Sweet Serendipity (34 page)
Authors: Jenna Pizzi
Ethan stood beside her and put his arm around her. “Happy anniversary” he said to her.
She looked at him and smiled. “Happy anniversary” she said back.
“If anyone had told me a couple years ago that my life would have turned out like this, I probably would have laughed at them. You amaze me on a daily basis Rebecca Roberts. I thank god every day that you came into my life.”
She hung a red ribbon on the tree branch. “Well you know what they say about this tree don’t you? They say if you’re asked out on a date under this tree, than you’ll be together forever.”
“Why, Rebecca, I thought you weren’t a superstitious person?” He teased.
“Not superstitious, lucky. You make me feel lucky.”
She leaned over and kissed him as Peyton clapped her hands in her stroller.
Writing is the best kind of therapy there is. Sometimes we take our biggest fears, or our life experiences, and happiest moments, and implement them into our stories. I’ve always been told that I live with my head in the clouds, but I’ve learned that it’s a pretty nice view from up here.
Mom, you are a survivor. You have overcome the most unmentionable trauma, a brain aneurysm. I have watched you fight for almost nine years, working so hard to reclaim your life back. You are my inspiration. I have never met anyone with such a strong spirit as you. You have taught me that I can overcome any obstacle in life, even if it doesn’t always feel that way. I will forever hold you close to my heart, and stand by your side.
Dad, dreams do come true. You will never know how much I admire you for your dedication to your family. I know it’s not the life you ever envisioned that you’d lead, but it is the one you are making the best of. You are far more loved than you’ll ever know.
To Lee, I love you. To my kids, you are the reason that I do what I do. Hidden deep within the pages of my books, is your mom. It’s up to you to someday read them and discover who I really am. I love you!
Now the fun part….Leslie “Ducky” Dover, Jimie Castillo, Tabitha Short, Carrieann Mirassol, Melissa Johnson, KB Miller, Jenny Philip, Linda Phelan, Amy Bartoli, you all play such an important role in my life and I love all of you ladies with all my heart.
From as far back as I can remember I always had a story to tell. Whether it was creating a world for my dolls, or running through the woods trying to escape the unseen forces that were after me. As I got older, I carried a notebook around with me and wrote about the life I wished I had been living. It was my escape. Even then, I didn't realize it was something I could actually put together on my own.
In high school, I discovered writers such as Dean Koontz, Nora Robert, and many more amazing authors. I would get lost in those books. The drama, the suspense, the romance, the terror, it was thrilling. I wanted to tell stories just like that. Unfortunately, life happens. Families begin, and those dreams sometimes get pushed aside while new ones arise.
It wasn't until a few years ago, another writer told me the story of how she sat in her mini-van while at her child's sports practice with a notebook, and she wrote an entire novel that became an instant bestseller. She told me it was the most thrilling thing she'd ever done, and that it was never too late to live out a dream.
I went home, set up my laptop, sat down, and wrote my first novel "The Long Road Home." I was dealing with a lot of emotions after a family tragedy and that one novel, released me from all the pain I was feeling. When I was through, the feeling of seeing my words in the palm of my hand was unlike any feeling I had ever experienced. I haven't stopped writing since. I am a storyteller. I want to create a world that will touch your heart the way mine has been touched.
For more information about me or my books, connect with me...
Check out these other amazing titles by Jenna;
Read on for a preview of L.P. Dover’s next title,
Prologue
What do you do when you have nothing else to live for? When the world closes in on you and rips your soul apart, leaving you dying and aching on the inside. How does one regain the pieces that have been scattered to the wind?
On the day I lost Carson, my world went gray and dark. The light inside me died when he was taken from me. I remember wiping the tears angrily away from my eyes as I sat there beside him. I wanted to see him clearly, to remember everything about my final moments with the man I had loved, cherished, and called my husband for the past two years. We were building a life together, and now it was going to be lost.
Holding his hand while he lay broken and battered in the hospital bed, I couldn’t begin to fathom what my life was going to be like without him. As strong as Carson was, I knew it took all of his strength to even try to hold on. I wanted to take that pain away and keep it as my own. No one should ever have to see the person they love die in front of their eyes. I knew I would never forget the love and adoration in his gaze when he spoke those final words on his last dying breath.
“I love you, Kori,” Carson says to me, his breathing raspy and forced, and I know it’s agony for him to breathe because of the broken ribs. His face is almost unrecognizable from the damage of the crash, but no matter what, I’ll always see the angelic face of my husband in my mind. My heart has broken into a million pieces just looking at him so helpless and visibly in pain. If I could trade places with him to spare him the anguish I would. A million times over I would.
“I love you so much, Carson. You can’t leave me, please don’t leave me.” I choke as a sob escapes my lips. I have to remain strong for him, but how can I when he’s facing death and I’m about to lose him. A tear escapes from the corner of his eye, and before I can speak again he grips my hand tightly.
“Shh, don’t cry. I need you to promise me …”
I lean over him, desperate to hear what he wants me to promise him. I’ll promise him anything if it will keep him here longer. “Promise you what, Carson?” I say quickly, knowing time is running out. The beeping of the machines begins to slow down … slower and slower. Breaking down into tears, I desperately try to cling onto him, to feel the life inside of him before it dies away. How can his time be up when he has so much to live for?
With quivering lips, I kiss him gently, branding the feel of him in my mind so I will always remember. Our final kiss, the last one we will share forever. His eyes flutter open one last time and on his last breath he cries, “Promise me you’ll …” But that’s as far as he gets. I sit there frozen, stunned into silence, when I see that he’s breathing no more.
“Promise you what, Carson?” I scream desperately. I need to know what he was going to say. I take his face in my hands, willing the life back into his body, but his eyes stay locked onto mine as his soul is set free. The machines begin their long and drawn out beeping, signaling the passing of my beloved husband. I am frozen in place, numb on the outside but in despair on the inside as I stare at the lifeless form of the man I have grown to love and cherish. His body is still, so very still. My tears flow like hot rivers down my cheeks, landing on his bruised face. “I love you. I will always love you,” I cry. My lungs feel constricted and the world seems to be closing in around me. I can’t breathe, I can’t think, and I sure as hell can’t believe that my husband is now gone ... forever. How am I going to face the future without him? He’s gone … and from this moment on, so is my heart.
Just when I thought moving on was possible, that day and the way it felt would come stumbling back in like a plague, consuming me with its pain. Sometimes I wanted to imagine it was all just a bad dream, but then reality would strike and the memories came flooding back of the day Carson died, and of the fear that if I ever decided to love again I’d be doomed to face the same torment. Bearing that kind of pain again was not something I wanted to endure.
Chapter One
“Are you sure you want to move back? You know, you can stay here as long as you like.” My mother’s warm face showed her concern, and if she had her way she would have made me live with her and my father forever. As much as I loved my parents, we all knew that I’d be miserable if I stayed there.
When Carson died, I decided to live with my parents for a while. I needed to get away to try to deal with my grief, but mostly I didn’t want to be alone. I had no siblings or close family in Charlotte so I had no other choice except to stay with my parents. For six months I had lived with them at their beautiful home in the historical district of Charleston, SC. I loved it there, but it was time for me to go. After loading the last of my belongings into the trunk of my car, I turned around to face my mother. I had been told I looked just like her, except for the hair color. Mine had always been a golden-blonde, whereas hers has always been a deep, chestnut brown. Also, we both happen to be as stubborn as mules, but my mother never owned up to it.
