Dominic’s eyes hold nothing but love. In his eyes I’m perfect. He holds me for a few minutes, spooning me against his chest, but after a few minutes, my large cup of coffee I inhaled for breakfast comes back to haunt me, with a pressure in my bladder.
“I hate to get up, but I have to hit the bathroom.”
He kisses my shoulder and releases me. “Fine, but brace yourself for a day in bed. We’ve got a lot of time to make up for.”
Mmm. I walk to my pile of clothes, and grab my sweater. It’s long enough to slip on for a quick sprint across the hallway, dignity intact. Something falls to the floor with a quiet slap as I slide the shirt over my head. Dominic’s license. I must have dropped it when we were getting undressed.
I bend to retrieve it, glancing at it as I straighten up.
Hang on.
Jareth Dominic Williams.
42 Karac Drive.
The address pricks my memory, which could just be because it’s Dominic’s place.
But I know the name, Jareth Williams.
Dominic/Jerry is Jareth. Under-liner of library books.
I smile and turn back to him. “Dominic? Have you read the new Coupland book yet?”
Acknowledgments
Thanks always to everyone at the Seymour Agency, particularly Nic and Risa for embracing my sense of humour and laughing with my gloriously inappropriate emails.
Thanks to Georgia and the team at Swoon for unleashing this Crazy Canuck into the world. Again!
*Chestbumps* to the people who helped make this book better: Jessa Russo, Amber Clites, Heather Griffin, Tristina Wright, Brandi Lynch, Cait Greer, Laura Hughes. I love you all.
Giant hugs to my amazing beta readers, you know who you are. <3
To my Naturals girls, Kayti, Melanie, Laura, Sierra, Genn, I love you guys more than you even know. You make every day better. I’ll see you in the Bitchy Ether, parading around in our kaftans eating butter tarts.
Thanks to the AMAZING ladies at the High River Library. You are the best co-workers, and some of the strongest women I’ve ever met, and you’re the reason why my job rarely feels like ‘work.’ <3
To the others who were there: Q, Tyler, Darcy, Keija, Mick. Wherever you are, I hope you’re warm and safe and happy.
Love to my family, Mum, Dad, and Bruce, for all their love and laughter and support, and to all 35 of my little brothers and sisters.
Love to my husband for reminding me there’s a world outside my laptop when I start to go square-eyed and scowl like a mofo.
Thanks to the bloggers, especially Angie McLain at Fangirl Book Blog, and Mandy Smith at Raw Books, for letting me take over their Facebook pages.
And finally, thanks to you – the readers. Without you, I’m just someone banging on the keyboard. (TWSS). Just Breathe is the most ME I’ve ever put into a manuscript and I hope you’ve enjoyed spending some time with Past Tamara. I appreciate you all so much for giving me a chance, and supporting me on my journey.
Tamara Mataya
Tamara Mataya is currently a librarian; she lurked there for so long recommending books to patrons and shushing people, that she suspects they only hired her so it would be less creepy. Now she’s armed with a name tag, and a thin veneer of credibility. She’s also a musician with synaesthesia – which isn't an issue until someone plays a wrong note, which makes her want to squirm inside out. It makes for a good live show.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Acknowledgements
Just Breathe Page 23