Sound is
an abstract concept for most people. We spend our lives blocking out the static
in order to focus on what we believe is important. But what if, when the
clarity fades into silence, it's the obscure background noise that you would
give anything to hold on to?
I've always been a fighter. With parents
who barely managed to stay out of jail and two little brothers who narrowly
avoided foster care, I became skilled at dodging the punches life threw at me.
Growing up, I didn’t have anything I could call my own, but from the moment I
met Eliza Reynolds, she was always
mine. I became utterly addicted to her
and the escape from reality we provided each other. Throughout the years, she
had boyfriends and I had girlfriends, but there wasn't a single night that I
didn’t hear her voice.
You see, meeting the love of my life at
age thirteen was never part of my plan. However, neither was gradually going
deaf at the age of twenty-one.
They both happened anyway.
Now, I'm on the ropes during the toughest
battles of my life.
Fighting for my career.
Fighting the impending silence.
Fighting
for her.
Every
night, just before falling asleep, she sighs as a final conscious breath leaves
her.
I think
that's the sound I'll miss the most.
Add Fighting Silence to your TBR list on Goodreads!
RELEASE DATE: February 2015
FIGHTING
SILENCE Cover Reveal Excerpt
"That wasn't yours to take
away," he exploded into the otherwise silent night. His words echoed off
the surrounding buildings, each wave slicing me to the quick all over again.
"That was our place. Not
yours." His voice cracked right alongside my heart.
"Yeah, well, there was a lot of
stuff that wasn't yours to take either." I held his gaze, desperately
trying to be strong, but as his eyes grew wide, I whimpered.
His long legs strode forward, stopping
only inches away from me. He was crowding me, but he still leaned in closer to
my face. "There is nothing in this world that was ever more mine than
you," he stated. Though it was the absolute truth, I wished with all my
heart that it were a lie.
"Till," I cried, swiping the
tears from my eyes.
"Why!" he shouted, causing his
muscles to tense under the force. "Goddamn it! I needed that place."
Porch lights flashed on from the
surrounding apartments, illuminating not only the dark but also my rage.
I shoved my hands into his chest.
"What about what I needed? You left! I waited in that fucking apartment
for weeks."
He didn't budge, but my bare feet
slipped, sending me toward the ground. Impossibly fast, Till's hand snaked out
and caught my arm. I didn't let his chivalrous gesture douse my fire. I had six
months’ worth of words to say to the man I was irrevocably in love with.
"You took what you wanted. Then you
left me."
"Doodle," he whispered.
I had been perilously close to the edge
of insanity, and with one single word, he’d pushed me over.
I lost it completely.
Pounding my fists against his chest, I
screamed at the top of my lungs, "It's Eliza! My name is fucking Eliza!
Not Doodle!" I spun to march away, but Till's arms folded around me,
lifting me off my feet to restrain me.
I was miniscule compared to him. There
was no use in fighting, but I still kicked my legs, irrationally desperate to
get away from him—but only because I knew I couldn't keep him for forever.
"Stop it!" he growled into my
ear. "I know your Goddamn name—probably better than I know my own."
Born and raised in Savannah, Georgia, Aly Martinez is a
stay-at-home mom to four crazy kids under the age of five, including a set of
twins. Currently living in South Carolina, she passes what little free time she
has reading anything and everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a
glass of wine at her side.
After some encouragement from her friends, Aly decided to
add “Author” to her ever-growing list of job titles. Five books later, she
shows no signs of slowing. So grab a glass of Chardonnay, or a bottle if you’re
hanging out with Aly, and join her aboard the crazy train she calls life.
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