Title: Oceans Collide
(#1 of The Oceans series)
Author: M.A. DeOlmos
Genre: Adult, Contemporary Romance, MMA Romance
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You will fall in love with this amazing trio. This book contains not one but TWO heart-warming, swoon worthy, and panty-melting book boyfriends. Go ahead. Lawrence & Ocean Hawthorne are anxiously waiting for you to sink your teeth into them…careful though…they just might bite back! ;)
For years, Livie Acosta has lived in a sheltered bubble, avoiding people, along with any aspect of life that requires one to show emotion. Not to mention her decision to stay close to her mother has her leaving the comfort of her own home nearly on a nightly basis to save her mother time and time again. It takes the sudden death of her mother to force Livie out into the world in search for a new purpose. Upon this forced quest she immediately meets one of two souls that are going to rock her world into a new dimension.
Lawrence Hawthorne knows pain, grief, and emotions period, all too well. Despite his carefree nature and easy going personality he also harbors some tough demons that immediately draw him to Livie. It doesn't take long to recognize the deeply seeded pain that resides in her own soul and that leads Lawrence to call on his right hand man for help in protecting her.
As soon as Ocean Hawthorne steps onto the scene, Livie's world... the void world she's known since forever changes in a way that threatens to expose her secret. The Hawthorne cousins, vow to protect her from her self-destructive qualities amidst the angst, pain, and trials they all individually go through. Desperately they hold onto each other for support and as love and passion blossom it threatens to destroy the weak foundation of solitude that Livie has strived so hard to achieve.
Will the intrusion of two beautiful and tortured souls finally be enough to induce the strength Livie needs to fight her demons, or will their love and devotion finally push her far enough to make the deepest cut she'd ever been forced to make?
Excerpt . . .
Lately, it had turned into my own personal soundtrack to life so, naturally, I selected it as my ringtone. I was weird like that; every mood, every emotion I felt could be pretty much summed up into a song, or a pretty long playlist of songs.
As I squint, I reached out and grabbed my cell from my side table.
Damn. I wish I had turned it off.
Nothing good ever came from answering a call this early in the morning.
The caller ID read Mommy Dearest, so I let the call go to voice mail. There were only two reasons my mother could be calling me at three a.m.
One was she was drunk off her ass and needed my help, or two, she was higher than cloud nine and she needed my help. Either way, she was in trouble and I was still the only person that, fortunately for her, gave a shit.
I so wish I didn’t!
I didn’t bother to call back, because once I didn’t answer, she wouldn’t call again. She never liked admitting to me, or to anyone for that matter, that she needed help and I was tired of getting hurt trying to help her in the process.
Huffing out a breath of aggravation, I rolled off my futon and made my way to the bathroom.
Let’s see how fucked up the mommy dearest really is.
I stepped into the steaming shower. I was in no way rushing to get to my mom’s house. She was lucky I still cared enough to wake my ass up in the first place. The hot water burned my skin as it washed away the dried blood from my thighs.
I was a cutter and no one knew it except for me, myself, and my fucked up mental state. I planned to keep it that way.
Cutting was the only way I could deal with my life; the only way I could numb out the emotional pain that I couldn’t handle.
The sound of my cell phone blaring again brought me back to the present. Peaking around my hello kitty shower curtain, I saw it was my mom calling again.
Shit! Two calls within an hour was bad news. Really bad news.
Shutting off the water, I grabbed my towel and stepped out of the shower. I refused to look in the mirror because I didn’t want to see the scars. I knew they were there and I didn’t need to catalogue them in my mind.
I only had about three to five scares on each thigh. I tended not to go overboard with cutting because I had other hobbies that I would use to wear myself out. Kickboxing was one of them. I quickly dried myself off and dressed up my wounds.
Reaching into my gym bag on my bathroom’s counter, I pulled out a pair of gray sweats and a black camisole. I pulled my hair into a ponytail and grabbed my iPod. I figured after the show at my mom’s I would most likely soon witness a good run that would help to fight off the demons of dealing with her.
Stepping out into the hallway of my apartment, I bunched up my nose at the display of nakedness. Sprawled out on the living room sofa was my roommate, Tara and her girlfriend, Sasha. They were butt-ass naked and drooling all over each other.
I really have to find a new roommate or move the hell out, period!
They really didn’t bother me much and I had nothing against their love affair, but they acted as if they lived in a damn nudist colony. And clearly, this was no damn nudist colony.
Making sure I had my cell in hand, I grabbed my keys and pink Nike runners that I had left under the coffee table and headed out the door.
Living twenty minutes away from my mother was a blessing and a curse all rolled up into one sweet and sour tootsie pop.
Slowing down to make the left onto Lancast Ave, I down shifted creeping up on the house.
Man, I loved how my beat up Acura purred when I shifted. I swear I should have been born a boy. Maybe my mother wouldn’t hate me so much.
Rolling to a stop, I could see burnout marks all over the cracked driveway leading out to the street. All the lights were off except maybe her bedroom light from what I could make out from my car.
I reached into my inner counsel and pulled out my mace, pocketknife, and brass knuckles. You’d think I was getting ready to commit a crime, but honestly, the last time I came over unprepared I was almost gang raped by my mom’s company! It wasn’t because she lived in a bad area, either.
Dunlap, Illinois was a pretty nice place to live. The company my mother kept around, on the other hand, was downright scary at times. It was much lighter out, so I didn’t feel too edgy walking up to the house. Usually, I could hear my mother’s screaming howls, or a guy (or guys) yelling at her, but tonight it was eerily quiet.
I slipped my brass knuckles on and took a deep breath. The time on my phone read three fifty-four a.m. and I proceeded to the front door of the place I once called home.
I knocked lightly as not wanting to wake her if she were asleep. After a couple of seconds, I knocked again a little harder starting to grow impatient. No answer, no lights switched on. Nothing.
I put the house key in the lock and unlocked the door opening it slowly.
The house smelled clean which was a pleasant surprise. Usually, it smelled like alcohol or marijuana.
Closing the door lightly behind me, I put my keys and cell in the back pocket of my sweats. I ignored the photos placed around the house of my parents and me when we were actually a family. Those kind of memories only brought pain and I don’t necessarily deal well with pain.
Just keep moving and get this over with.
I made my way through the posh and well-furnished house all the way up the stairs. “Mom, you up here?” I called out.
I didn’t want to walk in on something I had no business seeing. Even though I was twenty-three years old, no one should ever suffer the sight of seeing their mother get fucked doggy style. Ever!
Reaching her bedroom door that was slightly ajar. I tapped on it with my knuckles. “Mom, its Livie, can I come in?”
Still no answer. I tapped harder this time. “Mom! It’s Livie. You okay?”
Out of frustration, I swung the door open and scanned the room for anything out of the ordinary. The bed was made and the room was spotless. The smell of pine filled my nostrils.
The bathroom light was on and the door was closed. “Mom, if you’re in the bathroom, just say something.”
Still no answer.
“Mom!” I said a little louder.
I stormed over to the bathroom door and swung it open. “Mom, what the heck…” I started to yell but froze in terror.
My breathing came and went hard and fast. The room started spinning when I fell to my knees next to my mother’s bloodied body.
Unable to move, I took in the image of my mom laid out on the bathroom floor with two slit wrists. Her face was snow white and her lips a pale blue. She wore one of her fancy satin nightgowns and her beautiful black hair was tied into a French braid.
On their own will, my hands jerked forward and I pulled her cold body into my lap. “MOM… MOM! Please, mom, no! You can’t do this to me!” I yelled. “You’re supposed to hate me always. You’re not supposed to kill yourself.”
My cries turned hysterical and I was beginning to lose focus.
Before I passed out from hyperventilating, I quickly reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone dialing 911 as fast I could.
“911 What is your emergency?”
“Yes! My mom... she... sh.”
“Please calm down, and tell me what happened to your mother?”
“My mom she needs help! She’s bleeding everywhere. Please send someone to help her!”
“What is your address, miss?”
“419 Lancast Ave. Please hurry. I think I’m too late. Please come fast. Please.”
“Ma’am, the ambulance is on its way. Please stay on th-”
As soon as I heard the operator say the ambulance was on the way, I threw the phone across the room and screamed. I screamed until my throat felt raw and could no longer breathe.
Everything went black.
Giveaway . . .
About the Author . . .
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