She is desperate to remember. He is aching to forget. Together, they are not broken. But together, one may not survive. Jade wakes up with no memory of her past and blood on her hands. Plagued by wicked thoughts, she searches for answers. Instead, she finds a boy who doesn't offer her answers, but hope. But sometimes, when nightmares turn into reality and death follows you everywhere, hope is not enough. LUST. LOVE. LOSS. Sometimes, all that is left are Ashes and Ice.
2 Awesome EXCERPTS:
“Have you ever been in love?” I spill my popcorn on my lap. “I, uh, what?” I say, swiping off the kernels. The question catches me off guard.“You know, in love.”“No. No, I haven’t.” I shift on the couch, needing more space between us. “What about you?”“Nah.” She flicks her hand toward me as if she is brushing away nonsense, but the hard look in her eyes says something different.“Why?”She points to the TV screen and the couple making out there. “Figured if you had been, then you could explain that to me.”The guy sweeps the girl up and carries her into bed before they… you know. “Uh, sex?”She bursts out laughing. “That too. But I was talking about what it feels like to be, you know, in love. Totally, without question. Like, does that,” she points to the screen again, “exist?” “Yeah, I think it exists.” I think of mom and dad—the way they kissed every morning, hugged a few moments longer than anyone else, laughed so hard they cried, and cuddled, shutting out the world, looking more content than these fakers on the screen. “It exists. And in real life, it’s better than that crap.” I say, suddenly uncomfortable by the moaning coming from the TV.“I thought you said you’ve never been in love?”“I haven’t. But I’ve seen it. And I haven’t ever seen anything come close to that in the movies.”She opens her mouth as if about to ask a question, but then closes it and smiles, accepting my answer. “Well, it’s good that there may be something in life to look forward to.” She drops a kernel of popcorn in her mouth.“May be?”“Well nothing is guaranteed. Who knows, I may die an old spinster.” She’s smiling, but her eyes aren’t.I think about the movie store guy’s possessive eyes, Jesse’s chair fiasco, and Dominic’s leering, my heart. “I doubt that.”
He smiles a bit wider and hands out the pin. As, I reach to pluck it from his palm, he snatches my wrist with one hand, my bicep with the other and crushes me against his chest. His grip is tight—too tight, it hurts—and the bend of him hovers over me, leaning in. I try to shake him off, but he doesn’t let go. I squirm as I feel his thumb trace circles on the inside of my wrist. The touch sends a skitter of sensation over me. Something tinges the air; a sweet, cool feeling brushes over my skin, making my knees want to buckle. He smells like mint, his breath tickles my face. I pull back, hating the sensations that please my skin and curdle my insides. Bile surges in my throat. I tear myself away from him, glaring.“What?” He says coolly as if he hadn’t just bruised my arms with his clutching fingertips.“That. Hurt.” I say. I don’t say he smells sweet or his breath is refreshing on my skin or his touch sends chills up my spine, delicious chills. I step away.His smile is unnerving. “Don’t worry, Jade.” He winks at me. Damn that wink of his. “One day, you’ll like it.”
About the Author:
Rochelle grew up dreaming up stories. When she entered high school, she tucked away her creative side and jumped head-first into academics, work, and service projects. She graduated summa cum laude with a degree in Political Science and Communication when she was twenty years old. After years away from her writing, Rochelle picked up a pen and started fleshing out a character sketch that she outlined when she was twelve. That sketch was the start of the Ashes and Ice story. Rochelle lives in the DC metro area with her husband and daughter. By day she works as a behavioral therapist. By night, she is a dreamer and is busy tapping out new stories on her keyboard.Find and Follow her on: Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads / Website
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