Title: Fragments
Series: Running on Empty #1
Author: M.R. Field
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: December 8, 2014
Blurb
Trice
Under the lights, amongst the jazz shoes, blistered feet and caked faces of the dance troupe, you pretend you’re someone else. The melody begins and your body responds. You allow it to weave into your skin until it’s made itself home in your soul. It is that dance that drives you. It is that dance that will continue to save you. It is that dance that will release you.
Until him.
Until your heart can no longer shut him out, even after he’s pushed you away.
You can’t let him in again, can you? There’s only so much of your heart left to give.
Alex
She is the reason I can’t stay. The reason that the covered bruises, the lies and the hurt are too much. I am no good for her. But when I see her again, I can’t stay away. Like Dante said, “The path to paradise begins in hell.”
Links to Buy
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Excerpt
Alex
I locked my door and turned on my stereo, I was in the mood for some loathing. Rotating the multidisc, I selected Rod Zombie’s Astro-Creep, and reached under my bed for the hidden bottle of my father’s Wild Turkey. It was my shitty attempt at keeping some alcohol out of his hands. I twisted the cap off and put the bottle to my lips, preparing myself for the path to self-destruction.
I picked up my foam football and began to toss it up and down in the air. I pressed the bottle to my lips and sucked back another gulp. The whiskey burned as it tore down my throat and wrestled with my insides.
“Bye Alex,” my mother shouted through the door. “We’ll see you Thursday.”
“Yeah, see ya,” I shouted, giving the door the bird. I gargled another mouthful of bourbon. I really should have mixed this with Coke, but I couldn’t be bothered.
Rod Zombie’s voice filled the room and my head banged while I sung the lyrics. When my mum was this happy, it pissed me off. He’d bought her over, again. With that thought, I took another swig and felt the effects of the alcohol sending tingles across my skin. Another trip, another injury paid for. What did he do last time? I ground my teeth as I blocked that night out. I want to feel numb. The tingles continued to crawl up my skin. Mission accomplished.
That was it. I’d decided. Back to meaningless sex. Or sex without a girlfriend tag attached. I swung again, sending the amber liquid down. My mouth burned. I studied the label closely. How can people drink this shit?
Girlfriends were too much hard work, or better yet, conniving lying bitches. And friends who were girls? Girls you’d known forever? Well fuck—they were even worse. Gripping the football, I squeezed it until my hand whitened and let it go. I watched it fall to the floor. I smacked my lips together as they numbed. Girls. Friends. You trusted the ones you hung out with, and then they dropped you like a sack of shit. Giving you the freeze out. Bring back the easy lays.
My vision blurred as the posters on my wall went out of focus. I lifted the bottle and inspected it. Half empty. That was quick. Shrugging, I took another swig and tried to focus on my posters. Dad was gonna be pissed that I nicked his bottle. I nodded and chuckled. It would be great to piss him off. No, Alex, it would not. My fuckin’ conscience had decided to join in. Piss off, conscience.
I stared into space as images of Bea began flicking through my mind. Her tear-stained face, her angry eyes in her room, her being thrown
I locked my door and turned on my stereo, I was in the mood for some loathing. Rotating the multidisc, I selected Rod Zombie’s Astro-Creep, and reached under my bed for the hidden bottle of my father’s Wild Turkey. It was my shitty attempt at keeping some alcohol out of his hands. I twisted the cap off and put the bottle to my lips, preparing myself for the path to self-destruction.
I picked up my foam football and began to toss it up and down in the air. I pressed the bottle to my lips and sucked back another gulp. The whiskey burned as it tore down my throat and wrestled with my insides.
“Bye Alex,” my mother shouted through the door. “We’ll see you Thursday.”
“Yeah, see ya,” I shouted, giving the door the bird. I gargled another mouthful of bourbon. I really should have mixed this with Coke, but I couldn’t be bothered.
Rod Zombie’s voice filled the room and my head banged while I sung the lyrics. When my mum was this happy, it pissed me off. He’d bought her over, again. With that thought, I took another swig and felt the effects of the alcohol sending tingles across my skin. Another trip, another injury paid for. What did he do last time? I ground my teeth as I blocked that night out. I want to feel numb. The tingles continued to crawl up my skin. Mission accomplished.
That was it. I’d decided. Back to meaningless sex. Or sex without a girlfriend tag attached. I swung again, sending the amber liquid down. My mouth burned. I studied the label closely. How can people drink this shit?
Girlfriends were too much hard work, or better yet, conniving lying bitches. And friends who were girls? Girls you’d known forever? Well fuck—they were even worse. Gripping the football, I squeezed it until my hand whitened and let it go. I watched it fall to the floor. I smacked my lips together as they numbed. Girls. Friends. You trusted the ones you hung out with, and then they dropped you like a sack of shit. Giving you the freeze out. Bring back the easy lays.
My vision blurred as the posters on my wall went out of focus. I lifted the bottle and inspected it. Half empty. That was quick. Shrugging, I took another swig and tried to focus on my posters. Dad was gonna be pissed that I nicked his bottle. I nodded and chuckled. It would be great to piss him off. No, Alex, it would not. My fuckin’ conscience had decided to join in. Piss off, conscience.
I stared into space as images of Bea began flicking through my mind. Her tear-stained face, her angry eyes in her room, her being thrown
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