Title:
The Other Side of Summer
Author: Elyse
Douglas
Genre:
Contemporary Romance
Joanna Halloran, a best selling
writer and astrologer, lives in a beach house overlooking the Atlantic Ocean.
After a violent storm, she roams the beach, glances seaward and spots a man
clinging to a piece of wreckage, being tossed helplessly. She dives in and
pulls him to safety. Robert Zachary Harrison is from a wealthy, political
family. As he slowly recovers from a private plane crash, he and Joanna fall in
love and spend passionate and secluded weeks together. But because of family
duty, Robert departs, not knowing Joanna is pregnant.
Twenty five years later, Senator
Robert Harrison is running for President of the United States. In the
midst of a contentious presidential campaign, Joanna’s beautiful daughter, who
has a passion to expose secrets, seeks revenge on the father she has never
met. She also begins a passionate relationship with her father’s adopted
son.
Joanna and Robert must confront the
past and present. While the world watches, they struggle with old
passions and new secrets that could destroy them both.
Author Bio
Elyse
Douglas is the pen name for the married writing team Elyse Parmentier
and Douglas Pennington. Elyse grew
up near the sea, roaming the
beaches, reading and writing stories and poetry, receiving a degree in English
Literature. She has enjoyed careers as an English teacher, an actress and
a speech-language pathologist. Douglas has been a musician,
a graphic designer and an equity trader.
Elyse Douglas,
have completed seven novels: The
Summer Diary, Christmas for Juliet, Wanting Rita, Christmas Ever
After, The Christmas Town, The
Christmas Diary and The Other Side of Summer.
Links
Website: www.elysedouglas.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/elyse.authorsdouglas
Amazon Link: http://amzn.to/1KdVjvg
Book Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R90y3L6eC_U
Book
Excerpts
Excerpt One
Joanna roamed the beach in the windy, unstable afternoon,
shading her eyes as she viewed the expanse of sea. It was after 4 o’clock and the beach was
deserted. The waves were breaking heavy
on the shore. It was one of her favorite
times to walk the beach—just after a storm.
She drifted to the edge of the tide as waves splashed and foamed around
her ankles. The water was cool and
refreshing and helped to ease some of the aching in her right foot. She strolled with her hands locked behind her
back, squinting into the gray moving sky.
She watched the raw surf curve and break across the beach, observing
sandpipers skitter along the edge of the foam, pecking for food.
She lifted the binoculars to her eyes and scanned the
horizon, looking at white caps and distant sails. Smoky white and purple wisps of clouds hugged
the horizon. She picked at the shells
and toed the sand, exploring the stringy seaweed, driftwood and plastic trash,
all pushed to shore by the storm. Again
she pointed her binoculars toward the sea.
She spotted something bobbing in the waves.
She jolted erect, adjusting the focus. At first she thought it was a kayak. She moved toward the water, straining her
eyes. Was it some kind of raft? The current was drawing it toward the shore.
Her eyes shifted, and then focused. She saw a body—a person—clinging to a piece
of something, floating in toward the beach.
It drifted toward a large swell, was seized by the current and then
tossed helplessly, bobbing and twisting in a surging wave. It was a man!
He was desperately holding on.
Joanna dropped her bag and binoculars, darted into the
water, plunged into the cold surf and swam toward him. Coming up for air, she saw him clinging to a
piece of debris, wearing an orange life preserver.
As she closed in, another wave struck, smashing down on top
of them, spinning him away from her. She
dropped under the wave, came up, recovered and relaxed, feeling her shirt
swimming around her. She allowed the
current to do the work; to carry her in the same direction as the man. Drawing near, she kicked and swam, using all
her strength to reach him, before the next charging waves impacted. One threatened, gathering rolling strength,
rumbling toward them like thunder. The
man reached for her weakly, arms flailing, his pallid face stretched in agony.
“Help me…,” he called.
With her outstretched hand, she reached and snagged him by
the collar of his shirt. She yanked him
toward her.
The wave struck.
Joanna wrapped him with her arms as it pounded them, shoving them
carelessly toward the beach.
Together, they thrashed toward shore, gasping. Catching her breath, Joanna struggled to her
feet, stumbling for balance across the rocky bottom. Anchoring herself, she helped the man to find
his footing. She wrapped an arm around
his waist and led him up the beach to safety.
Excerpt Two
Back at the house, Joanna removed the pants and shirts from
the bags and handed them to Robert. They
didn’t speak. When Robert left the
living room to try on the clothes, Joanna sat, stood and paced with the adolescent
body language of desire and nerves.
Robert emerged, feigning a playful, rakish charm, and their
eyes danced and their faces grew flush.
He stood in olive green Khakis and a yellow polo shirt, and for a
moment, Joanna allowed herself to think that she and Robert would fall in love
and grow old together. It was a thought
she’d never had before; not this exceptional and private thought—not even with
her first husband.
When Robert approached and leaned toward her, intimately,
she grew in height. “Joanna…I don’t want
to go just yet. I don’t want to call
them…They’re out there—way out there—somewhere.
I don’t want to go back. Not
now.”
Joanna’s lips parted, as their private passion
expanded. “Then don’t go back. Don’t ever go back.”
Joanna’s muscles softened.
She leaned against the door of her heart and it opened, releasing the
blazing light of desire that she’d tried to smother. She could already feel Robert’s breath on
her. She could hear his voice in her ear,
calling her name in the night. She could
feel his hands exploring her, finding her, delighting her.
It was clear, in that little doorway of light, that she’d
always wanted him. She would reach for
him and close the door behind them.
His face moved close to hers. She felt his warm breath. She felt the raw sexual power of him,
silently reaching for her. His lips
lightly brushed hers. She shivered. She ached for him. Her eyes went vague and unfocused and she
closed them, feeling the sting of tears when his tongue slipped between her
lips and probed her mouth.
She traced his cheekbones with her hand, touched his hair
and ears, fading from consciousness to a rising ecstasy. He broke the kiss gently, and reached for her
hand.
Excerpt Three
Joanna stepped outside, bending into the storm. The cold
pelting arrows didn’t stop her. She
marched down the stairs and angled left, toward the far jagged cliffs, where
piles of fallen rock absorbed the full impact of the angry sea.
She strode rapidly, as if beckoned. Water streamed down her
hair and face. Her fleece sweatshirt grew
heavy, so she tugged it off and flung it away into the sharp wind. She kicked off her sandals.
She lifted her head to the black moving sky, silently
raging at God, at any kind of God. She
cursed him. She advanced steadily toward
the edge of the cliff, looking about hopelessly, lost in a vicious sorrow.
As she approached the rim, lightning violently struck the
cliffs, just missing her. She didn’t
flinch, she didn’t move.
She stepped forward, her toes gripping the very soft edge
of the cliff. Rocks ticked away, falling
70 feet below. Her feet ached from the
cold. She wiped soaking strands of hair
from her eyes and peered down at the towering waves smashing against the rocks. Tears streamed down her face.
How easy it would be, she thought. Then, it would all be
over. The raging storm in her chest
would stop and she’d be at peace. She’d
be away from them all: her father, Robert, the Harrison family. Herself!
But the baby. The
baby!
Slowly, reluctantly, she backed away, in acceptance of the
catastrophe of her life: a lonely, foolish woman who’d allowed herself to
become trapped. A prisoner of her own
stupidity.
She doubled over in pain and fell to her knees, grabbing
her stomach, weeping, her body a spasm of anguish.
She tilted her head back to let the rain beat her face in a
ritualistic punishment and purification.
Wash it all away, she thought.
Wash away all the memories and all the joys and all the pain. Make me clean and new so that my baby will
never have to feel the hurt and treachery of the world! Make my baby perfect, pure and wise. Make my baby strong, resilient and vengeful!
Excerpt Four
Maya went to her mother’s private file cabinet and gave the
top drawer a little tug. It was
locked. Of course. It was always locked. Her mother was a lock freak. Maya grabbed the foot stool, stood, reached
and felt the dusty top closet shelf until she found the key, where she’d found
it last Christmas, when her mother had gone out Christmas shopping.
Back at the file cabinet, she opened it. She pulled out the lower drawer and searched
for the file that was labeled PERSONAL.
Maya snaked her hand into the file and drew out an old yellow envelope
that had JOANNA written on it in very skillful script.
She extracted the yellow creased letter, shook it open and
read it again, just as she had done several times the previous Christmas. The handwriting was clear, the letters
carefully formed.
Dearest Joanna:
I am not a poet or
a writer of sonnets. I’m a practical man
who has had his foundation shaken to the core.
If there were truths I once held as true, they are now questioned. If there were absolutes, they have been
shattered. If life held promise and
clear pathways to success and achievement, they have been obscured and lost.
My darling, I have
simply fallen in love with you. It is
frightening and wonderful. I sometimes
think that when God created heaven and earth—if he did—that love was the one
thing that he kept a secret, deep within the hearts of the blessed and the deserving. I think he probably placed the diamond of it
in very few hearts. But he placed it in
yours, Joanna, and I have benefited from your prodigious intelligence and your
astounding beauty.
I will come back
to you, Joanna. I have to. I have no other choice. Wait for me, my darling. Wait for me. We have many wonderful years
together.
With deepest love,
—I, Robert Zachary Harrison, vow to return to
you.
Maya carefully replaced the letter into the envelope and
returned it to the file. She stared at nothing, her eyes unfocused and filled
with gloomy thoughts. She wanted the father she’d never met to pay for his
sins. She’d wanted him to pay dearly for
his lies. But he would become the next
president of the United States and nothing could stop him… or could she?
Excerpt Five
They slept in the cottage, although neither had slept
much. Joanna now lay in bed alone,
staring into the humid darkness, confused and haunted by feelings of betrayal
and compassion; her mind filled with a virulent strain of anger. She felt betrayed by a capricious world that
promenades romance and love across the movie screens and the pages of steamy
novels, with the false promise of fulfillment and happiness. In magazines, pop songs and TV ads, the
young, with sassy attitudes and adolescent insouciance, gyrate and pose,
licking their fat sensual lips in an invitation to fall under the sinister
spell of Neptune, the planet of illusion.
She knew all this.
She’d written about it in her book, using the symbols and signs of
astrology. She had even used fairy tales
as an example: Cinderella and Snow White.
She had warned her readers about these not so innocent Neptunian stories
and had just stopped short of writing that the naked reality of love often lies
somewhere between deplorable hope and childish despair.
Joanna rolled to her side and stared out the window in an
effort of self-control. The first gray
light of dawn began chasing away shadows.
Her compassion for Robert grew as the aching minutes passed. He had left a few minutes before and was
surely roaming the beach, haggard and conflicted, as he had been most of the
night.
The sun would rise shortly and the unraveling, indefinite
day would begin. The painful process of
separation would begin. Their perfect
lifetime together was coming to an end and she was entirely unprepared for it,
despite all of her astrological “wisdom” and counseling experience. She had conveniently shut out the possibility
that Robert would ever leave. Over the
past weeks, she had completely ignored the inevitable and the obvious: Robert
had another life and he would have to go back to it. She was, after all, the “other” woman.
Joanna had no illusions.
Regardless of whether Robert returned to her or not, their life together
would never be the same. Their
transparent innocence had finally been seen for what it was: a chimera, a
little fairy tale that would have lasted forever, except that there was an
epilogue. A disclaimer: “Dear Reader,
all of the previous pages were written under the influence of self-delusion.”
Morning came with a wet silver light, a brisk wind and a
gentle mist. Joanna dressed in jeans, a
sweatshirt and a jacket, and left the cottage for the house. She paused near the edge of the cliff and
searched for Robert. The surf was
restless. The beach was empty. Where had he gone?
No comments:
Post a Comment