Describe yourself in
five words or less.
Imaginative, intense, quirky,
obsessive, loyal.
Can you tell us a
little about Next To You?
This book is about Dan
and Becca, two people who had a difficult upbringing. They were best friends,
lovers but Becca’s past prevented her to move on and have a full happy life.
Can you share your
favorite scene?
Blaine Frank
disembarks the elevator, just as I board it. He nods and says nothing. I
thought he’d be working on site today, and my gut tells me he’s coming from the
sixth floor and didn’t visit my office. I hate this feeling of jealousy. He has
a thing for Becca, I’d have to be blind not to notice the way he looks at her.
My hands curl into fists and the childish wish that Rusty peed on his shoe,
again, crosses my mind. That should teach him to stay away from Becca. Fuck,
I’m behaving like a green-eyed boyfriend, when I’m not even a friend of hers.
Aside from a couple of work related meetings, the most intimate moments we’ve
shared have happened in the break room, when we both wanted to use the espresso
machine.
“Oh no, please, you
use the espresso machine first. I’ll be back later,” both of us say and leave
the break room. As a rule, I wait between thirty minutes to an hour for her to
evacuate the premises. I’ve no doubt she does the same, because we both observe
the same fucked up pattern. What happened to Becca preparing my cappuccino, or
the other way around? Why don’t I prepare her a hot chocolate with extra foam?
That fucking elephant she described is getting huge and one of these days we’ll
have to move to a new building so the animal has room to grow.
The rage that clenches
my insides, including my head and perhaps my heart takes me on a detour to
Becca’s office, where I find her kneeling next to a chair, with a roll of paper
towels and two different cleaners. One logo portrays a sadden beagle on top of
a carpet. Seeing Rusty inside his playpen with a puppy pout and her ranting,
softness my anger.
“We don’t pee on our
guests, Rusty. What kind of behavior is this?” When Rusty spots me, he wags his
tail, as if I should praise his behavior. Which I would, if Becca wouldn’t
chide me right along with him. From the sounds of this and Blaine’s earlier
sour puss face, I deduce my dog knows how to behave and keep away undesirable
male attention. The female in front of us doesn’t appreciate that behavior
though. “If you continue like this, I’ll have to keep you at home. Why don’t
you pee on Daniel? Now that’s something I would enjoy.”
What’s one thing you
won’t leave home without?
My iPad
Name three things on
your desk right now.
Bottle of water, books
and laptop.
If you could trade
places with anyone for just one day, who would you be?
Any person that has
complete access to the Smithsonian museum.
You have been granted
the use of one superpower for one week.
Which power would you choose, and what would you do with it?
Telepathic
manipulation, I’ll have everyone following my orders without having to say
anything. Clean house, the opportunity of driving an Aston Martin for a day,
walking anywhere I want without having to ask for permission—museums, English
castles…the possibilities. World Domination for one day.
What are some books
that you enjoyed recently?
After
finishing Where Life Takes You, the original idea had been to write it from
both POV’s. However after sending the first draft to my editor and my beta
reader, we concluded that it was best to write it only from Dan’s. However here
is one of the scene’s from Becca’s POV, while she’s away:
Crouched into a little human
ball, I remain in the corner of the floor inside my ten by ten foot new room
rocking back and forth. The cozy bed remains undone, covers on the floor and I
shiver from the nightmare I just had. The picture of Dan and I siting on the
night stand stares at me. Ty’s family watches me from the small desk. For me,
for them, for a better future, I repeat to myself while steading my breaths. My
progress in the last three months is outstanding according to the doctors. I
called it bull shit and they insisted for me to tone down my voice and use a
more appropriate vocabulary.
No matter how much I cuss at
them, they assure me that my treatment should be able to continue at home
sooner than I imagine. I’m getting so much better.
“Look at me now,” I scream
inside the sound proof room. “Of course you can’t because you professional
shrinks can go home to your families—unlike me.”
“Take it down a notch or two,
Becca,” I remind myself about my lady like manners and that of course my lungs
could pierce and my throat explode before anyone hears my screaming. The
isolation method is my choice, no one forced me. I did it because I’m stupid.
Mathematically speaking,
counting weekends—we had sessions seven days a week—they swore in forty three
days I’d be up and running. Ready to face the world. That totaled about thirty
to forty hypnotherapies and a shrink session afterward to talk about my
feelings or help me work through the episode. Forty three exposure therapies,
because reliving everything a third or fourth time during the day should heal
me faster.
Each session inside this
facility unleashes a different monster—or memory. They want me to battle forty
three of them simultaneously and come out alive. Just today I’m literally on
the floor waiting for the day to defeat the night and take away my fears. These
fears go back in time and leave me vulnerable, as if it had happen only seconds
ago.
At the end of a sessions where
my thoughts had been all over the place, the therapist takes me back to that
same day … any day. She helps talk to that little girl and convince her that
she’s safe, no one would ever put her back into a closet or call her names that
no one deserved to be called. I promise her everything will be fine.
“This is a long process, one you
decided to accelerate by coming to our center,” she repeats it as a mantra.
“However, we’ll go at your own pace.” Everyone here tends to echo the same
thing as if this is my first rodeo. “We’re here to help you find yourself and
heal those wounds that bring you so much pain.” It never gets old. “Learn to
love yourself again.”
I’m not sure about the growth,
but the wounds are wide open. Sadly Dan isn’t running inside my room, telling
me that the dream is gone and he’s here. Nor will his soothing voice will help
me fall asleep again. His arms are miles away from here and won’t wrap me and
protect me from the world.
Excerpt:
“Did you believe Becca?” I ask Connor as he reads the letter
he had sent to Becca a couple of weeks ago; the one I read yesterday. “You
think your Mom had a change of heart?”
“No, that’s why I told her to let me know.” He drops the
letter on top of the coffee table. The New York penthouse is the center of
Becca’s search and rescue and no one has left the place since yesterday. Connor
takes a deep breath. “Stop trying to find me guilty, the last thing I want is
to hurt her or see … Shit, Brightmore, I have known her since she was little. I
met her before you and cared for her up until my brother isolated her from
everyone else. I fucked up several times, but it has never been my intention to
damage her in any way.”
“Brightmore, I have a set of new pictures from the airport,”
Nick holds a stack of papers, “and Penn station. As we already know, she wasn’t
alone. The man I told you about came up with these new images. They interviewed
the cab driver in San Francisco again and he confessed there was an older man
and a petite blond woman with her. Becca looked sick and they paid him well to
keep his mouth shut.”
A picture taken at Penn Station shows Mrs. Patrick’s profile
perfectly. The time stamp on the picture coincides to with the time when the
cashier in front of her sold three one way tickets to Greensboro, North
Carolina with cash.
“That’s where my grandfather’s farm is,” Connor says as Nick
mentions the tickets. “We haven’t visited the place, since he died. Two years
after Ian died. I remember because Mom sent me to take care of his affairs and
I couldn’t because I was dealing with Ryan’s mom at that time. No one has even
set a foot there since then, Mom had grandpa’s body cremated and shipped to her
because she didn’t want to deal with another funeral.”
Without waiting for Connor to give us more gory details or
explanation about his fucked up family, I interrupt him. He gives us the name
of the farm and address he has on his phone. Nick sends the information to the
man that has been tracking Becca. He responds back saying they are already on a
plane heading to Greensboro and that they’ll be at the premises in less than an
hour. Raj contacts the best hospital that is in that city, a precaution in case
Becca is hurt. Nick arranges for the plane that will take us hopefully to her,
and then sends the information about the hospital to the people that are
rescuing her.
Ty and Connor stay behind; Nick, Raj and Drew come along and
we lose the Federal Agent, who insists on following procedures and disregards
all the information our private agencies have gathered so far. As we leave my
office, he reminds us that if any civilian dies, he’d make sure to arrest us
until proven innocent.
We arrive at the airport almost at the same time as the
captain. The airplane is ready for takeoff.
“How are you?” Raj asks, as we board the plane.
A loaded question, I simply rest my forearms over my thighs
to support my head with both hands. This is worse than having a guy pointing a
gun and a knife at me. Those had been easy to avoid, this situation is out of
my hands. The chances of finding Becca alive diminish every minute. A chill
travels through my entire body as I realize she might no longer be among us. My
head is about to explode, and I look up to where Nick sits.
“It’s been thirty minutes, Sir,” the edge on his voice
contracts my heart. He’s been in situations like this one and surely knows more
about the outcome than I do. There’s a part of me that wants to tell him to hit
me with the truth, but I choose those sprinkles of hope Becca fondly talks
about when she’s nervous or wants something that’s close to impossible to
occur. “They’ll call to the airplane phone as soon as they reach her.”
As they reach her, if they reach her for that matter. The
thoughts of them not finding her or the worst scenarios, play in my mind over
and over again, followed by the unsettling sensation of defeat. The
apprehension, fear and distress grabbed ahold of me the moment Ty mentioned he
hadn’t seen Becca. To keep a sliver of sanity I push away the ‘what if’ with
memories of us, Becca and I. Nick’s voice pulls me out from the trance the sour
hunch and memories buried me in.
“Sir, she’s unconscious but stable,” Nick says pulling me
out of the trance. “They’ll take her to the hospital Raj indicated. We should
be there in forty five minutes. The paramedics are already working on her.”
My shoulders release part of the tension as I learn she’s
alive, but before I can breathe again, I need to see her and know that she’s
going to be fine.
(Life #2)
Publication date: June 2014
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult
Publication date: June 2014
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult
Synopsis:
Him
…I need time. Time to heal those wings and learn to use them…
Was part of the letter Rebecca Trent, Daniel Brightmore’s fiancée and best friend left when she ran away. The person he trusted the most for the past decade disappeared without giving him a second glance. She taught him how to love, believe in family and that everyone deserves a happily ever after. Now he’s struggling between wiping any traces of her from his life and drowning his sorrows away with the help of his new best friends—Don Julio and Jack Daniels.
Her
Rebecca’s past suffocated her to the point of not wanting to continue, her lifeline and the only reason to live began to withdraw from her. She wished it had been her imagination, but heard it loud and clear: “If not, there’s always a divorce, nothing is forever.” This time it became a leave or die situation. Something has got to change—she had to change. Packing light and leaving a letter behind, she takes a journey that can help her find herself through the shards of her painful childhood.
As letters, memories and stories are exchanged, two once inseparable people reconcile what’s left of their relationship. Beyond the confines of everything they built together, they’re left with two lonely people searching for what it means to be whole. Will they find meaning under their bruised psyches or will their pasts get the better of them?
…I need time. Time to heal those wings and learn to use them…
Was part of the letter Rebecca Trent, Daniel Brightmore’s fiancée and best friend left when she ran away. The person he trusted the most for the past decade disappeared without giving him a second glance. She taught him how to love, believe in family and that everyone deserves a happily ever after. Now he’s struggling between wiping any traces of her from his life and drowning his sorrows away with the help of his new best friends—Don Julio and Jack Daniels.
Her
Rebecca’s past suffocated her to the point of not wanting to continue, her lifeline and the only reason to live began to withdraw from her. She wished it had been her imagination, but heard it loud and clear: “If not, there’s always a divorce, nothing is forever.” This time it became a leave or die situation. Something has got to change—she had to change. Packing light and leaving a letter behind, she takes a journey that can help her find herself through the shards of her painful childhood.
As letters, memories and stories are exchanged, two once inseparable people reconcile what’s left of their relationship. Beyond the confines of everything they built together, they’re left with two lonely people searching for what it means to be whole. Will they find meaning under their bruised psyches or will their pasts get the better of them?
Purchase:
Claudia lives in Colorado with her family and three dogs. Two beagles who believe they are human, and a bichon who thinks she’s a beagle. While managing life, she works as a CFO at a small IT Company. She’s a dreamer who enjoys music, laughter and a good story.
Author Links:
Website: http://www.
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