She looks a little alarmed and a lot excited. "My purse."
I tug on a robe and grab the letters from her purse—Duke, Rutgers, and North Carolina. Her top choices. And she waited for me.
I kiss her on the porch, and she fidgets nervously as I open them. "You know, whatever they say, we'll make this work, don't you?" I say, looking at her.
A smile, bright and full of all the emotions, tells me everything I need to know. So I open the letters. Grin at her. And read out our future.
Acknowledgements:
As always, there is a host of people to thank--people who have helped make This Love a reality. God, for blessing me every day more than I can even believe.
My beta readers: JC, Mel, Renee. You ladies rocked and helped me figure out what was wrong and made me believe someone might actually like Atticus.
My cheerleaders Katie, Becca and Lindsay. This isn’t anything like college was for us, but you guys totally made college a blast. Love y’all!
To Mel who did the gorgeous cover and put up with my 'a little to the left? What's in his pants?' comments. I absolutely love the cover and the UB emblem. You are so freaking awesome.
Rachel, editor extraordinaire, you made me actually sound halfway intelligent. Major props. Also? I don’t think I’ll ever forget the comments about bile. Thanks. My publicist, Kelly Simmon—thank you for teaching me and for working with me and for being such a supporter of me and my books.
All the bloggers and NA authors and friends on twitter (especially the Indie Ignites): y'all's support has been so amazing and just....awesome. I have no words. I am WORDLESS!!! *hugs and chocolate for everyone.*
Rachel O’Laughlin for the paperback formatting! She took a very intimidating process off my hands and I pretty much adore her for it.
My awesome critique partners. Brianna with her killer edits and unfailing enthusiasm and gifs of Ian when I'm having a bad day. And Chanteé who, as always, goes above and beyond. She keeps the website running, the formatting pretty and the crazy author from going off the deep end. (Pretty much, she amazing.) She also didn't complain when I told her I was writing a light happy romance. Big brownie points.
My family--Mom, who I'm pretty sure will be scarred by the smexy in this book. In-laws, Kathy and Lester, who feed my family, bankroll my dreams and push me to do the things that scare me. Hailey and Tim, for watching my kids and believing in me and making me laugh with late night inappropriate conversations.
And last, but never least--Mike and the girls. Y'all are always there, believing and hoping I might make a real meal. I love you all so much. And I *am* cooking tonight.
About the Author
Nazarea Andrews is an avid reader and tends to write the stories she wants to read. She loves chocolate and coffee almost as much as she loves books, but not quite as much as she loves her kids. She lives in south Georgia with her husband, daughters, and overgrown dog.
You can follow her on Facebook and Twitter.
Nazarea N. Andrews Official Website
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Nazarea N. Andrews...
Beautiful Broken
A University of Branton Novel
coming Fall 2013
Chapter 1. October.
Dane
She gets out today. I'm not sure how I should feel about it. My threat--which I meant--forced her into there. It’s been almost three months. I scrub a hand over my hair and curse.
Rehab has never worked for Scout. She rebels at being told what to do--probably why she got involved in drugs to begin with.
Okay, that's bullshit. I know exactly why she got involved in drugs. It doesn't make it easier to accept.
My phone rings and I fish it from my pocket. Atticus. "What's up, dude. Bears eat you yet?"
"I'm in Branton, you idiot." He grumbles. "Do you have her?"
"No. Pickup is in ten minutes. Quit worrying--I'll handle the kid."
He laughs, "Last time you tried to handle my sister, she handed you your balls on a platter."
"And yet," I say, lazily, "I'm here and you’re hiding in Branton."
He laughs again, like he's supposed to. Because one thing I've never told him is about that night, so many years ago.
There's noise from the building and I glance up--it looks like they’re bringing out the patients. "Gotta go, Atti. I'll call when we're on the road."
The doors swing open and she strolls out.
It's like seeing a ghost. This isn't the Scout I've known for the past six years. The skinny, angry, strung out mess that has shown up on my doorstep time and time again--she's missing.
And that scares the shit out of me.
She sees me and waves, then turns and hugs the guy next to her--something that pisses me off for reasons I don't really want to think about. Takes the bag he's holding and descends the steps to stand in front of me.
"Why are you here instead of Atti?"
No ‘hi. How are you. Thanks for coming to get me, and for dealing with my shit for the past six years and oh, by the way, it's not your fault.’
I shove the thoughts down and straighten. "He was busy. I can let you wait for him, if it's important to you, though."
She snorts, "Asshat."
I give her a quick look and take her bag, tossing it in the back of the Viper and stalking around to my side. "Come on. I want to get back home before it gets too late."
Scout.
It shouldn't surprise me that Dane is here. But it does--I wanted Atticus to pick me up. I wanted a little time before facing Dane.
Not that time will do anything. It hasn't ever done anything.
"Seat belt."
"Really? Cuz I'm not fourteen anymore, you know."
"I'm an accident lawyer, Scout. Put on the fucking seat belt."
I roll my eyes, but I do what I'm told. If I don't, we'll sit in this bloody parking lot all night, and I've had quite enough of New Horizons for, like, ever.
As Dane pulls out of the driveway and we leave it behind, I release the breath I'm holding, tension slipping from me. I didn't really think the relief would be this acute. But it is--getting away from there is almost as much of a high as coke had been.
My fingers go to my wrist, snapping the rubber band there. Aversion therapy. It's supposed to help with the cravings. Sometimes it does. Not often, but sometimes.
Chasing the Wind
After of the Falls Book 2
coming December 2013
Chapter 1.
I can remember three times I should have died. Three times, I stood on that precipice and was snatched back from it. Three times, before Berg took me as his ward and gave me Citizenship.
Never, not in all my years Outside living in the Manor, not in the many times I should have died, and not in the decade I’ve lived as a Citizen, have I ever been this frightened.
The wind slips around me and I hear the uneven crush of footsteps. Without turning, I track his movements around our meager camp.
“Kaida.” He approaches, and I reach up, taking the coffee he’s carrying. “We have to pack up.”
Cedric stops without touching me. Close enough that I can feel the heat of his body and his tension, but too far away to feel.
For a heartbeat, I almost ask him to hold me.
“He’s running out of time.”
I swallow hard, and stand. “Did you look at the maptable?”
He gives me an impatient look and I clench my jaw to keep from snapping at him. Take a deep breath and swallow the rest of my coffee. It’s thick and grainy on my tongue, and I make a face. “Show me.”
He pulls the maptable out and steps close again.
“Berg said they follow the same paths. If he’s right, we should hit their campgrounds in the next day or so.” Cedric says. His long fingers trace the path on the maptable. I glance around again—the graylight is taking hold, pushing the ever present darkness bac
k. I stand, brushing my pants off. “Let’s get going, then.”
He nods, slipping the maptable into the water proof bag. I pack up our clothing from the night before as Cedric starts collapsing our tiny tent.
“How much more food do we have?” I ask.
“Two days. And what he gave us to trade.” Cedric’s gray eyes flick to mine. “We should just use the pills today. Save the food.”
I nod, even though hunger is gnawing at my belly already. The pills don’t take away hunger pains.
Cedric stumbles a little as he swings the pack onto his shoulder, and I’m at his side instantly, shoving my shoulder under his. His weight is familiar, the heat of his body against mine almost scorching.
“I’m fine, Kai,” he snaps, pulling away.
“Why are you doing that?”
It’s the question that’s been circling my head for three days. Since we were tossed out of Berg’s hover, and Guin wasn’t. Three days. Fifty seven until…I shake my head violently, and stare at Cedric. “He wouldn’t want you to treat me like this. He’ll be furious.”
“When we have him back, he’s allowed to be,” Cedric says, so softly I almost don’t hear the words. “Come on. We’re wasting time.”
“We’re going to get him back, Cedric.”
His shoulders slump, and I fight the urge to cry. Damn them. How did they know that taking Guin was the fastest way to break Cedric? To break us both?
I stand in front of him, take his face in my hands, and force him to look at me. “We will. We’ve been beating the odds for sixteen years. We’ll get him back—we just have to give the Commission what they want.”
He takes a deep breath and nods, but I can see the doubts in his eyes. The questions. Can we really find the Hidden City? In fifty seven days, can we find what the Commission hasn’t been able to find in almost eight years of searching?
I shiver and Cedric takes my hand. My left hand hangs empty and tingles—the ghost of a touch of the boy who should be with us.
We have to find the City. Guin’s life depends on it.
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