Whiplash (12 page)

Read Whiplash Online

Authors: Yvie Towers

END OF PART ONE

 

Read on for a sneak peek at Backlash!

For my husband and children, who were forced to endure months of quick meals, mood swings, and disturbed sleep – thank you – I love you all very much - xoxoxoxo

 

 

To my dear friend, Veronica:  Thank you for being so enthused about and supportive of this project from the very beginning – this one’s all you.

 

To my other (and oldest) dear friend, Jane’t:  Thank you for promising to read this book…eventually.

 

To S.L. Walker and Ceet the Author:  Thank you both for your support, feedback, and advice.

 

To the reader:  Thank you for reading my book.

Like the story so far?  If so, get ready for the continuation, ‘Backlash.’  Also, don’t forget to leave a review on the site from which you purchased Whiplash – thank you!

 

Need a breather?  Check out my humorous short, ‘Please See Attendant’, on amazon and amazon.uk:

http://www.amazon.com/Please-See-Attendant-ebook/dp/B00EBZADEI

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Please-See-Attendant-ebook/dp/B00EBZADEI

 

Find me on facebook:
 
https://www.facebook.com/yvie.towers

Find me on goodreads:
 
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7210512.Yvie_Towers

 

Check out these other reads on amazon and amazon.uk!

 

The Accidental Killer Bundle Part 1 & 2 by S.L. Walker:

http://www.amazon.com/Accidental-Killer-Bundle-Part-ebook/dp/B00EX8QRRA

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Accidental-Killer-Bundle-Part-ebook/dp/B00EX8QRRA

 

Mentality by Ceet the Author:

http://www.amazon.com/Mentality-ebook/dp/B006K2CUXM

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Mentality-ebook/dp/B006K2CUXM

 

Thank you!

 

You know you want it… Read on for a sneak peek at Backlash! 

Prologue

 

I have the same dream three or four nights a week.   In it, my sister and I are mere children again, fighting over that barrette.  Then Mama gets whipped until she vanishes into thin air, as if she never even really existed.  Then it goes by kind of fast in a blur of leg irons, auction blocks, and dead babies; all leading up to the moment I met Julian.  That’s always where the dream stops.  I guess my mind can’t handle anything that happens after that.

Julian. The man has broken me, irreparably. I love him, but I’m not strong enough to be with him.  He makes me feel things…things one in my position shouldn’t feel.  I don’t know where I’d be or what I’d be doing right now if I hadn’t become a Devereaux slave and Julian’s pet.  Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if he’d never laid eyes on me, and other times I don’t even dare to think about it.

It’s been almost two years since I’ve seen Julian, and I can’t lie to myself and pretend that I don’t wonder if he thinks about me as often as I do him.  I hope he does – I hope he thinks about me every day, and sometimes
all
day.  Then maybe he can feel what I feel; hurt like I hurt.

On the rare occasions when my thoughts aren’t filled with Julian, Beau’s face materializes in my mind.  His eyes… I saw the hurt in them when I made my choice to be with Julian.  I know he loved me, and maybe he still does.  Beau loved me for who, not what, I was.  I only wish I were able to return even half of his adoration, but I just can’t will it so.  I do love him, but I can’t be the woman he met when I first arrived at Devereaux.  Too many changes have taken place, and too many lines have been crossed to the point where I can’t even see them in the distance anymore. 

So, here I sit; alone, in my tiny corner of the attic.  Mr. Huntington should be coming back from work soon, and I should make sure a hot meal is waiting.  It’s the least I can do for him, seeing as how he saved my life when I finally left Julian behind two years ago.  Had he not been there to pull me out of the creek, I’d have probably drowned.  Or even worse, survived and run back to Julian’s strong, soul-crushing arms.

After getting up off my sitting pillow nestled underneath the window, I head over to my little vanity and mirror to dress for dinner service.  The years have placed the lines of time on my face, and the once brilliant flicker of youth has long since left my eyes.  As I slide my bejeweled comb into the side of my hair, I can see traces of her staring back at me.  Ten years hasn’t allowed me to let go of the memory of my sister, but I’ve already given up any hope of seeing my Lily ever again.  Now, all I can do is be strong; for me, for her, and for my daughter.

 

 

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