Pulse, стр. 89

Melinda Atkinson-Medina- Thank you for catching me, friend. There will never be a time in my life I couldn’t count on you.

Lisa Kates- We split a bit during this, but we’re not broken.

Ashley Hartigan Tkachyk, Joanne Arcarese Schwehm, Becca Manuel, Laura Babcock Dunaway, Kim Rinaldi, and Jennifer Pikul Gass. My second round of betas. Thank you all for accepting the split second notice before Pulse went into editing. Your willingness to jump right into it amazed me.

Tina Reber- Thank you for the much needed chat sessions. You’ve anchored me in so many ways and every piece of advice you’ve ever given is tucked in my head.

To my cover artist Regina Wamba from Mai I Design and Photography- You’re simply amazing. Many indie authors in this industry said you were wonderful to work with, and they weren’t kidding. Every book I write will have your stamp on it.

To my formatter Angela McLaurin from Fictional Formats- Again, thank you. Your wonderful design and little surprises for me in Pulse were astounding. I look forward to many years of working together.

To my editor Cassie Cox- Thank you for kicking my ass. No, really. I am being serious. Thank you. You scared me at first, but you cut my ‘shit’ where needed.

To the sick, twisted, amazeballs women in TFC- Madeline Sheehan, Emmy Montes, Claribel Contreras, Syreeta Jennings, Trevlyn Tuitt, Karina Halle, and Cindy Brown. You ladies have seen me on my worst and best days. You witnessed many times when I wanted to throw in the towel, but your words pushed me forward. Either way, you listened. You gave me an ear to rant to, a shoulder to cry on, and a stage to express my fears. Our fears. I got nothing but love for each of you.

To my blog tour: True Story Book Blog, Angie’s Dreamy Reads, ‘Ssh Mom’s Reading, Fiction and Fashion, Vilma’s Book Blog, Book Boyfriend Reviews, Flirty and Dirty, Books Babes and Cheap Cabernet, Sinfully Sexy, The Little Black Book Blog, Whirlwind Books, Swoon Worthy Books, Three Chicks and Their Books, Bridger Book Bitches, Romantic Book Affairs, Becca the Bibliophile, The Rock Stars of Romance, Mommy’s Reads and Treats, The Boyfriend Bookmark, First Class Books, Book Crush, I Love Indie Books, Sugar and Spice, Menage a Book Blog, Up all Night Book Blog, Morning After a Good Book, Kindlehooked, TheSubClubBooks, Smitten, A Book Whore’s Obsessions, The Book List Reviews, and Smut Book Club. Thank you all for participating. Your blogs, among every other blog out there, whether people realize it or not, are the veins of our reading community. The blood pumping books out to readers. I said it in my acknowledgements in Collide, and I’ll say it again. Each blog amazes me. Simply… amazes me. No matter how chaotic blogger’s lives get, they still put time aside to reach out to their readers and promote books from authors they love. Authors they believe in. Authors they’ve never heard of. Some of you take a chances on unknown authors, and that says a ton. Your reviews, be them bad or good to writers, are passionate. It takes a lot to put your review out there the world, and I admire you ladies for doing so each and every day. In the grand scheme of things, blogs are overlooked. Just know most authors realize how much time and dedication goes into running one. I thank you, all listed here—and not listed here—for getting the word out about Collide and Pulse.

Last, and so not even close to the least… my readers. Hot damn, you loved my characters! What??? Let me say that again… what? Shocked doesn’t even begin to skim the surface here. Not. One. Bit. I’ve mentioned a ton of wonderful ladies above, and let me just say, on days I wanted to pull out of this ride and promptly get a refund, slip off the rollercoaster and go home, not only did they stop me, but so did you. Thousands upon thousands of emails kept me writing. Thousands upon thousands of comments on my author wall, posts, and online delivered to me what I needed the most: the drive to push on. The courage to move forward on this glorious, scary, humbling, and blessed ride that was set forth in my life. Thank you for loving my characters as much as I do. Thank you for believing in me as a writer. Thank you for telling your mothers, sisters, aunts, cousins, nieces, and friends about Collide. Though I left your mouths agape at the end of Collide, thank you cheering for me while I wrote Pulse. Not kidding when I say this, but you all have mentioned fan-girling when you’ve spoken to me, well, there’s not a time I haven’t fan-girled over you. No joke. I hope I’ve done well by you all. I hope I continue to do well. Just know, I’ll always try.

Turn the page for a sneak preview of Fear of Falling

by S.L. Jennings coming July 2013

Shit happens.

I never really understood that saying. Yeah, there were certain situations in life that were shitty, but they were just that; they were life. So it really wasn’t the shit in life that was, well, so shitty. It was life itself.

Life happens. That was much more appropriate.

Unfortunately, many of us found that out earlier than some. We found out just how awful life could really be. We found out that monsters were, indeed, real. They walked among us. They looked just like you and me. They came in the form of the people that we loved and trusted the most. The people whose only job was to love and protect us.

Funny thing about life is that it never turns out the way you want it to. It’s never fair. It’s harsh and brutal. It kicks you when you’re down. It makes you wish you could give up and part with it just to have a semblance of peace.

I almost felt that peace unintentionally. And if I had known exactly what I was fighting against, I would have succumbed to it. I would have traded my young, shitty life for the peace that came with death.

I should have. I would have been free.

I needed a drink. A strong one.

One that could possibly knock me on my ass and make me forget what I had done just 20 minutes ago. This was always the hard part. The guilt, the self-loathing. Sometimes it strangled me. I hated what I did. I hated the pain I inflicted but it was part of the process, part of what came with being me.

I hurt people, and it wasn’t something I was proud of.

Pulling into the parking lot of the first bar I spotted after leaving the scene of the crime, I punched in a number on my cell phone, speed-dialing Angel. “It’s done,” I announced, not even bothering with a cordial greeting. Those were reserved for days when I didn’t feel like locking myself away from everyone and everything. For days when I didn’t feel myself breaking into a million pieces.

Angel sighed on the other end, feeling my pain through the receiver. “You okay, baby?”

“Yeah. I will be. Down to get shit-faced?” I chuckled though I truly couldn’t find the humor in my own request.

“I’m always down. Where are you?”

After giving Angel the address, I fixed my smeared mascara in the visor mirror. I could have just stopped at a liquor store and gone home to drown my troubles, but I needed an excuse to hold it together. A distraction. In public, I’d have no choice but to plaster on a phony smile and ignore the immense guilt I felt. I’d be forced to pretend.

10…9...8…7…

I started the mental countdown ritual. I could do 10. Twenty was reserved for extra shitty days. Fifty was for all-out hellish catastrophes. Today felt more like a 10: a craptastic situation.

“You can do this,” I whispered to the reflection staring back at me. “It’s ok. You’re ok. It had to be done. You have to keep going. You can do this, Kami Duvall. You will not break. Not today.”