Friday, April 4, 2014

Twisting Fate (Fate #2) by Charisse Reid Cover

Twisting Fate Cover

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Synopsis

Kinzleigh's life came crashing down after that tragic day leaving her in a whirlwind of despair. How do you move on from something when you have a secret no one knows; a constant reminder of something so beautiful that was taken as if it never existed?
Kinzleigh Baker was the golden girl. She never partied or gave her parents an ounce of trouble. She sure as heck didn't venture out with boys. She had hopes and dreams that could only be obtained by keeping a clear head; free from emotions that only hold you back. She had her life planned out like a book, moving forward chapter by chapter. What she didn't expect was for fate to knock her off that pedestal she has been on by throwing at her one unexpected thing after another.
Finally learning we can't always control the life we planned out for ourselves she accepted the destiny she was given and even embraced it, finding a love many people never experience in a lifetime. What happens, though, when fate laughs in your face just to drastically change it all again?
Kinzleigh has realized hopes and dreams are useless. Why even bother trying when everything always gets taken from you? The only way to abstain from hurt is to have no aspirations or expectations. After finally trying to pick up the pieces of her life and live the only way she knows how, fate gets the last move again and throws in a twist no one expected. Will she finally get the ending to her story?

Excerpt
I'm exhausted. I don't even want to get out of bed, but today is Breyson's memorial service. I stand from the bed and look at my small figure in the mirror. I've lost weight from the constant pregnancy sickness and not being able to eat from the depression. I have done nothing but lay in the bed in his oversized tee shirt. My hair is dirty and and I haven't showered since I got home from the hospital.
A knock sounds at my door and opens before I can respond. One look at me and Adalynn allows a tear to fall down her face. I haven't spoken with her or anyone else for that matter. "Why didn't you tell me?" One sentence and I know exactly what she's referring to. "Don't shut me out Kinzleigh. I can help you get through all of this, but only if you let me in."
I feel numb. Everything she says goes in one ear and out the other; nothing sticks. My energy has completely left me. I don't even have the energy to shower which is why I haven't. I feel like someone walked by, reached inside and removed my soul from the confinements of my body; leaving nothing but a shell. Tears have become an expectation on a regular basis. I don't even try to wipe them away anymore.
I just stare at her blankly; no expressions to give. She walks over to me and wraps me in her arms. Her outfit goes with the way I feel; black and dark; the symbolic color for death. "When did you find out?"
I don't want to think about the baby right now. I like pretending it's not there. "After we dropped Breyson off at the airport." I can't even say it without crying all over again. I still can't believe this has become my life. How am I supposed to go back to school or cheerleading? I'll never be happy again.
She tightens her hold around me. "I'll never tell anyone until you're ready. You know I'll help you right? You don't have to go through this alone; any of it. You're my best friend and you're family to me." I know she expects the Kinzleigh she knows and loves to come back at some point, but that girl is long gone; a vapor in the wind. All I can do is recluse inside myself and try to hold on to what little bit of sanity I have left. "Come on and I'll help you get ready. You need a bath."
As embarrassing as it was to have someone help you bathe, I can't seem to find the will to care. I guess times like these are when you discover who your true friends are. I pull on my long black maxi dress and a pair of sunglasses to hide my reddened eyes. I imagine to an outsider I look like I'm on drugs. Since I've been taking my nausea medication I don't get sick as often, but I can't seem to eat either. I'm getting thinner as the days go on and my clothes are getting big, but I can't eat. I'm doing good to get down one bowl of soup a day and that's only for the baby's sake.
We pull up at the cemetery and walk over to the headstone beside Beau's, that is now waiting with his name etched on it. An open casket service wasn't necessary since there is no body. I come to stand in front of the headstone and read the letters etched into the stone.
Breyson Patrick Abercrombie
October 2, 1995-February 3,2014
Forever remembered by the ones you love
The preacher starts his speech; one that he has said a million times I'm sure. It seems too practiced and frankly, not good enough. I just stare at the headstone in front of me picturing my beautiful boy. I close my eyes and allow myself to go to my happy place while the words and sadness flow around me. Come back to me Breyson. Let me feel you. If not in body, then in spirit. I need you to keep me going. I don't have the strength to do it myself. The salty tears run down my face, underneath my shades.
I'm here baby. I'm trying to get to you. Please don't give up on me. I need you to remember our love. I need you to keep going. Wait for me.... My eyes shoot open and I feel like I'm going to pass out. I must be having a mental breakdown because I swear on everything I feel like there is someone near me and I have never been one of those people that believe in ghosts. I'm a realist, but I promise on my life I heard Breyson's beautiful voice in my head. The mind is a cruel thing. It has the ability to play tricks on us and make us hear and see things that aren't there. My subconscious wants him to be here so my mind has got to be trying to ease the pain that consumes me by giving me a little bit of false hope.
As crazy as it is, I can't help but to imagine maybe it were some kind of sign. What if it is? Could it be? I've heard crazy stories before about two souls that were meant to be, having the ability to call out to one another when they're apart; kind of like twins separated at birth but can feel each others pain and emotions subconsciously. What if it's real and I give up on him? What if me believing he's still alive actually keeps him alive? Can I dig deep down inside and find the will to still hope that it could actually happen? It's a long stretch and may make me crazier than I already am. The question I have to ask myself is would I rather live with the false hope that he could actually survive trying to get back to me or let him go just to avoid feeling crazy and go on living emotionally slaughtered?
In one sense, I have to believe that the supernatural is possible to believe in God. When you choose to believe in a higher power, you accept that the things seeming humanly impossible can actually happen if God wills them to. Can his love for me bring him home? Can our baby bring him home? Can Beau bring him home? I know God himself can, but will he? Like an answer to my question, part of a bible verse comes to me, in paraphrase of course. To have faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains...
I stand here with the war of questions going on in my mind as the memorial service comes and goes. Everyone begins walking back to their cars, but I continue to stand here, staring straight ahead. "You ready to go sweetie," mom says.
"I'll be there in a few minutes, okay?" She nods and leaves me to myself. I push my shades up on top of my head as the cars leave the cemetery behind. Most of those people will never set foot on this place again until they have to be here for the sole purpose of paying their respects; however, for people like me and Macie this becomes like a second home. I remove the plastic protected piece of paper from the pocket of my white denim jacket and walk closer to the headstone. White is not a standard color to be worn at a funeral, but I had to wear it since my black cotton dress is strapless and it's the middle of February.
Kneeling on my knees, I open the small ziplock bag and remove one of the sonogram photos I was given when I found out I was pregnant. I look down at it, remembering that last day with him. "Hey Brey. I didn't want to tell you this way, but you've left me no other option." Uncontrollable tears spill from my eyes as I try to gather my thoughts. "I'm pregnant. I wanted to wait until you got back to tell you so you could enjoy your trip, but I guess you never got there. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get pregnant. I was going to take full responsibility and give up cheerleading so you could keep your football dream, but I guess that's no longer an option. You would've been a great football player and an even better dad. I know you would've stood by me and that's why I was going to give it all up. I won't leave you here by yourself. I'll come back everyday and visit. I hope you know how much I love you." Sliding the ultrasound photo back into the plastic bag, I seal it shut.
I begin digging my nails in the grass that grows in front of the headstone, making a hole. I can't see in front of me because my eyes are blurred from not wiping my eyes. I don't see the point because they continue to fall. I don't even know where the tears are coming from anymore. "I want you to have this picture Brey. It's our baby." I place the clear plastic bag containing the photo inside the hole before covering it back up. "Why'd you break your promise Brey? I was counting on you to keep it. You were right about one thing; you've ruined me. I love you more than I love myself; more than anything in this world. I don't know why, but I'll try to wait for you. Please don't make me wait long. I'm begging you Brey. I'll beg all you want, but please don't leave me here alone."
I get that feeling again as if I'm not alone. It makes the hairs on the back of my neck and arms stand up. I really need to get a grip and check back in with reality before I end up in one of those padded rooms by myself. What's even stranger is for a moment some of the pain begins to dwindle. It's like someone is protecting me, but I can't see them. I refuse to freak myself out. I believe in the existence of angels and demons because I believe in God, but I just can't believe in ghosts or spirits being left behind when their bodies parish. Maybe I need to go back to bed. Clearly my mind is way out in left field. I'm upset and hurt and and my emotions are all over the place.
I stand for another moment before I can make myself walk away. Have you ever wished you could just pick one moment in your life and press rewind so you can go back and change it? I would go back to the night I bought those tickets and press delete or even change my mind the morning he asked me to go with him. Both ways would bring us to one outcome dead or alive; together. I walk up to the headstone, bend down and kiss the jagged stone. "Bye Brey. Always remember you're my one and only. No one will ever replace you. You have my heart and my soul, leaving the only thing remaining as being my body. Don't miss me too much." I run my fingertips along the top and turn to leave, unsure of where I want to go from here.
 
Teaser

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MeetTheAuthor

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Charisse Reid lives in the small town of Purvis, Mississippi. She is a mommy to one amazing four year old daughter. She developed a love for reading through iBooks and Kindle app, on her iPad, a year ago she never would have imagined. She loves to escape for a while through the characters of a good romance. Any romance will do; she likes to mix it up. She has developed a passion for indie authors. They seem to usually develop the best stories in her opinion. She has a love for Rocker Romance right now. Got to love those tattooed bad boys right? She never would have dreamed of writing until a fellow author friend mentioned she should try it through editing a work in progress for her.
At first, she thought it was funny because editing was as close as she thought she would get to the creative side of book writing, but then came up with a storyline and decided to give it a shot. Now she absolutely loves to write and has several books lined up that she cannot wait to share with the world.

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