Review: DRIVE by Stephanie Fournet
I have loved everything I’ve read from Stephanie Fournet, and DRIVE did not disa[...]
I’m thrilled to take part in the release launch for Selene Castrovilla’s SIGNS OF LIFE (Rough Romance #2)! Check out the book’s details and teaser, and be sure to enter the giveaway below!
Signs of Life (Rough Romance #2)
Publisher: Last Syllable Books
Publication: June 21, 2016
The tables are turned with a vengeance in this tour de force love story. Nearly a year has gone by and now it’s Dorothy who is fragmented and lost, while Joey keeps the promise he had made her to better himself —even though she’s gone. Joey talks about what is happening in the present while Dorothy describes what happened before— in the moments and hours after the Glock dropped. This time the stakes are even higher, as Joey forces himself to move forward while Dorothy is frozen in place. But when he learns of a devastating decision, Joey races to find her before it is too late. Truth, consequence, repercussion and modern medicine collide as pieces converge in this psychological, thrilling story which begs the question: Can love really conquer all?
Excerpt from Signs of Life
Joey — Now
I get to the church, and low and behold there’s a new message on its sign. The messages outside this church make my soul shudder. I try not to look at it, but then I always do. It’s like an accident on the side of the road. A really bad accident, where there’s nothing you can do to help—and there you are, staring. Helpless.
I think of this sign like an especially bad therapy session. Like it’s a shrink bringing up shit—no, topics—you don’t want to think about. But this sign is even worse, because it’s not just about me. It’s about all of us—and there ain’t a thing I can do about it.
I don’t know what’s up with this church always making people feel bad before they walk in—or maybe they’re trying to guilt you to come in and pray, to try and do something to ease the pain.
Maybe religion’s just another drug.
Tonight the sign says, “No good deed goes unpunished.”
I said that once myself, to Doll. I didn’t even know where it came from, it just blurted out without my even thinking about it. It was like the words were divinely delivered into my throat for me to say. When it was too late to do anything about them.
Typical God.
Makes you wonder what’s up with him, causing all this grief. Maybe he’s toying with us.
But I still go to meetings and I still surrender. What else can I do? And anyway, I don’t have the the strength to fight anymore.
Never thought I’d see that day.
I salute ol’ Jesus still nailed up on that cross and head inside. Poor Jesus. If he had no chance, what’s gonna happen to the rest of us?
Dorothy – Then
The more we kissed the dreamier I felt, like that first
time. At the museum, by the Monet
paintings. When we floated among the
water lilies. We just drifted right in with
them. Now we were
floating in the water
below us, going with the
current, carried by the
tide. Nature, we could
trust.
But could we trust human
nature?
We were still holding
hands, he was clutching
me, so tight, but then he
let go of one
hand and
touched
my
hair. It made me feel like when his
dad touched me, and my entire body
shook. I pushed him off of me and
gasped, sucking in huge
breaths and yet still unable to
breathe.
“Doll …” he tried to touch me again and I
recoiled. I fell to my
knees on the
sidewalk, but I felt no physical
pain. It occurred to me to
pray
but the last time I did that I got
screwed.
“What is it?” he asked. He was bent down beside
me, but giving me distance
too.
I couldn’t
answer, but it really didn’t matter because I didn’t
know the answer.
“Do you need me to
get
help?”
My eyes were closed now as I
concentrated on calming
myself. Who needed God
anyway? Joey had been right about
him.
Maybe I was my
own
God, maybe we were each our
own
gods, and that thought made me
laugh. Then I was laughing and
breathing, and I was
okay. Which proved my thesis,
right? I opened my eyes and looked at
Joey, who was not getting the
joke.
“What the hell?”
He looked like he was about to fit
me for a
straight
jacket.
“I guess … I guess I have a little
PTSD. When you touched my
hair, I flashed back to your
dad touching
me …”
“I’m
sorry. Okay, I’ll
keep out of your
hair.” He gave me a crooked
grin.
I smiled
back. “For
now.”
“But … what was so
funny?”
“I surrendered to a higher
power that turned out to be
me.”
He stared at me for a few
beats. Then he said, “Whatever
works for
you.”
About Selene Castrovilla
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Selene Castrovilla is the award-winning author of multiple narrative nonfiction picture books and young adult novels. She holds an MFA in Creative Writing from The New School and a BA in English from New York University. She lives on Long Island with her two sons and too many cats. Visit her website: www.SeleneCastrovilla.com.
