Thank you to my early readers: Lisa Kane, Lisa Rutledge, Tracey Kruger, Dawn Martens, Aimee Pachorek, Lourdes Sanchez, America Matthew, Kim Person, Stacy Kestwick and Jennifer Wolfel. I appreciate you ladies so much for taking the time to read over my pages and for giving me insight. Your opinions are invaluable to me.
Thanks to Letitia Hasser at RBA Designs for creating such a beautiful book cover. Your artwork brings Kylie to life!
To Cris Hadarly, Becca Manuel, and Abbie Dauenheimer—Thank you ladies a million times for being so effing creative. I love the trailers and collages, and I smile like an idiot every time I look at them.
To the bloggers in the romance community—THANK YOU! Your support and love for my books mean so much to me. I appreciate you all more than you could ever imagine. Thank you for taking such good care of me and all the other indie authors!
And to my family—You guys rock my socks! (Don’t look at my feet right now because they’re mismatched.) Thanks for encouraging me to follow this dream of mine. I love you guys.
About the Author
Emily Snow is The New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Devoured series, the Savor Us series, Tidal, and Wrecked. She loves books, sexy bad boys, and really loud rock music, so naturally, she writes stories about naughty rockers. Visit her blog and her website for news, teasers, and contests.
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Metamorphosis
By Erin Noelle
“The Greek name for a butterfly is Psyche, and the same word means the soul. There is no illustration of the immortality of the soul so striking and beautiful as the butterfly, bursting on brilliant wings from the tomb in which it has lain, after a dull, groveling, caterpillar existence, to flutter in the blaze of day and feed on the most fragrant and delicate productions of the spring. Psyche, then, is the human soul, which is purified by sufferings and misfortunes, and is thus prepared for the enjoyment of true and pure happiness.” (From Bulfinch's Mythology: The Age of Fable, chapter XI)
Chapter 1
“I can’t believe we are finally here. I am completely and utterly exhausted, but could not be happier,” Evie, my longtime best friend and now college roommate, said as she threw herself across her freshly made bed.
“I know. It’s surreal, isn’t it? I’m almost afraid to go to sleep tonight in fear that I’ll wake up tomorrow morning back at my parent’s house,” I replied, sitting down cross-legged in the chair across the room.
“God, that would be a nightmare.”
“Tell me about it. You aren’t the one that’s had to live with them the last eighteen years,” I muttered.
“True, but I have had to live across the street for the last ten, and listen to you bitch and moan every day about the prison wardens they are,” she retorted.
Evie was right; without her, I may have gone crazy at some point while dealing with my over-bearing, controlling parents. That or run away and joined the circus. Seriously, that would’ve been an upgrade to the life I had while living with my parents. Okay, maybe I was exaggerating a bit, it’s not like they ever beat me or neglected me, or really even yelled at me. I never wanted for any material item or for their attention. It was quite the opposite actually. My parents were so far up my ass they literally didn’t allow me to have a life of my own.
But the day had come when they finally had to let me go. I’d been looking forward to that day for at least three years, ever since I realized that kids my age were actually doing fun things while I was studying or at music lessons or doing something else they deemed necessary for me to become a successful human being. I was finally free of their outrageous and outlandish rules. I knew that I’d never escape their unrealistic and idealistic expectations of me, but now as long as I made good grades and didn’t get in legal or financial trouble, I would never have to live under their roof again.
“Hello! Earth to Scarlett! Are you still with me here?” Evie yelled across the modest-sized room, shaking me out of my daydream.
“Scarlett, seriously, what the hell is your problem? You are sitting over there looking like you’re being forced to watch someone shit in your Louboutins,” she spat.
“I don’t own Louboutins, Evie.”
“Humor me…” she said as a serious look crossed her face. “ You are supposed to be happy… joyful… hell, you should be jumping up and down ecstatic that you are actually going to be able to have a life.”
“Sorry, I was just thinking about how controlling my parents really are and wondering how I’ve managed to survive until now,” I confessed.
“Controlling?!? That’s like saying that Lindsey Lohan has a minor drug problem or that Charles Manson might have been a psychopath. Elizabeth and David are nuts and I’m still not sure how you’ve managed not to go postal on them until yesterday. And I’m still surprised they ever let you be friends with me.”
“It’s only because they could see your house from our front window,” I said somewhat embarrassed because we both knew it was the truth. “And I think they are still in shock over my standing up to them,” I continued as I thought back to the day prior when I had told them I was an adult and was making a clean break.
“It was time, Scarlett. Don’t beat yourself up over it.” Evie shook her head as we both remembered the dramatic events of the previous evening when my parents had attempted to implement a 10:00PM curfew on weeknights for me while I was hundreds of miles away at college. “They are delusional… even my parents finally said something about how out of touch with reality they are.”
I sighed loudly and slumped over in the chair a bit, feeling sorry for myself. Evie was so lucky to have “normal” parents that allowed her to go to public school, to participate in whatever extra-curricular activities SHE wanted, and to actually date... gasp! Instead, in the parental lottery I had been awarded a duo that insisted I had no social life, no choice in my hobbies, and most definitely no social interaction with the male population. They had even gone to the expense of sending me to the most affluent, academically challenging, all-girl Catholic school in the San Antonio area. Lucky me, right?
“Scarlett, you are doing it again! I’ve never seen you so spacey,” Evie cut into my thoughts once again. “Come on! Snap out of it! Aren’t you just geeking about tomorrow?”
“Geeking? What is that? Geeking? I swear you must look these words up online or something?”
“No, sourpuss, I don’t. I just have an immensely elaborate vocabulary,” she smirked.
“'Immensely elaborate vocabulary’ and you come up with geeking and sourpuss? Wow, Rice University has no idea what they said yes to when they accepted your application,” I snorted.
“Just shut up and let’s talk about tomorrow. Have you decided what you are going to do with your hair?”
“I’m not really sure…”
“Wait,” she interrupted, jumping off of her bed. “Before we continue this conversation, let’s open our celebratory bottle of wine.”
She was headed for the kitchenette before she even finished the sentence, grabbing two of our new glasses from the cabinet that I had just put away less than an hour before. Once she had opened the bottle of white wine she had stolen from her parent’s house and poured us each a glass, she rejoined me in her bedroom.
“Okay, now we are ready. So tomorrow?” she asked , eluding to the day we had planned for my external makeover. Weeks prior she had scheduled for me to spend a day at a local spa for a massage, a manicure/ pedicure, waxing, and a new hairstyle. After that we were to go shopping so I could start reinventing my wardrobe. Luckily, I had saved upwards of five thousand dollars throughout high school babysitting, tutoring, and teaching after school music lessons, so I would be able to purchase a good base.
“Look Evie, I am extremely excited about tomorrow. I really am, I promise.” I paused to take a drink of wine. It wasn’t as bad as I had expected. “But I’m also very nervous and anxious about all of it. Finally being able to live my own life, to make my own decisions about what I like and don’t like, getting to choose my own clothes, styling my own hair, doing whatever I want, whenever I want… all of it sounds amazing… it sounds so freeing… but I just feel incredibly overwhelmed by all of it. I know most people don’t get to just start over when they are eighteen, a chance to recreate their image, who they want to be… And I’m so thankful and relieved that I’m finally here, away from them, but truth be told I’m just scared. I don’t want to mess this up.” I confessed.
“Oh sweetie,” she said as she patted the bed next to where she was laying, indicating for me to join her. I lifted my eyebrows in disapproval at her “sweetie” remark, but she went on as if she didn’t notice. “You are going to do just fine. You just need to give yourself more credit. You are so smart, and so sweet, and you are beautiful inside and out. Plus you will always have me here to tell you when you are fucking up, so there’s no way you can fail.”