Publisher: Entangled Publishing
beautiful girl, who is my best friend. We grow up together on a sunny island
surrounded by water that’s as blue as her eyes. We share all our hopes and
fears until we realize we belong to each other in every way one person claim
another. She is my own personal serenity. Sweet story, eh?
manwhore, who uses his fists to solve his problems. The only comfort I find is
inside a bottle… and the dreams. But the dreams are my illness not my cure.
Just when things look the darkest, the sun slaps me square in the jaw. I spot a
picture of a scenic island surrounded by the bluest water – my island.
out of the chaos that is my life. Feel free to tag along, but this journey
comes with a steep warning — dreams can turn into nightmares in the blink of an
Sunny Shelly’s Review: 5 Stars
This story is told fully from Jason’s POV, and it made me laugh, cry, rage and a smile. Anything I want to say about the story will give things away, but this book captivated me. There was a point where I just wanted to get to the WHY he knew Scarlett from his dreams but he was an essential stranger to her. The twist is certainly not one I saw coming, but it is unique and made this story one of a kind.
I received an advanced copy via NetGalley and voluntarily left a review.
fan of country music?”
of yours, Scarlett.”
“That’s a little smoother.”
learning.” “I take it country is your favorite kind of music?” I asked
kinds of music, but country is in my soul.” She placed a finger against her
bottom lip. “Plus, whatever comes out of this mouth just sounds country.”
“I bet country tastes delicious.”
laughed, pointing a finger at me. “You’re dangerous. You flirt like this with all
could tell her no, but she deserved an honest answer. “Yes.” I wanted to take
it back when her smile tightened. All those years of trading warm bodies to
still my constant loneliness made me sad. She was what I’d been missing all
along. “Would it make me sound more like a douche bag if I said I never meant
it like I do now?”
isn’t enough honest in the world. Watch your step.”
stop.” She held up her arm in front of me. She took a few steps and bent down
to pick something up. “Stupid tourists,” she said, throwing a plastic bucket. Then
she lifted the creature underneath it and held it out to me.
know he’d be under there?” I asked, staring at the tiny turtle she held in her
hands with no fear.
the kids think it’s funny to trap them. The mama’s lay their eggs here. When
the little ones hatch, they start their journey from right here until it’s time
for them to come back in a few years and lay their own eggs.
you to a real-life sea turtle.”
the animal, unsure if she expected me to offer a handshake or pet its shell.
She walked over to the waves, holding it up against the moonlight, like the
scene from the Lion King. I would have laughed if I wasn’t in awe. “Have a safe
journey, little one, and a good lost year.” She set it in the water. She rinsed
her hands and stood. We watched it drift away, the waves carrying him at first
until he moved with them.
survives.” The breeze picked up strands of her hair. They circled her head like
a crown…not more like a halo.
hands in my pockets, I step closer to her. “Did you say lost year?”
year of the sea turtle migration is called the lost year because no one knows
what they actually do, despite all the technology we have to track them, but I have
grew wistful as she looked out into the turbulent waves. Was she praying? “I
think they might be searching for what’s missing. Maybe they are looking the
parents, who abandoned them, or the turtle they’re supposed to make babies
with. Even if they find what’s lost, they never make up the time they spent
hand on the small of her back. “Maybe they’re just partying it up, having epic
sex, and drinking all the time.”
a smile. “Yeah, maybe so, Jason.”
call me Flynn.”
when we’re friends, New York.” I winced at her statement, but I understood her
need to be guarded––her emotions probably conflicting with basic logic. I’d had
the same argument many times myself tonight.
this made sense. It was like I’d lived a lifetime with her, but we’d never met.
messing with my head but being on the beach with her––it was worth all the
at the age of four from India. Since then, all she’s done is collect words.
After receiving the best gift ever from her parents—her very own library
card—she began reading everything she could get her greedy hands on. At
sixteen, a friend asked her to make up a story featuring the popular bad boy at
school. This wasn’t fan fiction…it was friend fiction. From that day on, she’s
known she wanted to be a writer. With the goal of making her readers both laugh
and cry, MK Schiller has penned more than a dozen books, each one filled with
misfit characters overcoming obstacles and finding true love.