Hadley is Lost. Living is a
struggle with her family gone, leaving her the lone survivor of a horrible car
accident. As Hadley struggles to overcome the grief that comes with the loss of
her family, she wonders if she wants to continue living. Life doesn't feel
worth living until she meets Avery. Avery…who makes her want to feel things she
shouldn't so soon after her tragic loss. Avery…who makes her want to live. With
Avery’s love, will she be able to overcome the grief or will it consume her?
P.A. Warren currently
lives in the fine state of North Carolina. She is an avid reader and blogger.
P.A Warren first found a love of books while reading The Babysitter Little
Sister series by Ann M. Martin and since then hasn’t looked back. Reading
everything she could and would get her hands on. Befriending librarians was one
of P.A Warren’s favorite things to do. She also has a huge love for Squirrels.
She has found
gold in Indie Authors and loves nothing better than supporting them. It has
been a lifelong dream of hers to write, so when she was finally able sit down
and put words to paper she was thrilled, and has been writing non-stop since.
She looks forward to hearing from readers!
You can find
P.A Warren at the following places
Email- authorpawarren@hotmail.com
Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/AuthorPAWarren
Twitter- https://twitter.com/PeggyWarren
EXCERPT
Fall 2012
I am
alone, a single soul. No longer am I a part of a family unit .The overwhelming
feeling of loss is paving its way through my body. Who knew your heart could
actually hurt or that you could feel so damn empty inside. I feel like brittle
glass. I bet if someone touched me I would shatter into a million tiny pieces.
Digging my nails into my wrist I embrace the pain my nails are causing as they
sharply bite into my skin.
My mother used to always say; Hadley, that
which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
I personally think it’s a crock of crap. I mean what exactly does it do
to make you stronger? What exactly am I supposed to feel like? Superman? It
didn’t make them stronger; all it did was take them away from me. Sighing
inwardly, I was so close to death and I don’t feel strong at all. I feel like a
suicidal wreck. I can’t help but know it should be me in that casket and not
them.
The
Minister’s voice breaks into my fading thoughts shaking me into the present. I
avert my eyes and stare off into the distance, my eyes on two birds circling
the field in the distance. I wonder what it would be like to fly away, to not
have a care in the world.
Lowering
the caskets into the ground is almost too much to bear; watching the changing
leaves dancing around the cemetery floating along with the breeze, I long to
float away with them. The same crisp autumn breeze tangles my hair pulling it
in front of my face and pushes my hair behind my ears while I look at the
bright sun.
The
birds are singing bright happy songs and I find it ironic, it should be
raining. I hear women behind me
sniffling into tissues, issuing a cough here and there. Someone near the back
is gossiping and it’s taking everything in me not to turn around and tell them
to shut up and stop crying. They didn’t lose their family. I did. I should be
the one crying, but I’m not. My knee is throbbing in pain standing on crutches
watching the minister drone on and on, the pain medication doing nothing to
dilute it.
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