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In this captivating saga, Samantha Skylar experiences undying passion and endures one horrific act of brutality that sweeps her into the arms of the second most powerful man in the country. Samantha’s journey takes her from the poverty and close-minded attitudes of a tiny, coal-mining town in West Virginia, to the estate of one of Atlanta’s oldest and wealthiest families. This epic trilogy follows Samantha from the age of 14 to 40.
Book Three opens with Sam struggling to adjust to a new life in a new city. She is grieving the loss of her friends, while tentatively exploring a new relationship with the Vice President of the United States. Not quite a year into this new life, Sam finds herself back in Atlanta, once again trying to heal. Complications arise as she works to repair relationships with the people she loves most.
After her successful reentry into her life in Atlanta, Sam discovers a love stronger than any romantic love she'd ever experienced: the love of a mother for her child. But after one more devastating loss, she ponders the wisdom of ever letting herself love or be loved again.
Excerpt:
Samantha
Washington,
DC
Friday,
February 12, 1993
“You
seem like you’re a million miles away this evening, Sam.”
Nancy’s familiar comforting voice penetrated my thoughts.
I’d
been staring blindly out the window of her tiny office at the women’s
shelter. “God, it looks like it’s going to snow again,” I
groaned. She was quiet; she was amazing at being quiet, and never
seemed to feel uncomfortable. I’d always felt as though I should
fill the silences. Nancy was the only person I was comfortable with
in silence … well, not the only person, but I didn’t want to
think about that other person. I looked over at her desk; it faced
the wall to make more room in the tiny office. I sought out the
pictures that always calmed me during my therapy sessions. There
were two: one of her and her four children. They all looked so
happy, and why wouldn’t they be with a mom like her? The other
picture was of Nancy and her cocker spaniel, Baxter. He was brown
and white with freckles across his nose. “How’s Baxter?”
She
smiled at me. “He’s fine. He’s getting old and a little hard
of hearing, but he’s fine.” I nodded. “How are you?”
I
looked at her and felt my eyes well with tears. “Sad … and
terrified all the time.” She nodded. “It’s been over three
months,” I spat in exasperation.
She
nodded again. “You’re grieving … it’s a process.”
“Grieving?
Oh, for Bastian?” There was that ‘other person.’
“Well,
yes, for Bastian. But you lost more than Bastian. Joe took things
from you…” I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk about Joe.
“Why are you shaking your head, Sam?”
“I
can’t talk about that,” I whispered. My hand went to my chest
that felt as though it were constricting. I couldn’t breathe.
“Take
some deep breaths. You’re fine.” I did as she instructed.
“How’s work?” I could have kissed her for changing the
subject.
I
relaxed and smiled. “I like it. There’s security everywhere…”
She
laughed quietly. “Yes, it is
the White House.” I smiled and nodded.
“I’m
busy from the moment I arrive until I leave, sometimes I work a
twelve or fourteen-hour day. I like it … it keeps me from
thinking.” I idly picked at some cat hair on my pants. “I
usually go in on the weekends. But…” I sighed miserably.
“Daniel’s going out of town this weekend for his mother-in-law’s
birthday, so I have the entire weekend to myself. No Daniel, no
Chris…” My voice trailed off and I went back to looking out the
window.
“Well,
back to grieving … it happens in stages. Everyone does it their
own way and in their own time. You lost a part of yourself,
emotionally and physically, when Joe raped you.”
“I
hate that word.”
“Mm-hmm,
it’s an ugly word for an ugly act. But that’s what he did to
you. How long was he there that night, Sam?”
I
shook my head. “I-I don’t know … ten, eleven hours?”
“Okay,
let’s say it was ten hours. It was ten hours, Sam. Don’t let
those ten hours and that horrible person dictate the rest of your
life.”
“I
don’t know how not to,” I answered honestly.
“I
know. That’s why you’re here … so we can come up with ways for
you to move on from it.” We were quiet again. I looked down at my
hands in my lap, twisting Phil’s ring around on my left ring
finger.
“Don’t
you usually wear that on your thumb?” I looked down and smiled as
I touched the plain gold band. “It’s the ring Phil gave you,
right?”
“Mm-hmm.
I finally took it in and got it resized. It feels good to have it
back where it belongs.”
“Why
does it ‘belong’ there, Sam?” I looked up at her, confused.
Where else would I wear
it? “Well, what I
mean is … you have an engagement ring from Bastian, too, right?”
I nodded, not liking the direction this conversation was taking. She
shrugged and asked, “Well, why wouldn’t you wear that one? Why
doesn’t that one ‘belong’ on your ring finger? What was wrong
with wearing Phil’s ring on your thumb like you had been doing?”
I
sighed. “Well … there’s a security officer at work. He’s
very nice … he always makes an effort to chat a little in the
morning when I check in.”
Nancy
smiled at me and nodded. “You can never have too many friends,
Sam.”
“I
s’pose. Last Friday I worked pretty late. He walked me out to my
car … and then…” I could feel my heart pounding, just like it
did last Friday. I stood up and walked over to the window, staring
out as the first few flakes began falling. “Then he asked me to go
out to dinner with him … maybe a movie.”
“What
did you say?”
I
turned and looked at her incredulously. “No, of course!” We
were both quiet. I turned slowly and walked back to my chair. I sat
and picked at a hangnail on my thumb until it bled. “Well, I
didn’t exactly say no. I, uh, well… I pretended that I hadn’t
heard him. I thanked him for getting me safely to my car, got in and
drove home. The next day, I took the ring in and got it resized.
He’s off on Mondays. I picked the ring up Monday night and when I
signed in on Tuesday, I made a point of moving my left hand around a
lot so he would see it.” I was suddenly horribly embarrassed. I
looked up at Nancy and relaxed. She never looked or acted shocked by
anything I told her … I loved that about her. “Hmm, it seemed
like a good idea at the time, but telling the story now … it seems
kind of silly.”
She
smiled at me. “Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to just be honest
with him? Wouldn’t you like to be able to thank him for the
invitation, but tell him that you’re just not interested in dating
right now?” I looked down and nodded. “That’s what I meant
earlier, Sam. That Joe has taken a part of you emotionally. He took
that independent woman who didn’t need a ruse to avoid people. Our
job is to get her back.”
Great excerpt - thanks for sharing!
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