“Ha ha.”
“Actually, I had something else in mind. Turn right there.” I pointed to the dealership at the end of the street.
“Here?” She looked doubtful as she pulled into the lot. She took in the peeling paint and the eager look on the face of the lonely salesman waiting in the parking lot. “Are you sure?”
“Yep.”
“You can go pretty much anywhere and you want to go here?”
“Yep. Actually, I’ve already called ahead.” I smiled and wiggled my eyebrows mischievously.
She sighed. “Man, you are such a nerd.”
I laughed. “Yeah, yeah.”
We walked toward the building on the lot and a guy with blond hair and a suit size too large walked toward us.
“You guys need something?” he asked.
“Uh, yeah. We’re looking for Kele,” I responded. The guy looked us over.
“Are you waiting on your parents?” he asked.
“Nope,” I responded. “Just looking for Kele.”
Disappointed, he turned around and yelled in the door of the building. A small mousy man with big glasses walked out. He wore a blue checkered shirt that was badly in need of an iron. Or at least a throw in the dryer.
“Hi, Tristen?” Kele reached out his hand toward me.
I nodded and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too. I’m glad your lawyer called ahead, we’ve had to hold it for you. Come on back, they just finished getting it ready for you.” He pushed his glasses up on his nose and walked back into the building.
He led us through the building and into the garage. There, still on the mechanic's lift, was a shiny blue 1968 convertible Ford Mustang.
“I get it now,” Isolda gushed. “Tristen, I’ve never seen you smile so big.”
I tried to push the corners of my mouth down, but couldn’t.
“I spoke with Gary,” Kele said. “We’ve got everything from him that we needed and just need the check from you.”
“Gary?” I asked.
“Your lawyer?”
“Oh yeah, right.” The lawyer whose office looked like a shrink’s office. The lawyer who I didn’t even know we had before my dad slipped into a coma and left all the responsibility of our estate on my shoulders. An estate that, again, I didn’t even know we had.
His first name is Gary? That sounds so… normal.
“Now, the engine works perfectly but the aesthetics still need some work,” Kele continued, “so it’s not completely restored. That’s why you’re getting it for such a good price.”
I nodded and waited for him to lower it off the ramp. There were some scratches in the paint that still showed through the shiny wax, but they could probably be easily buffed out. I looked inside. The car smelled stuffy. There were rips in the vinyl and there was no radio. It still needed floor mats.
It was perfect.
I looked at Isolda, who had stuck her head through the passenger window. “I like it,” she said.
Kele pushed a mound of paperwork and empty snack-sized chip bags to the side of the desk and pulled out the bill of sale. After signing it, Kele stood up. “There’s one more thing we need to take care of.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yes. Follow me, please.” He got up and walked toward the garage again.
Isolda looked at me questioningly. I shrugged and we began to trail behind him. All I could think about was getting my hands on the steering wheel of my new car. When we reached the garage, he was standing by a motorcycle. He reached out and handed me a key.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“A 2006 Suzuki Boulevard. I hope this one is okay? I was able to find one faster than expected.”
“It’s nice, but why are you showing it to me?” I asked.
He frowned. “It’s yours.”
“What? I only got the Mustang.”
“Gary told me to find one for you. You didn’t know about it? He said it’s the same one your dad had when he met your mom. Except a newer model, of course. Gary’s arranged for someone to take it to your house.”
“What?”
“He didn’t tell you? He said that your dad was looking for one for you. I thought you knew.”
My stomach felt empty and my hands shook as the impact of his words hit me. I… I didn’t know what to say.
No wonder my dad insisted I get my motorcycle license.
Isolda squeezed my hand. “It’s so beautiful. I love it. Your dad’s so awesome,” she said.
I nodded. “He is.”
“Is it okay? I assure you it’s in great condition and runs smoothly,” Kele said. I looked it over.
“I like it,” I responded.
He smiled. “Great. Unless you want to drive this home, someone will come by to take it home. A second key comes with it.”
“What about the price? Has it been paid for?”
“Gary paid for it. He said it was a gift from him.”
“Wow,” mouthed Isolda. She looked over the bike. “I need to meet this Gary guy. Is he single?”
“Uh, no. Definitely not. At least, I’m certainly not going to find out for you.”
“He sounds like a catch,” she said and grinned. I rolled my eyes and we began walking toward her car. My stomach turned with excitement and my fingers itched to get my hands on the Mustang steering wheel. When we got to her car, I turned to shake hands with Kele. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a blond man staring at me fiercely from the end of the parking lot. I turned toward him and gasped. It was the man who stabbed me…
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Why I started writing this book:
This book series began as a conversation with my hubby, after watching the tv show Heroes. We asked ourselves what we would pick if we could have any power. I said that I would love to travel through books. I love travel of any kind, and traveling through the world and history would be the coolest experience for me. My husband liked this idea and said I should write a book about it.
And so, I wrote one page and then forgot about it. Eventually my husband read the page and encouraged me to keep writing. So, you see, it’s all his fault that this book has come to fruition. If you don’t like it, then you can blame him. If you do like it, then it was all me. Okay, not really.
About Me:
I like to travel, hike, read, paint, be healthy and read boring economic reports. I am the wife to an uber-cool and sexy husband and a mom to two awesome children.
I practice positive inevitability and believe passionately in following your dreams. Even if you don't accomplish everything you want, you can still enjoy the journey.
Want more?
My website is FleurCamacho.com, I have an ‘about me’ section, a blog and a ‘contact me’ page. I will try to update it to provide new and more information about what’s going on with me. I will also be updating my website to reflect the release dates of my next books, which I hope will include at least 4 more in this series.
I
’m also shamelessly frequent on twitter @fleurcamacho
My goodreads profile is goodreads.com/FleurCamacho
Thanks and Acknowledgment
Just like every writer, my book was not completed by me alone. I have the most amazing Alpha and Beta Readers in the world. You have not only encouraged me, but brought my writing to a higher plane.
Thanks to:
Camille, Tara, Marci, Julie, Cathy, Sadie, Jasmyn & Melanie T. Without you, my book would be scrap for a fire! Melanie B - your suggestion for my book was exactly what I needed. Thank you!!
Thanks to my editor, Glen Krisch. You corrected my grammar and cut out all my wordiness. Any mistakes made in this book (which I’m sure I didn’t catch them all) are mine and mine alone. If you want him to edit your book or read his amazing novels, you can find him at: glenkrisch.wordpress.com
Ahh, the cover art. I want to give a huge thanks to Tanya von Ness, who put up with my pickiness. She did a beautiful job and has the patience of a saint. I am so grateful for that! She has amazing talent! If you’re interested in her services, you can find her at fictionbookcover.com.
I would also like to give thanks to the people who work at Thesaurus.com. Without you, this book would basically be the same words repeated over and over.
RESEARCH
My research is primarily drawn and quoted from of ‘Personal Recollections Of Joan of Arc, volume I’ by Mark Twain. I have quoted from this work through Fair Use. If you would like to read more about the life of Joan of Arc, I would encourage you to read this book because even though it says, by Mark Twain (not sure why), it was actually written by Sieur Louis de Cone, a childhood friend who knew her intimately and traveled with her throughout her battles. You can find this book, for free, online.
*Twain, Mark (2004-09-15). Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc — Volume 2 (p. 4). Public Domain Books. Kindle Edition.
This book was translated from French to English by Jean Francois Alden.
And the quote about Joan of Arc:
“When we reflect that her century was the brutalest, the wickedest, the rottenest in history since the darkest ages, we are lost in wonder at the miracle of such a product from such a soil. The contrast between her and her century is the contrast between day and night.”
Is from: Twain, Mark (2011-03-30). Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc — Volume 1 (Kindle Locations 51-53). . Kindle Edition.
The Last Seeker: Book 1: a teen & YA magical, fantasy, paranormal, & adventure novel (TRISTEN) Page 25