Title: Love, Always
Author: Yessi Smith
Genre: New Adult, Contemporary Romance
Genre: New Adult, Contemporary Romance
Release Date: September 14
**This book is intended for a mature reading audience and isn't suitable for readers under the age of 17.**
In love with a man on the brink of greatness, Dee has her life figured out. The love they share is comparable only to the love they feel when they find out Dee is pregnant. Josh and Dee welcome their future together with eagerness as they plan a wedding, baby, and the upcoming tour for Josh’s band Wasted Circle. Big things are finally happening.
During Wasted Circle’s first big show, tragedy strikes leaving Dee alone. The life her and Josh planned for ends up being nothing but desolate promises. Unable to watch his best friend’s girlfriend drown under her own despair any longer, Adam steps in to help Dee cope with her loss and the upcoming birth of her baby. Adam is patient, kind and unrelenting. He stands by her side, never faltering despite his growing desire to be more than Dee’s supportive shoulder and the idea that he is betraying Josh. He refuses to give up on Dee and remains loyally by her side even when she admits herself into a psychiatric ward and he is left to father Josh and Dee’s baby.
But even sweet and sturdy Adam has his limits.
Shit.
I reach my trembling fingers down and feel the sticky wax between my legs. I rub the strip back over the wax, hoping it’ll stick this time, to no avail.
This isn’t happening. Please, this can’t possibly be happening.
I reach for the package the wax came in and with it in my hand. I sit on the toilet lid, reading to see if there’s any emergency instructions. Nope. Nada.
Maybe warm water. I go to stand up to run a warm bath, but am barely able to inch upward.
I’m stuck to the toilet lid! With my hands on my face, I start to laugh until tears pour out of my eyes. I’ve glued myself to the damn toilet!
“Hayley!” I yell through my hands and tremble in laughter when she peeks in.
“What is it, babe?” She rushes to my side with worry seeping through her pores, which causes me to laugh harder. She rubs her hand over my back trying to console me until I can contain myself.
“I’m not crying.” I wipe the tears from my face and she arches her eyebrows at me. “Okay, I am crying, but I’m fine. Or I will be. I just need your help.”
I explain my dilemma to her, and within seconds she is lying by my side on the floor in hysterics. At least I keep my life amusing.
“Okay,” she breathes. “Okay. Maybe the package.” She picks it up, but I tell her I’ve already read through it. “Did you follow the instructions?”
“I let it cool down a bit too much I think,” I admit. “Maybe if I run a warm bath it’ll come off.”
“So we just need to get you off the toilet.”
I nod. “First run the bath.”
“We need a first aid kit. Just in case.”
“Right.”
A first aid kit. For my inner butt. I should probably blog about this.
Hayley leaves me as she searches for my stash of antiseptic and band aids. Maybe she’ll find my pride along with it.
She returns quickly with a handful of crap and a big grin on her face. “You’re tweeting about this, aren’t you?”
I shrug. “No such thing as TMI on social media.”
Hayley puts her hand under my arm and we nod at each other. “Count of three,” she whispers. “One, two, three.”
With her help, I stand up hard, taking the toilet lid with me. Well at least I’m no longer stuck to the whole toilet.
Hayley looks at me, and I’m afraid I’m going to burst into real tears. I have a toilet lid stuck to my ass.
“Well, there’s a fashion statement.” Hayley grins, and I gently sit back down with my new appendage.
“Think Adam will notice?” I smile back.
“He’ll probably think you’ve been swiping fast food when he’s not looking.”
“What am I gonna do, Hayley?” I half-laugh, half-cry into my hands.
“I have an idea.”
I follow her into my bedroom and hold onto the bed frame as instructed while I wait for her to pull the lid off.
“Count of three?” she asks and I shake my head.
“Surprise me.” I close my eyes and grip my bed tightly.
Surprise me she does when she yanks the lid clean off, breaking it into two pieces, and lands on her butt. I’m too tired to yell from the pain, but manage a few giggles when I see my friend holding the broken lid triumphantly over her head like some warped version of the Incredible Hulk.
I reach between my legs again and whimper when I feel the glue still there.
“That’s what the warm water’s for,” she reminds me.
“But what if I get stuck to the bottom of the tub?”
“Don’t let your ass touch the bottom, stupid.”
“I’m not the one holding two broken pieces of a dirty toilet, asshole.”
Hayley drops the lid with a hard thud and glares at me. “Who glued themselves to that same toilet, dipshit?”
“You girls okay?” Max calls through the door.
“Yes,” we sing in unison and start to laugh once again.
“Warm bath.” I nod, hoping I remember not to let my ass touch the bottom.
“You want a wash cloth?” she asks, but then laughs, probably picturing it stuck to me as well.
I step into the tub on weak knees and exhale slowly as I get ready to not quite sit in the tub.
“Oil!” Hayley exclaims, pulling me out of my tub. She reaches for the box and dumps the rest of the contents on my bathroom countertop, squealing when the small tube of oil falls out.
“I’m an idiot.”
“World class jackass,” she agrees.
“Out.” I push her towards the door but she plops herself on the floor adamant to see the grand finale of this performance.
I glare at her without much vehemence. I’m far too excited to see if the oil will work. I rub my fingers together with the oil and run them over the glue, which miraculously begins to dissolve.
I shriek in delight, pouring more oil all over my hand and enthusiastically rid myself of the wax while Hayley snorts behind me.
I reach my trembling fingers down and feel the sticky wax between my legs. I rub the strip back over the wax, hoping it’ll stick this time, to no avail.
This isn’t happening. Please, this can’t possibly be happening.
I reach for the package the wax came in and with it in my hand. I sit on the toilet lid, reading to see if there’s any emergency instructions. Nope. Nada.
Maybe warm water. I go to stand up to run a warm bath, but am barely able to inch upward.
I’m stuck to the toilet lid! With my hands on my face, I start to laugh until tears pour out of my eyes. I’ve glued myself to the damn toilet!
“Hayley!” I yell through my hands and tremble in laughter when she peeks in.
“What is it, babe?” She rushes to my side with worry seeping through her pores, which causes me to laugh harder. She rubs her hand over my back trying to console me until I can contain myself.
“I’m not crying.” I wipe the tears from my face and she arches her eyebrows at me. “Okay, I am crying, but I’m fine. Or I will be. I just need your help.”
I explain my dilemma to her, and within seconds she is lying by my side on the floor in hysterics. At least I keep my life amusing.
“Okay,” she breathes. “Okay. Maybe the package.” She picks it up, but I tell her I’ve already read through it. “Did you follow the instructions?”
“I let it cool down a bit too much I think,” I admit. “Maybe if I run a warm bath it’ll come off.”
“So we just need to get you off the toilet.”
I nod. “First run the bath.”
“We need a first aid kit. Just in case.”
“Right.”
A first aid kit. For my inner butt. I should probably blog about this.
Hayley leaves me as she searches for my stash of antiseptic and band aids. Maybe she’ll find my pride along with it.
She returns quickly with a handful of crap and a big grin on her face. “You’re tweeting about this, aren’t you?”
I shrug. “No such thing as TMI on social media.”
Hayley puts her hand under my arm and we nod at each other. “Count of three,” she whispers. “One, two, three.”
With her help, I stand up hard, taking the toilet lid with me. Well at least I’m no longer stuck to the whole toilet.
Hayley looks at me, and I’m afraid I’m going to burst into real tears. I have a toilet lid stuck to my ass.
“Well, there’s a fashion statement.” Hayley grins, and I gently sit back down with my new appendage.
“Think Adam will notice?” I smile back.
“He’ll probably think you’ve been swiping fast food when he’s not looking.”
“What am I gonna do, Hayley?” I half-laugh, half-cry into my hands.
“I have an idea.”
I follow her into my bedroom and hold onto the bed frame as instructed while I wait for her to pull the lid off.
“Count of three?” she asks and I shake my head.
“Surprise me.” I close my eyes and grip my bed tightly.
Surprise me she does when she yanks the lid clean off, breaking it into two pieces, and lands on her butt. I’m too tired to yell from the pain, but manage a few giggles when I see my friend holding the broken lid triumphantly over her head like some warped version of the Incredible Hulk.
I reach between my legs again and whimper when I feel the glue still there.
“That’s what the warm water’s for,” she reminds me.
“But what if I get stuck to the bottom of the tub?”
“Don’t let your ass touch the bottom, stupid.”
“I’m not the one holding two broken pieces of a dirty toilet, asshole.”
Hayley drops the lid with a hard thud and glares at me. “Who glued themselves to that same toilet, dipshit?”
“You girls okay?” Max calls through the door.
“Yes,” we sing in unison and start to laugh once again.
“Warm bath.” I nod, hoping I remember not to let my ass touch the bottom.
“You want a wash cloth?” she asks, but then laughs, probably picturing it stuck to me as well.
I step into the tub on weak knees and exhale slowly as I get ready to not quite sit in the tub.
“Oil!” Hayley exclaims, pulling me out of my tub. She reaches for the box and dumps the rest of the contents on my bathroom countertop, squealing when the small tube of oil falls out.
“I’m an idiot.”
“World class jackass,” she agrees.
“Out.” I push her towards the door but she plops herself on the floor adamant to see the grand finale of this performance.
I glare at her without much vehemence. I’m far too excited to see if the oil will work. I rub my fingers together with the oil and run them over the glue, which miraculously begins to dissolve.
I shriek in delight, pouring more oil all over my hand and enthusiastically rid myself of the wax while Hayley snorts behind me.
I'm a Hispanic living in South Florida with my redneck husband from Texas and our "half breed" son, who is actually the reason I started writing again after years of celibacy. My son loves stories, but not the kind you can read in an existing book. No, he'd rather make up a story, complete with our own illustrations. So, thank you, Son, for igniting a flame I had let go out.
I also live with two dogs: a neurotic Border Collie we call Nitro and a midget Rottweiler named Nisa.
I have always found my sanctuary at the beach and in music and writing. I wish I could write rhymes so I could become a famous rapper, but rhyming is completely lost on me. My son surpassed me in the rhyming game by the time he was four. This is something I am very proud of.
I have a Bachelor's degree in Business Management and a Master's in Human Resource Management. I have held several jobs, from picking up dog poop to upper management positions. And now I am hoping to leave the business world behind so I can live full time in a world that does not exist until I place my fingers on a keyboard and bring them to fruition.
I published my first book Life's A Cappella last year.
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