Just as Tyler taught me to ignore the fear of travelling when the only detail required was Canada, I needed to ignore the niggling doubt of impossibility buzzing through my foggy brain, because the only detail I needed to focus on was Tyler. With his voice in my head telling me I was going to be great, that I could do this, I trusted him.
I returned Victoria to the shelf, folded the A4 sheet of paper in four and held it to my aching chest, each inward breath pinching around my heart. I clenched my eyes closed, this was all I had of him now. A whimper escaped and I opened my eyes. No. I had so much more than this letter.
Tyler gave me his love. He gave me the ability to change my dreams – to save people’s lives. He gave me wings.
I staggered a step, steadied myself on the table, and focused. I could do this. I was ready and set…
To fly.
Acknowledgements
When I first decided to write a novel, I had this crazy idea it’d be easy, that I could write a few words, tweak things a bit and tadaa, I made a book. Every writer who ever lived is laughing at me right now. This book has become far more than I ever hoped or imagined it to be and it’s because of so many wonderful people in my life. I am truly blessed.
Firstly to my daughter, Ajah, my first supporter and reader. Thank you for always being honest with me about what worked and what didn’t. And for sharing with me your dreams – the very first inspiration for this story.
To the best mum ever, for lifting me up when I struggled, for showing me what perseverance looks like, and for your undying support, even after reading those horrid early pages. Thank you.
Stephanie Childs, Danielle Walsh, and my fabulous sister Naomi Buick, thank you for being brave enough to read those crappy first drafts and still cheering me on the whole way. Your feedback and honesty has been invaluable.
Kate Bradley, the emails you sent after reading each chapter gave me more encouragement than you’ll ever know. Thank you.
Thanks to my wonderful mother-in-law, Judith, for your quiet support and feedback. Fine, I’ll use more commas!
To Jessica Cassada, my overseas writing buddy. Who knew you could make such good friends with someone you’ve never met. Thanks for all your early morning encouragement.
To Sam Fairlamb for reading an early draft and composing music for me to write to. That my words have become an inspiration to some of your song writing makes it extra special. Thank you.
Ursula James, Melanie Smith, Ruth Ralph, and Deb & Isabelle Augur. Somewhere along the way you each read my words – that means a lot. Thank you for your feedback and the little boost you all gave me.
To my husband, Joe, without whom this book would not exist. Not once did you hesitate when I suggested taking on something as ludicrous as writing a book. Even when it meant you went without a decent meal or clean socks! Thank you for valuing what I do and continuing to go to work every day so I can sit at home and daydream.
To my boys, Marley & Oskar, for being quiet when I said ‘Shhh’, for willingly spending more time on the computer so I could bash out some words. Your ‘sacrifice’ means the world.
To my dad. Thank you for the bedtime stories you created out of thin air. They gave me a love of storytelling and sparked a desire within me to create magic too. ‘I’m closing my eyes, but I’m still listening.’
To Ian Hugh McAllister, his expertise for the flight and ATC scenes was enormously helpful and I’m ever so grateful. And Holly Richter for her medical knowledge and experience, which helped bring truth to the hospital scenes, thank you. Both professionals in their field, but I’m the writer and take full responsibility for any fault in these areas.
Huge thanks to Kate Foster for believing in me and loving my story. For seeing in my words what I only ever dreamed someone else would. For helping shape and mould the story into so much more than it originally was. Your advice, wisdom and support are way more than I ever thought I would get from a publisher and editor. I truly am the luckiest girl in the world.
To my other editors at Lakewater Press, Jodi Gallegos and Rebecca Carpenter, you made my words shine, thank you for sharing your talents with me.
To Robin for the incredible cover design, and Stef for his magical formatting skills. Thank you both for the final touches in getting Lucid ready and pretty for my readers.
And to everyone who took a chance on this debut author and read Lucid, thank you. Get in touch, I’d love to hear what you thought.
About the Author
Kristy Fairlamb is an Australian author of young adult novels. She enjoys spending her days drinking coffee and torturing her characters with loads of tension – both love related and the nail biting kind.
Long before her days of writing began she spent half her childhood in a make believe world, daydreaming about growing up, falling in love, and travelling the world.
She’s worked as a nanny in country England, a junior matron in a boy’s boarding school south of London, a governess in East Timor, and made coffees and cleared tables in the New South Wales snow fields.
She lives with her husband, teenage daughter, and two sons in the beautiful Adelaide Hills where they’re lucky enough to get occasional visits from the local koalas.
She’s terrible at gardening, likes her bookshelves sorted by colour, and recently checked off a lifelong dream of jumping from a plane.
When she’s not writing or daydreaming about her stories you’ll find her reading, cooking for her family, or doing anything to avoid the housework.
To keep up to date with Kristy’s author news visit her website:
KristyFairlamb.com
On Facebook: KristyFairlambAuthor
On Twitter: @Kristy_Fairlamb
On Instagram: KristyFairlambWriter
Excerpt from
LUMINOUS
Lucid Series: Book 2
— 1 —
My dreams brought me love, and then they stole that love away. Yet the dream of seeing him once more surfaced in all its heartbreaking vibrancy.
I drew in a sharp breath; every one of my six-hundred-and-fifty muscles tensing in unison. He was so beautiful. He always had been – not that I ever expected that to change.
In all the days, weeks, and months since I’d lost Tyler, I never truly imagined what it might be like to see him again. But there I was, standing diagonally across the road, a mere twenty meters from the boy who meant the world to me, yet didn’t know I existed.
A confusion of emotions – ecstasy, satisfaction, sorrow – raced through my veins at the sight of him. His hair flicked down his forehead, shadowing eyes I knew were as dark as the night. A lump formed in my throat; an accumulation of all the things I wanted to say, but couldn’t, and all the things we’d been, but in truth hadn’t. I wanted to run to him, to jump into his arms and yell, ‘You’re alive, I’ve missed you, I love you…’ But I held my feet firm, swallowed back my words and the tears that had arrived to keep the unsaid words company. My tears were like that lately, a constant and annoying companion.
Not one minute had passed where I hadn’t thought of his face. An image permanently etched into my soul the moment I’d been ripped from his arms. The memory of it like a shadow on a cold winter’s day, not seen, but an ever-present existence in my now hollow excuse of a life.
He walked beside his friends; friends he hadn’t lost to the awkwardness that followed death like a bad scent. His laughter filled the air, the kind of easy laughter you find so effortlessly when you don’t have a care in the world. His stride was light, his load unburdened from loss and responsibility.
School was out for the day, and as the group stopped walking and kids drifted around them on the footpath, his gaze lifted to mine.
I resisted the urge to smile and wave, to acknowledge how familiar he was to me. So familiar that I knew if I stood in front of him, I’d see the small dimple on his chin, and above that, the most perfect lips – lips that no longer knew mine. Mine hadn’t forgotten his, though; they never would. I’d tra
ced and retraced those lines in pencil so many times since he’d gone, afraid if I didn’t I might forget. But that would be as unimaginable as forgetting the taste of chocolate.
His eyes bored into mine, reminding me of the first time I’d seen him in the dream at the airport. I’d like to assume the curiosity in his eyes was in fact recognition, but I think it was just a glimmer of hope reflected in my own. A hope I’d held so tightly for so long; the life raft that had kept me afloat in my sea of pain, too afraid to let go, because if I did I’d sink slowly and heavily to the bottom of the ocean.
Coming Spring, 2020!
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Acknowledgements
About the Author
Excerpt from LUMINOUS
Lucid Page 27