Paradise Forbidden
Page 20
I don’t hear anything. Just a humdrum of voices as the presenters announce the nominees. I clutch Kat’s thigh tighter.
I don’t realize we’ve won until Chris and Griff jump out of their seats suddenly, grabbing each other in a huge bear hug. Kat turns to me, grazing my cheek with her lips. “You did it,” she says.
I stand up from the table, leading her to her feet. “No, Kat, we did it.”
We join Chris and Griff around the table, hugging each other and shaking hands for so long that I swear one of the presenters clears her throat just to get our attention.
When we look up at the stage, we see…
The cover of our first edition.
We finally hop up the steps to the stage. I stop just shy of where the microphone stands when I realize that the entire Tripping Out! gang is standing behind me. Kat, Chris and Griff are all motioning to me from the perimeter, encouraging me to take the platform.
I step up to the mic.
“Hi… My name is Brendon Foxx… formerly of Foxxhole Publishing. I’ve, uh… I’ve been to these awards before.” I look out into the crowd. “Met many of you… time and time again. And yet, I feel as if I’m looking out from behind the podium with new eyes.
“Tripping Out! has been a journey: a long, arduous journey. It’s been much harder than anything I’ve ever experienced with Foxxhole. Much more strenuous… and I wouldn’t trade a second of it.
“To Christopher Johnson and Lukas Griffin: thank you for standing beside me on this journey. You are the greatest partners anyone could have ever asked for.
“And to Kat Lexington… thank you for being my guide.” I look back at her, winking conspiratorially.
“And to the Pubbies, thank you for this magnificent recognition. We are truly honored.”
At that, I exit the stage with my Tripping Out! team to the sound of joyous applause. With the award in my hands, I sit back down at our table, floating through the rest of the ceremony in a lightheaded haze.
Dozens of well-wishers shake my hand after the ceremony is over, congratulating Tripping Out! on our success. I don’t remember any of their names; I recall about half of their faces. Many of them want to collaborate, and a few pitch their proposals. I’m indifferent at the moment.
Only one proposal matters to me right now.
When it is time to leave, I stumble towards the car, thinking about exactly what I’m going to do as soon as I get Kat alone. Unaware, she straps herself into the Audi, smiling widely at me.
I grin back at her, feeling the ring’s box in my pocket. She is so beautiful.
Surprisingly, I am not nervous. I am eerily calm. Probably because I know, with everything in me, that this is exactly where I want to be… with whom I want to be.
“You ready?” she asks me, excitedly. Her eyes are bright: shining beacons of blue out of the darkness.
I am serene when I respond. “Never been more ready…”
Lukas Griffin
I take another sip of my scotch, scanning the crowd for tonight’s lucky lady: my next lay.
Blondes, redheads, brunettes. All decked out in sultry cocktail dresses. All good-looking… and pleasantly drunk.
But my eyes keep straying back to one person.
You can’t miss her in that dark red get-up: that deep, plunging dress with the skin-tight wrap.
Her legs are unusually long, especially considering her height. She’s only got a few inches on Kat, and every extra inch seems to have fallen from the waist down.
Miles of slim calves and toned thighs, shooting up from these sky-high heels, cross my line of sight from fifty feet away.
Elena.
Son-of-a-fucking-bitch.
I hate to say it, but it’s true. Kat’s sister is a certified bombshell… and has been plucking my last fucking nerve all night.
She’s mouthy.
She’s uptight.
And she’s so goddamned arrogant…
I am definitely going to fuck her tonight.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
This note is for every word-lover out there –all the authors, the writers, the editors, the publishers and, above all else, the readers.
I’ve loved words since I was a child: since my mother sat a Bible in my four-year-old hands and had me read passages on the car drive into school. And I love them still.
I found a college essay recently where I had pleaded with my conscience to not allow myself to become a “washed-up” writer by the age of 12.
It almost happened.
I almost lost that spark: that creativity that burned in me at such a young age –when I used to write my own stories, illustrate my own drawings, and staple the pages into books for my parents to read later.
Luckily, I found my way back. I hope to never lose that again.
My hope, for anyone reading this, is that you NEVER let your spark be extinguished.
Acknowledgments
To my mother: my editor, my beta-reader, and confidant – you’ve pushed me in ways that no one else has, and your confidence in me is never-ending. Without you, this little amateur writer would be nothing. Do you hear me? NOTHING. I love you. You inspire me.
To Mama G: my content-editor, my unofficial personal assistant – you breathe life into my stories, making each sentence better than the next. *sings* “You are the wind beneath my wings.” I love you.
To my family and my “darling”: my personal cheerleaders, my heart –you give me the balls to share my writing with the world. I would never take this road if it weren’t you being behind me in ALL that I do. No one could love or appreciate you more than I do.
To the readers and bloggers: the best fucking people on the planet, the reason I wake up every day (not even joking) –there aren’t enough words to express what you mean to me! You are my WORLD: the very life-blood behind my writing. I appreciate and love you more than you could ever know. THANK YOU for believing in me.
More about the Author
Natalie E. Wrye is a math geek by day, writer by night. She is a quirky, former Yankee living in Northwest Georgia with nothing but her Friends and Gilmore Girls reruns to keep her company.
Natalie started writing nonsensical stories at the ripe age of 6; she hopes things have changed since then. She loves chocolate, cuddly things, and large libraries. Oh...and she thinks it's pretty cool to talk in 3rd person.
If you’d like a look at my other books on Amazon or Goodreads, please feel free to stop by! Please feel free to leave a review while you’re there, too!
And I LOVE to talk shop (a.k.a. books), so PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE do not hesitate to e-mail me at nataliewrites@nataliewrye.com OR leave a comment on NatalieWrye.com OR on my Facebook.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1: Climate Change
Chapter 2: It Never Rains But It Pours
Chapter 3: Like a Bolt from the Blue
Chapter 4: Tempest in a Teapot
Chapter 5: Hurricane Katarina
Chapter 6: Lightning Strikes
Chapter 7: Which Way the Wind Blows
Chapter 8: A Cold Front
Chapter 9: Red Sky at Night
Chapter 10: Atmospheric Pressure
Chapter 11: A Ray of Sunshine
Chapter 12: Heat Advisory
Chapter 13: Scorching Hot
Chapter 14: A Storm is Brewing
Chapter 15: Heat Wave
Chapter 16: Rainmaker
Chapter 17: Caught in a Downpour
Chapter 18: Partly Cloudy Skies
Chapter 19: Cloud Nine
Epilogue
Sneak Peek
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
More about the Author
e = " -webkit-filter: grayscale(100%); -moz-filter: grayscale(100%); -o-filter: grayscale(100%); -ms-filter: grayscale(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share