by Frankie Rose
I never felt the same way about LA. Los Angeles was a smoke and mirrors place. Nothing seemed real. You were never sure if what you were looking at was truly there, or if it was some sort of mirage that would evaporate in the blink of an eye. My life felt like it was in perfect alignment when I drove my Fastback through the streets of Williamsburg, my possessions packed in boxes and crammed in the trunk. It was strange to go back to my place and find it devoid of all things Avery, though.
We said we were going to take things slow, but of course that didn’t last very long. We were living in each other’s pockets, never apart, one of us carrying our toothbrush three blocks over at all times. Didn’t take us long to decide that we should move back in together. It was painful for Avery to be in my apartment, though. The months spent there without me had understandably taken their toll. And the new place Avery had moved into was beautiful, but it didn’t really feel like a home, either. We both gave notice and found a huge loft close by that had stunning views of Manhattan and the river instead. It’s funny how you can think you’re happy in a place until you move somewhere else. Happiness isn’t a location. It’s a state of being. It’s the sound of her laughter as her boots crunch on the carpet of leaves in fall. It’s snowflakes caught in the gentle curve of her eyelashes in winter. It’s the way she lays on the grass in central park, holding flowers under her chin to catch the buttery glow of their reflection on her skin in spring. It’s the sunlight catching on the rogue strands of her hair, transforming it to spun gold in summer.
It’s all of those things and so much more.
Avery hums softly as we unpack in our new home together. I recognize the tune, and it makes my heart slow down. Bizarre how a piece of music can have such an instant, calming effect on a person, but Blackbird by the Beatles has always had this power over me. Avery thinks she can’t sing, thinks she has a terrible voice, but that isn’t the truth. She has a wonderfully soft, warm way of singing when she thinks no one is paying attention. I listen to the gentle rise and fall of her voice as she absentmindedly flows through the notes of the song, her slender fingers working quickly through stacks of her father’s old records that she had freighted here from Wyoming.
I have to pinch myself. Life just feels so goddamn perfect. The band is already signed with Klaxon Records, and our new band manager, Marcy, is terrifyingly smart and blunt to the point of rudeness, but I trust her. She’s not about polls and commercial viability. She’s about artistic voice and your message as a musician, no matter how confronting and outlandish that message might be. On top of that, Avery is already well into the new college year, and she’s flying academically. I’m so fucking proud of her.
I lean back against the kitchen counter, hands in my pockets, and I take a moment to enjoy watching my Iris. She’s chosen a new name for herself and I respect her wishes, calling her Avery and never missing a beat these days. But sometimes, I like to remember Iris. Max Breslin was a remarkable man. His face would light up when he spoke about something that excited him, and his eyes never shone as brightly as they did when he spoke about his little girl. It would be sad if she were forgotten entirely.
She doesn’t even realize I’ve stopped working and I’m watching her as she bends over boxes and opens each one methodically, pausing to run her fingertips over the contents of her past. She sends me a sweet smile when I collect up my acoustic guitar and sit down on the floor beside her, though.
“Are you going to serenade me?” she whispers.
I nod. My left hand works the chord progression of Blackbird easily, and my right hand plucks out the melody. Avery stops what she’s doing and watches me with tears in her eyes, and she is so fucking beautiful in that moment that I find my own eyes stinging. I’ll never want more than this. I’ll never ask for anything else so long as I have this strange and fascinating creature to love and hold and protect.
Moving slowly, Avery crosses the room and picks up the small guitar her father bought me to practice on when I was still a boy. She took it when she moved out of my place, and I thought it was simply as a reminder of her father. I’m stunned when she sits down in front of me and begins to play along.
She’s not perfect. She fumbles and she’s scared—I can see the fear in her eyes—so I slow down. Together, we start from the beginning and we move through the song without saying a word.
We don’t need to sing the lyrics. We both know them intimately, and they have never been more appropriate.
We’re mending our broken wings.
Side by side, we’re learning to fly.
All our lives, we’ve been waiting for this moment to arrive.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Frankie Rose started out writing young adult paranormal and dystopian romance novels in 2012. Since then, she has subsequently dipped her toes into dark and contemporary romance as well. Under her pen name, Callie Hart, Frankie has enjoyed immense success with her Blood & Roses, Chaos & Ruin and Dead Man’s Ink series. If you enjoy a dark, twisty and very sexy tale, then you should check them out!
Book one in the Blood & Roses series, Deviant, is FREE right now! CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD NOW!
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Kirsten Strombergh-Bumpus, I don’t think I would have ever finished this book if you didn’t tell me daily that I could! I feel very blessed to have met such a confident, happy, enthusiastic and positive person. Not to mention your organisation skills are the bomb!
Gemma Sherlock, you were my first ever partner in crime. I can’t remember a time when you weren’t there, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re a fantastic big sister, and you’re a kick ass PA. I’d be lost without you.
Jenny Watson! (Her name must always be said in full) Jenn, thank you so much for sorting out my entire life over the past few weeks. I’ve been drowning in PR work for such a long time that I completely forgot what it felt like to sit back and enjoy simply writing. You’ve given that back to me, and it’s an immense gift.
Jessica Roscoe A.K.A Lili Saint Germain, you always have and always will be my girl! Thanks for all of the awesome adventures and ridiculous laughs we had in 2015 while I was writing Summer in between our excursions (and sometimes also on them). You keep me sane. God knows how you manage it, but you do. Here’s to more shenanigans in 2016!
Fiona Wilson, my eagle-eyed proofer, thank you so much for doing such a stellar job as always with my manuscript! I can’t recommend you highly enough.
Kylie Sharp, Emma Keating and Gemma Curran, my head street team girls! Thank you for all of your wonderful, kind words, your lovely messages, your constant and genuine support, for beta reading, for feedback, for advice…for everything! You girls really are my A-Team. I love you so very much. Thank you for having my back!
Lastly, thank you to you, my readers. I know I kept you waiting a while for this book, and for that I apologise. You have been patient to a fault, however, and I’m very grateful for your support, and for the love you have shown these characters.
Many of you might be wondering why the first book, Winter, was followed directly by Summer, and I’d like to address that briefly to avoid confusion. In 2017, Noah will get his own book. At some point, following that, Cole will also be getting his own book as well. For the time being, Avery and Lucas’s story has come to an end, but that doesn’t mean that they won’t be featured in further books later on down the track.
Once again, thank you for reading. I still have to pinch myself on a daily basis in order to remind myself that I get to do this writing thing for a living. It’s the most rewarding,
precious, gratifying thing in the world, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
FRANKIE’S NEWSLETTER LOTTERY
As a token of her appreciation for reading and supporting her work, at the end of every month, Frankie and her team will be hosting a HUGE giveaway with a mass of goodies up for grabs, including vouchers, e-readers, signed books, signed swag, author event tickets and exclusive paperback copies of stories no one else in the world will have access to!
All you need to do to automatically enter each month is be signed up to Callie Hart’s newsletter (Frankie’s pen name), which you can do right here: http://eepurl.com/IzhzL
*The monthly giveaway is international. Prizes will be subject to change each month. First draw will be taking place on Nov 30 2015, and continue at the end of each month thereafter!!!
Tell Me Your Favorite Bits!
Don’t forget! If you purchased Summer and loved it, then please do stop over to your online retailer of choice and let me know which were your favorite parts! Reading reviews is the highlight of any author’s day.
