Finding Me Read online

  There isn’t much more either of us can say in regards to our current situation. Wrong place, wrong time, my brain rationalizes while my heart comes back with a soul crushing ache, a pain so real it feels like someone has just stabbed me in the chest with thousands of random and blunt objects, all at the exact same moment.

  Without warning, Dex leaves me alone in his room. His actions are loud enough for me to understand and rather than dwelling and letting pain engulf me, I know I have to go. Locating the rest of my clothes, scattered over his floor, I swap the used undergarments for clean ones and find something to put on for the day. I need to get out of here, away from the foolish mistake I made. The only saving grace I can think of while gathering my stuff together and silently making my way to his door is that Mom and Dad won’t ever know about this.

  Stuffing my feet into my shoes, I turn the locks and pull the chain aside, hoisting my luggage up. For a minute, I was hoping that Dex would stop me, that he would run up and take me in his arms, tell me everything would be okay.

  But this isn’t a movie. This is real life. My real life, and that stuff never happens to me. I only have myself to rely on here and I need to remember that. I’m here for me, to find out who I am, not to lose my heart.

  Squaring my shoulders, I begin making the trek down the old concrete steps and out onto the street. I take comfort from the hardness of my guitar case strapped to my back, and with the knowledge that I have a place to go to where I can immerse myself deeply in my new job.

  I’m telling myself as I walk down the road, trying to get my bearings, that it doesn’t matter – Dex doesn’t mean anything to me and I don’t mean anything to him. It was a one-time thing. People do this all the time.

  So why does my chest feel tight?

  Ignore it, I tell myself, looking for something, anything familiar to help me get back to the park or downtown. It’s sheer luck that I catch a black Hackney cab driving down the street with its light on and I flag the vehicle down, knowing full well I could waste the entire day trying to find my way to where I need to be on foot.

  Inside the cab, I tell the driver where to take me and slump back in my seat. I resist for a second but then give in and glance behind me. But before I give myself a chance to see that he’s not there, I shut my eyes and face the front again.

  ~~~

  Keep your eye out for the next installment of

  Finding Me to see what happens!

  Thanks for reading

  xox Danielle

  About the Author

  Danielle Taylor has lived in and travelled to many countries. She enjoys many different genres – both writing and reading – and always seems to have a project on the go. Feel free to like her page on Facebook and don’t be afraid to drop her a line.

  Also, find Danielle on the following:

  Twitter @DTaylor_Author

  Website http://authordtaylor.wordpress.com/

  Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/Danielle_Taylor

  Other Titles by Danielle Taylor:

  Captive at Christmas

  (Captive Hearts 1)

  Available now on Amazon worldwide

  Intimate Strangers

  (Captive Hearts 2)

  Available July 1 2013

  Reckless Passion

  (Captive Hearts 3)

  Due out late 2013

  Letting Go

  (Adventures Inc. 1)

  Coming soon

  Coming soon…

  Letting Go

  An Adventures Inc. Novella

  Violet Simon has spent her entire life preparing to take her father’s place at the head of their multi-billion dollar automotive parts company. Shortly before her twenty-fifth birthday, she decides to take a month-long vacation and do a few things well outside of her comfort zone.

  Morné Styger still isn’t over his wife’s death, but he’s attempting to make a fresh start in LA. When the enigmatic Violet calls him up at Adventure Inc. seeking a month of thrills, he’s eager to impress his first high profile client.

  Neither of them could have been prepared for the forceful attraction they shared, and neither will back down from their dreams. So where does that leave love?

  Excerpt:

  “Oh God, oh God, oh God…”

  Deep sensual laughter came through the headset. “Don’t worry, my darling, nothing will go wrong.”

  If I throw up, I’ll choke on it, she thought as someone in uniform secured the helmet and mask for her. The only consolation was the man sitting in front of her. Violet couldn’t see much of anything, other than the sky above her, but she could see Morné’s head, shoulders and his hands every once in a while.

  A flash to her right caused Violet to jump. “Just taking a few photographs so you can prove that you really did fly in a Hornet,” Morné explained. “I’ve set this camera up here to take some while we’re in the air.” He pointed with a gloved hand to a piece of equipment strapped to the control console.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Violet.” Unclipping his harness and removing the helmet, Morné turned in his seat and met her stare. “I’ve flown these before, yes?” She nodded. “If I didn’t feel one hundred percent confident, I wouldn’t be taking you up. I’ve checked the plane over numerous times, as have the flight crew. Everything will be fine, alright?”

  Lost in his eyes, she nodded, soaking up the tranquility he exuded. If only they could fly like this, so she could see into his eyes, she might not be so frightened. It sounded exciting when he mentioned it last night, but this afternoon, sitting in the small cockpit, Violet wanted nothing more than to get out and run far away. She wouldn’t, though. She had to do this and she was pretty sure that, as soon as they got up there, she’d love every second of the flight.

  “Right, are you ready?”

  “Yeah.” Violet gave the guy on the stairs a thumbs up, just like he told her to.

  “Good. Just relax and have fun.”

  “I’ll try,” she whispered.

  Morné switched from friendly chat to flight-checks, calling off what sounded like random words and letters, saying ‘check’ after the flight controller’s voice came over the radio. She heard everything in her headset and the deep, South African accent continued to soothe her frazzled nerves. Soon, Violet saw things outside of the jet beginning to move – wait, they were moving!

  And fast, too. Morné taxied the jet to where they would take off from and remained in contact with flight control. The second they gave him the green light, Violet was thrust back into her seat. She felt like a pancake. Her neck and body compressed as they punched through the air although soon enough, she was comfortable again. Through it all, she managed to keep her eyes open to watch their ascent into the sky.

  “How you doing back there?”

  “Squishy.” His laughter sent spirals of heat through her body that pooled in her lower abdomen. “You?”

  “Perfect. Look up, Violet.”

  Tilting her head back as far as she could, Violet saw nothing but blue skies and bright, nearly blinding sunlight. “Beautiful,” she murmured.

  “Mm-hmm.” He leveled the jet out and Morné quickly glanced over his shoulder. The flash of chocolate eyes raised her body temperature by about ten degrees. “What do you think, should we turn this thing over?”

  The realization hit her in the stomach like when they took off just moments ago. “Uh, you mean um, upside-down?”

  His chuckling rang in her ears. “Yes, I mean upside-down. What do you say, hmm?”

  Violet pondered it, noticing the sound of his breathing, the hum of the engines and her steady pulse. She honestly thought that this would be more terrifying, though the only scary part was taking off. And she survived that with very little increase to her heart rate. “Yeah,” she grinned. “Let’s do it.”

  Less than a second after she finished the sentence, Morné tilted the right wing, moving nice and slow. Then he jerked the yoke and forced the jet to comply with his demand. Violet s
quealed in sheer delight as her heart pounded beneath her ribs. Seeing him controlling this multi-million dollar piece of equipment with such ease and confidence made her feel safe enough not to worry though.

  “Oh my…” Violet looked up – technically it was down, she supposed – to see the ground below. They were high enough that she could see a lot of ground beneath them, but low enough to notice the ridges in the mountains.

  “We’re flying over the Mojave Desert,” Morné informed her. “Once I right us, do you want to take the controls?”

  “Uh…”

  “Violet, darling, we went over everything. It’s simple and straightforward. I will be right here to take over if you feel uncomfortable, alright?”

  Inside of the gloves, her hands were sweating. Her mouth felt as dry as the desert she looked down at. But Violet nodded and said, “Okay.”

  “There’s my girl,” Morné chuckled.

  If they weren’t flying at – well, however fast they were flying – she might have stopped to ask him what he meant by that comment. But all Violet could think about was trying to keep from throwing up as Morné straightened them out and began explaining things once last time before handing over the controls.

  “Are you ready?”

  “What are those terms again? Roll, pitch and…”

  “Yaw.”

  Violet burst out laughing, though it wasn’t her intention. “I’m sorry! It’s just like when you say ‘ja’, I didn’t mean to…” she tried to stop giggling when a sharp female voice chastised her over the radio.

  “What am I going to do with you,” Morné joked as he clicked his tongue a few times. “Ready?”

  Deep breaths, in and out…in and out… “Okay.”

  “Hands on the throttle like I showed you?”

  “Check,” Violet giggled nervously.

  “Cheeky,” he laughed. “Right, you’re in control…nnnow.”

  She sucked in a breath and felt the pull on the stick. Nerves instantly got the better of her and Violet swallowed down the bile rising up her throat. “Okay, Vi, you can do this,” she whispered.

  “You’re doing fantastic, my darling. Pull up a little, just a tiny bit.”

  “Uh-huh.” A tiny bit thrust them higher into the sky and she shrieked. “Sorry! What do I do?” She could barely hear anything over the incessant pounding of her heart.

  “Eyes on the dial and give a gentle push to level us out.”

  Time to get serious. Violet slipped into office mode and gave a slight push to the yoke while keeping her eyes on the instruments. When she saw they were level, she released her grip on the throttle. “Okay, whew. I-I think you should take over again, Morné – I uh, I mean Mr. Styger.”

  “Violet, I think we can drop the formalities, hmm?”

  What’s he trying to do? “Okay, fine, just please…”

  The horizon shifted to the left and she gripped the yoke, trying to right it. But left was right and up was down, nothing worked the way she thought it would. Her heart jumped into her throat. “Morné, please!”

  “Violet, relax. Take a deep breath and release your grip until you feel a slight drop in your stomach, sweetheart.”

  Slight drop in my stomach? She didn’t question him though, Violet released her grip and felt that sinking feeling; just like when she and her father drove up to the cottage over the winding and hilly roads. Hopefully he would take over now.

  “Good job. See how easy that was?”

  “Easy? I feel like I’m going to be sick.”

  Morné chuckled. “You’re a natural. Perhaps you’d prefer a small plane next?”

  “I don’t travel in small planes,” she admitted, a sense of relief flooding through her body as the yoke went stiff.

  “I’ve got the controls now.”

  “Thank you.” Sighing, she let her shoulders fall and closed her eyes for a moment.

  “So tell me why you don’t travel in small planes, and yet here you are sitting in a US military jet?”

  Purely an instinctive move, Violet placed a hand on her lower abdomen. Even under the flight suit and her clothing, she could feel the scar. “I was eleven and flying in a Cessna business jet to go and visit my father in Calgary with some of his associates. The plane went down.” She couldn’t finish the story, not with the ball of emotions in her throat.

  “Oh, Violet.”

  When he spoke with compassion, Morné’s voice took on a completely different tone. She was getting used to them now. But it still didn’t take away the ache in her heart from the memory, and the news she received during her recovery. “It’s okay. This is helping.” Violet took a deep breath. “You’re helping,” she whispered.

  “Good.” Morné coughed a few times, grumbled something incoherent and straightened his shoulders. “It’s almost time to head back. Anything you wanted to do before then?”

  She thought for a minute. “Surprise me.”

  ~~~

  Sneak preview of:

  Book I in the

  Captive Hearts Series:

  Captive at Christmas

  It doesn't need to be Christmas to read this steamy novella...

  When her life seems to be falling to pieces, Hannah Magnus decides to spend Christmas away from her Vancouver home. She crosses the border into Washington State and locates the idyllic cabin that will serve as her home for the next two weeks.

  Mackenzie Dunlop is a man of action and reaction. A creation of his past and his profession. When he travels to the cabin he'll be in until the repairs on his house are complete, there's a surprise waiting...and Mac loathes surprises.

  Thrown together in the least likely of circumstances, Mac and Hannah find solace in each other after a harrowing event. But once they leave, will they be able to get on with their lives apart?

  Excerpt:

  “Christ,” Mac sighed, raking his free hand through the thick, dark hair atop his head.

  The trees thinned out to reveal a small cabin, one of a few deluxe yet compact holiday retreats on the mountain. As he parked the dark bullet-proof SUV, Mac’s instincts kicked into high gear at the sight of a car.

  Small and white, it hid beneath a growing snowdrift and a less experienced person might assume that it had been there a while. With the amount of snowfall in the past few hours though, he knew it hadn’t been there more than two hours at the most.

  After a cursory glance around satisfied his suspicions that no one waited in the snow to ambush him, Mac stepped out of the vehicle. The cold steel of a hopefully unnecessary weapon touched the hardened muscles of his abdomen as he tucked it in the waist of his jeans. His soundless approach took him around the cabin but again, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Whoever belonged to the vehicle must be inside.

  With a simple twist, he found the door unlocked and reached for the concealed weapon, now warmed by his flesh. Though no one could be seen inside of the main living area of the cabin, Mac heard a sound. Motors – a whirring noise. Familiar, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on what the source of it might be coming from.

  Content to believe that no assassins hid in the kitchen or the sitting area, he turned right and headed for the closed door. Again, he made a silent entrance into the room; a bedroom with an enormous king sized bed, just like he asked for. As a man standing at six feet, six inches, the usual beds simply wouldn’t do. How he could hardly wait to sink into its comfort after driving for nearly fifteen hours straight…

  Something caught his eye and Mac dropped noiselessly to the floor with the gun in his hands. A large whirlpool tub to the left, sitting in the corner of the room next to floor-length uncovered windows was swirling away. He noticed it from the outside of the house but what he didn’t see from the outside was the empty wine glass sitting on the wooden step or the tuft of brown hair hanging over the edge.

  Using stealth afforded to him from years of tactical training, Mackenzie edged nearer to assess the threat. When he reached the steps, he knelt and pushed himself up slowly
, powerful thighs, raising him evenly and without pause or strain. Creamy pale skin poked out from the rapids in the tub – belonging to a woman. His eyes widened as the swell of her cleavage was jostled by the streams of water. Though she had the appearance of an angel and not that of a hired hit-man – or rather, woman – Mac knew better.

  After a moment’s thought, he settled himself on the edge of the tub and held the muzzle less than an inch from her temple. “Who the fuck are you and what the fuck are you doing in my cabin?”

  Her eyes flashed open and pink lips formed a surprised ‘O’. She did not speak, nor scream when she saw the gun. Every inch of her body became rigid but seconds later, began to tremble.

  Mac repeated himself, barking the words. “Who are you?”

  “H-Han-nah M-Mag-nus,” she stammered.

  The woman seemed genuinely terrified, but he had seen something all too similar to this once before. Allowed himself to be duped by a doe-eyed female. Never again. “Hannah Magnus. Do you have any identification to prove your claim?”

  Hannah took a sharp intake of breath. “P-purse, b-by the b-bed.”

  Throwing his gaze over, he saw the black leather bag and the corner of a leather wallet sticking out. “Don’t move,” he warned, moving slowly towards it. Mac grabbed the entire bag and brought it back to the side of the tub. Inside of the wallet, he found all of the usual forms of identification. Twenty-six, just had her birthday a few months ago. Canadian, he found her passport in the bag too. But all of this could easily be falsified. “Who sent you?”