Tag: creative writing

I’ve been hard on myself

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I’ve been hard on myself. I’ve been telling others and myself that this is a time to be patient with ourselves, show compassion, and practice love. And I have more so than in the past, but some days it’s more difficult. I’ve been saying it’s time to just be, reflect, journal, sing, dance, meditate, bake, cook. Do anything that you don’t allow yourself to do when we’re “too busy”.

But this week was hard. Having a release during a global pandemic is more stressful than on any other given day when the world is functioning “normally”. Yesterday, I was allowing the weight and uncertainty to take over. I was wallowing. I felt vulnerable. (I hate admitting this). But then I realized, I’m not alone. We’re all going through shifts and changes as we speak. That sense of community, even if silent solidarity, gave me the push I needed.

I woke up refreshed, positive, trusting this journey I’m on. It’s all we can do. This moment isn’t about controlling outcomes or situations (if we ever truly are in control), but simply being, living, breathing.

I share this so you know we’re in this together. We’re all united in this, and I’m here to tell you I get how it feels to feel lost. I’ve been there. Often. I’m also here to tell you this is temporary. We’re allowed to feel what we do, yet we have the power to overcome it. Even when it seems impossible. We’re strong and we have each other for support. If you ever want to chat, shoot me an e-mail. I believe now more than ever we need to come together and lift each other.

“This too shall pass.”

 

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Promise You: Cover Reveal & Excerpt!

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I am so beyond excited to finally share this cover with you! It’s sweet, fun, and so perfect for Reese and Dex’s story. I mean, can’t you just feel their relationship as you stare at the cover?! It gives me all the feels, and I can’t wait for you to read the story inside! Check out the cover here, and read an excerpt from Promise You.

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Read it today!

Add to your Goodreads Shelf!

About the book:

She wants to be friends. I want more.

I’ve had my eyes set on her for months. The gorgeous brunette captured my attention when I first saw her and stole my heart when I met her.

Making it in the music industry has taken its toll on me, chipping away at my confidence and patience. The one thing that keeps me going is having Reese by my side. I’m determined to show her how good we can be together, even if she continues to pretend there’s nothing between us.

One night changes everything, giving me the only thing I’d want more than a career in country music—her.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself,” she winks and orders a martini. “Do you want a beer?” She turns to look my way while the bartender waits.

“I’m going with whiskey tonight.” Reese raises her eyebrows, and I chuckle. “Need something stronger than beer if I’m going to be standing next to you in that dress all night, darlin’.” The bartender bites down her smile, watching our exchange before making our drinks.

“Dex,” she warns.

“Yeah, I know.” I raise my arms, palms facing her. “Just friends.”

“Yeah,” she sighs and grabs her martini. Once I have my drink, Reese links her arm with mine, and we make rounds. “Isn’t this amazing? One day you’ll have an event like this, I just know it.” Her encouragement is welcomed at a time like this when I feel like I may never get to this point in my career.

“Yeah, maybe.” I don’t miss the defeat in my voice.

“Hey,” she stops walking, pulling me to her by the arm she’s holding. “You’re really good. One of the best I’ve heard in a long time, and I don’t just say that because you’re one of my best friends. I mean it. I’ve been surrounded in this industry since my brother was playing in Riot, just like you. I know how hard it is, I’ve met musicians in the past. Your voice is unique.”

“Thanks, Reese.” I lift a shoulder, wanting to drop the subject in a public place.

“I mean it, Dex.” I nod in silence and look away, pretending to take in the atmosphere.

The live music starts, singers congratulating Rebel Desire as they perform a couple of songs. The fans go wild for all the talent spending their evening with us.

“Dance with me,” I grab Reese’s empty glass and place it on the bar. Everyone else around us is dancing to the music, so there’s no excuse that people will talk or get the wrong idea.

Just when I think she’s going to refuse, she puts her arm around me and begins to sway to the soft music. For a minute, all is right in the world. The worries of making it in this industry, the envy of not having the success others do, it all fades away the second Reese wraps her arms around me and moves to the beat.

I may have fucked around a lot in my life, but after meeting Reese and spending time with her, I’m sure I’d never want anyone else but her. If only I can make her see how good we’d be together.

I remember the first time I saw her, weeks before I actually met her. She was at Riot, laughing and drinking with friends. Her laugh reached me through the crowd, drawing my attention to her. Her confidence danced to the rhythm of the song I was performing. After that, she’d come in on her own some nights, and I’d watch her while I sang songs she could’ve inspired.

Women like Reese, hell, there are no other women like Reese. She’s in a league of her own—gorgeous, funny, and independent.

Copyright 2019, Fabiola Francisco

Read it now!

Amazon

Free with Kindle Unlimited!

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All My Truths & One Lie, Prologue

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Read All My Truths & One Lie’s prologue below. For more information about the book, click here.

 Prologue

dim stars & faded dreams 

When I was a little girl, I used to wander around the playground and contemplate life. I didn’t understand some things and understood others way too much. I processed information differently, in a weird way, and I didn’t understand why my friends were so . . . immature. Yes, at the ripe age of ten, I wondered why kids acted like kids as if I had some wisdom they didn’t have. It wasn’t that I did, I just saw things differently. 

I had friends, but I distanced myself. I needed to as a form of regaining my sanity, or center, or . . . I don’t know. Simply needing some time. Too in my own head, that’s what I was told. I was too serious. Too reserved. Too wild. A plethora of adjectives that didn’t always mesh, yet completed me. I couldn’t argue with those descriptions, I knew they were true. A girl who fantasized too much, warred with the desire of a fantasy and the need to accept life wasn’t that. 

And then I grew up. 

But nothing changed. 

I stare up into the sky and sigh. My eyes close for the briefest moment as the warm breeze kisses my skin. Sitting in the dark, wondering why I live in a place that outshines the stars, the artificial lights illuminating the insincerity that swirls around this city. I open my eyes to see one twinkling star. It brightens and dims as I look at it, wondering how far away it is and what it’s called. 

I push my body back to sit straighter in my chair and cover my face with my hands. How long do I have to stay here for? I keep telling myself I stay in the city because I still have lessons to learn from it. Maybe I need to stop judging it so much so that I may move on. Lord only knows. 

I check the time on my phone. I’m nowhere near tired, but if I don’t sleep now, I’ll be exhausted tomorrow when my alarm clock goes off at six-thirty. Five hours of sleep isn’t nearly enough for me to function anymore.  

I glance up at the sky one more time and blow out air through my mouth. Soon. I feel it in my soul. 

The last three years have been a pause in my life. I’ve discovered things about myself, grown internally, but the life I led has stopped. Almost as if I needed reclusion to overcome a hump. But that causes distance between myself and the world around me. The more I traveled within, the more I secluded myself. I can say it’s symbolic to Jesus’s forty days and forty nights in the desert. However, I’m no Jesus, and this seclusion didn’t ground me. Instead, it uprooted me, yet my body wouldn’t move forward. 

At first, I looked at that time as temporary. Then it became permanent. My perception of it became obsessive to the idea that I’d never move from it. Until I realized the peace in the moment. I removed veils of illusion and took the pause for what it was—a preparation for what’s to come. 

I feel the pull in my soul, guiding me like the wind against a sail. I can allow the guidance or resist it and risk experiencing the greatest shipwreck of my history. 

I choose to listen. I decide to go where the pull takes me when I’ve spent many nights staring at the sky like tonight, telling myself I wasn’t ready. 

I am. 

So many times, the tug I feel is familiar. Another soul calling to me, awakening this intense need from its slumbering state, just enough to rouse me. Then, it releases, not quite prepared for the intensity of our union, yet a consciousness of each other’s existence. It’s a building fire I stoke, gently allowing the flicker to intensify.

But I miss him. 

I don’t know him physically, and I miss him. My soul longs to be near his. In my sleep, I long to feel his arms around my body, his breath tickling my neck. I can sense him inside me. How can you miss someone you haven’t yet met?

Homesick for a person my eyes haven’t seen, but my soul is familiar with. We’ve danced together before in other times and I long to see him again. Hold him. Feel him near.

And I’m finally ready. 

That’s why I took this first step in the direction I want my life to go. 

Seeing as my mind is racing and my eyes are wide open, I stay outside in hopes I’ll catch a miraculous shooting star. The street light shines on the outside of my home. It’s small but cozy. This is what I need for now. As long as I have a chair, a small table, and open skies, I’m happy. 

Despite having this home, I still feel stuck. As if my soul is moving faster than my body. I see things shifting in my mind’s eye but don’t see the shift in my life around me. Or maybe I do. Sometimes it’s difficult to see the change when those around you are blind to it. But on the inside . . . on the inside, I feel as if my cells are shaking to a vibration that I’m unaware of. As if something inside of me wants to shake itself free and go at a speed I’ve never experienced in my life. 

Hence, my inability to rest. 

A surge of energy bursts, fueling my mind to think beyond the world I live in. I always have to take a minute to breathe and ground myself. It’s easy just to allow my mind to float to a world that many don’t believe in. It’s natural to see things with a different understanding. And it’s so difficult to bond with people because of this. So many times I keep quiet, leaving my ideas to myself in quiet observation. A few times I express what I’m holding, usually resulting in odd looks or silent disapproval. 

I shake off the feeling of not belonging and go back to admiring the stars. I can’t see the moon from here, but I know she’s out there. Another reason I wished I lived somewhere with less light and population. A forest in the middle of nowhere with traces of ancient civilizations and history so deep, it trespasses my bones and hits my soul. 

A place like that exists. I just need to find it. 

This is why you struggle to make friends. 

I roll my eyes and ignore the side of me that is rational. I’ve learned to embrace who I am. I’ve learned I may never meet anyone in their thirties who will share the inquisitive wonder I do. I’ve learned that there’s more to life than egotistical existence and material gains. 

But those have been easy lessons in comparison to the ones that tore me apart like an angry tiger and then sewed me back together like a gentle horse. 

— © 2018 Fabiola Francisco

Learn more here: authorfabiolafrancisco.com/amtaol

The hatred will kill you

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I recently wrote a post about being authentic to the outside world, and in turn to yourself. I expressed how I hadn’t been honest with myself or those around me simply because I only showed parts of myself to people depending on our connection. If they’re readers, I’ll only show them the author Fabiola. If they’re in the world of mindfulness and holistic healing, I’ll only show them the healer and meditation guide, the life coach. So on and so forth. 

I am tired of it. I’ve written a book that shows more of myself than anything in the past, and I’m terrified of sharing it. I’m terrified of people I know reading it. Strangers are okay, they don’t know me, I think to myself. But those that do? They’ll know it all. However, there’s a very strong reason I wrote this book, and an even stronger one to share it.

Although All My Truths & One Lie has a romance, the story is about much more than that. It’s about a woman learning to release every emotion, experience, hatred, she’s lived. It’s about a woman that has taken it upon herself to carry the weight of others. And it’s about the weight of family secrets and how our family lineage influences where we stand and the path we take. 

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It may sound a little hokey to some. That’s okay. Ultimately, this book is for me. Why did I decide to share it? Because I’ve learned through observing that I’m not the only one who feels this way. I’m not the only person who struggles with trauma and the after shocks. Mostly, because I learned I’m not alone and that is a mighty big lesson to learn. If I can help one person understand the same thing, my job is done. No, not job—purpose. This is about more. This book is about removing the mask and saying, hey this is me. And it’s about my own release of those that hurt me, of the confusion and pain. It’s about me finally understanding and accepting that I’m worthy of being loved. I’m worthy of more than I’ve given myself and accepted from others. 

I wrote it in pieces, in random scenes, based on emotions and experiences from my life. God, I’m admitting this “out loud” to a public. 

But here’s the thing—I had, have, so much anger and hatred in me. I was tired of carrying it. I’ve learned through the years that holding that emotion in only harms me. It only deteriorates me. The others live on with their lives blissfully unaware. Holding on to the hatred will kill you, will kill me. 

It does no good to do so, and while it’s so damn hard to forgive, it’s essential to our well-being. It’s something that will facilitate our happiness and peace. I said it once, forgiveness is hard as hell, so many times it seems impossible, but the liberation that comes with it is as if you can suddenly fly when you’ve spent a lifetime tied to the ground. And ultimately, forgiveness begins with ourselves. 

I found through this writing process that the anger I was holding mostly was at myself. I was using others as a punching bag because it was easier to blame them. I mean, they were responsible, right? But, deep within, I blamed myself. The reasons are infinite. I’m still a work in progress. My forgiveness is as well. One thing I know for sure is that I no longer want to carry what I was carrying. I no longer want to hold the responsibility of others over my shoulders, adding pressure to my own. 

I wrote a book that’s a cross between fiction and a memoir. I don’t even know what category to put it under. I wrote a difficult book, one that if it lands in the hands of some people, will create problems. But you know what? I’m tired of lies leading the path in our lives. I’m tired of the hatred. Not everyone will like our healing journey. Not everyone will approve of our process in releasing the things that have harmed us. People will prefer to see our flaws so they don’t have to look at their own. I’ll tell you this, no one will be happy with every choice you make. Live for yourself. Fight for your dreams. Hell, go for the life you want to live. Be honest. Live fully. Laugh and cry. Love yourself and love the world despite the flaws. 

Life is so much more than pain and victimhood. Take a step out of the norm and experience the magic of life without the pain we add to ourselves. Let go of the hatred and allow yourself to breathe in clean air and fill your lungs with something else besides the density of pain. Support each other and have compassion knowing we all have our shit but that shit doesn’t define us because we’re meant for more than hurt. 

The hatred will kill me if I don’t release it, but I made the choice to live without it—day by day, always a work in progress. 

It’s not our job to understand the motives of others. It’s our job to provide love for ourselves. So go on and love strongly and live bravely. 

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New Cover Reveal—Red Lights Black Hearts by Fabiola Francisco

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RED LIGHTS BLACK HEARTS

Red Lights, Black Hearts by Fabiola Francisco has a new cover!

red lights ebook

Title: Red Lights Black Hearts

Author: Fabiola Francisco

Genre: Women’s Fiction

On sale for $0.99

Buy the book:

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2MkPgx7

iBooks: https://apple.co/2MAtFAh

Kobo: https://bit.ly/2nNO1rB

B&N: https://bit.ly/2MlRmNw

*This is a re-reveal, therefore the book is already live. 

About the book:

Darkness can be stained by light. Light can outshine the darkest of corners.

Behind a window in Amsterdam’s desired Red Light District, Samantha practices the art of seduction. But behind the façade of the glass, lies her truth waiting to be uncovered. An inner battle of light and dark takes place as Sam learns to release the past and truly live the beautiful tragedy that is life.

Red lights and black hearts collide in a tale of heart and soul.

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About the Author:

Fabiola Francisco loves the simplicity—and kick—of scotch on the rocks. She follows Hemingway’s philosophy—write drunk, edit sober. She writes women’s fiction and contemporary romance, dipping her pen into new adult and young adult. Her moods guide her writing, taking her anywhere from sassy and sexy romances to dark and emotion-filled love stories.

Writing has always been a part of her life, penning her own life struggles as a form of therapy through poetry. She still stays true to her first love, poems, while weaving longer stories with strong heroines and honest heroes. She aims to get readers thinking about life and love while experiencing her characters’ journeys.

She is continuously creating stories as she daydreams. Her other loves are country music, exploring the outdoors, and reading.

Connect with Fabiola:

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/authorfabiolafrancisco

Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/FabReads/

Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/authorfabiola

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorfabiola

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/fabiola-francisco

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8282534.Fabiola_Francisco

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/cJKvIX

Website: https://www.authorfabiolafrancisco.com

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I Haven’t Been Completely Honest

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I haven’t been completely honest

No, this isn’t where I reveal I’ve been using a pen name or hiding behind a false picture, but those things aren’t far off from what I’ve been doing. A few months ago, I finished a manuscript that is the most honest I’ve ever written. And if you’ve read my work before, you know some of my things are pretty honest, pretty real. However, I masquerade the truth behind made-up characters. For so long, I’ve divided myself into segments, much like you’d do with newsletter lists or apps on a phone. I’ve divided myself, my being, into parts that I think would resonate with groups of people. The Fabi that’s a friend. The Fabi that’s an author. The Fabi that’s a life coach. Did you even know that? Nope. Because I’ve not been courageous enough to share it. I’ve created different “personas” to satisfy each audience, each part of me. Essentially, living different bits and pieces of life with a different role. It’s exhausting, yo. I won’t even say it’s hard, because I did it so naturally, but tiring? Hell, yes. I created this belief around my life that I had to separate my different talents, beliefs, hobbies, and passions according to the “person” I was being at the moment.

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I never talked about my aspect of life coaching, energy healing, crystals, Oracle cards with anyone from the “book world” for fear I’d be looked at differently, not accepted, it would harm my books and reach. I created different accounts with the excuse of “branding” to keep it all neatly piled and sorted under categories. Life isn’t a math problem where you have to sort items by color or shape. When I’d be with people I worked holistic practices with, I’d not mention I wrote romance and women’s fiction because I still believed that the romance stigma existed (and let’s be real, it does) and people wouldn’t take me seriously as a practitioner if I wrote about love and sex. Come on, every human wants to be loved (even the blackest and coldest of hearts) and feel that intimate passion. Then, there was the me that was surrounded by friends, wondering which side I should show. As much as I love the moon, living in phases, exposing just parts at a time, dwindled my being. I started to question who I really was. Am I an author, a teacher, a healer? People would ask me what I worked in and I’d freeze. Ummm… I teach children. I’d cut myself short, not giving myself the respect and importance I deserved from myself.

In 2017, my New Year’s resolution was to be unapologetically me. Stand up for myself, say no when I felt like it, speak my truth. Guess what? I was lying to myself. It was a crock of shit, because how can I do that when I wasn’t being honest with the outside world. It’s not enough to tell yourself who you are. You gotta live it, breathe it, be damn proud of it. And while I am proud of my life, the things I’ve accomplished, I have not proved that. I haven’t lived it outside of my bubble.

I’ve slowly been talking about it. I’ve been sharing a tiny bit more in my reader group, talking about crystals, posting on my personal page about energy and moon eclipses and self-care. But it’s not enough. It’s not enough to sprinkle a bit here and there and hope that the flowers will grow without watering them. Without showing up every fucking day. I’ve never taken the stand to say, “Hey, this is me. Take it or leave it.” We’re so afraid of rejection, maybe because we’ve experienced the hurt of it so much throughout our lives. But you know what? I rather honor myself and learn who those people that are as honest and unapologetically themselves as I strive to be are, than be surrounded by people who unknowingly continue to feed my masks of untruth.

I am a plethora of things because I’ve decided to expand further than just one aspect. I’ve decided to grow and evolve and learn about life and myself and this vast universe we live in. Staying one-dimensional just didn’t cut it anymore. It wasn’t serving me or helping me heal. We all have shit we gotta work through. But man, cutting myself into smaller pieces, not knowing who to show up as, was not promoting my healing.

You know what I learned when I’d share with those in a similar spiritual and mindful journey as me that I write romance? People admired me. They admired me. Why? I wondered. They celebrated my books, my releases, my successes. Hell, they celebrated me. They didn’t have veil of disgust or shame. They embraced it and celebrated it. I slowly started to release my own self-judgment and share more openly (baby steps and all) that I was an author of romantic elements, steamy, sometimes sweet, sometimes cringe-worthy rawness. The only person that cared about what I’d look like was me. I was the only one judging myself.

Not so long ago I spoke to someone in the book community who had posted about a practice. If she reads this, it may ring a bell. Lol I’m drawing a blank at the moment about what that practice was (maybe karma or past lives, or something of the sort), but she sent me a message after a few comments back and forth, saying she had just read my Instagram bio (you know, the spiritual and holistic one I keep separate from my author one because of everything I just mentioned above) and had no idea I worked with everything I do. She thought it was awesome. You know what I told her? “I saw your pic the other day with himalayan lamp and oils and caught my attention. I’m definitely quiet about it and working on being more vocal.” (Don’t judge my grammar, it was a Facebook PM. Typos are accepted). I’ve been quiet about it. I wonder why. I wonder why it took me seeing someone else share about it for me to speak up and say, hey I like that. I agree with that. I live that.

God, we judge ourselves too hard from the perspective of others when they aren’t even doing it.  

Talking to a friend the other day, I told her I thought it was time to merge it all. Merge my blogs and have it all fall under one thing—Fabiola Francisco, human being that is working on not being so hard on herself, learning about life, collects crystals, smiles when she sees a feather, loves book boyfriends and romances and coffee (probably way too much), and writes about real life despite adoring cheesy romcoms and dreaming that one day Sam Hunt will fall in love with her (only half-kidding about this last part).

We all have a villain in ourselves that tries to take over at times (I call it the ego), but aren’t we all light and dark? Yin yang and all that jazz. It’s what helps us learn. Evolving that part and taking from it the lessons is what life is all about. If I were perfect, I’d be somewhere else that isn’t Earth. I’m here to learn, I’m here to meet people and learn from them, I’m here to express who I am.

I’ve gone on about this for longer than intended, so if you’re still reading, thank you, and I hope you live everything in pure honesty and authenticity. Truth is the new cool. Don’t cut yourself short. Don’t hide. Don’t think you won’t be accepted, because ultimately you need to accept yourself. That’s all that matters. Embrace who you are—flaws, gains, friendships, hardships, and passions. It’s all you. It’s all me. All we can do is be the best version of ourselves while we continue to grow as humans.

Today,I choose tobe happy!

As for the book I finished. I have no idea how to market it, but I’ll figure it out. It’s all my honest truth combined with the vision of the life I want. It’s time to be real and accept myself. The rest will fall into place.

XO,

Fab

Memories of Us Cover Reveal!

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Memories of Us is almost here! I am so excited for you to read Hunter’s story. This book is full of song lyrics, emotions, and some glances at Rebel Desire. 
Hunter is an up-and-coming songwriter in Nashville, but he left his heart with the one person that has the power to heal it or break it. Read below for the blurb + exclusive excerpt!

MoU ebook

Blurb:

The life I’m living was supposed to be ours, not just mine, and without her it means nothing. 

I couldn’t climb on stage and sing to a crowd, knowing the one person my songs were meant for was miles away from me. Writing songs about her is the best I can do until she comes back because I know we’re not over. We’re just on pause, like your favorite song when you need a moment to take it in. But as soon as I find her, I’m pressing play on our love story.

Preorder: books2read.com/mou

TBR: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/39349692-memories-of-us

Preorder available on Amazon, iBooks, Nook, and Kobo

Exclusive Excerpt!

“I need to start by saying that I don’t need you to free me from guilt. I don’t need some kind of permission to move on.” My head turns to the left to look at him. “The guilt I live with is put on myself for being an idiot. No apology is enough, Kenzie.” He shakes his head, keeping his gaze in front of him as well. He’s in his own world as he speaks to me.

“I live with the self-hatred day in and day out, just trying to survive. I write songs about you, about us, trying to preserve what we had. As if doing so would freeze time and I’d wake up one morning to your tapping on my bedroom window. Remember when you used to do that?” He shakes his head to clear the memory. I remember it as if it were this morning I did it. I’ve always been a morning person, so I’d go to his house and wake him up by tapping his window. Then, I’d spend hours helping him around the farm.

Hunter’s chest rises as he clears his throat. “We had so much going for us. I loved you so damn much. I still do, and whether we ever get a second chance or not, I’ll never stop. It’s impossible to.” His eyes seek mine and on cue I turn my head to meet him. I take a sharp inhale as I see the red rim around his eyes.

“I hope you understand that. I’ll never stop. It’s you or no one. I fucked up. I’m not perfect, even if you thought I was. I’ve been going crazy not knowing where you are. I tried finding you everywhere, but no one knew or wouldn’t spill your location. If you think I’ve moved on, you’re wrong. Because this,” he grips his chest, “left with you.”

“You broke my heart… in a way I never expected.”

“Trust me, I broke my own as well.”

I swallow back the tears that want to escape. I just need to wait to cry when I’m locked in my apartment.

“Maybe we were always meant to follow this destiny. We’re different people. Realistically, how many young people stay with the same person, especially through so many changes. Maybe we were never meant to last.” I shrug, focusing again on the patches of grass.

“You don’t mean that.”

I nod silently.

“Damn it, Mackenzie. Look at me. Look at me.” His body shakes next to mine. “We were always meant to beat the odds. You know it. We would talk about it for hours.”

“It’s different now. Maybe we saved ourselves from greater heartache.” I finally turn to look at him, water blurring my vision but I refuse to let the tears fall. Not yet. “It would’ve hurt more if we had started to live the life we planned and realized it was wrong.”

“Bullshit. There’s no greater heartache than this and I know you feel it, too. You don’t believe this.”

I suck in air and release it just a fast. Nodding, I stand. “I’m sorry, Hunter. I gotta get goin’.”

*Copyright 2018, Fabiola Francisco

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MoU sleeve

You could be a WINNER!

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Spring into March Giveaway!

$75 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway!

 

Spring is almost here and we are celebrating early! I have teamed up with my friends, Rachel Blaufeld and Christy Pastore, to bring you this amazing giveaway. You could be the lucky winner of a $75 Amazon gift card. Talk about book money! Good luck to the participants!

Enter here: http://bit.ly/2F5ENOo

 

*Giveaway ends March 31, 2018

Valentine’s Day Bonus Scene~Cole & Bri

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First Valentine's DAy-2

Bri

I rush down the hall that leads to my apartment. My heels click against the outdoor tiles and I grab the wall, careful not to slip. I take a deep breath and release the tension. Chill, bri. Cole will be here any minute to pick me up and there’s no way I’ll be ready on time. Joke on me for trying to be early for once.

The keys rattle as I unlock the door. I’ll jump in the shower, curl my hair into waves, and wear the outfit I picked out last night. I can be ready in thirty minutes, I lie to myself when I check the time on my phone.

Dixie’s barking reminds me of my other responsibility. New plan, I let her out in the patio while I jump quickly in the shower.

I push through the door and straight for Dixie’s cage, stopping in my tracks. I tilt my head. Those flowers weren’t there this morning. I admire the red, velvety petals in the clear vase. I spy the small, white envelope leaning against it and grab it before opening the cage and letting Dixie out into the patio. Smiling, I tear open the envelope and pull out the card.

Babe, 

I used to think this was a silly holiday, but having you in my life I’ll take any excuse to be with you. These roses are just a preview at what I have planned for tonight. I love you, Bri. I’m a lucky bastard, and I’ll never take you and what we have for granted. I’m running outta space here, love, but know I could go on and on about how I feel. 

love, 

Cole

I sigh and smile, hugging the card to me. I never thought I’d be here. A lone tear slips down my cheek. These days my tears are happy tears, and Cole is to thank for that. Spotting Dixie by the door, I let her in and walk into my room, Dixie hot on my heels.

“What the…” I grip my chest, my heart racing at the speed of light.

A quiet chuckle greets me. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Fuckin-A.” I breathe out. The chuckles get louder as the man I love walks toward me. I stare at his suit, top buttons of his dress shirt undone, and a smile that lights up the dark room.

“Hey, babe.” Cole wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me to him, his lips brushing mine. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“What are you doing here?” My arms find their way around his neck.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

I smirk. “Surprised I was. Thank you for the flowers.” I lean in and kiss him. Cole breaks away with a laugh.

“Looks like the other girl wants a little lovin’ too.” He bends down to pet Dixie, who is insistent on someone paying attention to her. After a few scratches behind her ear, she shuffles away, leaving Cole to myself again.

“You look handsome.” I run my hands over his shoulders and down the lapels of his suit.

“It’s all for you.” I stare into his blue eyes, immense love filling my heart. I’m so lucky. That thought weighs with meaning.

“I’ll be ready quickly.” I move to grab my things for the shower, but Cole pulls me close to him.

“No rush, babe. Dance with me first.”

“Don’t we have reservations at seven?”

“Don’t worry about that.” He holds a small remote before placing it back in his pocket. The opening of my song begins to play and my eyes crinkle with my smile.

“Let’s dance,” he repeats, wrapping an arm around my waist and holding my hand with his other one.

“Did you know this is my favorite song?” I look into his eyes.

“I’m glad it is. I mean every word as much today as the day I wrote it.” His lips touch mine.

“I love you, Cole Burkely.”

“Love you too, Bri.”

I move my arm tighter around the back of his neck, bringing him closer to me. Once upon not too long ago I never thought I’d find love again, but this stubborn and kind man didn’t give up on me. He granted me a second chance I never knew existed.

Swaying to the music, I listen as Cole’s soft voice sings into my ear.

We’ve got our lives to make this work 

And I’m counting on forever to give you the world

Gonna give you the world, girl

Your broken pieces make me whole

So let me be the one to show

How we fit together

With the final strum of a guitar, the song ends, but we continue to move together. Silence can’t break us apart in the darkened bedroom. My head on his should as the beating of his heart moves my body.

“I canceled our reservations,” Cole speaks.

“Why?” I look up at him.

“Change of plans. Trust me,” he winks.

“But you’re all dressed up.”

“I already told you the outfit is for your enjoyment.”

“You do look sexy,” I waggle my eyebrows.

Laughing, Cole slaps my behind. “Take a shower and get ready. I’ll feed Dixie.”

With a final kiss, Cole leaves my room so I can get ready. I choose to still wear the same red dress I had picked out last night and my heels.

“You look stunning.” Cole stands from my couch and looks at me. “Beautiful,” he whispers as he runs his fingers down my arm and clasps my hand. He lifts my arm to spin me around. “You’re all mine.”

“That I am. So you like the dress?” I look down at the off-the-shoulder, form-fitting dress.

“I love it, although you look beautiful in anything.”

“You say that ‘cause you love me.”

“I say that ‘cause it’s the truth. Ready?”

I nod and follow him, deciding to leave his surprise just that, a surprise.

I squint my eyes when we pull into his driveway. His smirk tells me he has something up his sleeve, but I’m not sure why we’re coming to his place.

“Trust me,” Cole leans to me and kisses my bare shoulder. “Too bad you’re going to have to cover yourself up with a coat.”

“I’ll take it off when we’re inside,” I wink.

Out of the car, I hold his hand and walk toward the front door only to be tugged by the arm.

“This way.”

What did he do? I furrow my eyebrows and smile.

As we walk in to the patio I see a ton of twinkling lights hanging over his deck.

“This is beautiful,” I gasp.

“I know how much you miss having a yard.”

“Thank you, babe.”

The closer we walk to the deck, the more I see of the space. White roses mixed with peonies are placed on the table in a square vase. The flickering flames of candles are spread throughout the railing and table.

“I know it’s cold, but I’m hoping the space heaters keep you warm. If not, I have no problem holding you all night and warming you up.”

“This is perfect.” I turn to look at him. “You can keep me warm.” His thoughtfulness knows no limits. My yard was my favorite thing of my old home, and the apartment doesn’t allow for that luxury, but this is spectacular.

“I ordered dinner. Are you sure you’re okay eating out here?”

“More than okay,” I smile.

“Great. Take a seat.” He holds my chair for me. And serves two glasses of red wine. “I’ll be right back with dinner.”

While Cole is inside, I inhale the breathtaking view. The scent of roses fills my nose as the flames dance in the evening breeze.

“Here you go.” Cole places a plate in front of me.

“Mmm… That smells delicious.” I look at the dish.

“Chicken Masala with mashed potatoes.”

“Yum.”

“You haven’t drank wine?”

“I was waiting for you.” I hold my glass up, Cole mimicking me. “To my best guy for this very special night and for all the special days.”

“Nah, tonight is all for you. You deserve it.”

I smile and sip the wine before we begin eating.

“I have a surprise for you.” Cole says as he comes back outside after clearing the table.

“Oh, a blanket.” I stand and allow him to wrap me in it. By the end of dinner, my legs were trembling but I refused to go inside. Cole takes a seat and pulls me onto his lap.

“This isn’t your surprise.” He holds a gift bag out to me.

“I thought we weren’t gifting anything,”

“We weren’t.”

“Cheater,” I quip.

He shrugs. “Open it.”

I peek into the bag, the lavender tissue paper covering my gift. Removing it, I see white cotton and curiosity spikes as I pull out the soft material and open it. I chuckle as soon as I realize what it is.

“That’s for you to wear at our next concert,” Cole winks. I look at the tee shirt that reads, I’m with the drummer.

“I love it,” I lean in and kiss him.

“There’s more.” Cole juts his chin toward the bag. I look inside the gift bag again and find a small box. I hold the soft, black velvet and open the lid to find a delicate gold necklace with a small music note.

“I love it, Cole.”

“I’m glad.” He squeezes my waist. “I wanted you to have something that made you think about me.”

I cup his cheek. “I always think about you. I don’t need a necklace to remind me who you are in my life. There is no doubt in my mind or heart that you are the man I love. I know our beginning wasn’t how you would have wanted, but I’m living each day to prove to you that you are the man I want in my life.”

Visions of Josh come to mind. I’ve learned to live without him while honoring his place in my heart. I’ve also learned to live in the present, with Cole. My daybreak.

“Everything about us was perfect. I never find the right words to tell you how lucky I feel, and how blessed I am to have you in my life. To be on the receiving end of your love. You’ve given me this,” he places his hand over my heart. “That’s the best gift I could’ve ever received.”

I cuddle into him and kiss his chest. “Who knows where I’d be right now without you.” I keep my chin on his chest and look into his eyes. “Thank you. Thank you for tonight and for being the man you are.”

Cole tightens his arms around me and hums with the twinkling lights and the warm blanket now covering the both of us. I inhale the man who loves me wholeheartedly and thank the stars above for bringing him into my life.

*Copyright 2018, Fabiola Francisco 

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What  rollercoaster ride! Let me start by saying a huge thanks to all the bloggers who are participating in the release blitz, all the people who accepted an early copy of this book to review, and the readers who’ve sent me such loving and encouraging messages and share their excitement for this book with me, and patiently waiting for it to release.

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Love You Through It was written in the summer and I waited to release it so I could give it the attention it deserves. Some days I wanted to hit publish on a random Wednesday because the wait was harder on me than you.

This story was born out of one of my biggest fears—losing the man you love. Call it a self-healing journey along with writing this emotional and powerful story. I almost didn’t finish it. I was 25,000 words in last spring and I left it alone, convinced this would be one of the many story ideas I’d shelf for years to come without an ending.

Until I saw a cover for it. I was writing another book at the time, and I bought a cover for Love You Through It, knowing that then I would have to finish it. I would have to push through  my own issues, put myself through an emotional ringer.

And I am so happy I did.

I didn't get the

 

Bri is strong, having experienced something tragic and dealt with it the best way she could. Cole is persistent and patient, offering the woman he’s cared about for years the support she needed. My biggest lesson writing this is that it is possible to open your heart again after you’ve lost the man you love.

What a lesson.

That took some time to sink in. However, I couldn’t think of a better man for Bri than Cole. Together they both find love and a second chance.

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Cole is my daybreak after a constant sense that the sun would never shine again.