This summer these two broken souls discover if your second love can make
you forget your first
Growing up, the Morelli brothers were close
Their kinship sinks deeper than the Titanic the summer they both fall for
the same girl. Zakiah always felt Iliana Kaplan’s heart belonged to him. All
along, it has been their story, until fate removed the blindfold.
Everything falls apart when Zakiah realizes Iliana will never give him her
whole heart. This time, the middle brother, Elijah, won’t be able to repair
the damage. A rift is torn amid all of them, and nothing will ever be the
same again.
Two years later, when love comes knocking on his door, Zakiah strays from
his motto. He can’t pretend the connection he feels with Glory Glover isn’t
real. He just can’t afford to fall victim to love again—already
learned that lesson the hard way.
Life drops the other shoe. When his dad reveals who his betrothed is,
there’s no running from what fate has in store. Can your second love make
you forget your first? Zakiah must decide if love only exists in fairytales.
No matter what choice he makes, it won’t be easy to find what’s truly his to
behold.
What happened in the spring might’ve made him forget his summertime dreams,
but reality rarely has a silver lining.
About the Author
B. Truly has wanted to be an author since she was fifteen years old. She is grateful to have accomplished this dream. B. Truly has very vivid dreams and a wild imagination. She likes to read, watch tons of TV shows, and movies. She’s addicted to romance and gets a thrill out of suspense and sci-fi. She writes young adult, new adult, and adult romance, sci-fi, dystopian, paranormal, and urban genres.
B. Truly likes to explore conflicted plots of romance with thrilling twists. She also loves creating impossible situations for her characters to grow from and try to overcome.
B. Truly has three wonderful children, and a husband who defines the person
that she is today. She works full-time as an Ultrasound technologist in Houston, Texas.
Some heroes have swords. Essimore Darkenchyl has a pen. But it’s a magic pen. Some wizards have spellbooks. Essie has Gossen’s Guide to Shipping Law. But it’s a current edition. Some sailors have . . . experience. Essie has a new diploma and a year-long contract, and her people have won wars with less. And that’s good, because between stolen weapons, a coup, and a strange disease creeping in around her and the crew, she might need to win a war. In a world that blends traditional fantasy with the Age of Exploration, Essie knows a pen is mightier than a sword, especially since hers sometimes shoots lightning. But what she thinks is a routine political dispute turns out to be something much, much more, and she may have finally met the one problem she can’t talk her way out of.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
Essie cleared her throat. From her backpack, she removed the letter of service that granted her travel permission to sail on the ship. It was folded neatly into thirds, with a glittering blue wax seal on it.
“Essimore Darkenchyl at your service, sir. I’m your new fully licensed shipping coordinator with Power of the Pen. It’s an honor to be aboard.”
The captain took the letter without opening it, folded it in half with no regard for the beautiful wax seal, folded it messily again, and jammed it into his pocket. The whole time, Essie winced.
“Right-o.” As he smiled, the older man’s cheeks dimpled and his white teeth shined in the sun. “Well, I thought we were leaving without you, but here you are. Good on you. Great. Yeah.” The captain turned to the teenager at his side. “Grab her bag and get her stuff to her room. She can hang out there til dinner.”
As the teenager shouldered her bag and grunted, she and the captain looked at each other, the captain with his beaming smile. Once the teenager left, she said, “Thanks for welcoming me onto your ship.”
“Yeah. Fully licensed, you say?”
“Absolutely!”
“Okay. Have a nice one. See you at dinner.”
“Don’t we need to . . . uh . . . onboard?”
“You’re already on board. You managed that just fine.”
The captain’s smile faded, but reappeared so fast she wasn’t sure if she’d seen it go.
“Okay, fine. Let’s talk in my cabin.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author Interview
Did you always want to be a writer?
When I was very young (like, too young!) I read Michael Crichton’s Travels, which taught me that being a writer was a job you could actually do. Since then, I’ve wanted to do it. I’ve worked in journalism and non-fiction, but never had the chance to really focus on fiction until recently.
If you could visit any country or city in the world, where would you go and why?
I’d go to Ireland. It’s where my ancestors are from. People in the town in Mexico where I live are very connected to their ancestors, but I’m a bit more of a rambler, so it’d be nice to get to know where I’m from. I’d hate to be one of those people that shows up in Ireland like “HEY I’M IRISH TOO!” though, so if I ever do go, I don’t think I’ll tell anyone my ancestry …
What do you love most about crafting your stories?
That’s such a hard question! I’m lucky in that I’m apparently one of the few writers that likes editing. I mean, it’s frustrating when you’ve edited something so many times and you notice a comma splice or something, but I feel like editing is a great way to spend more time with your characters. You’ve already got the hard part–the manuscript is there–but now you get to play around with them. Change their dialog a little so it fits them better, get more of their personality in their body language, make them more dynamic, all that kind of thing. I liken it to playing with dolls. Writing the first draft is like building a doll, which is fun in its own way. But editing a manuscript is actually getting to play with the doll.
Do you consider yourself a plotter or a pantser?
I recently heard the term “plantser” and have embraced it pretty hard. At the beginning of a new project, I type out chapter headers and a one-line summary of what I hope to cover in each chapter. Then I set the characters loose, and if I’m getting the vibe that based on their personalities they won’t hit certain goals or they’ll hit them in different ways than I expected, that’s totally fine.
What’s the one thing you hope readers take away from your book?
I hope it’s fun and entertaining. I honestly don’t think it’s the kind of book you’re going to remember ten years from now, but it is the kind of book that will distract you from stress about your job or money or whatever.
When you’re writing, do you prefer background noise or silence?
I often create these super-rich, long, detailed playlists on Spotify, then never actually use them during the writing process. This is partly because my writing tends to happen on breaks from work, etc. As a parent with two jobs, I rarely get fixed “writing times.” But ideally, I like to have music playing while I’m writing.
Where do you typically find inspiration for your stories?
I tend to be character-focused, so my ideas usually start with the main character. They tend to be at least partially based on people I know. (As you can imagine, my favorite of my characters is the one in this novel, who is based on my wife.) When it comes to plot and setting, I draw on my knowledge of anthropology to create worlds that make sense for the character. Since I tend to flesh out my worlds using an anthropological process, the most important thing is who the character is and how they relate to their world. I also tend to be of the “write what you know” school, and since I live in the rainforest a lot of my stories have jaguars, colorful birds, etc.
Any advice for aspiring authors?
Run Dungeons and Dragons (or whatever TTRPG of your choice). This will force you to think about narrative, but it will also force you to throw all your notes away and make up something new when the players do something unexpected. It’ll also show you what other people like about your narrative style.
I tend to think of my main character like a player character and the other characters as non-player characters. This means the main character has a lot more ability to change my narrative than the “NPCs.” I’ve been complimented on the depth in my minor characters, and I think a big part of that is being comfortable making up backstories for NPCs on the spot.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Zac Lindsey is an anthropologist and a linguist who focuses on the Maya people of Quintana Roo. Since childhood, he’s had a not-so-secret love of weird, silly, and well-structured fantasy. When other people’s parents were reading them picture books, his mom was reading him Terry Brooks. He typically writes hopeful and character-driven fantasy.
Today, he lives in Quintana Roo, Mexico with his wife, daughter, and various stray cats.
The Waters’ are a strong, prominent black family in Philadelphia with
access to the good life. Money, power, and lack of respect flow through the
tight-knit family as destruction threatens to rock the foundation they are
all trying to keep together.
Judge Waters and his wife, Lillian, work overtime to save their marriage,
but when hatred and bitterness take over, all bets are off. Once the
fighting starts, their children Keenan Jr., Naomi, and Saint go off into the
world, wearing their parent’s drama as a coat of arms. They then lie,
cheat, and steal, causing havoc in the lives they come across, just like
their mother and father taught them to do.
Ultimately, damaging secrets and decade-old lies will all come crashing
down around them. When death comes knocking, The Waters Family and their
shattered fate hang in the balance, wondering what’s coming next . .
.
About the Author
Nick Haskins is the author of My Husband’s Wife, Betrayed,
She’s Obsessed, and his new book series, Dark Waters, dropping this
summer. Nick was born and raised in Toledo, Ohio, where he currently
resides. After years of aspiring to become a professional screenwriter, he
began to shape his creative dreams and released his first African American
fiction book, On the Edge of Heat, in 2011. In addition, Nick has been
actively working on his first feature film and developing a new streaming
series.
Readers can visit Nick’s website at http://www.nickhaskinsbooks.com, email
him at nickhaskinsbooks@gmail.com, or follow him on social media
@iamnickhaskins
After an unfortunate mishap, Robbie has to learn how to use his Command abilities. Just when he thinks that it’s safe to turn them off entirely, he is challenged in a way he never imagined and is faced with the decision to use his abilities or lose his beloved cousin for good. His growth puts a strain on his budding relationship with Theo who is already stretched thin with his own dilemmas. Will the couple grow from their individual struggles, or will this be a final dividing point?
This is the third book in the Crossing Nüwa series and a continuation of Robbie and Theo’s relationship growth and struggles.
“Oh shit!” I cursed, spitting out the flavor of another man’s unwanted lips on mine and chafing my lips as I fervently wiped my mouth on my sleeve.
With small bony hands, he grabbed both of my arms. “Robbie,” Brent said. His high-pitched nasally voice, which had always annoyed me a little, now grated on every nerve. “You know you want me as much as I want you. Stop playing hard to get.”
I couldn’t believe this was happening. At school! I glanced around the empty college hallway for anyone to potentially save me, but classes were in session. I felt more than saw Brent lunge in for another kiss, and my lua training kicked in. Thrusting into his solar plexus with one palm, I snatched his wrist and wrenched. As he fell, I twisted him, catching his chin in my left hand, and by stretching him out I was able to face him away from me.
“Oooo,” Brent cooed, kneeling from the ground. “You like it rough. Robbie, I never knew.”
Disgusted, I dropped him and tripped back into the wall. “I thought we were friends,” I managed pathetically. Confusion swirled around me. We were supposed to be on the way to class. We were supposed to be working on a project for class. We were supposed to be studying for finals. We were supposed to be doing anything but what he had just done. Brent had been my closest friend since I started college. While he had asked me out that first week, he backed off when I told him I had a boyfriend.
Brent pulled his small frame up, standing and looking up at me with a twisted smile that made me cringe. “You know we’re more than that. I don’t know what you see in that fat dude you call a boyfriend. You’re so much hotter than that. Deserve someone like me. Come on; let’s cut biology and get out of here? They know we’re working on that project anyway.”
I caught him as he moved in again. The scent of his sauerkraut-covered hot dog lunch wafted from his breath, making me shudder in revulsion. “Just stop!” I shouted, not caring if someone overheard, and pushed him back with all my strength.
He hit the other wall looking stunned and then slumped to the ground.
“Oh,” I exhaled. Nüwa are stronger than humans. What if I…?
Bending down, I gingerly pushed him, almost expecting a horror film scene of him grappling me down. He just rolled over, looking peacefully asleep.
Scrambling, I stumbled away. And then ran.
Chapter Two
Compartmentalize, compartmentalize, compartmentalize, I chanted to myself. Brent was okay. I had just knocked him out. Someone would come along and find him passed out in the hall. Or he’d wake up and…and what? Call me? I glanced apprehensively at the phone mounted to the overly cheerful artichoke-shaped charging station in our kitchen.
I had thrown myself into cooking the moment I got home. Ms. Gomez, our live-in housekeeper and cook, kindly let me use the kitchen while she took off to the store. The new pasta maker I got online dominated my attention until it started slipping back to Brent. Maggie’s voice rung out in my mind, reminding me to compartmentalize—to put this experience in another box in my mind. And shut it. Lock it. Learning to tuck away the memories from childhood that left me feeling vulnerable had kept me sane this past year.
The memory of holding my mother’s lifeless body after she had sacrificed herself to save me came unbidden to my mind, and once again, I was awash with that guilt. The deep cleansing breath helped to center me, and I imagined settling the top on that box again.
As I thought more about it, it seemed like I was compartmentalizing other things too. The time we spent in San Diego lived in one box and my time spent in the oasis of my home with Theo in yet another. I found that I was a different person in each context. With Theo I was most at ease. He knew me better than anyone, even Maggie, though I had spared him the sordid details about my childhood. There was never any guesswork with Theo. He loved me unconditionally and was always there for me. I could be myself with Maggie and Abi, too, but felt a wall with them. I know it’s because they’re women and Nüwa, and Mother and my aunt instilled in me a fear of both and an internal need to be deferential. So, I knew what the wall was; I just didn’t see a way of getting past it. And part of me didn’t want to. They were both amazing, and loving, and kind. And nothing at all like Mother and my aunt. So, they deserved my respect and deference.
And college was another box. I groaned loudly, channeling my fury into my whisk, hitting the sides of the bowl in a frenzy. The cream sauce I was making from scratch for the Italian sausage lasagna spun around in a vortex inside the bowl. How could I go back if Brent was there? The idea of confronting him… But the idea of not going back to college left me with a sense of dread.
“Hey ya, sugar.”
I let out a yelp and spun around to see Theo casually leaning on the counter. How long had he been there?
“What’s up?” His question had a cautious tone.
“Cooking,” I muttered, turning my back to him and focusing on pouring the sauce into the pan that I had already layered with pasta, meat, and cheese. Heat stained my cheeks with just the thought of telling Theo about the kiss.
The weight of his stare on my back was a tangible thing, and I was relieved when his phone sounded. He let it ring longer than he normally would, but then answered and left. Relief slumped my shoulders. I would put this whole thing in a box. The Brent box. It belonged on a shelf with all the other bad memories and mistakes. Tonight, I was going to have dinner with my family: Kat and Theo. But first, I would need to meditate and get calm. All this rumination was getting me absolutely nowhere.
Connal Braginsky is a software engineer who lives in San Diego, California. Diagnosed with high functioning autism, Connal sometimes struggles in social situations, but has an inner world that is always incredibly rich. With an insatiable thirst for knowledge about many esoteric things, Connal brings a lot of personal philosophies and interests to writing.
Sean Ian O’Meidhir is a psychologist who lives in San Francisco, California. Sean is a hedonist who believes in living for today, living every day to the fullest, and enjoying as much as possible. They have been gaming since adolescence and have written about and played hundreds of lives, revelling in the chance to take on new personalities, dramas, even disorders.
