by M. Clarke
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © M. Clarke 2015
Licensing Notes
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews.
This captivating story will forever leave its mark on your soul and your heart. A truly beautiful story that I cannot wait for everyone to read. This love story shows every princess needs a hero. And every hero needs a princess. It showed the good, the bad, and the ugly. And in the end love prevailed. Sammie—Sammie's Book Club, for book lovers
I need you to get the following supplies before even opening this read. Tissues (you’re going to need them), favorite ice-cream, the DO NOT DISTURB SIGN FOR THE DOOR, your favorite blanket and comfy chair, leave a message on your cell phone saying “I am being entranced in a special moment at this time and cannot take your call” and last but not least your charger for your reading device (you so will not want to put this read down) DawnMarie—The Book Enthusiast
Just when I thought I couldn’t possibly be even more amazed by the beautifully mesmerizing talent that is M. Clarke, she pulls the very breath from my lungs with a story that will twist the very core of your being while showing you what a real person and a true friend looks like. Amber—The Wonderings of One Person
My Serenity is by far the most emotional book by M. Clarke. It will leave a permanent mark on your heart. Diana—Books Beyond Fifty Shades
My Serenity is a story of love, passion, family, and friends. It will have you laughing, crying, and happy at the same time. It was so sweet! Another amazing story from M. Clarke. Brittany—Spare Time Book
My Serenity is an epic love story filled with pain, laughter, tears, and love. This was definitely a read that I could not put down. Jasmine—Movies, Shows, & Books
First love never forgotten, My Serenity embraces your heart with dramatic emotions while leaving you satisfied with an amazing book hangover! Michele—Insane About Books
Ms. Clarke has done it again! She's created a lovable couple that readers will relate to and want to know. InD'tale Magazine
DEDICATION
To my fans, thank you so much for your support that means the world to me. To my family and friends-for all their love and support.
Special thanks to Rick Miles-PR at Red Coat. Julie Bromley and Shannon Hunt, for everything you do for me. Lisa from The Rock Stars of Romance. Editor-Andrea Burns. Bookfabulous Design-cover designer.
My Amazing Team (Mary’s Angels): Sam Stettner, DawnMarie Carpintero, Mary La, Brittany Sharp, Kara Nichols, Melanie Osmond, Tracy Lor, Pam Beach, Candice Clifford, Amber McCallister, Diana Cardonita, Amber Hulsey-Lee, Morgan Reynolds Faufaw, Janie Iturralde, Nancy Byers, Julie Barnard, Jasmine L. Albitos, Stacey Nixon, Jennifer Pierson, Alisa Jenkins, Cody Smith-Candelaria, Venna Dowrick, Angel Vasquez
Thanks to my friend Alexandrea Weis for being my rock and strength.
Books by M. Clarke (NA) (Sold World Wide)
Something Great (READ FREE)
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Something Wonderful (Book 2)
Something Forever (Book 3)
Something Amazing (Book 4, stand-alone)
Something Precious coming soon
My Clarity
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My Serenity
Books by Mary Ting (YA) (Sold World Wide)
Crossroads (READ FREE)
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Between (Book 2)
Beyond (Book 3)
Eternity (Book 4)
Halo City (Book 4.5)
From Gods Series
From God (READ FREE)
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From Deities (Book 2)
From Origins (Book 3)
My Serenity
Book Two (Follow-up to My Clarity)
Youtube video of My Serenity recording http://youtu.be/iYe1JeIJ9yU
Download My Serenity soundtrack: http://amzn.to/1HSZYTh
Lyrics by M. Clarke
Lead Guitar: Joshua Ting
Vocalist: Melinda Martinez
PROLOGUE
Josefina
Most children were afraid of monsters, either in the closet or under the bed. They weren’t real. But my monster was real. She wasn’t made up. My monster was my mom—a living, breathing nightmare I had to endure day and night. The kind of monster I couldn’t simply run away from or wish away.
“Josefina! Get your ass over here, right now!”
My body stiffened, feeling like I’d swallowed stones. I always felt sick to my stomach when my mom yelled at me like that, and it was usually over something small. I dashed out of my room as fast as I could. Mom hated when I didn’t come immediately after she’d called my name. Even a second was too long.
“Yes, Mama?” I asked sheepishly. Standing by her bedroom door, gripping tightly to the hem of my dirty shirt, I prepared for her roar.
Mom didn’t say a word at first. It was the look of evil that got me shaking. She looked angry, and if she could, fire would have scorched out of her eyes. Wearing a pretty floral dress, she had accessorized with a pearl necklace and earrings. Her hair was neatly combed with a fake flower pinned at the side. Never had I seen a strand out of place, nor had I seen her without makeup. My mom wasn’t pretty. Although she was more on the heavy side, her clothes made her look beautiful. She pointed to the bottles of perfume lined up on her dresser.
“Do you see something wrong with that?” Though her tone was calm, it was as deadly as a rattlesnake’s venom.
Already knowing what some of them smelled like, lavender, honey, and jasmine fragrances filled my nose despite the fact the bottles were capped. The one at the end was slightly out of line, but I kept my mouth shut. My mom’s face was suddenly directly in front of mine. Her brown eyes turned darker—cold as a deadly storm. “Are you deaf, child?”
I held my hands together, preparing for what would come next. As always, the drizzle had turned into a full-blown hurricane. My lips quivered, desperately trying to find the words to bring calmness, but nothing came.
Mom grabbed the lobe of my ear, forcing me closer to the last bottle. I bit my lip, trying to stop the tears, and begged, “Mama, please. I didn’t do anything.”
“You lying to me?” Her voice got louder. “How many times do I have to tell you not to touch my stuff? You think I’m stupid? Well, I think you’re stupid. You’re seven years old and you can’t even answer a simple question.”
“I didn’t.” I tried to pull away, but the more I resisted, the more the pain intensified.
I stumbled backward as my mom pushed me away. She grabbed her favorite hairbrush—the yellow one with pretty crystals that were glued into the shape of a butterfly—the one I had wished for. That was before she had beat me with it. “Bend over.”
Tears streamed down my face. I covered my butt with my hands as if I could protect myself from her, and being that it wasn’t the first time, I could already feel the p
ain. “No, Mama. I promise. I didn’t touch it.”
Mom stood in front of the door so I couldn’t get out. Before I could blink, she grabbed my wrist and dragged me to the bed. With my body slumped across her lap and one arm holding me secure, she slammed the brush on my butt. Every word she spoke was a whip across my ass.
“Don’t—you—ever—touch—my—stuff!” Her breath was labored, beating me until she was tired.
All she cared about was her material things. And I, her daughter, was the object used to vent the rage that dwelled inside her.
“You’re ruining my dress,” she sneered and pushed me off her. My body thumped, landing on the floor. I felt broken, worthless, and not deserving of love. Curling my body into a ball, I lay there shaking and sobbing quietly. My butt felt like it was on fire. Mom hated to hear me. I knew she would beat me again and tell me to shut up. Usually when she was done, she would walk out of the room, but she didn’t this time.
“What are you staring at?” she snapped.
I wiped my tears and looked through my blurry eyes. My dad was standing by the door. He looked like he’d just gotten out of bed—more like he’d just gotten off the sofa. Dad’s jeans were unzipped and his T-shirt was molded to his Santa Claus belly. With an unshaven face and uncombed hair, he was holding a bottle in his hand, as usual.
Scratching his head he asked, “Why are you being a bitch, screaming so early in the morning? You woke me up.”
“It’s afternoon, idiot.” She pointed at me. “Your daughter touched my perfume bottles again.”
He took a sip from his bottle. “I don’t know if she touched them, but I did. I don’t think she deserved a beating.” His words were slurred, the way they always sounded. When he was sober, he didn’t sound like my dad.
I wished I could have framed the guilty look on my mom’s face. It was as if my prayers had been answered, but more importantly, my mom knew I wasn’t lying. I was waiting for her to apologize, to hold me in her arms and tell me how wrong she was. I wanted to hear her say that she loved me, and that she would never hurt me again. But those words never came.
“Don’t make up stuff, Frank,” she sneered. “Anyway, she’s probably done something bad I don’t know about. She deserved it.”
My dad shrugged and took another sip. “Maybe.” He paused, smiling at my mom with a funny look—the look I would always see before they made a lot of noise in their bedroom. They didn’t know, but I could hear them through the walls; or maybe they didn’t care. I didn’t know if they were wrestling or exercising, but from the sounds coming from their room, they seemed like they were out of breath. And then I would hear my mom scream, but a different kind of scream.
When Mom sat up tall and straightened her dress, I scurried away. I stared at my dad, waiting to see what he would do next. Dad rubbed his hand along the zipper, but didn’t zip it up.
“Donna…” He gave that funny look again.
“Josefina!” my mom hissed. “Go make Mommy a sandwich, then go to your room. Got it?”
“Yes, Mama.” I stood up, sniffling. I was happy to leave her room.
“And Josefina—” my mom called to me just as I was a step away from the door. I turned to listen. “Next time you fuckin’ touch anything of mine, you’re going to get it hard. Do you understand?”
I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand why my mom hit me when I didn’t do anything wrong—not that I should get hit like that, regardless of what I had done. I didn’t understand why she treated me like she wished I had never been born. I didn’t understand why my dad drank all the time. And I didn’t understand why my parents were the way they were.
But yet, I still answered, “Yes, Mama.”
Dad ruffled my hair like I was a pet when I walked past him, then he closed the door.
CHAPTER 1
Seth
“I’m on my way,” I said through the Bluetooth, already knowing who it was.
“You have the directions?”
“Of course I have the directions. I told you I was on my way.” I huffed a little. Elijah was like a brother to me, but sometimes he drove me nuts.
“Just checking, ‘cause last time you told me you were on your way, you lost the directions.”
He was right; the last time I left the directions at home. I had been helping my mom at the restaurant and didn’t want to drive back to get them. “I called you then,” I reminded. “I didn’t call you now. You called me. Stop being a nag and let me get to you. I’m hanging up.”
“How far are you?”
I was going to be about thirty minutes late, which was my fault because I hadn’t correctly estimated my time of arrival. “Okay—so I forgot about the traffic.”
“SETH!” I pulled back the phone. He was not happy with me. “I have to get to work soon. How far are you?”
“About twenty.” It was somewhat the truth. I hoped traffic would be on my side for the next several miles. If so, I would definitely make it.
“Okay, I can do that. Drive carefully.”
“I will, but would you relax? You’re not proposing today.”
“I am relaxed. I’m always relaxed, but not when you’re late.” Elijah was joking, but he tried not to sound like he was.
“Okay, okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can. The traffic is better now. See you soon.”
“Thanks. Bye.”
“I love you too,” I mumbled under my breath. I was just a little annoyed that in the first week I was back from Berkeley for summer vacation, my mom’s employees had quit. Not just one, but several of them, so I had to fill their shifts. I told her many times to hire more responsible people that needed a job, not just college students that left to go home during the summer.
Regardless, I was ecstatic for Elijah. He’d been through so much, but in the end, he’d finally found his happiness…Alex. He had also managed to get into grad school and get a paid internship. He was interested in the same field as Jimmy and me—financial banking. And I couldn’t believe he was going to propose to Alex. They had lived together for almost two years now in the same condo where they fell in love. Leave it to Elijah to be the romantic type. Even though he was known as the player, he knew how to treat women. I respected him for that, and for many other reasons. He also knew how to swoon them. I wasn’t very good at it though.
How fast time flew. I couldn’t believe I’d just finished the first year of my MBA at Berkeley. I had to turn down an internship with a promising business company to help my mom take care of both the restaurant and the auto shop, since my dad had passed away from a heart attack about three months ago. That was the hardest time of my life. Jimmy, Lexy, Elijah, and Alex had been there for me. I didn’t know what I would’ve done without them.
The sound of a loud horn snapped me out of my thoughts. I had to slam on my brakes hard and pray that I didn’t hit the car in front of me. Asshole! He almost made me crash into him when he cut so sharply in front of me. He freakin’ cut me off! Not having had a great day, I felt confrontational so I purposely tailgated the idiot. It was immature, but I couldn’t help the anger that coursed through me like a blazing fire. I’m not the angry type, but I was today—especially when he purposely slowed down afterward, even though he had a clear path to pick up speed.
Being blocked on both lanes, I couldn’t swerve to either side to pass the car. I was just about to change lanes when he shifted to the left. Then that bastard slowed down. This was the perfect opportunity to give him the finger. Elijah had mentioned before that God had created our middle fingers for moments like this, and I was going to use it.
When our cars were side by side, I turned my head to get a good look at the asshole—holy shit! It was a woman, and she was “take my breath away” gorgeous. My heart did a funny flip inside my chest and continued down to my stomach. And for some reason, my anger subsided. I hated to admit it, but pretty girls could do that to me.
My finger never lifted as I stared for a second, then turned back to see the
road ahead of me. Getting into an accident, while gawking at a beautiful woman, was not a good idea. When her passenger’s side window started to roll down, I turned to her again. The wind tousled her long, wavy brunette hair. Her eyes grew wide while she bit her bottom lip. Maybe she thought I was cute? Maybe she wanted to get my number? Excitedly, I rolled down mine too. Before I could wave to apologize or give her my charming smile, she gave me the bird and shouted, “ASSHOLE!”
Nice! I just got burned. I didn’t know why I was so pissed off again, besides the fact that it was her fault in the first place, but I gave her one right back. Her level of beauty diminished right away with her dirty gestures, not to mention her bad temper. At least it would be the last time I’d ever see her. I was sure of it when she once again cut in front of me and sped away.
I parked next to Elijah’s car and texted him, letting him know I was there. After I slammed the door and tucked my keys and cell inside the back pocket of my jeans, I trekked down the uneven slope. The pine-scented air whiffed through my nose. The gravel didn’t agree with the soles of my tennis shoes, causing me to almost trip a couple of times on the way down.
There wasn’t much to see except for the trees, shrubs, and fabulous scenery of the city below. A white blanket of what reminded me of cotton balls covered parts of the mountain, making it difficult to see the view that it hid. Nevertheless, it was a breathtaking sight.
“Seth.” Elijah waved, appearing from behind a tree, meeting me halfway. “You made it.” He was wearing jeans, a black T-shirt, and holding his signature leather jacket—the one he always wore when he raced. His dragon tattoo appeared below the sleeve of his shirt. He was no longer racing since he’d promised Alex, but that jacket always reminded me of those good ole days in college.
“You look surprised.” I greeted him with a slap on the back. “Have a little faith in me.”