the juveniles we were at his last name. Cummings. HA HA HA. Right?
I also remembered he’d written that poem about fog and a cat. Oh shit, apparently that’s not Cummings but Carl Sandberg. Your mom told me this in the kitchen after I snuck out of your room after spending the night. Our first night. Should I be proud that I know the names of more than one poet or ashamed that I’m messing them all up?
Cab says the perfect passage for you isn’t Whitman at all but from Alfred Tennyson.
Oh heart, are you great enough for love?
I have heard of thorns and briers.
Over the thorns and briers,
Over the meadows and stiles,
Over the world to the end of it.
Flash of a million miles.
Love your now learned husband,
Nathan
Dear Nathan,
You wrote me poetry.
You wrote me poetry!
Yes, I realize that you were transcribing someone else’s words but poetry? In a letter? I about orgasmed on the spot. Yes, orgasmed. 
Don’t worry though. Masturbating is never going to be as good as you touching me. Are you scandalized I’m writing this? I can’t help it. God, it just occurs to me that maybe someone prescreens your mail for security purposes?
I should just go all out. I miss your body, the warm drag of your lips along my skin. I love your big hands and how they make me feel protected and delicate. When I close my eyes, I replay a few of our interludes. I have favorites, but I’m not going to tell you what they are until you get back because I’m evil like that.
Hornily yours,
Charlotte
Dear Charlotte,
Jesus Fucking Christ, baby. If poetry gets you to write dirty letters to me, I’ll just copy the entire volume of Leaves of Grass in each letter. No, my letters aren’t prescreened, and if they were, someone just got an unfortunate boner.
Mine is also unfortunate. The worst part of deployments or missions is the lack of privacy. You almost always bunk with someone unless you have “admiral” in your title. If there’s one reason to be an officer, more privacy would be it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard some random squib jacking it. Welp, that’s probably more information than you wanted to hear and thinking of my teammates walking the dog, so to speak, has killed my own boner.
Keep rubbing them out. The endorphin release is good for you. As for me? I’m saving it all up. Be prepared. Eat a lot of protein and drink a lot of water because it’s going to be a marathon.
Nate
Dear Nathan,
I’ve been cleared for the resection of the tumor. This makes me all kinds of happy. Isn’t it funny, though, how no one uses the words amputation at the hospital? It’s all “tumor resection” and “radical intervention” but no “we’re cutting off your limb!”
At first, I was very upset at the idea of losing my leg because I was struck by the vanity of it all. But each day that passes with that diseased thing still attached to my body, the more I want it off. Dr. Bhoraskar keeps telling me he’s positive it will be a below-the-knee amputation, but I want him to cut it all off if it means I’ll be cancer free.
It’s been beastly hot up here. There’s no wind and the lake looks like it’s made of glass. Nick came up after the last of the preseason games. He’s excited to start the new season. They are saying really good things about his team. Lainey traveled with him, and they could not take their eyes off each other. Grace and I wanted to keep Cassidy with us for the rest of the summer so that the two of them could fight or fuck away their issues. Probably a little of both. I haven’t been able to convince Lainey yet, but I think she’s coming around to the idea. She could use the break.
Watching someone else’s relationship drama is a lot more fun that experiencing your own, that’s for darn sure.
Happily bored with you,
Charlotte
Dear Charlotte,
Wait, we’ve barely been married for a month and already you are bored? Write me another dirty letter. Or better yet, let me tell you in exact and explicit detail what I want to do to you when I see you.
I’m going to eat your pussy. For hours. Long, endless hours. There will be no part of your cunt that I will not have explored, tasted, licked, at least five times. I am literally going to devour you. Fuck, I miss the taste of you on my tongue and the feel of your body beneath mine. I plan to take you in a hundred different ways.
I want you completely drenched and ready because my dick is so hard and huge that you need to be wetter than you’ve ever been . . . shit, I just snapped my pencil in half.
Baby, I can’t wait to see you. I’m going to come inside of you for a century.
Then we’ll see how boring our marriage is.
Nate
Dear Nathan,
I am completely scandalized. I had to read your letter three or four times I was so shocked. Write me more.
Hungrily awaiting you,
Charlotte
Dear Charlotte,
We’re writing postcard sized messages now? I deserve more than that.
Nate
Dear Nathan,
I humbly request that you forgive me for the brevity of my previous response. I was so physically and emotionally overcome by your message that I was not able to compose myself sufficiently to respond appropriately.
The whole family has moved, en masse, into your home. By that I mean Mom and Daddy, Noah and Grace, Reese and Cassidy. Lainey has given her up for a few weeks. Her ostensible excuse is that she needs to devote more time to holding my business together.
This is undoubtedly true, but I’m guessing that it also has something to do with Nick as well. I’m being careful not to say anything because I want this to happen for them. I think they make the perfect couple!
I’ve had Mom’s attorneys draw me up a new business agreement. I’m making Reese and Lainey true partners. After surgery, I need to spend most of my time focusing on therapy and recovery. Travel will be particularly difficult. Plus, there’s you with your promise of sexing me up nonstop. I can’t be in, say, Seattle while you are in San Diego. You have a big penis, but it’s not that big. (And thank God for that).
I’m going into surgery in three days. I’m terrified but hopeful. I want this to be over, and God, I wish you were home with me. I didn’t want to write that to you because I worry it will make you feel guilty about being away. Don’t feel guilty, but do know that I’m half a person without you.
Love you so much,
Charlotte
Dear Charlotte,
I had a long day and didn’t think I would have the energy to write tonight. I had just enough in my tank to dump a bucket of water over my head and then fall into bed. I still had my boots on, but even though my body was exhausted my mind kept telling me I couldn’t sleep yet because I hadn’t written you. I picked up the pen and started writing your name over and over again—dear charlotte, dear charlotte, dear charlotte—until I realized that those words were my heartbeat.
I fell asleep on the paper and woke up in the morning, pen still in my hand, your name scrawled all over.
It kills me to be away from you. I hate that you are scared and I’m not there to hold your hand. Remember that you have power in your fragility.
Lean on our families. We’re stronger because of our connections. Draw from their love and strength when your reserves are low.
Know that I’m with you. That I love you. That I’m so proud of you.
Stay strong, baby. I’ll be home soon.
Nate
Dear Nathan,
I do feel you on the other end of the pen. I envision you opening a letter and holding the paper in your hands. Your eyes moving back and forth as you take in my little writings. In that moment, we’re together. No matter how far apart we are, our hearts are connected.
The surgery went well. I feel so much better, as if a dark mantle has been lifted. Preliminary results look very good but, of course, I’m told not to read much into it. (I’m reading everything into it. Going to live until I’m 101. Going to climb a mountain. Going to swim the English Channel.)
I’ve moved to San Diego. The whole family has. It’s as if I have my only little entourage. Our parents are currently searching out the exact right home for us. There’s a lot of disagreement as to what that might be. Mom is in love with this place in La Jolla that costs more than an arm and a leg.
We’re not living in La Jolla, but the idea of being able to see the ocean every day is kind of irresistible. I’ll keep you posted.
A friend of yours came to visit me. Ford Hughes? He said he was a prior teammate of yours who left to join some other military group with a lot of letters in the name. He told me that you are the best guy that he ever knew. And that I should wait for you. And not fall in love with any of the other guys in the ward.
He went around and told everyone I was taken. We had a good laugh about it. There’s a story in his eyes. I don’t know what it is, but it looks interesting.
I’m doing mirror therapy now. I place it between my legs—no, not to look at my vagina—to make it seem like I have two limbs. The goal is to trick my mind into believing that the mirrored image actually exists. If the brain thinks I have a limb, my phantom pain from cramping goes away.
I don’t really understand how it works, but as long as I start believing I have a leg then the stupid fake cramps will go away. Hurrah! At least that’s the theory. Our brains are wild, right?
In two weeks my sutures will come out and they’ll fit me for my prosthetic. I’m excited about that.
You stay strong too. I’m here waiting for you.
Your loving wife,
Charlotte
***
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The post The Charlotte Chronicles – Chapter Thirty-five appeared first on Jen Frederick.
December 4, 2014
The Charlotte Chronicles – Chapter Thirty-four
Charlotte
Nathan carries me over the threshold of the presidential suite at The Drake Hotel. With its six rooms, it’s likely bigger than my condo. “Princess Diana stayed here you know,” I tell him as we sweep by the living room. I catch a glimpse of pale blue velvet covered sofas and ornate floor-to-ceiling drapery before I’m whisked into the bedroom and deposited onto a beige and white striped coverlet.
There’s a bowl of roses and a champagne bucket on the glass coffee table. None of that interests Nate. He deposits me on my feet next to the bed but doesn’t allow me to sit down. He kneels in front of me and lifts my skirt, slipping one shoe off and then the other. They are tossed carelessly to the side as if they didn’t cost a fortune. Still kneeling, he struggles out of his jacket.
“What are you doing down there?” I can’t keep the wide grin from my face as I watch his muscles bunch and move as he discards the coat. The tie, the shirt, and his undershirt follow leaving his gleaming chest highlighted by the golden lamplight.
“What do you think?” he says.
“Shouldn’t I be removing my dress too?” I’m anxious to love him. I lift up my skirt, but he stays my hand.
“Undressing the bride is the groom’s job.” His hands slide up my stockings, stopping at the garters. “So old-fashioned. I like,” he murmurs. A finger traces the tops of the silk stockings, pausing to climb over the small bump made by the clip of the garter and then continuing around. He does this again and again until the sensations make me dizzy, until my thighs are on fire, and he has barely touched me. My legs can’t hold me, and when I begin to fall his strong hands encircle the backs of my thighs and thrust me upright.
“Whoa there, baby. You’ve got to be standing up for this.”
“I can’t,” I whimper. It’s not a plea, but a statement of fact. I can’t stand up. My legs are jelly, my core is aching, and desire is making me cloudy headed. His features are carved out of stone. His jaw is solid granite and his nose a sharp blade. He’s beautiful and harsh like the mountains and yet, there’s softness in his lips and tenderness in his eyes.
I am your shield. Your weapon.
I am the Nathan of the Charlotte and Nathan we were meant to be.
Our love will never die.
Can I come just from a touch, a look, a word? Perhaps. If the touch is Nathan’s, if the eyes are his, if the words come from his mouth. My breaths come in short, shallow pants, and the ache in my stomach spreads.
“You can,” he replies implacably and moves my feet shoulder-width apart. “Hold your skirt, baby. My hands are going to be busy.”
I crumple the expensive fabric between tight fists and rest them against my waist. One broad palm at the base of my spine steadies me. His other hand? One long finger rubs along the edge of the silk panties—the ones I have ruined by my inability to resist even one caress from this man’s hands.
“Nathan, stop teasing me,” I demand. I may even stomp my foot.
“No,” he replies, but his finger slips under the sodden fabric to stroke my swollen flesh. The contact is electric, pulling a soft gasp from me. I feel the heavy pulse of my heart at every juncture—on my neck, in my wrists, between my legs. My knees threaten to collapse, and I rock backward against his firm hand. Two of his fingers bracket my sex, moving molasses-slow along my skin. “I’m here, on my knees, showing you my devotion.”
“Show me your devotion while we’re lying down and I can feel you,” I beg.
He ignores my pleas.
“All day and night I thought about what might be under this froth of a dress. After we walked down the aisle, after we were pronounced man and wife, I wanted to whisk you off to a private room. During the infernal never-ending dinner, sitting beside you, I wanted to ruck up your skirt and touch your knee, your thigh, your pussy.” He plunges both fingers inside me, and only because of his hands do I remain upright. A high-pitched cry escapes me, and I drench his hand. He laughs, a dark, throaty noise of satisfaction. With a twist of his fingers, he tears the delicate fabric and exposes me to his ravaging gaze. He attacks me with his mouth, sucking hard on my clit and thrusting his fingers inside me relentlessly until I hit the peak of ecstasy again. This time not even his hands can keep me upright.
I crumple, my body folding over his head as he continues to work me into a mindless frenzy. The mountain of fabric escapes my hands and flutters around him, like a curtain drawing act one to a close. God, if this is act one, I might not live to see act two. Certainly I’m blind. The sensations his tongue and fingers have wrought have set off explosions behind my closed lids.
He rises to his feet in a smooth, athletic move and captures my chin in his palm. Holding me upright, he devours my mouth, taking me over with ruthless intent. I cling to him as the storm rages around me. He grabs one edge of the buttons running down my back, and I feel his muscles tense as he prepares to tear through the dress. A sole kernel of preservation awakens, and I blurt out, “Zipper. There’s a zipper.”
After a moment of fumbling, he finds the zipper and I wriggle out of the dress.
“What in the glorious hell do you have on?” he asks, smoothing his hands down the sides of my tightly-bound waist.
“It’s a corset.” I spread my arms out along the crisp coverlet in a sultry pose, displaying the nipped-in waist and my breasts, covered in ecru satin, ribbons, and lace.
“Yes.” He licks his lips. “I’m going to fuck you in this. Spread your legs.”
His hot eyes rove over me with greedy raw desire. I do as he commands. A wild urge overtakes me, and I dip my French-tipped fingernails between my legs, rubbing the very parts that he had just sucked and licked until I was shuddering with passion.
“Fuck,” he hisses.
The momentum has shifted, and I feel infused with power.
“Take off your pants,” I order. He responds with hasty, jerky motions. His pants are ripped off, and his hard desire juts out proudly from the curls of hair between his legs. I want to investigate his length with my hands and tongue. Sweeping my legs under me, I attempt to rise, but he falls forward.
“Oh no, you don’t. One lick and I’m coming all over your tits,” he says, crudely pushing me down. “And tonight? Tonight, I’m filling you up.” He rolls on a condom and takes his hot shaft in his hand and arrows into my ready heat. The staff between his legs is his real weapon, and he wields it mercilessly within my delicate flesh. Each stroke of his hips, each deep thrust is made with deliberate intent. On either side of my head he braces an arm. The prominent veins in his forearm proclaim the effort of his restraint.
I wriggle beneath him. The tight corset binds me like a rope, constricting my breathing and heightening every sensation. He is everywhere. Inside me, surrounding me. The smell of his plain soap and clean sweat invades my head. Above me are acres of golden, muscled skin. And between my legs is the relentless invasion of him against my most intimate nerves.
“I’m ready,” I moan.
“Not yet,” is his dark response. His hips thrust and drag against mine, compelling me to some place I’ve never been. His clever tongue laves across my collarbone, up the delicate column of my throat to cleave to my mouth.
The sure, heavy strokes drive me deeper into the vortex of sensation. I grab at his arms, slick with perspiration as they strain to hold his body over mine, to hold his passion at bay until I’m there. At the ephemeral mountain that he keeps inexorably pushing me toward. Upward, forward, until the air is so thin, so wispy, so scant that I can only gasp in tiny, short breaths.
He does something with his body, some infinitesimal movement of his hips, some special caress deep within, and I can’t hold on anymore. My grip on his arms loosens, and I dive into the spiral of sexual euphoria as the waves of pleasure crash over me. His eyes gleam with triumph as I fall.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he demands.
His heavy chest pins me to the mattress as he powers to his own release. Elbows replace hands beside my head and hunger stretches the skin taut across his cheekbones.
“I’m yours. Now. Always,” I manage to choke out.
The words of submission light him up, and he tenses and then throws back his head shouting out his climax for so long and so loudly I fear the walls of The Drake Hotel might come down.
••
Nathan
I roll to the side so I don’t crush her. I should be exhausted. The day was long and tiring. Even on short notice, there were plenty of guests at the house wanting to congratulate us or maybe just stare at the spectacle we’d become. Charlotte’s flat stomach was the subject of not-so-quiet whispers. I wish that was the reason we married so quickly. Instead, her negative pregnancy test was met with relief on all sides. If she had been pregnant? I shudder at the dilemma that would have presented.
The doctor warned me that we’d have to use prophylactics, as birth control pills couldn’t be trusted during treatment. He’d also suggested that sex might be too tiresome for her. In fact, his whole private discussion with me while Charlotte was receiving treatment was how I should keep my dick in my pants.
I had to stifle my urge to punch him. I went nine years without. A few months of celibacy while I still get to hold my girl in my arms? That’s a cakewalk.
For now, though, I’m taking advantage. This is our goddamn honeymoon after all.
Charlotte lies in boneless repletion next to me. As pretty as her underwear is, I know she’ll be more comfortable out of it. Besides, I have a strong yen to see her tits unbound and suck on her nipples.
A perusal of her front reveals no obvious fastenings. As I turn her over, a murmur of protest escapes.
“I need a minute,” she sighs. “Maybe ten.”
“Take all the time you need.” I kiss her bare shoulder. “But I bet you’ll be more comfortable if we take this straight jacket off.”
“I thought you liked the straight jacket.”
“I love the straight jacket, but I think your squashed internal organs probably need to breathe.”
“You just want to look at my breasts.”
“That too.”
The corset has a silk cord interwoven between tiny eyelet holes and fastened at the base of her spine with a familiar mooring hitch with the one tie serving as the stationary object. A quick tug on the loop releases it. A shudder of relief chases up her spine. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say a sailor was in the sunporch tying these knots.”
“It was your mom. Maybe it’s all those years of sailing.”
A memory flashes before me of a rope lying half under the bed in my parents’ room. I shake my head quickly to dispel the image of my mother, rope, and a bed all in one setting. Instead, I concentrate on the pale skin before me. The corset sides fall away to reveal deep red marks running vertically along her frame.
“Poor baby. Do these hurt?” I press my thumbs against her shoulder muscles in long sweeping motions from the curve of her neck to the arm and back again.
She groans in delight. “No, but that feels good. Don’t stop.”
I apply myself with dedication to kneading out any soreness or cramping. Along the bruises made by the corset, I soften my touch. Around us is our wedding finery—my uniform that I’ve never treated so callously, her expensive dress, and fancy underwear.
“You’re my wife, Charlotte,” I exclaim in quiet wonderment.
After all this time, all of our years apart, after her disease, my fucked up head, we’re together. Mr. and Mrs. Nathan Jackson. She’s mine until time folds this world up and moves on. And even then, I imagine we’ll be two atoms bonded together floating out into the great unknown.
“Mmmhmmm,” is her sleepy response.
I keep massaging until her breath evens out and deepens and I know she is asleep. The bed in here is destroyed, but I manage to set one side to rights and tuck her in. Folding my body around her, I close my eyes and follow her down with a smile.
We make love for the next two days, stopping only to rest. The rest of the time, I’m touching her, inside of her, covering her. When we have breakfast, I hold her on my lap and feed her with one hand while the other one fingers her curls and rubs her pussy. When we shower, I take her up against the tiles, my arm holding her tight against my body as I pound into her from behind. The water sluices over us making everything slippery and wet.
This place has six rooms and a dozen flat surfaces. I’ve fucked her on all of them at least twice. By the day of her treatment, she is bruised, worn, and never looked more gorgeous.
When a knock on the door sounds, I think it’s room service and open the door. Leaving it ajar, I walk toward the bar where my wallet is. “Come in. You can put it on the coffee table by the sofas.”
“Chief,” the voice at the door says. I spin around because no room service wait staff is going to call me chief. The gold bars on his uniform mark him as a lieutenant junior grade.
“No.” It slips out involuntarily.
“Sorry.” And he is. The officer rocks back on his heels, as awkward and unhappy as I am.
“Is it room service?” Charlotte calls. She meanders out of the bedroom, swallowed up in the hotel robe and looking sexy and disheveled. Her hair is a rat’s nest, and her gorgeous skin is flushed with exertion.
The officer can’t stop gawking at her. I clear my throat, and his gaze falls to the floor.
“Your phone is off, and you were unavailable. According to section—”
I cut him off. “What is it?”
“You need to come in ASAP.”
Of course I do. “I’m on shore leave.”
“Not anymore, Chief.”
He apparently isn’t leaving until I go with him. Charlotte presses her lips together and disappears into the bedroom. Inside she is throwing my clothes into a case. There are a million things I want to do right now and none of them include leaving her. Throwing the LT out the window is one. Slamming the suitcase shut and shoving it in the back of the hotel closet is another. Tossing her onto the bed and ramming myself into the wet heat of her body is on the top of the list.
Leaving is way down on the bottom. It’s not even on the list.
Charlotte can read every sad and sorry thought. “Even if you wanted to quit, you’d still have this mission or training exercise or super secret adventure, so you have to go.”
I don’t want her to be right, so I keep my mouth shut.
She runs over to the desk and pulls out The Drake Hotel stationery and shoves it into the suitcase. “You write me every night, no matter what, and it’ll be just like you were here.”
Grabbing my robe lapels, she pulls me down and plants a bruising kiss on my lips. The force of her kiss is the first—and maybe only—indication she’s not happy.
“I can’t send mail all the time.”
“Save them up and send them when you can.” She throws underwear and then jeans and then a T-shirt at me. I catch them and start dressing.
“I didn’t write before in part because I’ve got zip to say. I’m shit at writing.”
“This isn’t for me, it’s for you, babe.”
I pause in zipping up my jeans and watch her as she dresses. Delicate blue and white polka dotted panties and matching bra are quickly covered by a slouchy silk blouse in a navy blue trimmed with white over a pencil thin pair of navy pants that stop around her calves. “How so?”
“You feel guilty leaving me, right?”
“Right.”
Guilty and mad. She pulls out her hair from the back of her shirt and attacks it with a brush. I’ve gotten so little time with her, I think, I can’t leave now. All these little intimacies that I’m getting acquainted with are being taken away, and I want to howl like a toddler at the unfairness of it.
“I need to be here with you,” I argue. “You’re just starting treatment.”
“There’s nothing you can do here but hold my hand. I’ve got a lot of people to do that. I have only one Nathan who owes me a shit ton of letters. Write me all those letters you owed me during the nine years we were separated.”
The reminder of my delinquency makes me wince. “I’m supposed to be your shield.”
“You are,” she says patiently. “You’re merely going to be farther away. Writing me every night will be doing something for me. I’ll look forward to getting your letters, and eventually you’ll think of me reading them and we’ll be connected.”
“It’s not the same thing.” Shit, am I whining? I think I am.
“It will mean a lot to me.” She zips my suitcase shut and then pulls it off the bed. Her struggle with the luggage rouses me out of my stupor, and I rush over to take it from her. I push my feet into my boots and heft the case in my hand.
“Writing a few words every night?” Color me skeptical.
“Yes. Every night. Consider it your homework assignment.”
Our argument, if we even had one, is over and I’ve lost. She’s pushing me out the door with one hand, and the Navy is pulling me with the other. Resigned, I grab her before she walks out the door. I don’t want our last moments to be morose. “I’m only doing this if we get to play teacher/student when I get back.”
She smirks. “I have no problem slapping your fingers with a ruler.”
“I was thinking of being the teacher, but if you want to dress up in a pencil skirt and have me nail you against a desk, I’m for that too.”
She places a palm against my cheek. “You come back to me safe and sound, and we’ll play out any fantasy you’d like.”
I capture her mouth. The LT can cool his heels until I kiss my woman goodbye. I pour everything I have into the kiss, and she gives it back a hundred fold until we are left gasping and clutching each other.
My forehead meets hers, and we rest against each other trying to catch our breaths. “I am your shield, your weapon. Fight for me too, Charlotte.”
She wraps her arms around my neck and buries her face into my chest. Through the thin fabric of my shirt, I feel the wetness of her tears dampen the cotton. “Our love will never die.”
At the LT’s cough, I separate from her and lift my bag. I don’t look back because if I do I won’t ever be able to leave.
The post The Charlotte Chronicles – Chapter Thirty-four appeared first on Jen Frederick.
November 27, 2014
Charlotte Chronicles – Chapter Thirty-three
Nathan is more nervous than I am, I think, and it has nothing to do with the flight from Dallas to Chicago. For one thing, we’re in his parents’ home, far away from any airplane.
In the few days between my diagnosis and the return to Chicago, Grace has transformed the sunporch into a bedroom/sitting room. Custom motorized shades are being installed tomorrow, but for now I can sit on an oversized chair not too far away from the bed where the IV drip and hospital monitors sit silent. In an hour or so, the nurse and oncology doctor will arrive and administer the chemo.
This is what money does for you. I don’t have to go to a hospital and lie in an uncomfortable bed in a sterile environment. For God knows how much an hour, the hospital is moved to the Jackson’s North Shore estate, where Grace will watch over me as Mom and Noah wind down Freedom Funds.
Nathan is bewildered by it all. He stands, one arm folded over his head as he watches the tents being set up in the backyard for the wedding that will take place this week. We can’t have it on the weekend because I wouldn’t be able to stand after the treatment. So in five days we’ll hold each other’s hands under the ivy arch they are constructing and promise to love each other in sickness and in health until death do us part.
“I want to write our vows, Charlotte,” he says, somehow reading my mind. “I don’t want to say those things.”
“What things? That you’ll love and obey me?” I tease.
“No, the death do us part things.” He’s serious—so serious. Ever since the diagnosis, I don’t think he’s cracked a smile once. I’m afraid his face is going to become petrified in the stern, never have laughed freeze frame.
“Then let’s write our own vows. It’s a very hipster thing to do. I’ll post them on Pinterest after our wedding with soft focus pictures of my bouquet.”
“What is with all the fucking jokes, Charlotte? Nonstop. One quip or mocking comment after the other. That’s not you.”
“How would you know?” I shoot back, stung by his criticism and cursing. “It’s not like you stuck around to find out. If I’d had my leg amputated before, would you have run off like a scared little boy?”
He stares as if he doesn’t recognize me and then pushes the door open and stomps out.
I struggle out of the chair and run after him. The wind has whipped up, and it slams the door behind me. The sharp crack alerts him, and he turns toward me, a towering mass of anger and hurt and fear.
I hurtle myself into his arms, and he clutches me tight against him.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter against the warm skin of his neck. “It’s either laugh or cry at this point, and crying has never done anything for me.”
“God, baby, I want to be strong for both of us, but I can’t get a grip on this. I’m scared shitless. Tell me what to do.”
“Just love me.”
“I do.”
“And be honest with me.”
“I am.”
Drawing back, I press his face between my hands. “I don’t want to be a charity case—someone you’re with because you think I’ll be an old maid if you don’t marry me.”
Shock and then surprise flickers in his eyes. “Is that what you think? That I’m with you because I feel sorry for you? Jesus, I’m the lucky one here. A teammate of mine told me that the entire time he was with me, it was like looking at a dead man. I’m not alive unless I’m with you. How many limbs you have means fuck all.”
“All right,” I laugh with giddiness. “You owe your mom’s curse jar a hundred dollars.”
“If you don’t marry me, I’m going to have to pour my whole trust fund in that jar because I won’t stop cussing.”
He swings me around until we’re dizzy. Grace comes out to tell us that the doctor is here, and Nate carries me inside. He sits beside me while the drip is inserted. He holds my hair later that night when I’m sick. He feeds me little bits of toast and then curls his entire body around mine as we fall asleep.
••
“This dress is beautiful,” Lainey says reverently. The stiff satin is folded strategically, baring my shoulders. It’s nipped in at the waist, and a sea of organza floats over a heavy silk skirt. Grace’s strand of pearls hangs around my neck, representing the old and borrowed, while my parents’ wedding present, a sapphire and pearl bracelet, covers the blue and the new.
My hair is curled and falls down my back in golden waves, which is Nate’s preferred style. He loves my hair loose.
I decide against high heels, choosing instead a pair of delicate crystal studded shoes with a kitten heel. I’m not certain how long I’ll be able to stand. Treatment has left me as weak as I suspected it would.
“How’s the office?” I ask.
“It’s all motoring along perfectly,” Lainey says.
Outside of the sunporch I can hear the sound of people chattering. Despite the quickness of the wedding, a surprising number of people have shown up. Colin arrived yesterday and proceeded to flirt the pants off of half the female guests. Nate looks on with tolerant amusement while Nick scowls because Lainey has shown a surprisingly positive response to Colin’s lures. And why not? He’s handsome, famous, and he has this amazing ability to make the silliest things sound suave. He’d told Lainey upon meeting her that the only way he’d be able to live in the Windy City was if someone as warm as her would be by his side. Of course, it’s summer so he has no idea how cold it can really get but panties hit the floor. No lie.
Our parents footed the bill for chartered planes from San Diego and Dallas to bring teammates of both Nate and Nick to the wedding.
The other night, our parents tried to convince us Nate should leave his team.
“We’ll call in every favor and get you out early,” Noah vowed.
“For a price, anything can be purchased,” Dad said.
“No.” I put my foot down. “I don’t want that. I’m going to beat this, and so we’re going to go forward with our plans. I’m staying here while I get treatment, and then after surgery and whatever amputation I have to get, I’ll move to San Diego. There are veterans groups I can rehab with. Probably no one knows more about amputations than the military.”
Nate was quiet throughout the debate, but finally spoke up. “My first inclination is to quit, but Charlotte has convinced me that this is the right thing for both of us, so we’ll hope you support our decision.”
In the face of our united front, our parents fell silent. Then, in a move that makes me tear up when I recall it, Nate put our hands in the middle of the table and everyone piled on top.
I feel so much love and support, I know that I’m going to beat this disease.
“I’m nervous,” I say with surprise. My hands are clammy when I rub them together.
“I can take him off your hands for you,” Reese offers.
I wink at him. “You’re too much man for him, Reese.”
He guffaws.
The walk down the aisle between my parents is everything I had ever dreamed. A harpist plays Ave Maria and beyond the lyrical notes plucked by the musician, I can hear Lake Michigan lapping against the sand. In front of me, in his formal dinner dress uniform with its short-cut jacket, medals along his breast and his rank on the side, Nate looks gorgeous and imposing.
Beside him stands Nick, winking at Cassidy who dances down the aisle in front of us, tossing hydrangea petals on the guests rather than the white carpet.
I keep reciting my vows, worried I’ll forget them or flub them in front of all of our family and friends. Last night Nathan refused to sleep with me, telling me he had to practice.
I yelled jokingly that it wasn’t too late to go back to the traditional vows, but he only shut the door firmly behind him and escaped to his bedroom on the second floor.
“Who gives this woman’s hand in marriage?” the officiant intones. The shock of red hair, ruddy cheeks, and big belly are a dead giveaway. Inwardly I laugh. I have a flower girl dousing the guests with flowers while the mayor of Chicago marries us. For a wedding thrown together in a week, it’s gone off well.
“We do,” my parents say emphatically.
“We gather here today to see the joining of two people and two families in front of their friends, their community, and their God. If any of you has reasons why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Behind Nate, I see Nick’s eyes light up in devilry.
“I swear to God, I will beat you until you’re bloody if you say one word,” Nate hisses out of the side of his mouth. Nick is nearly bursting with the need to laugh.
The mayor says a few more things that I barely register, and then it’s time to say our vows. I hand my bouquet to Lainey and take Nathan’s outstretched hands. He grips my fingers tightly, the rough callouses reminding me of the struggles he endured without me.
The midday heat is pushed off by the wind from the lake, and all around me I can hear the sounds of our childhood. We played hide and seek among the bushes and boated on the lake. Nathan griped about the size of my swimsuit. At the time I thought he was angry, but I realize now he was confused about my changing body and his burgeoning feelings. He saved my dolls from drowning once. I should have known then he would be a SEAL.
The birds chirp their summer melody, and the harpist strums lightly in the background. Surrounding us is the love of our family enriched by the history of our past.
Even before he speaks, my heart is exploding with joy, filling every crevice in my body with light and peace and pleasure.
I’m so lucky. I grew up with the greatest parents with the greatest friends. So what that I had cancer. So what that another form is back. So what that I might not have a leg when treatment is over. So what?
I’m alive. I’m getting married to this man I’ve loved since forever. There is not a dream of mine that has not come true. All of the suffering has been worth it, just as Mom had told me so many years ago—that anything worth having was worth suffering for.
I appreciate everything today and not just the wedding, but the love of my Nathan, the pride of our families, the embrace of those who have come here to witness this amazing moment in time.
I’m so so lucky. The luckiest girl ever.
And then…
Then he begins to speak.
His voice is rough with emotion but each word is clearly stated and the words are so beautiful that angels must carry them from his mouth into the air.
“When I first saw you, my heart knew what it took my head longer to figure out. My world is a dim, soulless place without you. Today I, Nathan Beauregard Jackson, vow in front of all of creation that I will be your weapon against your enemies, your shield against those that would wish you harm, your joy during times of heartache, your shared laughter when you are happy, the fulfillment of every want, desire and need. I am yours forever, and not even death will part us.”
The birds stop chirping. The wind stills. Everyone holds their breath as the weight of his promises sing through the air.
His eyes cling to mine as the vows he wrote weave through our bond, the one that was created when I was born, that was tested when we were teenagers, and that hardened as adults. What God has sundered together, no one can sever.
I fight back tears and grab the last tendrils of composure.
“I, Charlotte Grace Randolph, pledge my troth to you. I adored the boy, and I love the man. I followed the boy but respect the man. I believed in the boy and trust the man. I pledge my eternal faithfulness, my undying love, and my forever devotion. Our journey has been long, but we have found our way into each other’s arms, and I will never leave you, never forsake you, never stop believing that you are the greatest thing that has happened and will ever happen to me. Our love will never die.”
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