Finding Joy (The Joy Series)

by Jenni Moen

  My schedule had also lightened up. With all the new family law knowledge I’d gained, I had taken over coordinating all of the firm’s pro bono work. I would never make partner with my lightened work load, but it had allowed me to reprioritize my life. As an added bonus, I finally felt like what I was doing was making a difference.

  Things were good. Things were very, very good.

  I looked around the brightly decorated restaurant, amazed that we’d finally made it to our date, which had been eleven years in the making.

  Nothing had been easy … for either of us. Remembering Joy had just been the beginning. Forgiving myself for the mistakes of my past had been much harder. It was something that I might not ever have been able to do if Adam hadn’t shown me how.

  I still don’t know whether I agreed with Brittany that everything happens for a reason or if I agreed with Adam’s friend, Warren, that there was no rhyme or reason for any of it. A part of me wanted to believe in fate … that we were, in fact, two magnets that no one and no circumstances could keep apart. At the end of the day, did it really matter? The fact of it was, we wouldn’t let anything come between us ever again.

  “This was a good idea. It’s nice to have some time just for the two of us.”

  “I’m full of good ideas. You want to hear what I have planned for later? Come here, and I’ll give you a preview.”

  I leaned as far as I could across the table. The words he whispered in my ear caused my heart to race and other parts of me to tingle. If he was still talking to me like this in 50 years, it wouldn’t be long enough.

  -Allie

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  As it should be, the very first thank you goes to my family. They are the ones that have had to put up with the endless hours that I’ve spent in front of the computer. Thank you, Jeff, for supporting me, for brainstorming with me, for coaching me through plot holes and debilitating bouts of self doubt. Thank you, Ethan, Dylan, and Ella, for eating bag after bag of frozen chicken nuggets with no … or at least little … complaint.

  A special thank you to my parents, who taught me that I can do anything when I set my mind to it and who watch my kids every now and then to help me actually get it done.

  A completely inadequate thank you to my Sisters in Sin: Elizabeth, Lauren, and Emily. You add joy to my life every single day. If my kids have friends like you when they grow up, they will be fine no matter what life throws at them. Thank you for being my sounding board and my research team and for allowing me to make many of our private text conversations now public.

  Thank you, Beth, for taking my vision for the cover and bringing it to life … again. A full-time architect, a mother of three, a font nazi and lover of meticulous manicures … I appreciate your perfectionism like no one else.

  A sincere thank you to Jackie for once again for putting the commas where they belong, removing them when they don’t, and reminding me that ‘that’ and ‘who’ are not interchangeable.

  Thank you, J.B. for your never critical though always eagle-like eye. You are a expert typo-finder and grammatical error-corrector. However, your encouragement has meant the most to me.

  A baker’s dozen worth of thanks for each of my beta readers. Elizabeth, Emily, Lauren, Ashley, Mary Kate, Casey, Tara, Joanna, Kate, Andrea, Autumn, Nereyda, and Tawnya. Thank you for taking time out of your busy lives on a moment’s notice to read for me. Your insight and your opinions meant more to me than you’ll ever know. Every tweet, text, email, and phone call was appreciated and favorited.

  Thank you to each and every book blogger and reviewer who supported this no-name, small-town girl from Oklahoma. When I published Remembering Joy, I didn’t even know what a blog tour was. I now realize that book bloggers are invaluable. A very special thanks to Fictions My Addiction, Mostly YA Obsessed, One More Chapter, The Bookish Babe, Autumn Review, Brittany and Bianca Blab Books, Just Booked, Autumn Review, and Caffeinated Book Reviewer. The fact that that you ladies loved Remembering Joy enough to mention it, not just once, but over and over again means more to me than I can possibly express.

  Finally, thank you to the readers who took a chance on Remembering Joy and then liked it enough to come back for more. Your messages, emails, tweets, likes, and comments make my heart swell.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Jenni Moen lives in her hometown with her husband and three crazy, exuberant kids that have the potential to burn the house down at any time.

  When she’s not chauffeuring kids, performing her mom duties as a short order cook, or vacuuming for her fastidious husband, she hammers away at her keyboard at her big girl job as a patent attorney. While vodka and exercise have provided some relief from the daily grind, it is reading . . . and now writing . . . that are her true escapes.

  www.jennimoen.com

  Sneak Peek

  of

  A Blue Tale

  By

  Sarah Dosher

  Prologue

  Eli Blue

  Love fucking sucks. No really, let me repeat myself. Love. Fucking. Sucks. I’d lived my entire life believing in fairytales, believing that my Prince Charming would swoop in and rescue me. Then shitty heartbreak after shitty heartbreak knocked me down until I had no choice but to stop believing…

  Until the day I started again.

  Honestly I never thought it would happen, but all it really took was a simple spark to ignite the smoldering within me and then it flamed. Want a glimpse of that day? Want a small peek at the possibility of happily ever after before I show you the turmoil? Yea, I figured you did.

  ***

  See that beautiful woman covered from head to toe in flowing blue silk peering over the edge of the landing – that’s me, surrounded by twinkling lights and white flower sprigs that smelled bright and romantic. I hated them, hated what they represented and what I no longer had.

  I looked like a princess on the outside but felt sad and alone inside. But I was positive no one would see it because they never do. I’d been blindly navigating through life for a long time, since the day I’d lost the only person that ever truly loved me. When I was too young to understand how deeply real loss could cut into your soul. Then, like love always does, it found its way back to me in the form of a man who pulled at every inch of my body and heart.

  He’s down there, just entering through the large doors. Damn, that body hugging penguin suit fit him perfectly – flawlessly. His hair had grown longer than I remembered; the little curls that once teased along his hairline were now full ringlets. His dark whiskers had turned long and unruly. My heart ached at the sight of him, ached for what we once had – for the possibility that we lost.

  He looked up, his eyes immediately connecting with mine. I saw them brighten and almost immediately they faded darker.

  Then he looked away.

  A waiter handed me a flute of champagne, I downed it and took two more from the tray. I didn’t give a shit how inappropriate it might have looked to my colleagues that were here to celebrate my dad’s career. I needed it. Everyone in life takes what they need most, unfortunately I was just starting to understand and partake in it myself.

  There was a loud tapping on the microphone that I assumed was to signal the start of the show. Everyone that was anyone in the music industry had shown up to remember my dad’s music. He was being inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame next month but tonight was a somewhat smaller gathering, if you could call an event of this size small. Everyone that knew him or worked with him throughout his career was here. Musicians had fought for the chance to play his songs or write new music to commemorate his career. It should be a touching occasion, but I’d been dreading it for weeks and had practically been forced here against my will.

  I took my seat in the front row and waited for the rush of memories that I didn’t want - memories that I’d buried deep were about to be ripped to the surface. After the first song tears were pooling in my eyes, tears of pity for myself. I decided the only way I was going to survive
the night was to turn it off – to just shut down. It was actually starting to work too. Song after song, I smiled when I felt others watching me and I clapped when everyone else clapped. But I never heard a single note or melody – the music was lost on me. Music has the ability to reach deep into your soul, to the places you’d forgotten, where the deepest wounds reside – and I didn’t fucking want that, I wanted to be left alone.

  My entire being was numb to my surroundings until a low murmur spread through the crowd drawing my attention. The lights lowered and a single man took the stage. My eyes grew wide as I saw who it was, I knew I’d never be able to ignore the rhythm that came from within him that was simply amplified by a guitar for all to hear. Clutched in his hands was my dad’s guitar, the one I’d given him just before it all came crashing down.

  He set on a black stool directly in front of me, so close I could have reached out and plucked the strings myself. But he didn’t look at me; instead he looked over me and to the crowd before finally closing his eyes to play. His fingers slowly glided over the guitar sending the vibrations deep into my heart. It was one of my dad’s song, only he’d changed it and made it his own.

  While the world is still living

  All my passion has faded away

  My fingers on this guitar to stop from the ache

  ‘Cause she’ll never long for me

  I deceived myself

  She was gone from the instant I loved her

  My heart still calls to her

  As I try to find the power to move forward somehow

  No, I won’t ever forget us

  Her love was blue and made for another

  A fairytale I could never measure

  Full of prosperity and control

  I was meager with no rise in sight

  I deceived myself

  She was gone from the instant I loved her

  My heart still calls to her

  As I try to find the power to move forward somehow

  No, I won’t ever forget us

  Tears of loss falling down as I try to forget

  Her love was a ruse from when I first fell

  None of her love, all meant for them

  Cause of my pain when I think back to then

  I remember her smell as it filled me full

  The sound of betrayal as it spilled from her lips

  Say to myself time and time again

  I’ll never need her from now on

  I deceived myself

  She was gone from the instant I loved her

  My heart still calls to her

  As I try to find the power to move forward somehow

  No, I won’t ever forget us

  It was never meant to be

  My heart knows that now

  I’ve found the will to forget her now

  My bequest to you ‘cause I know that’s your will

  Tears were streaming down my face, tears not for myself but for this man who I’d loved and lost – tears for us. The song ended and he disappeared from the stage. Before I cleared the wet from my eyes he was standing in front of me, holding my dad’s guitar out to me. I stood and moved toward him. My fingers wrapped around the smooth maple wood of the guitar’s neck and I could feel the grooves in the frets caused by years of play.

  I had wondered if I’d ever see this man or this guitar again. I’d prayed I would but wasn’t sure my heart could handle the force of this moment. But here they were right in front of me where I could feel their presence in my soul.

  Neither of us spoke. I smiled, he frowned and then turned to walk away.

  Chapter One

  Eli Blue

  “Deacon! Deacon! Deacon!” the hoard of girls chanted as they pushed and shoved trying to get closer to the empty stage.

  The unmistakable sound of a Fender Stratocaster echoed through the small arena inciting the masses even further. The crowd was like a living, breathing entity all its own that swayed and surged with every note. As the opening guitar solo edged forward I could smell sweet excitement filling the air, unfortunately the scent was dampened by sweat and stall beer.

  “C’mon, hurry your ass up!” I shouted to my friend Willow before I started weaving through the flesh hungry mob. Willow wrapped her arms around my waist trying not to get trampled.

  After elbowing every single person in our path we finally reached the barricade a few feet from the stage. Ascending into sacred territory, we were immediately greeted by an oversized guard dog that wasn’t happy to see us. He held up his hands in a silent plea for us to stop which did nothing but make me roll my eyes. I’d never felt entitled to things in my life, however, free reign at this oversized bar was a given and the only thing I ever demanded.

  I flashed the sweetest smile I could manage and was just about to inform him who my dad was when a man dressed in a business suit gestured for the guard to let us pass. I smiled at him; he returned the gesture with a nod of his head and then immediately disappeared behind a door leading under the stage. Realization of who I was, or actually who my dad was, flooded the guard’s face. His eyes grew wide and reverence appeared – with maybe a touch of pity.

  “That never gets old.” Willow yelled in my ear over the screams and hollers for the concert to begin.

  “What?” I shouted back.

  “When they finally realize you’re someone important and retreat.” She laughed.

  I shook my head. “But I’m not.” I informed her.

  “Yes you are Elizabeth, and it won’t be long till I’m someone special too.” She said with a wink.

  I rolled my eyes at her before turning my attention back to the stage just as a single light began to rise. The guitar solo slowly faded and was followed by the pounding of a kick drum. Boom, boom, boom. I could feel my heart mirror the slow methodical beat. Boom, boom, boom.

  Anticipation built within me causing heat to cover my body and sweat to roll down the middle of my back. Music always had a way of exciting me. I’d grown up with it - I’d never known anything different. Even when I’d been shielded from its harsh glare a constant rhythm still flowed through my veins.

  A shadowy figure appeared at the center microphone directly in front of us.

  “Oh shit there he is, there he is!” Willow screamed and jumped up and down.

  I immediately burst into laughter. I’d never seen her act like this before.

  “Damn girl calm down, he’s just some lead singer. We’ve definitely met our fair share before.” I placed my hands on her shoulders trying to force her to calm down.

  She pointed toward the stage, “Duke’s different, dear Lord is he different. Just wait till you hear him sing and you’ll be ready to rip his clothes off too.”

  “Fuck me Duke!” echoed from behind me. I turned to see a leggy blonde with the brightest red lips I’d ever seen flashing her tits at the stage.

  I’d never understand how any woman thought that would help her chances at snagging a man. Sleazy desperation was never attractive on anyone; no matter how much lipstick you tried to cover it with.

  A low, sexy growl came through the sound system drawing my attention. Standing center stage was a towering man wearing nothing but black leather pants. His long blonde hair hung down his back and teased the crowd by lightly shielding his muscles that appeared to bulge in all the right places.

  “That’s him, that’s him.” Willow shouted and dug her nails into my upper arm.

  I shrugged my shoulders, “Yea, he looks good but I need to hear him first.”

  “He plays guitar too, don’t worry I wouldn’t drag you here for a singer that didn’t play too.”

  I smiled at my best friend because she knew me well. Although I tried hard not to pass judgment on him before I actually heard him sing, his cliché appearance was definitely a strike against him. He was too flashy for what I wanted. I wanted old-fashioned musicians that played for the love of their craft. Not someone that was just in it for the fame, money, and women.

  Willow dragge
d me here tonight in hopes that I’d sign her favorite new band to my dad’s management company. Technically it was my management company now even though I refused to call it that. Savage Man had become mine four years ago on my eighteenth birthday. Before that my mother almost ran it into the ground from the day her guardianship over me granted her the right. Luckily others within the company were able to stop her pursuit at destruction.

  My dad hadn’t been a part of my life since all that glitz and glam took him from me when I was barely thirteen years old. Not nearly old enough to know what he’d want from me now as the leader of his brainchild.

  Willow’s band, The Elle’s, was the first band that I signed when I officially started working there full time last month after I graduated college. An all girl rock band, no one could go wrong with the way these girls looked and their amount of talent. Simply, they kicked ass. The only problem was the estrogen-induced drama that occurred on a daily basis. But Willow had been the only constant in my life and I’d do anything to help her achieve her dreams.

  “Hey are you even listening to him?” Willow whined.

  “I’m listening,” I snapped.

  I was definitely listening and his voice was impressive. Clear and smooth, just like she’d said it was.

  The bridge of the song played and the lead guitar picked up sending chills dancing across my skin. I moved to my left and on to my tiptoes trying to peer over the tall stage but couldn’t see the guitar player. His half of the stage was too dark, the only beam of light shining was focused on Duke who was busy grinding his hips in the direction of ever female he could find.

  “Deacon Chastain.” Willow shouted with a huge smile. “That’s who you’re looking for over there. He doesn’t come out of the shadows very often. Apparently he likes to sulk back there and be all broody.”