He sprung on me like a lion might spring on its prey. One moment I’m standing in the doorway, trying to find the words that express how much he means to me, the next minute he’s before me, gripping the sides of my head, his lips on mine, a kiss consumed with furious desperation and need. When he finally stopped, he didn’t pull away. Instead our lips were separated by only a breath of air, his forehead resting hard against mine. His hands still clutched the sides of my head in a gentle, yet firm grip. Cain was shaking, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
“No more tears, it breaks my heart. Just promise me you will never leave again, swear it again, right here, right now.”
I wrapped my fingers around his wrists and held him just as tight. “I promise I’ll never leave you again. I spent the better part of my life fighting for my sanity, and I swear I’ll spend the rest of my life fighting for you, for us.” His eyes fluttered shut, and he didn’t move away, he stood before me, holding me, absorbing my words.
“You don’t have to fight for me, baby. I’m yours, always have been and always will be.”
I didn’t move as my heart settled into the familiar rhythm it beat from simply being in Cain’s presence, my soul reconnecting with his, peace sinking back into my world once more.
Eventually Cain dragged me into the house; pressing me against the door he made love to me. It was fast, manic, and passionate, like he was reclaiming my body. I managed to pull myself away long enough to grab a glass of water before he took me again in the kitchen, a little slower this time, yet with no less passion. By the time we made it to the bedroom, only room in the house that had furniture, my legs were as weak as wet noodles, my body aching in a delicious kind of way, and my heart, mind, and body were beginning to take comfort in having Cain back in my life. Under the deep layers of hurt, confusion, pain, and loss that made up Violet Trivoli, there was a strong heart full of determination, love, and happiness, and I was going to fight every day to allow that light to shine through the shadowed layers. Cain was worth it, my dad was worth it, but most importantly, I had finally recognized that I was also worth it.
Some people measure their lives with moments. My life has been measured with birth and death, two births and eventually, there will be two deaths. My first birth was September 15th, 1986. Violet Trivoli born to Garret and Linda Trivoli, two people who lived and loved to extremes. It was my own life of extremes that ended my first life on New Year’s Day in 2013. My first death concluded a life lived in fear, fear of myself, fear of the truth, fear of love. My second birth was six days later, when I awoke to a new life, one with no less fear, but with much more courage. I guess sometimes it takes the brutal finality of death to become stronger and wiser. I was proud of my new life and had every intention of living it courageously until my final death, which would hopefully be many, many years from now.
My feet were tucked beneath me on the sofa, and I smiled as I watched Cain. He was lying on his stomach, across the rug in our furnished living room. His son—our son—lying on his back before him. He was stroking a long finger down Oliver’s face, coaxing his little eyes closed as they grew heavier and heavier. Oliver had just drifted off to sleep, having tuckered himself out with an energetic game of hit daddy on the head with his rattle as many times as he could. Oliver was the most perfect little blob, but as his other-mother, I was quite possibly a little bias. At six months old, he was growing just as he was supposed to, eating, smiling, laughing, and filling his diapers with the most disgraceful, foul smelling poop I had ever encountered. He also dropped off to sleep anywhere, and I mean, anywhere! Like on the floor in our living room only moments after beating his daddy senseless with his rattle. I loved watching Cain with his son. The love was an ever present glow that followed him around even on the days we weren’t with Oliver. The way he looked at the little bundle of life was like nothing I had ever seen, so intense and pure it filled my heart with joy just to witness. I had been sober going on eighteen months, and while I wished I could say the challenging moments were now behind me, it was still a battle that crept into my life, hitting me when I least expected it. The need and want for alcohol and drugs seemed to slumber quietly in hibernation, waiting for the day I wasn’t strong enough to fight the cravings. Hatred and inadequacy were difficult emotions to completely silence, and some days I struggled to ignore those voices. With Cain’s steadfast determination, and the help of my father and even Annabelle, I worked through the bad days. Annabelle had been right when she said the baby would be good for me. He really was a blessing that I never truly believed would help me through those difficult moments. The need to care and protect the innocent baby rose above all destructive urges, silently compelling me to do better, to be better. I was still worried I might one day hit the same wall my mother had. That one day I would wake up and miss the tumultuous days of my inebriated highs. I was terrified of following in her footsteps, but Dr. Brightman’s words remained steady in my mind:
“You are not your mother, Violet. You are your own person with your own mind. You are strong and determined and free to make your own choices, and you can choose to be sober.”
Today, I chose to be sober, and I would fight to stay sober for all the days that followed.
I glanced down at the book I was reading; the male character was Italian. I smiled as thoughts of Peiro danced through my head. They weren’t sexual thoughts of longing or desire, it was simply an acknowledgement of friendship, a man who had touched my heart and helped it heal. I hadn’t heard from Peiro since the day I phoned him to admit I could never give myself to him the way he wanted. I often thought of him and wondered where he was and if he was happy. I guess if Cain’s interpretation of fate was correct, Peiro was on his own path that would eventually lead him to where he needed to be, and hopefully that was into the arms of someone who loves him for the caring, wonderful man he is. As my thoughts drifted over the past, present, and future, Cain carefully lifted a now sleeping Oliver and disappeared down the hall to his nursery. We’d been having him for sleepovers one night a week for a month now, and eventually that would increase to at least two nights a week. A shared agreement between me, Cain, Annabelle, and Toby, who Annabelle had moved in with last weekend. Toby was the perfect other-father and his daughter, Willow, was the most adorable other-sister. Yes, our family was unconventional, a hybrid Brady Bunch, but we wouldn’t have it any other way. It seemed we all eventually fell on our feet and into our own unique idea of perfection.
“Harry called. The studio has been booked for next week,” Cain said as he climbed onto the couch and pushed the discarded book in my lap aside.
We were recording our tenth album and spending far too much time in the studio, something we had sworn we would never do. Live performances were in our blood. We still did an overnight gig out of town once a month, and Harry had plans for a three week tour at the end of the year, but neither Cain nor I wanted to be far from Oliver for too long. So, that meant if we wanted to keep our music careers intact, we had to give some hardcore attention to recording and studio time.
Laying his head in my lap, Cain gave me a playful grin. “Wanna make out?”
I gave him a stern look. “This is a sex free zone until Annabelle picks up Oliver tomorrow afternoon, so, pop a cork in it, mister.”
Cain struggled not to laugh. “Popping a cork in it sounds painful, and I asked if you wanted to make out, not screw me senseless.”
I slapped his arm playfully. “Making out with you always leads to senseless screwing.”
Cain lifted himself out of my lap. “Baby, there ain’t nothing senseless about screwing you.” Well, that was sweet, sort of. “I want to give you something,” he whispered, his voice suddenly less playful. “I wanted to wait until the piano arrived, but it’s taking too long and I can’t wait.” Urgency laced his words. Cain had ordered a $37,000, Baldwin Concert Grand Piano that was apparently so impressive there was a four month wait before it would be delivered. I couldn’t imagine what could be so importa
nt it couldn’t wait a few more months, and more so, I couldn’t imagine why on earth he would need to wait for the piano to arrive to give it to me. God, I hoped he hadn’t ordered a matching piano for me to learn how to play in some crazy musical experiment like the guitars.
“Okay, well, give it to me,” I suggested, giving him a gentle shove.
Cain disappeared down the hall and reappeared a moment later with his guitar. Somewhat relieved it wasn’t a replica baby piano he was going to force me to learn, I watched him warily as he sat on the floor before me.
“This was supposed to be played on a piano, but I guess since I wrote it and virtually composed it on the guitar, it doesn’t really matter.” I simply stared in shocked silence, and when he began to strum, his eyes lifted and locked on mine.
I still remember
You took my breath away
In your eyes I saw beauty
In your smile I saw pain
To be what you needed
My love was not enough
Inside you needed healing
In a place I couldn’t touch
So run to me darlin’
Together we’ll fight this
Run to me darlin’
I want to live, in a beautiful shade of Violet.
Now I've seen your heart
I've touched all your scars
Still I'm right here holding on
I'll keep waiting out this time
Let's take this chance
Hold my hand
I'll be right beside you baby
This is our time
I’m gonna make you mine
Not sure how much more I can take
So run to me darling
Together we'll find it
So run to me darling
I wanna live
In a beautiful shade of violet
We can take
Different paths
Different fates
Striking out
More mistakes
But all along there's one thing that I knew
When the moments fade, all that’s left is the truth
My hearts gon' bring me right back home to you
My hearts gon' bring me right back home to you
So won’t you run to me darling
Together we'll find it
Oh won’t you run to me darling
I wanna live
So run to me darlin’
Together we’ll find it
So won’t you run to me darlin’
My beautiful, beautiful
My beautiful shade of violet
I was incapable of speech, so I simply lifted Cain’s guitar out of his arms, slid off the sofa, and straight into his lap. My mind flew back to that beautiful night where I laid under his warm body as Cain drew on my skin and penned poetry on my stomach. It had been a song, a song for me.
“I don’t know what to say,” I whispered in his ear, my arms wrapped so tightly around his neck I thought I might be choking him. Cain didn’t complain, so I didn’t give an inch.
“Then just say yes,” he breathed. Cain forced a small sliver of space between us, unwrapping my arm from around his neck and turning my hand over, palm up. Dropping his lips to my palm, he pressed a kiss right to the middle, and as he pulled away, in the warm place his lips had just been, Cain placed a ring. It was exquisite in white gold with a halo of clear cut diamonds gracefully curving around a round-cut amethyst diamond in the center. The clear diamonds then extended down the thin band on either side of the center stone. It was exquisite, and its meaning slammed into me with the power of a Mack truck. Just say yes. I somehow pulled my gaze away from the stunning ring and looked Cain in the eye.
“Yes.” The word off my tongue had never felt so right. While my free hand had reached without conscious thought to the last piece of jewelry Cain had given me, my necklace, Cain slipped the ring on my finger. Then cupping my cheek, he leaned in slowly to kiss me with an unhurried patience Cain was not renowned for. It was a gentle persuasion of his lips on mine, a silent promise, and a marking of our next adventure. My future had never felt so sure and safe. I had never felt so happy and loved. It had taken a rocky and turbulent lifetime to reach this moment, but being here with Cain now was worth every tear shed, every sliver of pain, and every aching beat of my heart. Through it all though, one thing had remained sure and constant. Our love had been like music, some moments were high notes, some moments were low notes, but always, our love had been completely and irrevocably beautiful.
To hear Cain’s song to Violet, follow this link to the Violet Addiction book trailer on YouTube
A Shade Of Violet
Available soon at iTunes
Every now and again a moment creeps up on me where I doubt myself, I doubt my writing, and my confidence slips. However, I’m surrounded by a circle of family and friends who are always prepared to give me a shoulder to lean on and push me back into the right frame of mind. Those people know who they are, names don’t need to be thrown about. Thank you, always!
To the numerous people I interviewed in preparation for writing V.A., again, no names will be given. I respect your right to anonymity, but you know who you are. Thank you for gifting me with a precious glimpse inside your life and battles. I hope I did your memories and stories justice.
Beau, who gave me a crash course in song writing and helped write and produce a beautiful song to accompany V.A., thank you so very much!
Rhylee, my stunning cover model, thank you X
One Night Stand Dress Hire on the Gold Coast, for the gorgeous designer dress you so generously loaned me for the cover, thank you.
Fabian from Boyce Avenue, thank you for allowing me to pick your brain and steal segments of your career for my fictional needs! It was so awesome to meet you guys, and thank you for bringing Jess over. I adore the crap out of that lady! And let’s not forget poor Rach who got left at home *sad face*. You’ll get your own hug one day soon, babe!
The bloggers, so, so many bloggers. A Love Affair with Books, Bookslapped, Totally Booked, The Reading Vixens, Forever Me Romance, Eye Candy Bookstore, Books and Friendz, Submit and Devour, A is for Alpha B is for Books, Fab Fun and Tantalizing Reads, Rockin’ and Reviewing, Through the Booking Glass, Rockin’ the Bookshelf, The Lovely Books, Sassy Mum Book Blog, The Danish Bookaholic, This Redhead Loves Books, Magic Within the Pages, Reading Renee, We Art Books, Just One Indie’s Opinion, Sweet and Spicy Book Reviews, Glass Paper Ink (Kristine, thank you times a thousand, lady, and you know why!), Love Between the Sheets, Book Addict Mumma, bloody hell, the list goes on! All of you are totally freaking awesome, and I have nothing but respect and love for each and every one of you.
My fellow authors who I admire the heck out of and can now call friends, thank you for filling my social media with your love of words and craziness that keeps me oh so entertained. Carmen Jenner (I adore the crap out of you honey, thank you for your support and help!), Super Mich, Kirsty Moseley, Michelle Horst, Jennifer Ryder, River Savage, Kylie Scott, Nina Levine, Skyla Madi, Simone Nicole, Angel Steel, David Hamilton, and all the rest, thank you for your friendship.
Susan, Angela, and Lauren, thank you again for keeping my fan page running nice and smoothly; you girls are all sorts of awesome-sauce.
And finally, my fans, you all rock my world. It is your love of my books and encouragement that keeps me focused and helps fuel my passion, thank you.
Many people come into our lives for different reasons, some for long periods of time, some for brief encounters, but so many are taken for granted. It might be a friendship you've had since childhood; a boss who took interest in you and set out extra time in her day to help you with something you wanted to be better at; your soul mate; the cashier at the grocery store who gives a word of encouragement when she sees you're having a really bad day; or maybe a stranger who comes up to you while pumping gas to tell you your tire’s flat, saving you from a horrible blowout on the freeway.
But how many ti
mes have we given these people a true and heartfelt thank you for the ways they've touched our lives, no matter how small? How many times do we brush people off with a simple thank you because we know it's expected of us? Or just say the words as an automatic response, not really thinking of the blessings we've been gifted?
Violet Addiction is the seventh novel of Ms. Dallas’ I've had the honor to edit. With each novel, Kirsty and I have grown closer and closer. I have an absolute blast every time we communicate. She's silly like me, and we’re almost always on the same page—from my wanting to own a kangaroo and wanting to start my own kangaroo clothing line to shopping for the perfect houses and cars online for her characters. Even though every single bit of our friendship has been through email, I've grown fond of her and have the utmost respect for her. Working for her is more than a job; it's fun, and I'm so lucky to be a part of her real and fictional worlds.
So, Ms. Kirsty, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for taking a chance on me. Thank you for being patient with my comments, questions on Aussie lingo, and mini rants. Thank you for being silly with me. Thank you for teaching me about man buns. Thank you for sharing SR with me, and thank you for letting me rant on and on about my kids and/or Deputy Hubby. Thanks for simply asking about my day and encouraging me when it's a bad one, then emailing me a few days later, just to see how I am. Thank you for forgiving me if I miss something in one of your books. Thank you for being such an inspirational writer. Your books have touched my life in many ways. And finally, thank you for sharing Violet’s story.
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