by Shealy James
“How do I fix it? I want you and only you. I need you and only you. I will do whatever it takes to fix what I have done to you. I’m not perfect, but I’m in a good place and ready to be the man for you, the man you deserve.”
She bit her lip while she thought for a moment. I worried that she wasn’t going to give in to me. I was prepared to grovel if I had to. I wasn’t kidding when I said I would do whatever it took to get her back, to get her forever. I was preparing to say more when she smiled, and I swore her face lit up with all the brightness of the sun.
“I did deserve more than getting thrown away, and I think it’s about time you pay up, Sergeant.”
I let out a relieved breath, wrapped my arms tightly around her, and lifted her from the ground bringing our lips closer together. “Gladly. I love you, Miss Grant.”
“I love you, too. Now kiss me before I change my mind.”
I wasn’t about to let that happen, so I quickly took her lips and left her with a promise she would never forget. She pulled away before things could get out of hand. We were in her parents’ kitchen, after all, and they were supposedly listening. She unhooked her legs from my waist and I held her as she slid down my body and once again stood on her own. “One last thing,” she whispered.
“What?”
“Do you trust me?’
“Yes…”
She grinned wickedly as she held my hand and pulled open the back door. “Mama,” she yelled out with a small giggle. “Call the family. Tell ‘em they can find me in Manhattan.” I swore I heard the clicking sound of a shotgun just before she took off running dragging me along with her.
The End
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder is a mental health condition that occurs after experiencing a trauma such as combat, assault, or disaster. It is characterized by stress reactions that do not go away after the trauma and disrupt daily life.
The U.S. Department of Veteran’s Affairs and the National Center for PTSD are dedicated to the research and education of trauma and PTSD.
For more information visit: http://www.ptsd.va.gov
Acknowledgements
If I didn’t have an editor, I would write in two tenses and use homophones in the wrong context. That doesn’t even include all the common splices and everything else I usually miss. This is why I love Jenny Sims from Editing 4 Indies. She saves me from writing faux pas that I shouldn’t still be making.
My creative outlet would be limited to games with a nine month old could if it weren’t for my husband who hangs out with our baby and lets me cry whenever I get too overwhelmed. He buys me milkshakes, too. Hooray for husbands.
This novel came a long way since I first sent it to Betas. Thank you Kristen Luciani and Ryan Ringbloom for helping me turn the jumbled mess into the story I wanted to tell.
Self-marketing is out of my realm of expertise, so I am grateful to Debra with The Book Enthusiast Promotions. Thank you for the pre-release event, blog tour, advice, answering every ridiculous question, and putting up with my general lack of knowledge of all things PR. You are truly amazing!
Readers keep me in business and bloggers save my sanity. Thank you to everyone who reads my books, so I can afford to read others. Your thoughts, comments, and questions are always welcome and appreciated. If you enjoyed this book, please share it with your friends and consider leaving a review.
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About the Author
Shealy James is Georgia native who teaches middle school math during the day and disappears into fiction at night. She is an avid reader and a first time author who hopes to one day write full time and leave the world of middle school angst behind.
Connect with Shealy
www.shealyjamesbooks.com
https://twitter.com/ShealyJames
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[email protected]
A sneak peek of Whole Life Makeover
Prologue
See that girl? The blond beauty in the champagne Oscar de la Renta gown laughing at yet another lame money joke? Yours truly—the one and only Kitty Peters. Cue the dramatic eye roll at the dumb nickname.
You know that leggy blonde you hated because your boyfriend kept trying to ogle her without you noticing. Yeah? That girl was me, except take away the double Ds you might be imagining. Think Princess Charlene of Monaco without the curvy figure and the bald husband. Oh, and the whole royalty thing. Yeah, this girl? Rich. Not royalty.
This was my life. Surprisingly, there was a name for it. People called me a socialite because what else would you call it? I flitted from charity function to business dinner, making appearances on my parents’ behalf, because it was good for business. It was good for the family. I kept up with the gossip. I knew who’d been in bed with whom. I paid attention to who exchanged money, and more importantly, who was trading information. From the time I was old enough to speak, I have been in training to be some wealthy man’s eye candy and secret weapon in business. The good woman behind the man, so to speak.
The sad part? Because of who my father was, men wanted to climb in bed with me. My father made it no secret that he would leave his multi-million dollar company to a man, preferably one in the family. That meant that every money-hungry man who had come across my father had been a potential suitor, and they all wanted a piece of me. Well, everyone except for one man—the man I was supposed to marry. Our mothers had been planning our wedding since I was in diapers. I should be disappointed that he didn’t want me. Maybe I should be hurt. The only problem…I have no interest in this life.