♪“Where Do Broken Hearts Go” by Whitney Houston
THE END (for now)
Note from the author
Thank you so much for taking a chance on a new author. As a reader, I know just how many book options are out there for you to spend your time and money on. It means a lot that you gave me a chance. I’d love to hear from you about what you thought of the first installment of Dawson and Izzy’s story.
I want to explain how this story came to be. One night as I was trying to go to sleep, a new character started speaking to me in the form of a letter. It was Izzy. You can read her letter in the sneak peek in the following pages. So, I immediately set out writing Dawson and Izzy’s story, putting my other book on hold. This second chance romance was destined to be my debut novel. That book is currently being written and is about seventy-five percent done. While I was writing it, I had this brilliant idea to write a short story to let my newsletter subscribers get a glimpse of Dawson and Izzy’s first try at love and its end. As I wrote, the short story that was supposed to just be ten thousand words kept growing. By the time it hit forty thousand words, I knew I needed to regroup on my plan. That is how you came to be reading Beats of the Heart.
Sneak Peek
Want to find out what happens with Dawson and Izzy next? Their story continues in Notes of the Heart. Sign up for my newsletter to find out when the next installment will be available.
Notes of the Heart
Blurb:
Their hearts were in harmony… until the music faded away.
Izzy
Best friends to soul mates to … nothing. Since we were six, Dawson was the most important person in my life. He was my first everything. First friend, first boyfriend, first kiss, first love, first time, first heartbreak. For years our love was a masterpiece. Then two years ago, he ghosted me. Now my world is grey. I’m finally trying to start over, to add muted colors back. Beckett has my trust and friendship, but what he wants most I can’t give him, even if I owe it to him. Every time I try an old song resurfaces and starts singing a familiar tune.
Dawson
Now I know why they call it falling in love. The splat at the end. I should’ve known better than to fall for my best friend. Because now I’ve lost my love, my friend and the inspiration for every song I wrote. My dreams are my reality, and I have it all, except the one thing I want: Izzy. Every song I perform is a reminder of what she inspired. Without her, the music that used to flow freely has died. If I can convince her to be my song, my everything once more, then maybe I won’t feel so out of tune. But her heart’s singing a new melody, and I may be too late.
Can Dawson make Izzy see the classic anthem is better than a one hit wonder?
Excerpt from Notes of the Heart
Hey you,
Yeah, I mean you reading this letter. Sorry for the informal address, but I don’t know you, so that’s the best I’ve got. I know I must sound crazy. Maybe I am. I don’t know what’s crazier, me actually writing a letter instead of texting, tweeting and posting some passive-aggressive message on Facebook or me reaching out to a stranger thinking you might hold the answers to help me.
I figure this whole mess started with a letter, well a drawing mostly, that he answered. Then it ended with a letter he didn’t, so maybe a letter can help me find clarity. Maybe I should start at the beginning. Then after you have all the facts you can tell me what to do.
When I was six, I needed a friend. So, I drew a picture and asked him. He said yes.
When I was eight, I wanted a boyfriend. So, I wrote a note and asked him. He said yes.
When I was sixteen, I needed a prom date. So, I sent an email and asked him. He said yes.
When I was twenty-one, I wanted an opportunity. So, I sent a text and asked him. He said yes.
When I was twenty-three, I needed him. So, I called. He didn’t answer. So, I sent a text and an email and a note and a picture. He never answered.
Now, I’m twenty-five, and I need to move on. I need to live and love and be happy. He’s living his dream and loving life somewhere else. I have a second chance at life, and I need to take it.
But today there was an envelope in my mailbox. That old familiar handwriting that I haven’t seen in years, well other than all the times I dig through my box of memories hidden in my closet. Maybe I should just throw it out with all the junk mail that also filled my mailbox and pretend I didn’t see it like he did all those years ago with my messages. What do you think?
Thanks,
Indulging in Idiocy (aka Izzy)
Dear Universe,
I’m an idiot. Words have always mattered to me, whether they were scratched in childish scrawl with a crayon underneath a drawing or written in beginner’s cursive in a note passed in class or inscribed in a beautiful looping script within a sketchbook or shorthand text speak or quick messages of encouragement in my inbox or etched on my heart forming a song. They’ve always come easily, even when I don’t let them out. But for the first time in my life, I think words may fail me. I don’t know what to do. It’s my hope that if I share some of them with you, you can help me find the right ones to regain what I’ve lost. I swear I’m not nuts. I’m just a man who loved a girl, and then like an idiot left her behind to chase my own dreams. But even the brightest of dreams coming true lose their sparkle without someone to share them with. Without the one to share them with. I need to go back to the beginning, back to when it all started with a note.
When I was six, I was lonely. Until she became my best friend.
When I was nine, I was miserable. Until she became my refuge.
When I was eleven, I was lost. Until she became my song.
When I was sixteen, I was in hell. Until she became my heaven.
When I was nineteen, I was falling. Until she became my rope.
When I was twenty-one, I was soaring. Until she became my anchor.
When I was twenty-three, I was a star and, on my way, to having it all. Until it all became a black hole with no sun in sight.
Now, I’m twenty-five, and I’m lonely and miserable and lost and in hell and falling. And I’ll continue being all those things until I either crash and burn or… Until I convince her to be my anchor, my rope, my song, my refuge, my best friend, my everything once more.
What do you think? Can I win her back? I know I don’t deserve her back in my life. She was always there for me when I needed her. And I didn’t return the favor. What should I do? She has a chance at happiness. Can I stand in the way of that?
Sincerely,
Dying in my Dreams (aka Dawson)
About the Author
So, I know these things are generally written in third person as if someone else is talking about me. But I just can’t do it. LOL. It may be “unprofessional” but I’m just me. And I hope that’s OK with you guys.
I’m a Carolina girl, through and through. I have lived in North Carolina my whole life. I’m a wife, a mom, a scientist and a freelance editor. And I’m really hoping to add author to the list.
For as long as I can remember, reading has been my favorite way to pass the time. I always have a book with me and usually am reading more than one at any given time. Editing for indie authors gave me a unique glimpse into the indie publishing world. It’s a world I’m really enjoying becoming a part of.
I’d love to hear from you guys. Tell me what you think of Dawson and Izzy. Recommend a great book for me to check out. Let me know what typos you found within my pages. Whatever you want, I want to hear from you.
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/dBkmHL
Website: https://charlirosewriter.wixsite.com/website
Email: [email protected]
My reader group: Charli’s Rockin’ Reader group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/248156682622380/
Acknowledgments
Wow. I never imagined I would be doing something like this. Writing was never really on my radar until a couple of years ago. It’s been a long process, and I’
ve learned it really does take a village to do something like write and publish a book. I’m going to do my best to thank everyone in my village. If I miss someone, it isn’t because you aren’t important. It’s because the list is monstrous.
First to my husband, Brian, who has always encouraged me in any endeavor I decided to undertake, thanks isn’t enough. You’re the inspiration to every romantic thing that pops in my mind. And to my son, Matthew, for being quite understanding when work for Mommy seems to never end, I love you.
Thank you, Leslie, for being by my side for nearly three decades, loving and encouraging me and offering your expertise on all things art related in this story. Your willingness to read and give honest feedback as I went was invaluable. And thank you to Leslie’s other half, CJ for your help on the music side of things.
Thanks to Alora for starting my feet moving down this path with a shove of encouragement after a brainstorming session for your books. And thanks to you and your daughter, Elora for your help with the photo edits for the cover. The dye job on Izzy’s hair turned out better than I ever expected.
Susan, thank you first of all for giving a beautiful face to this story. It is stunning. But more than that, thank you for your friendship and support. I’ve needed it so many times to keep putting words to paper. Without you, I probably would’ve let this thing sit in my computer forever.
Krysta, Yanette, Keshia, and Ambere, you all have been wonderful with giving advice, feedback, encouragement, and friendship, never once worrying about how I would be able to juggle polishing your words while writing my own.
Ann Marie, your friendship and wisdom were vital during this experience.
Tempi, you’ve been amazing in the short time I’ve known you. It’s rare for someone to be so willing to help a new friend so much. Thank you.
Jill, thank you for reading my unpolished words for me. Your reassurance and friendship mean the world to me.
Athena, Crystal, Anne, Kennedy - thank you all for inspiring me and encouraging me to pursue this dream.
Rebecca and Heather, thank you both for pushing me to write my best version of this story. I can’t even begin to thank you for your ability to drive me to be better.
Nathanie, thank you so much for not only polishing my words, but also loving my characters and worrying about them.
Special thanks to two authors who were willing to allow Dawson and Izzy “read” their books as a way to stay connected while they were apart. As a reader myself, I highly recommend the books. Cassia Leo’s Shattered Hearts Series https://amzn.to/2z2as1H and Kendall Ryan’s Filthy Beautiful Lies https://amzn.to/2ywf2Ws are both great reads and some of the first books I ever read when I got my first Kindle. Also, thanks to Crystal Kaswell for letting her tattoo shop make a cameo. If you enjoy sexy tattoo artists, check out her Inked Hearts Series https://amzn.to/2D41wgv
Thank you to Whiff for helping me create something unique. Izzy’s special perfume mentioned in the book is an actual perfume that I worked with a perfumer to design. It really is called Happily Ever After, and it is amazing. If you want your own bottle of it, here’s the link to it https://www.whiff.com/products/charli-happily-ever-after
And to everyone who took a chance on an unknown author, thank you. Knowing that you took the time to read my words is truly humbling. I hope you’ll reach out and let me know what you thought. And I really hope you’ll tune in for the next chapter in Dawson and Izzy’s love story. If you enjoyed Beats of the Heart, please consider leaving a review on Amazon for it.
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