Our Demons, Best Friends (Half of Me #1)
Ava and Sebastian are two medical residents who in a perfect world, would really like each other. But both of them are closely watched by their demons. Their baggage is not light – Ava has hers carefully folded in vacuum bags to occupy as little room as possible; Sebastian wears his like a lead armor that makes him slouch sometimes. They like each other, but how are their demons going to get along?
OUR DEMONS, BEST FRIENDS EXCERPT
“Monday morning I woke up to find Miles in the kitchen making pancakes and bacon, with the proudest look on his face. I smiled. This boy keeps surprising me.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said when he saw me next to the undersized kitchen island. “This is not going to happen every day, so don’t get your hopes up. I’m doing it because today’s special and I wanted to say thanks for letting a guy live with you, I guess.”
“If you say so,” I said as I took a strip of bacon and began chewing on it. Man, the guy can cook. I was still smiling at his innocence. If he thinks he can spoil three girls with limited cooking skills only once and then give up . . . he clearly doesn’t have sisters.
“I won’t!” he insisted after deciphering the thought behind my smile.
“OK. . . ,” I said, grinning while still chewing on the bacon. This time, he didn’t fight me; he just rolled his eyes.
“Oh, my God, Miles! You’re cooking!”
Emily’s voice is really high in the morning. Is that normal?
“I, mmm, love, mmm, you!” She was trying to express gratitude with a mouthful of bacon.
Miles loved the attention, of course. While I was looking at him with my eyebrows slightly elevated, as if to say, You will not only do this again, but you’ll do it because you want to!, he caught my look and with an elevated voice, barely keeping a straight face, he said, “I won’t!”
“OK, calm down, master chef!”
“Paige, come out of your den and see what Miles did!” Em yelled in the direction of Paige’s room. She clearly didn’t have the concept of a quiet morning.
“Is that what I smell?” Paige had her head in the living room in a second. She was wearing pink bunny PJs. Her choice of outfit was actually the only thing that made sense this morning.
“I thought the neighbors were cooking. I was dreaming about knocking on their door and asking to move in.”
She’s funny in the morning. Probably didn’t have the time to go inside her fortress yet.
“This is so nice of you!” Emily turned towards a working Miles. “To offer to cook for the girls who cannot fend for themselves.”
As Miles was slowly turning her way, probably ready to explain how this was a “one-time thing,” I started fake-coughing to hide my laughter. Emily and Paige were both eyeing me, so I had to explain my reaction.
“He’s under the impression this is going to be a one-time thing,” I said.
They both started laughing hysterically and gave poor Miles a kiss on the cheek. He liked the attention, so I didn’t feel too bad for him.”
Love Me While I’m Gone (Half of Me #2)
For a very long time, my biggest accomplishments had nothing to do with what I really wanted. When I decided to give up my mother’s dream and fight for my own, I never imagined choosing one dream could put me on the path of the one I never knew I wanted – meeting him. Collin. He quickly went from a friend to a companion, to soul mate, to heartbreak.
After he left Chicago, leaving me with nothing more than a text message, I only had one sane choice – to act like he never existed and go on with my life. A ghost can’t break your heart.
But now he’s back and he’s prepared to prove me otherwise. Is it possible to love someone against your will?
LOVE ME WHILE I’M GONE EXCERPT
Today the floor was pulled from under my feet. The grip gravity had on me made me feel like the fall would never end. My body ached from the sudden use of all my muscles at once and my breathing was coming in fast, shallow breaths. I probably should mention the floor I’m talking about is a metaphorical one and the reason my body was reacting the way it did, was a guy. A guy I never thought I’d see again but was somehow staring right at me, his eyes as wide as mine.
The only one in the elevator was him. Collin. I would say my Collin, but I don’t think he actually ever belonged to me. Not even when the only thing separating us was our breaths combined. No, don’t go there! The way my eyes protested when I tried to blink again made me realize I was staring at him, unblinking, like a creep. For a really long time. Long enough for the elevator to start closing its doors again with me still outside, on the hallway of the hospital I just started working in as an intern. My first day. My first hours, in fact. My first elevator ride. And he’s here. In scrubs. Shit!
I can’t believe I’m in my third year of residency already. The fact that I should actually be in my fourth and final year it’s even more mind-blowing. I can’t bring myself to regret missing that year, not even now. I know it was the right thing to do and I’d probably do it all over again, although I would change one major thing about it. I would give anything to go back in time and find her. Explain. Ask her to wait for me. I still think about having her in my arms. Not one goddamn day passes that I don’t wish for it.
The elevator doors close behind me as soon as I step inside and I take another deep breath. I need it every time I think about her. My Em. Every day I enter this hospital decided to ask Em’s sister, Lana, about her and every day I decide against it all over again. It would kill me to hear she has someone. Or worse, if she’s engaged or something. What idiot could have her and let her go? I can only think of one…
Chicken shit as I feel, at least I’m happy in my ignorance. Almost. Not really. Ok, I feel like crap! I’ve been back for more than a year and although I see Lana a few times a week and sometimes even have lunch together, she never once mentioned her sister. Maybe she finally went to Europe, the way she always said she would. It kills me not to know, but it could just the same kill me to find out.
The first pager ping of the year makes me jump. But only internally. I’m a guy, after all. We don’t get skittish. I take it out of its pocket and check what the emergency is just as the elevator doors open one more time before dropping me off one floor below. Nobody comes in so I lift my head to see if I can push the button that closes the doors again. My heart stops in my chest only to start again in the next second, beating like a maniac. I wonder if that’s how it feels like before having a heart attack.
Emily’s pupils are suddenly so big, they don’t allow me to see the beautiful deep brown of her eyes. I know the color is there, but I would’ve liked seeing it. I’ve missed it. I’ve missed her. So much, my chest aches at the sight of her so close to me. Her mouth opens and closes, but she doesn’t say anything. I think I’m just as shocked as she is because the doors close and I still can’t zap some sense into my brain. I never expected to see her again. Not in this hospital. Not in scrubs. She works here and by the look on her face, she must hate me. She should. I’m a fucking douchebag.
Color Me Yours (Half of Me #3)
What happens if you wake up one morning and you don’t recognize the person staring back at you in the mirror? When you throw yourself into a relationship so deeply, it swallows you whole and spits you out a totally different person? A person you don’t particularly like… For Paige, it takes ten minutes to decide she needs to go back to Chicago, the first place she ever called home and the last she felt like herself in. The place where she’ll find a purpose and friends she never knew she needed.
But what if her best friend starts to see her before she sees herself? Can she trust him to search between scattered pieces and handpick the ones that belong only to her?
COLOR ME YOURS EXCERPT
We find the college and the floor we’re supposed to be on just in time. When we get to the second floor, there are six more people waiting outside the classroom, everyone talking in pairs. The teacher opens the door and motions for everyone to come inside.
“Please, take a seat wherever you like,” she says, then goes to the front of the medium-sized room. The place looks like a normal classroom, except the desks are individual, taller and made out of wood, and there is no desk for the teacher. On either side of the room are sculptures, all in different stages of the process. I want to look at them closer, but everyone is already in their seats. Miles silently asks me where should we sit and I choose one desk closer to the windows. He follows me and takes the one next to mine. They’re close enough that we could talk if needed. Or allowed.
“Hello, everyone, and welcome to Introduction to Sculpting!” the teacher begins. “My name is Alexandra, but you can call me Lexi. I’ll be your teacher for the next couple of hours.” Now that I’m here, I’m actually really excited. I’ve always wanted to try something like this. Art, in general, has always interested me.
I turn to Miles and beam at him. He chuckles silently and turns around to pay attention to the teacher speaking.
“Since this is your very first class, we should begin with a small introduction of the objects you all have in front of you.”
I look at the things on my desk and see a big plastic container full of clay and a few instruments by its side. Lexi tells us all about the different types of clay and why she chose this particular oil-based one for our first session, and then she proceeds to explain what the instruments are called and when should we use them. I find it all so extremely interesting, I barely acknowledge the presence of anybody else around me. Except Miles. I steal glances his way whenever I hear something particularly fascinating, trying to gauge his reaction to it all. Is he enjoying this as much as I am?
“Now that you have the basic info, we should get started with the fun part,” Lexi says. She makes us take a blob of clay the size of our fists from the plastic container in front of us and knead it until it’s soft and malleable. Meanwhile, she speaks.
“Let’s talk about the human anatomy for a bit,” she begins.
“Now this part we should be good at,” Miles leans towards me and says, making me laugh.
“We do have an advantage here,” I agree, nodding.
“When I say ‘nose’ or ‘ear,’” Lexi continues, “everyone has an image popping into their heads. There isn’t any doubt we’re all thinking about the same thing, right? But how much attention do we actually pay to these small body parts? Enough to know every detail, every crease? Enough to be able to sculpt it?”
Miles and I, as confident as we were a second ago, look at each other wide-eyed.
“Let’s see. How about we all try to sculpt a nose?” Lexi asks. “I’ll work right by your side.” She takes a seat at one of the desks and starts molding some clay.
“Hmm.” Miles turns my way. “Whose nose should I make?”
Everyone has started whispering and giggling while trying to sculpt noses, so I don’t feel the need to remain silent, either.
“Your own, probably,” I tell him.
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” He gets up from his desk and moves it a few inches closer to mine. Now our elbows are touching. He puts an elbow on his workspace, his head resting on his hand, and stares at me for a good couple of minutes. I try my best to ignore him and mold the clay in front of me in the shape required, but it’s practically impossible with him staring at me like that.
“Stop staring at my nose!” I whisper-shout, making him laugh. “I can’t focus!”
“No, no,” Lexi says, making us both look her way. We didn’t even hear her approaching us. “That’s good. Look at each other; observe the size, the details.”
“See?” Miles says. “The teacher says I can stare at you for as long as I want.” He smirks at me and moves even closer.
This class is doomed to fail, I think to myself.
Book Depository – http://www.bookdepository.com/author/Diana-T-Scott
Writer of Our Demons, Best Friends, Love Me While I’m Gone and Color Me Yours. Perpetually sleep deprived, but never sorry. I am a colorful mix of the things I love. Chocolate eclairs. The sound of a guitar. The first snow of the year. Sleeping on freshly washed sheets. The smell of a new book. Man buns. Using rock-paper-scissors to settle an argument. Old, washed up jeans. Comfort food. Old people acting like kids. The ocean. My dog. My family.
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