Side By Side Synopsis
What would you do if your childhood best friend, your soul mate, and the one person that means more than anyone else in the world was suddenly in front of you after disappearing from your life ten years ago?
Would you risk your stable life, to allow them back in to your heart, even after they had left you without any explanation?
Katy Lou Reynolds needs to make a choice. She can either ignore the fact that Elijah Trent is standing in the middle of the cage about to fight, or she can face him and demand answers as to why he left her.
Is it worth risking her heart for her one true love even though she knows it may get broken again, or is it better to let him walk away?
***
When Katy Lou tags along with her boyfriend to an Underground Cage fight, the last thing she expects to find in the ring is her childhood best friend, Elijah. Seeing him again brings back distant memories - a drunken mother, an absent father and relentless school bullies. Most of all, it re-awakens the feelings she had for him. Elijah has always held her heart; but after he left her when they were fourteen, without a word, can she risk everything to let him back in to her life again?
Elijah is a great fighter. He channels all the aggression he suffered at the hands of an abusive father in to every fight, every time. His success feeds his lifestyle of new cities and endless women, eager to spend time with him. His one regret has always been leaving behind his best friend, Katy Lou. There's nothing he wouldn't give to see her again, but if he does, would she forgive him for leaving her and risk her heart?
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Excerpt
The shrill beeping of the alarm wakes me at
seven on the dot like it does every other morning. I rub my eyes to rid them of
sleep and run a hand over my face recalling the fact that I have dreamt about
Elijah for the fifth night in a row, which is never a good sign. I have dreamt
of him; of that day on and off for the nine years since he walked out of my
life without so much as a goodbye. No words, no letter, no conversation, just
nothing. No life, no Elijah and nothing. That was the day I felt like my world
imploded and crashed around me, so I guess I should call this recurring dream a
nightmare, because every time I wake from it I feel the absolute dread in my
stomach with the realization that he is gone.
He. Is. Gone.
I look to my right and see Jacob’s dark head
buried in to the pillow beside me. Jacob, my boyfriend. We’ve been together on
and off for two years. I love him but I am not in love with him. I was
once, but not now. He is convenient, comfortable and nice to me, so we stay
together. I know he feels the same way as me. I see how his eyes flare when
tall, shapely women pass by. I see how he lusts after them with dark eyes. Dark
eyes that used to look at me like that, but no more. He rolls to the side and
places a heavy arm across my stomach. “Morning babe,” he says with a deep
gravelly voice.
I place my hand over his on my stomach because
the contact feels good and I roll closer to him, burying my face in to his neck
to catch his scent and to snuggle close. I have always been a tactile person, I
like touching and I like the feel of Jacob’s arms around me. I attribute that
to Elijah. He was the first person to wrap me up in his strong arms, squeeze me
and make me feel safe.
My Elijah, only he’s not mine anymore.
You’d think I’d be over it by now. The dreams
always bring it all back. I don’t have them very often, but when they come back
they come back with a vengeance. I rub my hand roughly over my head as if it
will help to rid my mind of my thoughts.
Of him.
It’s hard to forgive and forget when you had
your soul mate and you lost him. I know I was only fourteen and what would I
have known about soul mates at that age.
Right?
Wrong!
I knew.
I knew with every fiber of my being that he was
it for me. It was a bone deep, gut wrenching feeling that I fear I will never
have again for the remainder of this life.
I give Jacob a squeeze and then pull back the
covers to make my way to the bathroom.
“Where are you going?” Jacob groans from the
bed, rolling on to his side before scooting up against the headboard.
“I have to write today. I told you yesterday. I
have a deadline in a week and I have to meet it.”
“Damn,” he says, “I was hoping I could get some
action this morning.” He raises his eye brows as he reclines on his elbows,
revealing his tanned chest and abs as the cotton sheet pools around his waist.
He gives me that smile that snagged me in the beginning and his left dimple
makes an appearance.
I laugh as I disappear through the bathroom
door, “Sorry babe, no can do this morning.”
I hear him groan as I reach in to the shower
cubicle and turn the water on hot. I want to wash away my dream, and my
thoughts and this life. I would if it was possible, but I know it’s not.
This is my life.
This is where I have ended up and I have to
grab it by the horns and live it because I can’t have a different life no
matter how much I may want it.
***
I am a writer.
It’s the one thing about my life that I like.
Hell, I love!
I think my writing is a way for me to escape
the reality of what I live. I pour every emotion, every wish, every dream and
every hope in to every book that I write. It’s made my novels very popular and
I have a great fan base. My third novel was the one that got me a traditional
publishing deal and now my books grace the shelves of book stores and the screens
of e-readers all over the world. My genre is romance and every hero I have in
every book I write is based on Elijah. He’s the only one I can even think about
using as a muse, and the women who read my books adore it.
Like me, they adore him.
I dig deep each time I write a new leading man
and stretch my mind back to my childhood best friend who loved and protected me
from the age of three when he moved next door to me until he disappeared from
my life at fourteen.
My childhood best friend who protected me from
bullies at school who would chase me home. The same bullies that would tease me
about my alcoholic mother.
My childhood best friend who lived his own
nightmare with an abusive father.
Hell, I need to shake these dreams.
I settle down at my laptop, open up the file
that I have been working on and continue to edit my current masterpiece. I have
to hand it over to my editor next week and I still have ten chapters to review.
I’m a bit of a perfectionist so this can be a long and laborious task for me.
Jacob appears in the doorway, freshly showered
and looking yummy in his sweats and a tight grey t-shirt that shows off every
plane of his magnificent chest. “I’m out of here Katy.” He saunters over and
places a wet kiss on my cheek. “You remember that we have the fight tonight
right?” he asks.
Shit! I forgot about that. Jacob loves going to
underground cage fights, the type where they use mixed martial arts to just
about kill one another. I hate it, but I go with him because he enjoys it and I
guess that in some dark recess of my mind, I like to use some of what I see in
my novels. I admit that a few of my leading men have been fashioned on the
occasional ripped body of some of the fighters that have graced the ring. That
said, there is so much I would rather be doing than watching guys throw punches
and kick one another to the point that one or both are covered in blood, but I
put up with it for Jacob.
“I haven’t forgotten,” I lie.
“Great, I’ll pick you up at seven then. Be
ready.” He places another kiss, this time a soft, dry one to my lips, before he
grabs his car keys from the buffet by the door and heads out. “Later,” he calls
back.
I hear the front door close with a soft click
as I lean back in my chair and rub my hands across my face again. These dreams
are disrupting my sleep and that in turn disrupts my ability to think clearly
and concentrate on my writing. I head to the kitchen for coffee. I make it
strong and black and return to my computer with it in hand, hoping that it will
somehow contain the magic brew that will wipe all the thoughts, dreams and
memories from my jumbled mind so I can get back in to the job at hand.
The afternoon passes in a blur of words and
typing and before I know it I need to drag my sorry self out of the chair and
get ready before Jacob comes to get me. The venues for these fights are usually
old, barren and very cold so I always dress warm. I pull on a sweater over my
faded skinny jeans and grab a bright scarf that I twist artfully around my neck
so that it both warms me and adds a fashion statement. I pull my hair back in
to a messy bun and add some small silver dangling earrings with little stars
hanging from the ends to my ear lobes to complete the look. A brush of mascara
and a swipe of gloss and I’m done.
I run to my room to grab a clutch and fill it
with just the essentials, my money, ID, gloss and phone. Just as I am fastening
the clasp, the doorbell rings. I move to grab it and snag my foot on the stool
by the door of my bedroom. The heel of my ankle boot catches and I fall, hard.
“Ouch!” I yell. I grab my ankle that feels like it is twisted and try to get my
boot off to rub it.
“Katy!” I hear Jacob say from the other side of
the front door, “Are you okay?”
“Use your key Jacob and come in here,” I call
back, “I tripped.”
Jacob appears in a blur at my bedroom door and
lifts me effortlessly from the floor, moving both of us to the end of my bed
and helping me to remove my shoe. “What did you do?” he asks as he places his
long fingers around my foot and starts to rub it.
I feel like a total idiot. “Don’t ask.” I groan
back.
“Should we just stay in?” he asks, but I see
the disappointment in the crease between his eyes. He lives for these damn
fights.
“No, we should still go,” I respond. “Can you
go grab me some anti-inflammation cream from the cabinet under the sink in the
bathroom? I’ll put that on it and I’ll be good to go.”
He places me gently on the edge of the bed and
moves towards the bathroom door. “You sure?” he asks.
I nod, “Yep, I need to get out, I’ve been
indoors typing all day. I want to go.”
Jacob returns and softly applies the cream to
my ankle and foot. The entire room fills with the methyl salicylate smell that
comes with these balms. I don’t mind it; it smells like a locker room after a
really good football game. Jacob replaces my sock and helps me to carefully put
my boot back on. “Maybe you should wear flats tonight Katy?” he presses.
If there is one thing he should know about me,
it is that I do not compromise my footwear for anyone. Shoes make the outfit.
They also happen to be my weakness. One look in my walk-in robe and anyone
could see that. I have a lot of shoes. Close to a hundred in fact, not that I
would ever admit that to anyone.
“I’m not wearing flats,” I scoff. “These boots
make my legs look long and skinny.”
Jacob runs his hands up the outside of my
thighs, “Katy, your legs don’t need shoes to make them look great.” He can be
such a sweetie sometimes, and in those moments I feel guilty that he is not
with some girl that worships at his feet.
“Let’s go,” he says. I take his proffered hand
and he helps me to stand. I grimace as my foot takes my weight but once I take
a few steps I’m fine. It hurts, but not badly, it’s bearable. We settle in to
Jacob’s jeep – which is midnight black, unlike my matching red one – and he
pulls out in to the traffic, weaving our way across town to the underground.
***
The place is full tonight. There are a lot more
people here than previous fights I have been to. We are all squished in to rows
of temporary seating that have been brought in to surround the cage-like
structure in the middle of the room. Some people hold banners and signs and
chant as they wait for their heroes to take to the canvas stage that graces the
room. Jacob is excited, he gets all touchy-feely and giggly before the fights
start and he is that way now. He keeps nuzzling the side of my neck just under
my ear. It was cute the first few times, and now it is starting to annoy me.
The announcer’s voice comes across the
speakers, bellowing in to the room. “Ladies and Gentleman, welcome. WELCOME!”
The cheers and chants ramp up to a deafening level and I am tempted to stuff my
fingers in to my ears to block it out. Jacob is on his feet beside me clapping
and cheering through the hands he has cupped around his mouth.
The voice booms back through the speakers,
“Tonight we have the undefeated champion up first. He’s all yours; welcome your
man, Johnny, the Jaws Jackson!”
Lose Yourself by Eminem is pounding through the large
speakers and filling the room.
The crowd goes ballistic. I’ve seen this guy
fight before. He is lethal. He doesn’t hold back once that bell goes and I have
never seen an opponent of his win against him. He makes his way in to the room
amongst blaring music, followed by his entourage that includes a number of
scantily clad women with hairdos that are too big and breasts that spill from
their too-small tops. They hang on to his arms as he skates through the crowd
making his way to the cage. He jumps on to the canvas and removes his long
black silk robe, throwing it to one of his team that waits in the corner of the
ring before jumping around the middle of the stage throwing mock punches in the
air. The crowd cheers and this only serves to rev him up more. He cups his ear
with his hand egging them on to scream louder, and they do.
“Now for his opponent,” the announcer bellows,
“we have a new fighter gracing the cage tonight ladies and gentlemen. That’s
right, a virgin for Jaws to sink his teeth in to.” The crowd cheers
even louder at the thought of the bloodbath that is about to take place here.
“Let’s welcome to the cage, Eli the
Terminator Trent.”
Every nerve in my body suddenly fires up. Blood
is rushing through my veins and pooling in my ears like a waterfall. All I can
hear is the gushing sound as I rise to stand next to Jacob to try and get a
glimpse of this guy. Standing on my tip-toes, I crane my neck to try and get a
view over the heads in front of us.
Eli Trent.
What are the chances?
Shut Up, by the Black Eyed Peas is screaming through
the speakers as the crowd roars. I hate that song. It evokes bad memories for
me.
He rounds the corner coming from the same
direction as Johnny just did. He wears a dark blue silk robe with a hood that
currently covers his face. The Terminator is embroidered on the back
of it in silver lettering. Just like Johnny, three barely-dressed girls hang
from his arms as he makes his way through the crowd, which is still yelling and
screaming with anticipation. He climbs up in to the cage with strength and
grace and turns his back to me to remove his silk robe and hands it to his
trainer. He starts to jump about to stay warm and punches the air in front of
him to show his form. The muscles in his back are ripped and you can see them
working under his tanned skin with every punch he throws.
He bumps hands with his trainer and turns
around.
That’s when I see his face.
It’s Elijah.
Nine years older, but I know it’s him. I can
tell by his eyes and those arms and that hair and those lips.
There is no mistaking it, none.
It’s. My. Elijah.
Wendy Louise Bio
Hi, I’m Wendy Louise. I’m a wife and mum living in Melbourne, Australia. I love to read and write, and I somehow managed to fit writing this book in between my regular day time duties, which include a full-time job and life in general with two busy children.
Two years ago I was diagnosed with breast cancer. After many surgeries and treatments, I learnt that life is short and you need to grab it while you can. I always wanted to write, and I realised that it was now or never.
You can usually find me with a few books on the go at once – whether that be reading them, or writing them. I love chocolate and trashy reality TV. It’s not unusual for me to combine all these and attempt to write, while watching an episode of the Kardashians or The Bachelor, and devouring a block of Cadbury Dairy Milk…..
I am so excited to bring ‘Side by Side’ to you all. It has been such a labour of love for me. I presently have four other novels nearing completion, so I am excited to follow this up with many more.
I hope you enjoy reading Elijah and Katy’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
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