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Little Conversations
by
Sybilla Matilde
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Synopsis ~
****
Mature Content, Sexual Situations, Adult Situations, Alcohol Abuse, Emotional
Abuse, Strong Language *****
Eighteen-year-old Devin McKay is a complete and total emotional wreck. Fresh out of high school and on her own for the first time in her life, she’s reeling from rejection of a relationship gone very, very bad. Emotionally battered and tormented by the pull of her narcissistic first love, she wants to make a clean break in a small mountain town where he is everywhere... with his new girlfriend.
Ronin Andrews is still battling his own cataclysmic ghosts. He recoils from anything heartfelt, choosing instead to work hard and live wild. Outside of his job, parties and causal hooks-ups are his life until Devin walks in. With her short skirt and her sad green eyes, he can’t help but want her… badly. His protective streak wants to provide her with a haven, to shelter and sustain her.
Through a flash of torrid intensity, they struggle to be friends... just friends. She relies on him to nourish her shattered soul and shield her heart from the clawing, gnawing loss that has consumed her. Before long, the attraction proves too tenacious, and the passion between them becomes undeniable. But will the shadows of the past prove too much to overcome?
~ Excerpt ~
I left my past behind me, but it just violently
slammed into my future, and I am all alone. He was put away. How can this be
possible? How is he here?
The
man currently sharing the same air as me took my childhood from me. He almost
took my mother’s life. For only one of those crimes was he imprisoned.
Nevertheless, he was put away, locked up like the monster he is. I took all the
precautions I could, moving to San Diego, changing my last name. Stealing
a glance at my past, I see the heat from his eyes has not died. If anything,
the flame has grown more furious. I can’t go back there. I will not survive it
a second time. Pulling away my wandering eyes, I look straight ahead, watching
the rain as it beats down on the windshield of the car. The air is muggy, and
my head continues to thump after the blow. His hand has not left my knee, and
his overly callused fingers rub continuous circles into my thigh.
Squeezing
my eyes tight, I will myself to block his toxic words and mentally erase his
touch. My cell phone continues to ring, and I go into panic mode trying to
remember where I tossed my purse. I silently pray that it is Katie, and she
will come looking for me.
Instantly,
the flashbacks of my past that have plagued my dreams for so long are reality.
The harshness of my existence is sitting here beside me, caressing my legs and
leaning my head against his shoulder. His scent hasn’t changed. It made my
stomach churn then, and it is doing the same now. I smell whiskey, smoke, and
the strong odor of garlic on his breath. I cannot stomach his smell. With
each breath I take, the more and more I realize that I have no way out. It is
now, as it was then. My body begins to drift, and my mind begins to seek the
cold, dark unconscious where it feels the safest. I know I need to keep
fighting. I need to stay awake because if the blackness consumes me, I know I
will be his forever…
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Links to Buy ~
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About the Author ~
Sibylla
Matilde grew up in the mountain valleys of Southwest Montana, and grew up
exploring the alfalfa fields on the back of a horse. She attended a two-room schoolhouse 1st
through 6th grade where she had same teacher the whole time. Beginning at about age 12, Sibylla discovered
historical romance, feeding off of work of Jude Devereaux, Lisa Kleypas, and
Karen Robards. She loves a book that can
make the reader run the gamut of emotions, from the sweet glow of new love to
gut-wrenching heartache. She always has stories floating around in
her head, living in some fantasyland until she writes them down to free
them. She is a true romantic, a bit of a
Pollyanna, and a deeply emotional soul.
Music
is her emotional trigger. Growing up
with a Wagnarian-opera-loving mother, Sibylla grew up with music that digs deep
into her soul and pulls out emotion. The
soundtrack to her life includes different genres and generations. She looooooooves Thirty Seconds to Mars (rather
obsessively, actually) with a little Kings of Leon to mix things up, and pimps
them out regularly to all her friends through Spotify. She also enjoys watching Met Opera HD
broadcasts at her local movie theater, and hopes (listening Met?) to someday
see Diana Damrau reprise her role as Mozart’s Queen of the Night in Die
Zauberflöte – The Magic Flute.
Sibylla
lives with her husband, Mike, a man who she firmly believes saved her from her
self-destructive, hot mess self. He
makes her laugh every day, even when things seem to be falling apart around
them, and has proved to her that love really can heal a shattered soul. In 18 years, they have never had a fight, but
argue regularly with their two teenage kids who have, unfortunately, inherited
their father’s quick wit (unfortunate as it is a quick wit that Sibylla,
herself, definitely does not possess – there is a reason she is a writer and
not a stand-up comedian), and live a quiet life with their two weird little
rescued Chiweenies. Wait… teenagers and little yap-dogs? Okay, maybe not so quiet. J
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