by Angie
M. Brashears
Publication
date: October 1st 2016
Genres:
Adult, Contemporary
We’re all just dots. .
.looking for a line.
BLURB
This is a story about two
strangers with nothing but grief in common.
Mason is great at connecting dots
in other people’s life’s, but not so much in his own. His website, The F#ck it
List, is all about connecting sexual requests. Matching never have I ever’s
like a pair of socks. Efficiently. All in an effort to raise money for charity.
That’s all he wants, to give. Why is that so hard?
Chloe’s in denial, but that’s not
going to make the cancer go away. When her doctor gives her an expiration date,
she can’t deny it any longer. It’s time to break the news to family and her best
friend. She thought she’d have more time. There’s things she needs to say. She
needs to be heard, but not by her loved ones. They’ve got enough on their
plates with the diagnosis.
Two Months? Not long enough to do
anything except…dig the hole.
It’s time.
This is Chloe’s story and how she
copes with the end.
Just as there is a song for every
occasion, Chloe has a friend for every occasion.
A pity party friend.
A truth friend.
A fixer friend.
And an end friend. Mason.
Mason and Chloe have nothing in
common but grief. Two dots, floating in a sea of sorrow.
He’s lost his mother. She’s
losing the fight.
When the end is near, is it too
late for a new friend?
One woman’s end journey. Even
when it’s time to get your affairs in order, it’s never too late for an “end”
friend. Someone that will listen? Share your burden, so the family doesn’t have
to. Help with the mess she’s created by keeping secrets. Be there for her best
friend, a shoulder to cry on when the time comes.
It’s one thing to donate money to
a cause.
What about your time, heart and
soul? How much should you be expected to give?
If a stranger asked, could you be
an end friend?
Buy Links:
Until
October 1, 2016 50% or 5.00 from each print book goes to Avon Walk for Breast
Cancer!
All your weight, it falls on me. It brings me down.
Truer words have never been spoken. My family and their feelings,
that’s the weight of my world on my shoulders right now. How
am I supposed to tell my overprotective mother, who freaks out over a
sniffle…that, I’m…dying? My brother, Ronny, out doing his job, protecting us,
battling on the front lines. Is it fair to distract him from his task at hand?
Maybe he gets killed, or maybe his buddy takes a bullet? Why, so I can feel
better? What about dad? Thoughts of the man that stuffs a pink can of mace and
rape whistle in my stocking every year, and my burden just got heavier. And
last but not least, my best friend, Lola. We’ve been the odd couple since the
tampon video in fourth grade. Neat as pin, she never has loose ends, never
commits to anything, no tangles no mess. That’s where I come in. I’m a friggin
mess. Everything I touch gets smudged. Or at least, I’ve been told that, since
as far back as I can even remember leaving a mess. Possibly, Lola’s bored with
her muted tones life, maybe that’s why she steps into my sunshine and rainbows.
Cluttered with dust motes, dancing on sun rays, like spritely fairies. Could
be. So, what happens when I tell her I’m taking the sun with me? Some days, I
can’t get off this sagging futon. Between the pain, the isolation, the guilt,
the secret… I just can’t. I look at the website again. The F#ck It List. A place
to put your Never have I ever… and
you’ll be matched with the right person for you. I’m not interested in the
sexual stuff. I’m so over that, and besides, my boyfriend, well, not
boyfriend, stops by twice a week and we’re compatible enough as it
is. And he’s another one. I broke up with him, so I wouldn’t have to paste a
smile on twice a week and pretend like my world’s not falling apart. I love
him, but man, does he need a lot of coddling. I haven’t brought myself to click
past the privacy screen. That’s not what I’m interested in. The thing my nurse
keeps talking to me about. My chemo nurse, Courtney, whispered to me. “You need
someone to talk to, get things off your chest. I know you don’t want to burden
your family, Chloe, but who takes your burden?” I shrugged, not really caring
one way or the other. “I’ll be dead soon, so who cares? They can bury it with
me.” She smacked my hand, the one without the IV. She was the one who had to
poke around for an hour to find it, so she was protecting it like gold. But her
words were kind. “Just like that. Who do you get to say those things too?
You’re too worried about acting normal for your chemo buddy over there.” Em’s
on her phone. She hates needles. I do too. “You need someone to hear you and
not your cancer, you got me?” Her eyes look so compassionate, so loving I nod.
She rests her hand on top of mine. I didn’t realize I was crying. “It’s my
first time, I’m still a rookie.” I blubber out. She produces a tissue box from
thin air and rubs my hand. “I have a friend; grandson has a website.” She
lowers her voice. “It’s like a sex something or other,” then she’s back to full
volume, “but that’s just to raise money for charity. I know she said he’s
always looking for people with illnesses to help. “I guess my face must look
funny, because she feels the need to add, “not like murder or anything like
that.” I laugh. “Honestly, I was just wondering when this nausea would start to
go away.” She nods, and squeezes my hand. “It doesn’t.” Later, when I’m pumped
full of poison, she presents me with a gift bag. It’s got Band-Aids and
syringes all over it. “Wow, Courtney how’d you know it was my birthday?” She
laughs, “Well it kind of is. It’s your Chemo-day. You’re very first.
Congratulations, kiddo, you made it through. Enjoy. Inside is the softest, most
luxurious cashmere blanket. Pink, with raised dots. “Very chic, Courtney. I
love it!” She hugs me and wraps it around my shoulders. “For the chills,” she
whispers in my ear and I nod. She reaches in the bag and takes out a box of masks.
“Remember your nadir.” There’s hard candies to suck on, for when my mouths dry.
And an oral bag! With a rainbow toothbrush. “Thanks so much, I would’ve never
thought of any of this. On the very bottom, a free month membership to Netflix.
“For when you can’t make it out, but still want to watch something.” “I’m
touched, really.” I use my new blanket, to wipe away a tear. “But I’ll have to
read up on the rules, I don’t know a thing about Netflix.” As I leave, in
search of my chemo buddy, who I haven’t seen in the last thirty minutes,
Courtney calls out to me. “Chloe, did you want me to check on that thing,
Mason’s website?” I think about it. I’ve got nothing better to do. “Sure.” That
was four months ago. I’ll never see her again, chemo’s done dude. I’ll miss
her. But not in the add another brick to the pile way. No, I’ll miss having
someone who listens with their whole self. Two dots, connected by Courtney.
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Author Info
Angie M Brashears is a lover of
everything books. When not writing, she's reading anything she can get her
hands on. She grew up in Southern California, and loves the mountains, hiking
with her dogs, the beach, and of course, Disneyland! She loves music, and loves
singing along to the radio, loud and off-key, performing for anyone unlucky
enough to be in the passenger seat.
Angie loves dark and twisted,
which she refers to as Dark Ever After books, but is known to read an
occasional HEA story as well. When she's not writing, she working, saving
lives. A busy Trauma ER nurse for over twenty years, she gets enough reality in
her life, and is always looking for a story to take her away from the harsh
reality of Emergency Nursing.
If there's football on, she sure
to have a huge party going on to cheer her team on...Go Patriots!
As a new author, she'd love to
hear from you!
Author Links:
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