Our Walk To Remember

Our Walk To Remember.

This is my first novella to be released as part of the Fall Fires anthology, through Renaissance Romance Publishing. The release date is 23rd October 2013, so keep an eye out guys.

Summary:

For the Robinson-Shae family, an annual charity walk means to them more than any expensive holiday abroad. After all, it's where Elisha's fathers met, and this year it's even more important to her. Sammy couldn't make it this time, so she asks Charlie to share memories of how they met, and fell in love.

Excerpt:

I sometimes wonder where her energy comes from. Clearly not from her fathers, who like nothing more than lazy mornings and nights in front of a blazing fire. Sweet memories of waking in Sammy’s arms tease me, reminding me of how he likes to run his fingers through my short, dark hair before pulling my lips to his letting me taste his morning love while he kisses my sleep away.


“Sooner we’re done, the faster we get to Daddy and my aunts,” Elisha giggles. “Just fifteen miles to go.”

Just fifteen! It’s such an easy statement for someone so young and willing to lead the way towards her destination. Elisha laughs at the dismay on my face while we move our feet forward, surrounded by the regulars who have done this same walk for years.

This is the place where I first met my Sammy. Through the bustle of the crowd, I lose myself in memories, taking a moment to think of him again. Everything around my daughter and me is the same as it’s been for so long, just less than perfect without having his melodic laughter as the soundtrack to our day.

Elisha looks back at me and pulls on our adjoined arms, giggling happily to herself while dancing her knee-length, yellow summer dress around her body so it moves with the warm breeze. I forget how much she loves this annual event. We’ve always done it together. She gets excited to see all the people she’s grown up around. I hope she never grows tired of this venture, never loses herself to the world of television and computer games when she could make a difference doing something small, yet huge.

Such thoughts make me shudder, thinking someone as delicate as little Elisha could ever be a slave to the mediocre. Not our baby, no way!

“Tell me again, Dad,” she interjects, turning towards me and smiling with joy. “Tell me about when you met Daddy?”

Her brown eyes sparkle when she looks up at me, lighting her porcelain face. Can a father ever refuse his daughter? How do you say ‘no’ to the product of your love, the person who found a home in your heart without trying and looks to you to lead them along the right paths?

“Again?” I tease. “You know this story so well, you can probably tell it better than me.”

Warmth fills my cheeks, bringing colour back into this aging man’s face while he toys with the light of his life, the only other person he loves without question. So many times Sammy and I have sat before a roaring fire while Elisha recounted our history like she’s reading a book. Her voice is always filled with such passion that we hang on her every word. One would be forgiven for thinking it’s her past she is detailing, but I guess my husband and I never get bored with sharing how we came to be the lovers we are today.

“I like it better when you tell it, Dad. Don’t worry; I will fill in any parts you miss,” she chimes in an assertive manner, and I know without a doubt she will.

“Okay, baby,” I commence, drawing her in close so I don’t have to shout too loud.

I don’t need unwanted ears to hear something that will forever remain unwritten, a story that’s stamped into my heart and is ours alone. Sammy has his own version of the life we share, but this is all from the very soul of Charlie Shae — this is how I found my love.

This shouldn’t be so hard to recollect, but I’ve never had to share our story without my counterpart sitting next to me, relishing my retelling. While the warm breeze runs through my free fingers again, I try to grab onto the emptiness and envision that Sammy isn’t very far away. Sadly, my mind isn’t that creative.

Swallowing the pain, I lose myself to the words flowing from me and find myself on auto pilot.

“It was the summer of 1996. I had just finished college. . .”

Want to add this to your reading list? Follow the links below for my story, and the anthology:

http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18456950-our-walk-to-remember

http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18456705-fall-fires