If you haven’t heard the news, I have a new book on the horizon: Into the Light. It’s the long-awaited sequel to Into the Fire. Like the others, you can expect it to be fun and flirty with a little bit of heat and a whole lot of heart. This book is a second chance romance that follows former lovers Shay Woodward and Jeremy McAllister—and their journey back to one another.
Enjoy a sneak peek of Chapter 1 below!
The Beginning of the End
Growing up, my mother always warned me about the perils of spending too long in the sun. As someone who saw the glass half empty, she was focused on the damage it could cause. The sun will wreak havoc on your skin, she used to tell me as she ticked the reasons off on her perfectly manicured fingers: pre-mature wrinkles, sunburn, age spots, and heaven forbid, freckles. Most of her concerns were connected to appearance, naturally. Because my mother was all about appearances. I never could grasp how something so bright and beautiful could be harmful. At a young age I understood it was all about moderation and taking the necessary precautions, like wearing sunscreen. But moderation is a concept Eleanor Woodward never quite grasped. Things were always black and white for her with no in-between. I never saw things that way—I chose to live my life in a rainbow of colors.
Looking back, I wonder if she knew, and perhaps, she was preparing me. I used to love spending my days in the sun, absorbing its rays until my skin was golden brown. As a young girl, I’d mourn those hours when the sun went to sleep, eager to bask in her glory once a new day dawned. Now all I want is the blackness of night. It’s funny how light and dark are opposites, but they are also co-dependent. One can’t exist without the other. I understand the concept fully. How you come to rely on someone until you can’t function without them, and when they leave, they leave you in darkness. And yet the sun keeps rising.
Now the sun’s brightness is no longer beautiful, but blinding. You no longer want to be reminded of her promise or optimism. You know it no longer applies to you. So, in my case, I choose to draw the shades and block out the light. The room is cloaked in darkness and I relish in the stillness—the only sound the steady beeping of my heartrate monitor. I’m surprised it’s still registering a signal, because it feels as if my heart has been ripped to shreds. I blink my eyes a few times and they slowly adjust to my surroundings. There’s a faint glow from the machinery next to my bed and the crack under the door, casting an eerie shadow across the room. I kind of like it—it’s fitting. There’s a knock at the door, which I ignore. My mother is the only visitor I’ve had, and the one person I don’t want to see.
“Time for breakfast, Victoria.” A nurse pushes her way in with a tray and sets it down in front of me. All the staff here refer to me as Victoria. I don’t bother to correct them. I eye the pancakes, melon, and carton of orange juice but turn away.
“You know you need to eat something so you can get on home.”
“I know.” I also know home is the last place I want to be.
She continues chattering on in a too cheery voice that it’s a beautiful day outside as she attempts to open the blinds.
“Leave them.”
“Victoria, you’ve been sitting here in the dark for days. I think some sunshine would do you good.”
“No.”
She hesitates but obeys my wishes.
“Today’s a special day for you.” She waits for some sort of acknowledgment. When I don’t respond she plows on. “Happy eighteenth birthday.”
I didn’t even know it was today. Since I’ve been here the days have blended together. I shrug, unable to form an appropriate response.
“It’s a new beginning for you.” She places her hand on my arm and I wince, which she mistakes as a response to her touch.
“How’s your pain level today?”
Excruciating. “The same.”
She nods as she adjusts the meds in my IV. “This should help.”
If only I could tell her that the pain isn’t from the accident at all, but rather, the aftermath. Still, I welcome the relief that flows through my veins, causing my limbs and eyelids to grow heavy. Pretty soon I will drift off into my fantasy world, and then I can see him again. Jeremy McAllister: my first and only love. I’ll see those emerald green eyes that sparkled with mischief. Those perfect lips that somehow electrified my whole body. Those hands that held mine and seemed to take on the weight of the world. I’ll remember the way his boyish smile made my heart race and the bright future we had planned. I’ll remember it all the way I want to: in the before. Because now it’s all been ripped away.
As I hover on the brink of consciousness, I wish I could stay here forever, in this cocoon that’s shielding me from the harsh reality that is my life. Or the end of it. Because when I leave this hospital room I’ll be going home alone. How can I tell her this isn’t the life I had planned? That I want to rewind. That this is not a new beginning, but the beginning of the end.
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