I can be brutally honest which often gets me in to hot water, but I am never disrespectful.
I may be opinionated, but I am more than willing to listen to the opinions of others.
If you have something to say about a book, feel free to say it here - I will.
Chicks squeal over how wild and yummy I am,
play their silly games trying to tie me down. But I’m free as a bird, doing
what makes life life: kicking extreme-sport-ass!
I base jump, snowboard, bungee jump. I
do anything for the rush.
Then, Ingela blows into town for
college—a cool Swedish blast of trouble. Foulmouthed and runway-gorgeous, the
girl seeps in like poison and melts the freaking brain.
To Ingela I am what chicks were to me:
pastime, leisure, entertainment, pleasure. She’s killing me, and I’m digging
it. There’s a new rush in town! Yeah, I hunt down my highs, and now
the chase is on. I’ll catch her soon enough, just, what’s the deal with her
With Ingela, sex is a dance. A slow
tango where skin flows over skin. It is slick readiness, a quiet welcome. It’s
smooth, warm, right, and all wrong.
On and off. On and off. Again, she’s
wrecked with grief. It’s a reminder of how I destroy her, how crushed
relationships shouldn’t be revived.
We’ve done this for years, now, but clearly
we’re in for more.
Sex is a dance with her. A slow tango where
skin flows over skin. It is slick readiness, a quiet welcome. It’s smooth, warm,
right, and all wrong.
There’s no move she makes I don’t preempt.
When it’s new, I follow. When I’m different, she forms to me. She was the
ground I walked on. The air I worshipped. The first years together she was my
With Ingela, sex is love. It is guilt over
not giving her what she’s worthy of.
This girl. She deserves so much. And I?
I don’t have it all.
The way she looks at me. It’s knives
sharpened and twisting in my gut because the extent of her love is beyond my
capacity. I tell her again, for the seventh time in five years, what the answer
always must be:
“Ingela, I can’t. You are the best person I
know. You deserve someone with the chops to love you hard and forever. I’m not
Again, I’ve reduced her to this; her body,
the one I just took to the skies in ecstasy, wrecks with grief. This is why
tonight is the last time we break up. I hate myself. I have to accept that I
can’t make her happy.
It’s time I quit chickening out, quit
running back to her over a bleak fling and whenever I need solace. To me, she’s
comfort and familiarity. I’ll never stop loving Inga.
But to her, I’m still everything.
The chase is over. Right here, right now,
this is it. Even if it only lasts thirty seconds, the rush of what I’m about to
do floods me and makes me feel. It’s so intense, every muscle in my body goes
rigid with anticipation.
The air is sharp and early-morning raw. I
stare out from my post on an overhang off Firam Peak. Let my eyes judge the
steep drop into the ravine on the backside of the mountain. Jagged granite
walls form unpredictable patterns that crash to the bottom the way I will soon,
and a light dusting of snow contrasts starkly with the somber stone.
I shake my arms. Not to relieve the tension
but to make sure I’m nimble and ready. I didn’t invite my friends Dan and Marek
along today. I’d be better off with someone else around, of course, but nothing
compares to the thrill I experience as I step forward alone. I’m on the edge,
now, in every sense of the word.
I draw in a breath of icy oxygen. Crack my
fingers inside my gloves and adjust the strap on my helmet. I’m ready.
It’s so easy to plunge off the cliff. All I
do is heave up on my toes and extend my arms. A light bend at the knees and I’m
Ah, yes. I fly.
About The Author
Originally from Norway, I moved to the
United States twelve years ago. I hold a Master’s degree in languages
and taught Spanish at college level before settling in at the Savannah College
of Art and Design as an adviser.
I write New Adult fiction, sometimes with a
paranormal twist—like in “Shattering Halos,” published by The Wild Rose Press
in February 24th 2014 and in “Stargazer,” estimated release date, November
2014. The first book I’m self-publishing is the New Adult Contemporary novel
“Pandora Wild Child,” which will make me a proud indie author in October
I specialize in impulsive heroines,
bad-boys, and good-boys running amok. Then, there’s the intense love, physical
and emotional attraction beyond reason—sensory overload for the reader as well
as for the characters. Like in real life, I hope you’re unable to predict what
comes next in my stories.
Yes, so I write what I love to read, and depending
on the reader, you’ll find my books to be a fast-paced emotional
rollercoaster—or disturbing because the struggles of love aren’t your
thing. Here’s to hoping you have the same reading vice as me!