Epiphany

by Ashley Suzanne

  And to think … all of this started on one sunny August afternoon, when I fell in love for the first time.

  At one of the tables, probably a sorority freshman pledge table, I saw the most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my life. She was tall, but not too tall. Long, dark, curly hair that cascaded down her back. She was with another girl, a redhead with a nice ass, but even that nice ass didn’t stop me from looking at the brunette.

  She was laughing at something her friend said. She threw her head back, making the ends of her hair damn near touch her ass, which was just as nice as her friend’s, might I add. She was smiling when she turned toward me. God that smile was breathtaking. She looked so carefree and happy. Our eyes connected. They were a deep green, maybe emerald. They were staring back at me when she smiled.

  I knew I had to go and talk to her.

  It may have been rocky, and we might have spent four years without each other, but

  everything worked out the way it was supposed to. If over the last decade I’ve learned

  one thing, it’s this: accidents don’t happen—everything happens when destiny decides

  to throw it at you. You have to be the one to decide if you’re going to swing for

  a homerun or a go for bunt. Me … I most certainly hit a grand slam.

  One dream can change your entire life.

  THE END

  “I was destined to love you, and I will belong to you forever” – Colleen Houck

  Wow … It’s over. Mira, Skylar, Danny and Kylee have finally stopped talking to me. This series has been a blast to write and I’m so happy you have taken the time to listen to the things I had to say. With the end of The Destined Series and Epiphany I’m a little sad. It’s like my baby’s all grown up and is going off to college. It’s a bittersweet finish to something I started a little less than a year ago. As happy as I am to move onto another story, more characters and new mind f*cks, it’s sad to see these guys go.

  I’d like to quickly thank just a few more people who helped inspire me throughout this process:

  Jesse and Lyndsey – for letting me, hopefully, help you heal.

  The Hooliganz – thanks for the loan guys! I hope I did you proud

  Rest In Paradise – my muses for this series of novels – Danny “Danny Boy” Tomes, Skylar, Teresa “TT” Clark, and Doug “D-Fresh” Harper.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  To My Fantastic Readers – With the Destined Series coming to a close, I want to thank

  you all from the bottom of my heart. You’ve made my wildest dreams come true. Each

  time you picked up my book, posted a review, sent me a message/email, or shared my

  books with a friend you were encouraging me to keep going … keep giving you more.

  I hope that I’ve done this story justice and you’re all happy with the way things

  have ended for Skylar, Mira, Danny and Kylee. These four are so close to my heart

  and will always be my first “children”. Thank you for loving and cherishing them

  the way that I do. Thank you for opening your eyes and your hearts for four fictional

  characters, that without your love and support, would only have voices in my head.

  To My Husband – It’s been a wicked, crazy ride love. I did it. Not only did I publish

  one book, I did an entire series. None of this would be possible without your help,

  love and guidance. Thank you for being the voice behind my Skylar. He’s not just

  a fictional character to me. He’s the man I fell in love with when I was sixteen

  years old. He’s the man that gave me my amazing children. He’s the man that almost

  thirteen years ago I was worried wasn’t hot enough for me. Thank you for arresting

  me and holding me hostage. Until the wheels fall off, babe. Until those motherfuckers fall the hell off. This is was a team effort and I can’t

  wait to see the crazy ass shit we concoct for the next books.

  Stephanie – The light of my life, the peanut butter to my jelly, the diet to my mountain

  dew. Each and every day you amaze me. You’re the best critique partner a girl could

  ever hope for. You push me when I need it, you lay off when I don’t. Your words of inspiration keep me moving forward. God

  truly blessed me when he placed the ARC of Emerge in my blog email all those months

  ago. He knew that a beautiful friendship would bloom from one simple book. If I

  can’t have you, I don’t want nobody baby!

  Madeline – The other half of my brain. My person. The Mary to my Rhoda. Such an impeccable team that we’ve made. With each conversation, each picture and

  each hilarious post, I know that we were created to meet. I mean, how many people

  who have never met can finish each others sentences. Don’t answer that, it’s probably

  a lot. Thank you for letting me into your crazy, chaotic world and for coming into

  mine. Where ever this road takes us, as long as we have a Louie and each other, I’m sure … well almost sure anyway … that we’ll be just fine. This book was dedicated to my children … I couldn’t help it … but there’s a secondary dedication … To My Dallas … for making my world go round. Crazy bitches till we die.

  Tiffany – My fantastic and beyond extraordinary editor. I really hope this last book makes you want to still work with me going forward.

  I’m a hot ass mess most of the time, but I think you love me anyway. There’s just

  a special bond between us that not too many people will understand. Thank you for

  EVERYTHING.

  Pammy – my heart and soul. Thank you for taking me under your wing, guiding me and

  helping me with so much along the way. It’s an honor to have a friend with such integrity

  and love. You put yourself into everything you have. All the late night talks, the crazy PM’s and the articles of that damn missing plane. You are the best friend, colleague and employer a girl could ever dream of.

  Nicole – thanks for reading shit and telling me the meaning of literally. I don’t know what I would do without you! Now maybe next time, we can get some quality time together!!!

  My Angels – You guys are truly ride or die. You throw yourselves into pimping a book for no reason other than you adore the characters and story line. For all

  the pep talks, the teaser making and the pimping … THANK YOU. If there’s a map with

  names on it, I’m sure you’ve put me there.

  My Beta Readers – there just aren’t words. Most of you have been with me since Mirage and have watched this series of stories evolve into something that I’ve extremely proud of. You catch me when I fail, pick me up when I’ve fallen and push me forward when I’ve slowed down. I really do hope that this story is everything you wanted and needed it to be to have closure.

  Toski/Sommer – my dynamic duo of cover and graphic design. The saying goes, “A picture says a thousand words.” My books do that. From the

  models, to the hair down to the setting … it’s all there and exactly how I see it

  in my head. Then to take those photographs and turn them into the best damn covers

  I’ve ever seen. I don’t care. I’m biased. Sue me. You women are extraordinary

  and I’m so very blessed to have this team working on my books. Some people read the

  synopsis, some read the sample and others look at the covers. So, for all of those

  readers who are crazy in their own way, thank you for giving me the beauty to go with

  the words.

  Carrie/Erin – I know you guys had other plans. A surfboard may have been purchased

  and I’ve been harassed with hashtags for months. I hope you see where I went with

  this and even though nobody is dead, I got him outta the way for you. Here’s to surfboards,

  91000 degrees, Miley twerking and nightmare breath. I adore you girls.

/>   Ashley Suzanne is a married mother of three little boys as well as a daughter, aunt,

  sister, best friend, birth mother, blogger, book whore and author. Ashley is a native

  to the suburbs of Detroit, with most of her family living in Kentucky and New York.

  You can usually find Ashley sitting in bed, with her laptop, playing on Facebook, pretending to write, entering giveaways (she’s also a swag whore) or on a football field with her oldest son, Tyler. Yep, not only is she a football fan, she’s a football mom!

  When she’s reading, it’s typically something to do with romance, contemporary being her favorite genre. She’s a total fan-girl over a few authors; Pamela Ann, SE Hall, Madeline Sheehan, Jasinda Wilder, Maya Banks, CM Stunich, Nicole Jacquelyn and Riley Rhea to name a few.

  Ashley has no pets, unless you count her children and she is a little OCD. Her favorite color is pink. Her favorite drink is cherry vodka and coke and double chocolate brownies are a must.

  Other Works by Ashley Suzanne (all available on Amazon, BN, iTunes, Kobo and Smashwords)

  Mirage (Book One: The Destined Series)

  Inception (Book One 1/2: The Destined Series)

  Awakening (Book Two: The Destined Series)

  Façade (Book Three: The Destined Series)

  Epiphany (Book Four: The Destined Series) – Coming Summer 2014

  Ashley’s Facebook

  Ashley’s Website

  Sign up for Ashley’s Mailing List

  Now Available:

  ENTICE BY SE HALL

  Where do dreams come from? No one knows, and that’s what makes them cool; some are random as fuck, some stem from recent events, but never knowing what you’ll dream each night, how weird or erotic they’ll get, gives you that time with your mind to look forward to.

  When your dream’s the same every night, it becomes a god damn nightmare.

  I know, every single night, what I’m going to see from the time I close my eyes to the moment I drag my sorry ass out of bed in the morning. Without a doubt, I’m going to toss and turn in frustration, a rerun marathon of that night this past summer taunting me.

  This bachelor party, for Parker, who I’ve known maybe eight weeks. God, I’m jealous as hell of him. That Hayden of his fucking adores him, and she’s even hotter knocked up than she was before. And she dotes on his ass in a very independent, non-bloodsucking leech kinda way. Why can’t I find a girl like that?

  Obviously I’ve had too much tequila since I’m hosting my own little titbag party over here, feeling sorry for myself. Fuck this. I hold up two bills in my hand, I think they’re twenties, and Silver Cowboy Boots comes over, way too eagerly.

  Challenge me, dammit! Engage more than my dick!

  “What’s this get me?” I slur, shoving the bills at her.

  She kicks one ankle, then the other, getting my legs just as far apart as she wants them and climbs over them, onto my lap. “This,” she croons and starts to grind. Her attempt to pet my chest all sexy-like is an epic fail, snagging one way too long silver nail on my nipple ring. She better not rip my fucking shirt—I love this shirt.

  “How much to go in the back?” Two months on a farm is damn lonely.

  She cuts quick, nervous glances around, then leans into my ear. “Not my usual club, so not in here,” she whispers. “But for a hundred, I’ll meet you outside, after.”

  Just when I’m about to finalize the exact details, “Shook Me All Night Long,” my favorite song ever, starts blaring. Now this dance I gotta see, moving Dracula Nails off my lap and outta my view to the stage, aka the flat area in this place.

  Spank me and put me to bed…who the fuck is that?

  “Zach?!”

  Nothing.

  “Zach?!” I yell louder.

  “What?”

  “Who. Is. That?” I point to the, um, we’ll go with “dancer” for now.

  “Cause I know her? I think they said Karma or something, but I doubt you’d find her in the phone book under that. Why?”

  Look at him, trying to be all smartass… Well, he fucked it up, who the hell uses a phone book?

  “No reason.” I bounce my shoulders in what I hope looks like casual nonchalance, never taking my eyes off her. That may blow my cover, but damn if I could look away even if I tried.

  I’m thinking it’s the beer, strike that, tequila goggles; has to be. I was just dogging every chick who came near me, ready to pay for a meaningless quickie, a scratch to an itch, and sheer perfection happens to strut in to my favorite song?

  Yeah, and when I’m done here, I’m gonna ride home to the Playboy mansion on the flying fucking dragon that I bought with my lottery winnings.

  This isn’t real; up close she’s probably a big mess with bad breath and a whiny voice…and herpes. Gotta be.

  But here’s what I do know, no guessing, no wishful thinking, no maybe to it—take it to the bank: her hair is so dark and shiny that you can damn near see reflections in it and it has purple streaks in it—hot as hell. AND, wait for it… IT. IS. IN. BRAIDS.

  Usually two braids or ponytails are known as “handlebars” in my language, but on this girl, they’re cute; cute, wet dream-inducing braids.

  Her eyes are as dark as her hair, and hold the fear and anxiety of a kitten stuck in a drainpipe when it’s raining. I may never know where it came from, this instinct that up until this point I would have sworn on a stack of Bibles I didn’t possess, but I swear I hear her mind screaming to mine, “You’re big and strong, protect me, Sawyer, take care of me, hold me and make me unafraid!”

  That body of hers is tiny. Not frail, just petite, and tan and muscular…and her own. She turns it to the side and away from the onlookers and keeps her hands over her barely-covered breasts like the tease is part of the dance, but it’s not. I’d bet you a nut this girl has never danced or stripped before in her life. And if she has, she should stop immediately, because she absolutely sucks at it.

  Those come fuck me heels she’s wearing? They’re two sizes too big and she’s never walked in them before. Also something she should stop doing immediately. If the teetering and wobbling didn’t draw attention to her shapely legs, it’d just be sad, but the legs are worth the painful show. Oh and fuck me, she’s skipping around in a circle. I hope she doesn’t think that’s a good cover for her lack of dance skills…skipping, for crying out loud.

  And lastly, she loves this song. She’s mouthing the words, keeping her eyes unfocused and on the back wall, dying for everything but the song itself to be over. And when it is, she runs like she’s on fire for cover behind the curtain.

  “Who was that?” I ask Dracula Nails, still standing beside me.

  “New girl,” she answers snidely. “First night, can’t you tell?” she laughs.

  “Yeah, I can.”

  “So, I’ll see you later?” she curls those inflated lips at me.

  “Maybe. If I see ya I see ya.” I get up, walking over to Dane. “Where’d you get these girls?”

  “Hell if I know; Brock hooked it up.”

  “So the company, it’s local to us, like in Statesboro?”

  “I think so, why?”

  “Find out for sure. I’m gonna hit the can. Be right back.”

  I really do need to take a leak, but somehow I veer off course, peering behind the curtain like the Great and Powerful Oz will be waiting to hand me the 411 on this girl. I don’t see him, or her, only several other scantily clad women who only remind me how different she was. I want to bust in a demand they tell me her name and where she is, but I’m forced to duck out and shove the curtain back when their escort/bodyguard/whatever guy spots me.

  No worries, Dane can find out for me, that man has scary ways of digging up the buried. I hurry back from the bathroom and catch him just as he’s hanging up his phone. “Well?”

  “Local company, kinda off the radar, Brock isn’t sure they’re on the Better Business Bureau, if you catch my drift.”

  “I don’t.”

 
; He leans into me, talking low and discreetly. “I know nothing, and I’m going to say this, walk out of here and never speak of it again. I may also fire Brock for being a dumbass. It’s some on the side thing for one guy, mostly underage college girls needing money.”

  “Fuck,” I mumble.

  “Fuck is right. My name is never to be associated with this, ever. I had no idea and I’ll kill Brock if he jeopardized any of us in any way. You hear me?”

  “Wait, so college, as in our college?”

  “Yes,” he sighs, running his hand through his hair, mad as hell.

  “My old job ready at The K?” Wait, better yet… “I’ll replace Brock even.”

  “You always have a job with me, Sawyer, you know that. Just say the word.”

  “Word. I’m heading back early. Don’t fire Brock until I say, okay? I need to talk to him first.”

  “You just fire him when you have what you need. My hands are washed of this whole thing. Now get the fuck out of here and pay for the party in cash. No paper, you hear me, Sawyer?”

  “Got it. Go, man.”

  Look out, Skipper, Daddy’s coming home.

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  THE SOUL MATE by MADELINE SHEEHAN

  Prologue

  The world won’t end with a bang.

  The world won’t end with a whimper.

  In fact, the world won’t end at all.

  But it will change and if we refuse to change with it…

  It will be us that ends.

  Bulgaria, 1056 AD

  “The screaming has stopped, Emilian. Time to go.” Ferka gestured toward camp, where Zora Petulengro’s birthing screams had previously seemed unending. Emilian had never been so thankful before that he’d been born a boy.

  He had no desire to go back to camp, even though a few minutes ago he’d felt the sudden urge to run straight there, straight to…that baby.

  That baby, a little girl who was to become his. No, she was already his. She had been given to him, as a gift of sorts. They would be bound together as soon as he could muster up enough courage to make his feet move. She would become his bride when they were of age and would eventually bear his children.