Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
With a resigned sigh, Slade submitted to the exam. He would take the doc’s advice. A hot meal of decent food, a shave and a shower—not to mention a good night’s sleep on something besides a mattress thinner than a bergrath’s shadow—would be welcome after so long in the hole at BleakHall.
And tomorrow he would find her—the pretty little Pairing Puppet of his dreams. The one with wide hips and big brown eyes.
She was waiting there for him—Slade just knew it.
Chapter Two
“Come on, Brandi—live a little! It’ll be fun!”
Brandi frowned at her cousin and crossed her arms over her chest. How many times had Crystal gotten her into trouble with those exact words?
Come on, it’ll be fun! Just try a drink—Peach schnapps is the best!
Come on, Brandi—it’s only one little pill and I promise it’ll make you feel amazing!
Come on, girl—nobody cares if we take one or two things. Everybody does it—just don’t let the clerk see..
And probably the worst one of all…
Come on, Brandi—you have to go with me on this date. Dwayne has this really cute friend called Earl and he wants to come too but we need a date for him. Come on, please?
That last request had landed Brandi is more hot water than all the rest combined. The double date had included waaaay too much to drink and had turned into sex in the back seat of Earl Duckworth’s car which had led to an unplanned pregnancy, the loss of her college ambitions, an unhappy marriage and an even unhappier divorce, all before she hit her mid-twenties.
The only good thing to come out of the whole sorry situation had been Brandi’s daughter—Emmaline.
“What are you namin’ her such a fancy name for?” Brandi’s mother, Ivy-Mae Dixon had demanded when Emmaline was born. “You oughta call something normal like Daisy-Mae or Mary-Grace or Cindy-Lynn. Something pretty like that.”
But Brandi had no intention of naming her daughter anything common. She’s always been a reader and a thinker. In fact, despite occasionally getting dragged into her cousin Crystal’s shenanigans, Brandi had gotten excellent grades at Plant City High School and had been on track to get a modest scholarship before her disastrous date with Earl.
Of course, having Emmie changed all that. She’d had to drop out of school and get a job since Earl’s occasional stints of work at several of the local mechanics shops didn’t exactly make for a steady payday. Then later, after he got busted for dealing and went to jail, she’d had an even harder time making ends meet.
Her dreams of full-time college were gone but she had managed to get her GED and take a few night courses here and there, after the baby was born and before Earl went away—mostly because her stepfather, Bud, was good with kids and willing to babysit. Her mother, Ivy-Mae, was more interested in being a barfly than a grandmother so she was out. And Crystal was too much of a party-girl to trust with Emmie.
But Brandi was intent on bettering herself. She’d managed to land a job in Tampa as a secretary to the branch manager of the Bank of Tampa’s downtown location. True, she had a boss who tried to play grab-ass with her on a daily basis but at least it was better than waiting tables at a dive-bar, which was what Crystal did or working at the Dollar General like her mom.
Despite her status as a single-mom who came from a low-income family, Brandi was determined she was going places—she just didn’t know where or how yet.
But she didn’t always feel so hopeful.
Who am I kidding saying I’m a single-mom from a low-income family? she asked herself grimly, on nights when she was feeling low. I might admit what the rest of the world sees—I come from trailer trash and without a degree it’s nearly impossible to get out of the damn trailer park!
It was true and Brandi knew it. Call it what you wanted—trailer trash…white trash…redneck…Florida Cracker…any and all of those described her family and her lot in life. Sometimes a pessimistic little voice in her head whispered that she was never getting away from it—never getting out of Plant City whose only claim to fame was that they held the annual Strawberry Festival there every February.
You’re stuck here forever, whispered that little voice, and you’re never getting out. And sometimes when it had been an especially bad day of trying to keep away from her groping boss and her mom was drunk and shouting at the neighbors and Crystal was calling to ask to borrow ten bucks for gas money and Emmie asked for the thousandth time what had happened to daddy and why he didn’t live with them anymore…sometimes Brandi almost believed it.
Which was why it had been so surprising when Crystal of all people offered her a way out—at least temporarily.