H.J. Bellus's Blog, page 6

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Yesterday is Gone is LIVE!

YESTERDAY IS OURS by HJ Bellus is LIVE!

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Love struck me at a young age. Bertie Cooper owned my heart from the second grade right up until the moment I ruined everything.

I didn’t deserve her, not after what I did, so I lied and pushed her away. I took the coward’s way out and I broke her heart. Little did I know, I sentenced the rest of my days to an internal prison of hell.

I now find myself at a crossroads with the blonde beauty before me once more. And she still takes my breath away. Life just keeps on torturing me…

I’ve never believed in second chances, but I’d give anything for one with her.

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YESTERDAY IS GONE

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THAT WAS YESTERDAY

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YESTERDAY IS OURS

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2TUokaG

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MEET THE AUTHOR:

HJ Bellus is a small town girl who loves the art of storytelling. When not making readers laugh or cry, she’s a part-time livestock wrangler that can be found in the middle of Idaho, shotgunning a beer while listening to some Miranda Lambert on her Beats and rocking out in her boots.

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Yesterday is Ours

READ THE PROLOGUE

 

Prologue

Cody

The flames from the bonfire lick and lap at the star dabbled sky. Tailgates, wild dreams, and best friends are what fill my high school years. I’m the king on top of the world. A sweet smell of coconut tangled with lime assaults me. That simple scent intoxicates me. Always has since Roberta Cooper started wearing it during seventh grade.

Pretty damn sure I fell in love with the blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty when the elementary principal introduced her to our second-grade class. She had tears spilling down her face when her pencil didn’t fit in the standard pencil sharpener in our classroom. I was there by her side and have never left it. We’ve been through scraped knees, tetherball champions, the awkward middle school years, broken bones and signed casts with hearts and all, and now hopelessly in love our senior year.

Jessie and Jules cuddle together on the tailgate of his truck. Their story is much the same. They don’t fly under the radar. Instead they are the icons of the town. Homecoming queen and star athlete—they run this place. Pretty sure every citizen of Boone would elect them the mayor of the town in a heartbeat even though they are high school seniors.

Brady and Tessi perch themselves on opposite sides of his tailgate. They play it off well. Tessi and Jules are inseparable, and Brady hangs with Jessie and me. Brady and Tessi have the game of hating each other down to a tee. If I was a betting man, and I am so this is gospel, the two of them will end up hitched with two point five kids in the future, picket fence and all.

My favorite smell hits me again, and I glance away from my friends and fire down to the wild soul snuggled next to me. Roberta Cooper, also known as Bertie. She’ll always be my Bertie. My girl is a blonde-haired beauty and owns my soul. She’s mine. There was never any doubt, and honestly, neither of us ever had a choice. The force of the world threw us together.

We are settled on a log with my girl curling from her cuddled position in my lap and wrapping herself around me. My truck is parked in the distance on purpose. I’ve always been a confident person up until this moment. It’s our time. We’ve been official since our freshman year. Everyone in our county knows Bertie is mine. No one dares look her way a second longer than necessary.

My girl isn’t the homecoming queen, cheerleader or miss popular. Nope, she’ll go down in the yearbooks as the nerdy girl who always had her nose stuck in a book and that’s what I love about her most. She has her grandma, who loves her dearly and raises her, her textbooks, and me.

Brady howls along with She’s Got It All by Kenny Chesney while the rest of the clan snickers and tips back red Solo cups. I find myself whispering the words of the song into Bertie’s ear. This sweet little one has no idea how she has all my attention. When her hands drift to places that make me stutter over the words of the song, I struggle to remain where we are planted on the old drift log, perfectly placed by the bonfire. What is about to happen will be a memory in all my years I will never forget.

“I’m ready.” A sweet whisper tickles against my neck.

I glance down at the blonde beauty in my arms, her ocean blue eyes dazzling at me. My arms squeeze tighter around her, wanting to remember it all. When the song changes, I stand up with her in my arms. I’ll carry this woman wherever we go.

“Gonna head out,” I announce to the group.

Just Like Jesse James by Cher starts playing, prompting Jessie and Jules to do their own version of Dirty Dancing on the tailgate. Not one of our best friends pays any attention to us. Bertie tucks her face into my neck, peppering sweet kisses along my skin and that’s all I need to move forward.

I know these backwoods better than anyone around. It’s been my playground since I knew how to walk. My parents were more concerned about society and how much money was stuffed in their pockets. They had a child for the sake of having one since it was what society deemed appropriate. The laws of the universe weren’t on their side when this smartass redneck hillbilly plopped in their lap.

“You know I can just kiss the hell out of you if you change your mind, right?” I kiss the top of her head tightening my grip around her.

“I know, Cody.” She reaches up, stroking her finger down my jaw. “But I’m so ready.”

A gasp escapes Bertie when she sees the lit candles, fluffy ass pillows, and red plaid flannel blankets. She had earlier shared with me that it was her ideal setting for our first time. I didn’t let her down, even though it took me driving three hours to get the right bedding. Echoes of our friends belting out a favorite Garth Brooks song surrounds us.

“Should’ve parked further away.” I set Bertie on the tailgate, nesting between her spread legs. I run my palms up and down her jean-clad thighs.

“I can only hear the sound of your heartbeat drumming along with the rhythm of mine.” She cups my cheeks, dipping for a kiss. It’s sweet, tender, and hot as hell.

I know I won’t be able to stop myself tonight. I grab her by the hips, scooting her back and hopping in the back of the truck, covering her body while not breaking the kiss. Our clothing is tossed piece by piece until we are cocooned in the thick flannel blanket. Bertie is the brave one, kissing the hell out of me through each step until there’s nothing but blank space. Once we are connected there’s nothing else left worth in this world.

She’s mine.

Forever.

End of.

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Unexpected Gift

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The Cringle Cove Christmas Chronicles are live!

That Was Yesterday Prologue

THAT WAS YESTERDAY
Read the Prologue Today

Free in Kindle Unlimited!



“Max!” Her again. The thought makes me feel like a monster and sick at the same time. She’s the one woman I should be loyal to and love without second thought. But it’s a tough job. I find myself hating her more often than liking her.
“Max, now,” her throaty, smoky voice growls out. I round the corner, tucking my hands in my pockets. “Yeah, Mom?”
She’s strung out on the couch with a lit cigarette perched on her lips while she dangles an empty bottle of Vodka. “Need more booze, son. Go grab me some. Get a carton of Camels while you’re there.”
“Mom.” I glance down kicking the tip of my worn shoe against the corner of the wall. “It’s a new town, and remember I’m only twelve?”
I regret the words the moment they leave my lips. I know better than to reason or even talk to my mom when she’s in this state. She always becomes enraged.
“You spoiled little shit.” She tosses the bottle to the ground and staggers toward me, the cigarette still coupled between her lips. “I’ve fucking given you everything, and you have the fucking balls to back mouth me?”
As soon as her nasty words leave her mouth, I feel the sting of her palm across my cheek. My hands shiver in the denim of my worn pockets. I know better.
“Get your fucking ass down to that store. I’ve blown Jeremy enough, and he knows to bag up my goods for you, and if you want to talk back, go for it, you piece of shit.”
“Yes, Mom.” I glance down to my tattered sneakers that are two sizes too small.
Another sting strikes my cheek then my shirt is ripped, and a searing pain pierces my skin. The smell of smoke and her cackle cause my spine to shiver. Tears threaten to spill over from the pain. But I learned a long time ago: crying only makes it worse. “Now fucking get gone.” She shoves me back, ramming my back into the sharp corner of the wall. “You have twenty minutes before I call the cops.”
I keep my head facing down but can’t help the smirk on my face. That used to work when I was five. It put real fear in me. Now, I know it’s a lie and always has been. There’s no way she could call the cops. I wish like nothing else she would. And maybe, just maybe, they might save me.
I kick rocks on the dirt road with each step, keeping my shoulders slumped and avoiding rubbing the pain in my chest. My heart hurts worse than the new burn. It now makes over a dozen of them.
We’ve moved countless times. It always starts with a paper posted on our door. I soon learned it’s an eviction notice. I remember the day I asked my second-grade teacher what the word was. I knew it started with an “e” but couldn’t make out the rest of it.
I’ll never forget the smile that crossed her face and the unmistakable joy that overtook her features when she explained the concept. It wasn’t until a few months later that I connected all the dots. She was thrilled to get rid of me.
We’ve been in Boone now for two months. Mom has a sweet deal with the owner. He comes over when he feels like it, they shut the door, and lots of sounds come from it. Mom brags all the time about not having to pay rent. It’s by far the worst house we’ve ever lived in, with creaky floors and leaks everywhere. The carpet in my room is nice, though, and makes a soft bed.
“Watch out, kid.” A larger boy brushes by me, shoving my shoulder. “God, you stink.”
His friends laugh along with the cruel joke. I’d made it to town and hadn’t even realized. I keep my gaze focused on the tiny market on the corner, not paying them any attention. I’ve heard it all.
“I bet he’s the new boy. Heard his momma was nothing but a whore,” a voice chides from my back.
I keep walking with my head down. Nothing ever comes out of sticking up for myself. The burns on my chest speak for that.
“You deaf?” A hand shoves my shoulder. Laughter fills the air. “Probably deaf and dumb.” A rock sails through the air, nailing my shoulder.
I don’t stop. They follow me all the way to the corner, taunting me and tossing rocks. Eventually, they give up when I don’t react. I know it won’t be the last I see of them. They’ll make my school year a living hell. It’s pathetic to think I never want summer to end because that’s all I have to look forward to.
The bell above the door rings. The aroma of food hits me, reminding me how hungry I am. Since Mom doesn’t have to pay rent, she dumps her monthly checks into booze and cigarettes. I clutch the fifty- dollar bill in my hand, wanting nothing more than to buy a hotdog, smother it in mustard, and fill an extra- large cup with cherry slushy.
The crisp bill in my hand is a brutal reminder of the pay from my dad. He pays my mom a hefty sum every month to keep me a secret. It’s always been like that.
“Did you all hear Jessie might be coming back to town? Heard his injury is pretty damn bad,” a random voice announces.
Endless chatter ensues about this Jessie guy. I run my hand along the row of chips, imagining their salty goodness before making my way to the counter. A neon yellow poster catches my attention.
Summer Football Camp Hosted by Hometown Legend: Jessie James
I continue reading all the print, growing more and more excited as I do. Sports have always been my one escape, even when it’s just me in the backyard tossing a deflated ball against the side of the house after Mom has passed out.
My heart sinks when I read the cost. It will never be an option for me. Mom would never fork over a hundred dollars for her kid to spend a week doing what he loves.
I clear my throat. “Excuse me, sir. I’m here to pick up an order.”
I’ve learned it’s best to use code words rather than asking for a bottle and a pack.
“You Max?” The burly man with stained yellow teeth leans down on the counter.
He’s for sure my mom’s type. I’ve never understood why she goes for these types of men with big bellies and dirt under their nails when she’s the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. At least she was before she decided to drown herself in booze. “Yes, sir.” I nod, holding out a trembling hand. “Should’ve known. You look just like your momma.” He bends down, pulling up a brown paper bag. “Thank you, sir.” I nod and eye the piece of paper one more time.
“Go ahead and take one.” He pushes one my direction.
“No, thank you.” Embarrassment and shame, a well-known friend, creeps up my spine. I turn before tears really do escape this time. I notice a booth in the corner filled with farmers drinking coffee and talking. One of the men stands up from the booth and extends his hand my direction.
“Hey there, son. I’m Papa.” His warm and friendly greeting shocks me. I’m taken aback. No one is ever nice to me. They stay far away from me, staring at me like a freak of nature. In a natural response, I take a step back.
“I’m Jack. Most people around these parts know me as Papa. What’s your name?” He jerks his chin, keeping his hand outstretched.
With a trembling hand, I shake his. “You must live out on the Conrad place north of town with your momma?”
I nod and shake his hand. The moment the connection is made, I know he’s a different kind. There’s something about the thick flannel work shirt he’s wearing, his kind smiles, and the wrinkles that shadow his eyes.
“Yes, sir.” I nod again. “Well, son, I’ve paid for a spot at that football camp. Just got news today the young man can’t attend. It’s all yours if you’d like.”
My jaw slackens. I’m shocked by the grace of kindness shown to me. It was one small action. One I had no idea would change my life forever.
“Thank you, sir.” I smile for the first time in my life. I’d have to walk to town and back, which to the school is more than a good mile. But I’ll do it.
“If you ever need anything, you come find me out at Jones’ farm or ask for me in town, son. And I mean it.”
“Thank you,” I repeat myself again.
It ended up that I met this man the town hails as a hero, Jessie. He was kind and caring but never showed anyone favoritism. It was the tiny spark that ignited the fire inside me.

That Was Yesterday Excerpt

THAT WAS YESTERDAY by HJ Bellus releases December 4th!

Now Live: https://amzn.to/2FrStbt

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One call. That’s all it took to change everything. The sweet voice on the other end of the line delivered a blow I never saw coming. Fighting for our country’s freedom and staring death in the eye was nothing compared to this news.

History has one hell of a way repeating itself. Kate Wilson’s voice didn’t waver once as she turned my worst nightmare into a reality, and her words weaved a cruel poetic justice.

I hadn’t been back home in over two years. Once I pulled into the one-horse town, I was greeted by the gorgeous blonde.

Kate extended her hand and offered me a warm smile. The connection was made. The innocent beauty has no idea that she just flipped my life upside down.

She’d unearthed secrets that can never be buried.

EXCERPT REVEAL:

The front doors of the school burst open. I find myself stepping closer yet remaining a safe distance in the background. Several other parents have pulled in and leaped out of their cars, making it easy to blend in.

A whirl of bright blonde hair followed by giggles and excited chatter fills the afternoon air. A woman with her hair piled up on her head pushes up her black-framed glasses on her nose then does some chant and clap. The little line of students behind her follow and cease all chatter.

I’m not close enough to hear what the woman tells the children. I’m not even sure if she’s a teacher dressed in jean capris and a baseball tee with the school logo on it. She sure in the hell doesn’t look like the teachers did when I was in school. I shake the thoughts from my head and watch her crouch down and high-five each student. Some dive in for a hug while others skip by with a simple wave.

“Holy shit.” I find myself taking a few steps closer when I see him.

I pinch my lips together to keep my emotions contained when I see a little boy with messy brown hair, rich chocolate eyes, and a sad smile on his face. His jeans are worn, and his tennis shoes are on their last thread. My heart constricts in my chest, and my palms go sweaty as I watch the teacher drop to her knee in front of him.

He was the last in line, I’m sure shoved to the back from the other eager students. He reaches up, wiping a stray tear from under his eyes. Kate. This has to be Kate who wraps him up in a full hug, whispering something into his ear. He nods and eventually lets go of her.

MEET THE AUTHOR:
HJ Bellus is a small town girl who loves the art of storytelling. When not making readers laugh or cry, she’s a part-time livestock wrangler that can be found in the middle of Idaho, shotgunning a beer while listening to some Miranda Lambert on her Beats and rocking out in her boots.

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