Authors: Sarah Dosher
“You’re gonna do great, ya know?” I told him as I let my body melt into his, hoping to give him a small amount of courage I knew he needed.
“No matter what happens, I’m happy. With, or without any recognition, everything is perfect.” He stated. I smiled, nodding at him because I felt the exact same way.
A scantily dressed blonde Amazonian woman showed us to our seats that were far too close to the stage for Deacon’s liking. But I took it as a sign they knew he’d need to walk up on stage to accept his award.
Thankfully, Deacon was in the aisle seat because he couldn’t sit still. His leg was constantly bouncing, while his hands were wringing. I finally placed my hand on his leg and began rubbing it, trying to soothe him, but it wasn’t working. I knew he was nervous about the award, but most of all he was nervous about being on stage, in the spotlight. He didn’t like that level of attention, preferring to stay back in the shadows, but here he’d have the attention shining brightly on him.
Finally, it was time to present Deacon’s award category. They read the list of nominees as I waited breathlessly, perched on the edge of my seat with Deacon’s hand tightly grasping mine.
“And the award for Breakout Guitarist of the Year goes to…Deacon Chastain.”
The room filled with applause and everyone around us stood to congratulate him. Deacon didn’t move an inch. I stood and pulled him to his feet along with me.
“Baby, it’s you. You won.” I told him over the clapping and cheers.
“What?” He asked, complete shock on his face.
I smiled, “You, baby, you won. Go get your award.” I said and lightly pushed him toward the aisle.
He squeezed my hand even tighter as he turned to take his first steps, pulling me along with him. I tried to wiggle my hand from his, but he wouldn’t let go.
“If I’m going up there, you are, too. We’re in it together.” He whispered in my ear.
My eyes nervously looked around at the confused faces watching us climb the stairs and move toward the microphone.
“Deacon Chastain.” The announcer said once again and was followed by more applause.
My hand was finally released when they handed Deacon his award. I moved to the side trying to hide behind another blonde, Amazonian girl. I saw Willow in the crowd, pointing and laughing at me, and I vowed to strangle her the minute I escaped.
The ovation died down as everyone waited for Deacon’s acceptance speech. Several seconds ticked by before he spoke.
“Thank you,” he finally said. “You’ll never know what this award means to a man who’s spent his whole life chasing a dream.”
He paused and inhaled deeply before turning and putting his hand out for me to take. I moved closer and placed my trembling hand in his as he pulled me close to his side.
“This is my breath, my heart, my life—without which I would have nothing.”
And they lived happily ever after…
The Freaking End!
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
First and foremost, thank you to my family for supporting me every step of the way in pursuing my writing dream. It isn’t always easy living with someone that has more than one voice in their head at a time, thank you for putting up with me…always.
To my fellow authors that I have come to call friends, thank you for being there no matter the time or how stupid the question. I would have never made it this far without you. Also, thank you for living your dream and in turn helping inspire mine.
To my betas – Elle, Julie, Jenni, Kate, Debi, and Mindi. Each of you push me to be a better writer and you are irreplaceable - even if I don’t always want to hear what you have to say.
Thank you to all the blogs that offer support and encouragement so freely. Your tireless efforts and dedication are what keep the indie world spinning.
Thank you Sommer at Perfect Pear Creative Covers. You are a creative genius.
Thank you Raelene at wordplay by 77peaches. You and your thesaurus complete me.
Thank you Kate and Levi, you are the perfect cover models. Thank you Laurie for capturing them on film.
And thank you to each and every reader that continues to support and encourage me.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sarah Dosher was born and raised in rural Oklahoma where she currently resides with her cowboy husband and twins (one cowboy and one cowgirl). She spends her day slaving away in healthcare and her nights pouring her heart out to her keyboard. She is addicted to books and The Golden Girls. Her love for reading inspired her to start her writing journey.
You can find her at:
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/authorsarahdosher
Twitter:
@sarahdosher
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