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Subtle Reminders

Page 45

by D. J. Pierson

To you, the reader. Writers have no reason to write without you.

  To Marisa at Cover Me, Darling and Allyson at Athena Interior Book Design. This book wouldn’t have a face to show the world without you.

  To the authors and bloggers I’ve met on this journey. The book community would be boring without you.

  To Kim. Plan and simple, I’d be screwed without you.

  To my betas. There is no story without each and every one of you.

  To my family and friends. I’d have no support without you.

  To my husband and kids. I’d have nothing without you.

  To each of you, with all of my heart, THANK YOU!

  D.J. Pierson graduated from Fairleigh Dickinson University in 2002 with a degree in Radiologic Technology. While she will claim to be more of an obsessed reader than a writer, she decided to share a story of her own. She currently resides in New Jersey with her husband, their two children, and two dogs.

  To find out what’s new, you can check out her Facebook page or you can email her at D.J.Pierson@comcast.net

  Continue reading for a peek at GUIDED LOVE,

  the first book in The Prick Series by Tracie Redmond

  I never realized how much crap one person accumulates. I mean, seriously, I am standing in my tiny apartment surrounded by fifty boxes full of crap. I absolutely hate moving, not that I have moved that much. Only once, really, and that was to attend college four years ago. Yet, now that I have graduated, I am ready to start my life.

  “You have so much stuff, Sam. Where the hell did it all come from?” my friend Gabby yells, as she is trying to rummage through my closet. I know what she is doing, she was supposed to help me pack and label but she hasn’t moved from that closet and she keeps pulling clothes out telling me that I don’t have to take them. Yep, her pile is growing and she hasn’t packed one box yet.

  “Gabby, get your ass out of my closet and start taping some boxes for me. I have to have all of this packed and loaded in the next two days.” I hear her sigh, but I also hear the tape and movement of boxes. Thank goodness.

  “I don’t know why you’re moving across the country, Sam; you didn’t even land a permanent job in Philadelphia yet. Why not just stay here in the beautiful state of California? You’re not even going to know anyone on the East Coast.”

  “I’m moving to be closer to Camaron, you know that, and I do have a job at Camaron’s shop.”

  “Yeah, as the bookkeeper. Come on, Sam, you didn’t bust your ass to go through four years of college to move across country to be a freaking bookkeeper!”

  Gabby is getting emotional, I can hear it in her voice. She has been my friend for the last four years. She truly is a sweet soul and I know she doesn’t want me to move, but this has always been the plan.

  Camaron and I have been friends since elementary school. I met him the first day of second grade. Some mean girls were picking on me, pulling my hair and throwing dirt at me and Camaron came to my rescue. A big fourth grader coming in and protecting me. From that day on, my loyalty and heart belonged to Camaron Willis. During recess, he would go up behind the slides and pull out a tablet and draw. I didn’t think he would want a second grader hanging around, but he always let me stay. We would be “friends forever,” he would say, and we have from that day on.

  Even when we started high school and we found ourselves in two different cliques, nothing broke us. I became the “nerd” and Camaron became the “freak.” I joined the math club and the debate team, while Camaron dyed his blonde hair black and started to pierce and tattoo his body. Looking at us you would think we had nothing in common, but looks could be deceiving. No one could understand the weird connection that we have, saying everything to each other with just one look. When I was a sophomore and Cam a senior, we made our plan. He was going to graduate that year and get his Associates Degree in art at the local community college, while I continued school. Then I would go to college and get a degree in journalism. We would move to the city and he would open his own studio and I would become a famous author. When I graduated, I chose not to attend the local university, and went two hours away to USC.

  That was a big change since Camaron and I never spent time apart. It was different, being all alone and having to meet new people; yet, the bond Cam and I have, didn't diminish. We talked multiple times a day and saw each other whenever I was able to head home on weekends. It wasn’t that lonely, especially when I finally became friends with Gabby. While I was away, Camaron actually did an apprenticeship at a local tattoo parlor. He shadowed Rags the owner and learned the art of tattooing. He was determined to be the best; his dream of opening a studio, turned into opening a tattoo parlor. He is an incredible artist and became one of the best tattoo artists in our area.

  Yet, he wanted bigger and better and staying here in California, was not in the cards. I remember the day he broke the news to me. He drove down and surprised me that morning. I knew something was up because it was Saturday and there is no way Camaron would be up and visiting me before ten. When I opened the door I knew, by looking at his face, that something was wrong.

  “Hey, Cam, are pigs flying? What’s going on? Why are you here before ten am?”

  He rolled his eyes at me. “I wanted to see my anchor, I’ve missed you,” he said before giving a slight pause. “We need to talk.”

  Yeah, something was up. He was using his nickname for me: his Anchor—that’s— what he calls me. I am the “only constant in his life” he says. He never opens up to anyone——no one has gotten through the walls he built, except me.

  “Okay, Camaron, what’s up? You have me nervous here.”

  We walked into my apartment. I notice he truly looks like he is going to be sick, as he is pacing back and forth, just mumbling.

  “Camaron Willis! You better tell me what the hell is going on before I come over there and kick your ass.”

  “Yeah, as if you kick my ass. I would love to see that,” he says. “Wouldn’t want you to chip a nail or get a hair out of place in your perfect bun, Sam,” he smirked. “Okay, sit down, I want to talk to you and I need to say this as fast as possible.”

  My heart stopped. What could be this important? It’s a girl. He found someone and now he is here telling me that he is getting married or worse he is having a baby—he is having a baby with someone else. Ugh, why didn't I ever tell him! Why didn’t I ever let him know that he owns my heart and soul? Dear goodness, I think I am going to be sick!

  “So, what, did you find the love of your life and now you’re having a baby and getting married?”

  Oh my, I can’t believe I just asked that. What is wrong with me?

  “Sam, you are hysterical, aren’t you. Come, sit down, please. You know I'm never getting married and you are the only woman in my life that counts. You’re my anchor, babe.”

  Thank goodness he laughs at my reaction. I sit down and look at him—he still looks nervous.

  “Okay, Sam, there has been a small change to our plans. Remember we said that we were moving to the city after you graduate, and live our dreams?”

  “Yeah, I remember.”

  “That’s still the plan, but the city and time frame has changed.”

  “What do you mean the time frame and what city are we going to?”

  “Well, that’s the thing. Instead of moving to San Diego, when you graduate, you’ll be moving to Philadelphia, with me. I’m moving there . . . today.”

  “What! What the hell, Camaron? What do you mean you’re moving to Philadelphia? Like, Philadelphia on the East Coast? TODAY! I don't understand what you’re saying!”

  My heart is breaking here. I can’t stop the tears that are falling from my eyes. It’s not a girl and it’s not a baby, it is much worse—Camaron is leaving me. I look up at him and he looks mad.

  “How could you leave me, Camaron?”

  “Leave you? I am following my dream here, Sam. How could you even ask me to stay? You are my best friend, the one person who always said I should be ha
ppy. ‘Find your happiness, Camaron’! And now, now that I have this huge opportunity to go and open a shop with Rags' nephew, you are asking me why I'm leaving you? Sam, I'm not leaving you. I’m always going to be there, just like when you left to come here. We’ll still talk on the phone. And when you graduate, you will come and be with me. We will live our dreams, Sam, we’ll have it all.”

  “I know you’re right and I know that I can’t ask you not to go, but freaking Philadelphia, Pennsylvania? Seriously, Camaron, that is across the country!”

  About Tracie Redmond

  I was born and raised in Northeastern, Pennsylvania where I still live today with my husband and three beautiful children. Like everyone, I have had my ups and downs and have seen my life take a complete change. Previously, I was a working mom putting in 60 hours a week as a Financial Advisor but with the sudden loss of my mom who was my best friend I found myself giving up the suits and meetings for jeans and snack time. I have always had the passion for reading and found an escape through the words of all the talented authors I have read. My passion allowed me the opportunity to blog and to get a wonderful insight into the indie world. I have enormous pride and stay true to the characters and their stories as they reveal themselves to me. I am so excited to have this opportunity to share my stories and hope you love them as much as I do.

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