Brenda, I have been so lucky to have you in my life during this journey. Your messages and texts never fail to bring a smile to my face. For taking the formatting nightmare off my hands, and being the best damn pimp I ever did meet!
Chelcie! I love you. You know this, but just in case you forgot . . . you are one sexy bitch!
JB, thank you for making two of the most beautiful covers, and for putting up with my crazy!
Melissa Gill-I love you! Like really. My Swag Slinger. My graphic queen. I am so glad that we have become great friends!
To my street team AND my babes! Believing in me, my boys and pimping me hard! BEST LADIES EVER!
Each and every reader, reviewer, blogger, fan. This wouldn’t be anything without you. I wouldn’t be living my dreams without the support that you have given me. Your messages, comments and reviews make this worth it. I love you all.
To the dentist and hygienist and ladies over at Vassey Dental. (A big shout out to Dr. Harrah and Dr. Naik. Michele and Phyllis.) Without your torture **kidding** I doubt I would have these books done right now. No one likes going to the dentist, but I love going to mine!
BECK PLAYLIST
Sam Grow- Shot of Crown
Sam Grow- Fall to Me
Miguel- Adorn
Creed- With Arms Wide Open
The Lumineers- Stubborn Love
Bonnie Raitt- I Can’t Make You Love Me
Justin Timberlake- Drink You Away
The CO- Keep it Together
John Newman- Love Me Again
Avicii- Addicted to You
Halestorm- Beautiful With You
Jason Mraz- I Won’t Give Up
Papa Roach- Last Resort
Johnny Cash- Hurt
Seether- Broken
A Great Big World- Say Something
Ciara- Love Sex Magic
System of a Down- Toxicity
Saving Abel- Addicted
Little Mix- Cannonball
Bruno Mars- Gorilla
To Danielle Calcote.
For keeping me sane and laughing at my insane! Even if your taste in sweaters is questionable . . . I still consider myself blessed to have you as a friend, beta, and right-hand!
PROLOGUE
“Denise, you need to stop this nonsense. A girl your age needs to show some maturity and stop being so needy. You are perfectly capable of keeping yourself occupied. This is a big night for your father; you could try and be a little supportive.” She turns her perfectly painted face back to the mirror, applying more of her make-up. I have always wondered how she is able to get all that make-up on when her face never really moves. Her weekly appointments at the spa take care of the wrinkles that I’ve never been able to find.
“But Mother, tonight’s my chorus recital at school,” I whisper meekly. Even at thirteen, I know I should stand up for myself, but I just can’t seem to do that with my mother, the ice queen. “How am I supposed to get there?”
Before I can react, her hand cracks against my cheek. “Don’t be such an ungrateful brat, Denise. Some children can only dream of living the life we have given you. I don’t want to hear another word from you tonight. Go on up to your room.”
Blinking back the wetness that rushes to my eyes, I back up slowly, keeping my eyes trained on my mother. I don’t realize I have been holding my breath until I bump into the hard, unforgiving body standing behind me.
“What have you done now, Denise?” My father’s deep baritone rumbles through the room. A cold ribbon of fear snakes down my back. I brace myself for his anger as I turn to face him.
“I’m sorry, Father. I just wanted to ask Mother about my chorus recital. I’m supposed to be at the school in an hour.” I don’t dare break eye contact with my father. No one would dare. He demands your full attention and respect. I will give him my attention, but before I started middle school, I learned he didn’t deserve my respect.
“You stupid little girl. I’ve told you, extracurricular activities should be things that can further your career. Things like chorus aren’t going to take you on the path to greatness. First thing Monday, I want you to speak with your teachers about dropping that.”
My insides seize, because I knew better than to even mention the recital, and I still did it. I should just fake a sickness Monday at school. For the last year, I’ve been successful in keeping my ‘fun time’ hidden from my parents. They don’t care what I am doing. They don’t want me, so they’ve never even noticed.
“Am I understood, Denise?” His tone has a sharper edge to it, and I know this is not a point to drag my feet on.
“Yes, Sir,” I reply. “May I be excused?” I just want to get away. Away from their room, them, and this life that they say I should be grateful to have. Who would be grateful for this? Two parents that don’t want you. All the money in the world, but no happiness? I would rather be living in the slums.