Epiphany (27 page)

I knew I had to go and talk to her.

It may have been rocky, and we might have spent four years without each other, but
everything worked out the way it was supposed to. If over the last decade I’ve learned
one thing, it’s this: accidents don’t happen—everything happens when destiny decides
to throw it at you. You have to be the one to decide if you’re going to swing for
a homerun or a go for bunt. Me … I most certainly hit a grand slam.

One dream can change your entire life.

THE END

“I was destined to love you, and I will belong to you forever” – Colleen Houck

Wow … It’s over. Mira, Skylar, Danny and Kylee have finally stopped talking to me.
This series has been a blast to write and I’m so happy you have taken the time to
listen to the things I had to say. With the end of The Destined Series and Epiphany
I’m a little sad. It’s like my baby’s all grown up and is going off to college.
It’s a bittersweet finish to something I started a little less than a year ago. As
happy as I am to move onto another story, more characters and new mind f*cks, it’s
sad to see these guys go.

I’d like to quickly thank just a few more people who helped inspire me throughout
this process:

Jesse and Lyndsey – for letting me, hopefully, help you heal.
The Hooliganz – thanks for the loan guys! I hope I did you proud
Rest In Paradise – my muses for this series of novels – Danny “Danny Boy” Tomes, Skylar,
Teresa “TT” Clark, and Doug “D-Fresh” Harper.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

To My Fantastic Readers – With the Destined Series coming to a close, I want to thank
you all from the bottom of my heart. You’ve made my wildest dreams come true. Each
time you picked up my book, posted a review, sent me a message/email, or shared my
books with a friend you were encouraging me to keep going … keep giving you more.
I hope that I’ve done this story justice and you’re all happy with the way things
have ended for Skylar, Mira, Danny and Kylee. These four are so close to my heart
and will always be my first “children”. Thank you for loving and cherishing them
the way that I do. Thank you for opening your eyes and your hearts for four fictional
characters, that without your love and support, would only have voices in my head.

To My Husband – It’s been a wicked, crazy ride love. I did it. Not only did I publish
one book, I did an entire series. None of this would be possible without your help,
love and guidance. Thank you for being the voice behind my Skylar. He’s not just
a fictional character to me. He’s the man I fell in love with when I was sixteen
years old. He’s the man that gave me my amazing children. He’s the man that almost
thirteen years ago I was worried wasn’t hot enough for me. Thank you for arresting
me and holding me hostage.
Until the wheels fall off, babe.
Until those motherfuckers fall the hell off. This is was a team effort and I can’t
wait to see the crazy ass shit we concoct for the next books.

Stephanie – The light of my life, the peanut butter to my jelly, the diet to my mountain
dew. Each and every day you amaze me. You’re the best critique partner a girl could
ever hope for. You push me when I need
it,
you lay off when I don’t. Your words of inspiration keep me moving forward. God
truly blessed me when he placed the ARC of Emerge in my blog email all those months
ago. He knew that a beautiful friendship would bloom from one simple book. If I
can’t have you, I don’t want nobody baby!

Madeline – The other half of my brain.
My person.
The Mary to my Rhoda.
Such an impeccable team that we’ve made. With each conversation, each picture and
each hilarious post, I know that we were created to meet. I mean, how many people
who have never met can finish each others sentences. Don’t answer that, it’s probably
a lot. Thank you for letting me into your crazy, chaotic world and for coming into
mine.
Where ever this road takes us, as long as we have a Louie and each other, I’m sure
… well almost sure anyway … that we’ll be just fine. This book was dedicated to my
children … I couldn’t help it … but there’s a secondary dedication … To My Dallas
… for making my world go round. Crazy bitches till we die.

Tiffany – My fantastic and beyond extraordinary editor.
I really hope this last book makes you want to still work with me going forward.
I’m a hot ass mess most of the time, but I think you love me anyway. There’s just
a special bond between us that not too many people will understand. Thank you for
EVERYTHING.

Pammy – my heart and soul. Thank you for taking me under your wing, guiding me and
helping me with so much along the way. It’s an honor to have a friend with such integrity
and love. You put yourself into everything you have.
All the late night talks, the crazy PM’s and the articles of that damn missing plane.
You are the best friend, colleague and employer a girl could ever dream of.

Nicole – thanks for reading shit and telling me the meaning of literally. I don’t
know what I would do without you! Now maybe next time, we can get some quality time
together!!!

My Angels – You guys are truly ride or die. You throw yourselves into
pimping
a book for no reason other than you adore the characters and story line. For all
the pep talks, the teaser making and the pimping … THANK YOU. If there’s a map with
names on it, I’m sure you’ve put me there.

My Beta Readers – there just aren’t words. Most of you have been with me since Mirage
and have watched this series of stories evolve into something that I’ve extremely
proud of. You catch me when I fail, pick me up when I’ve fallen and push me forward
when I’ve slowed down. I really do hope that this story is everything you wanted
and needed it to be to have closure.

Toski/Sommer – my dynamic duo of cover and graphic design.
The saying goes, “A picture says a thousand words.” My books do that. From the
models, to the hair down to the setting … it’s all there and exactly how I see it
in my head. Then to take those photographs and turn them into the best damn covers
I’ve ever seen. I don’t care. I’m biased. Sue me. You women are extraordinary
and I’m so very blessed to have this team working on my books. Some people read the
synopsis, some read the sample and others look at the covers. So, for all of those
readers who are crazy in their own way, thank you for giving me the beauty to go with
the words.

Carrie/Erin – I know you guys had other plans. A surfboard may have been purchased
and I’ve been harassed with hashtags for months. I hope you see where I went with
this and even though nobody is dead, I got him outta the way for you. Here’s to surfboards,
91000 degrees,
Miley
twerking and nightmare breath. I adore you girls.

Ashley Suzanne is a married mother of three little boys as well as a daughter, aunt,
sister, best friend, birth mother, blogger, book whore and author. Ashley is a native
to the suburbs of Detroit, with most of her family living in Kentucky and New York.

You can usually find Ashley sitting in bed, with her laptop, playing on Facebook,
pretending to write, entering giveaways (she’s also a swag whore) or on a football
field with her oldest son, Tyler. Yep, not only is she a football fan, she’s a football
mom!

When she’s reading, it’s typically something to do with romance, contemporary being
her favorite genre. She’s a total fan-girl over a few authors; Pamela Ann, SE Hall,
Madeline Sheehan, Jasinda Wilder, Maya Banks, CM Stunich, Nicole Jacquelyn and Riley
Rhea to name a few.

Ashley has no pets, unless you count her children and she is a little OCD. Her favorite
color is pink. Her favorite drink is cherry vodka and coke and double chocolate brownies
are a must.

Other Works by Ashley Suzanne (all available on Amazon, BN, iTunes, Kobo and Smashwords)

Mirage (Book One: The Destined Series)
Inception (Book One 1/2: The Destined Series)
Awakening (Book Two: The Destined Series)
Façade (Book Three: The Destined Series)
Epiphany (Book Four: The Destined Series) – Coming Summer 2014

Ashley’s Facebook
Ashley’s Website
Sign up for Ashley’s Mailing List

Now Available:

ENTICE BY SE HALL

Where do dreams come from? No one knows, and that’s what makes them cool; some are
random as fuck, some stem from recent events, but never knowing what you’ll dream
each night, how weird or erotic they’ll get, gives you that time with your mind to
look forward to.

When your dream’s the same every night, it becomes a god damn nightmare.

I
know
, every single night, what I’m going to see from the time I close my eyes to the moment
I drag my sorry ass out of bed in the morning. Without a doubt, I’m going to toss
and turn in frustration, a rerun marathon of
that
night this past summer taunting me.

This bachelor party, for Parker, who I’ve known maybe eight weeks. God, I’m jealous
as hell of him. That Hayden of his fucking adores him, and she’s even hotter knocked
up than she was before. And she dotes on his ass in a very independent, non-bloodsucking
leech kinda way. Why can’t I find a girl like that?

Obviously I’ve had too much tequila since I’m hosting my own little titbag party over
here, feeling sorry for myself. Fuck this. I hold up two bills in my hand, I think
they’re twenties, and Silver Cowboy Boots comes over, way too eagerly.

Challenge me, dammit! Engage more than my dick!

“What’s this get me?” I slur, shoving the bills at her.

She kicks one ankle, then the other, getting my legs just as far apart as she wants
them and climbs over them, onto my lap. “This,” she croons and starts to grind. Her
attempt to pet my chest all sexy-like is an epic fail, snagging one way too long silver
nail on my nipple ring. She better not rip my fucking shirt—I love this shirt.

“How much to go in the back?” Two months on a farm is damn lonely.

She cuts quick, nervous glances around, then leans into my ear. “Not my usual club,
so not in here,” she whispers. “But for a hundred, I’ll meet you outside, after.”

Just when I’m about to finalize the exact details, “Shook Me All Night Long,” my favorite
song ever, starts blaring. Now this dance I gotta see, moving Dracula Nails off my
lap and outta my view to the stage, aka the flat area in this place.

Spank me and put me to bed…who the fuck is that?

“Zach?!”

Nothing.

“Zach?!” I yell louder.

“What?”

“Who. Is. That?” I point to the, um, we’ll go with “dancer” for now.

“Cause I know her? I think they said Karma or something, but I doubt you’d find her
in the phone book under that. Why?”

Look at him, trying to be all smartass… Well, he fucked it up, who the hell uses a
phone book?

“No reason.” I bounce my shoulders in what I hope looks like casual nonchalance, never
taking my eyes off her. That may blow my cover, but damn if I could look away even
if I tried.

I’m thinking it’s the beer, strike that, tequila goggles; has to be. I was just dogging
every chick who came near me, ready to pay for a meaningless quickie, a scratch to
an itch, and sheer perfection happens to strut in to my favorite song?

Yeah, and when I’m done here, I’m gonna ride home to the Playboy mansion on the flying
fucking dragon that I bought with my lottery winnings.

This isn’t real; up close she’s probably a big mess with bad breath and a whiny voice…and
herpes. Gotta be.

But here’s what I do know, no guessing, no wishful thinking, no maybe to it—take it
to the bank: her hair is so dark and shiny that you can damn near see reflections
in it and it has purple streaks in it—hot as hell. AND, wait for it… IT. IS. IN. BRAIDS.

Usually two braids or ponytails are known as “handlebars” in my language, but on this
girl, they’re cute; cute, wet dream-inducing braids.

Her eyes are as dark as her hair, and hold the fear and anxiety of a kitten stuck
in a drainpipe when it’s raining. I may never know where it came from, this instinct
that up until this point I would have sworn on a stack of Bibles I didn’t possess,
but I swear I hear her mind screaming to mine, “You’re big and strong, protect me,
Sawyer, take care of me, hold me and make me unafraid!”

That body of hers is tiny. Not frail, just petite, and tan and muscular…and her own.
She turns it to the side and away from the onlookers and keeps her hands over her
barely-covered breasts like the tease is part of the dance, but it’s not. I’d bet
you a nut this girl has never danced or stripped before in her life. And if she has,
she should stop immediately, because she absolutely sucks at it.

Those come fuck me heels she’s wearing? They’re two sizes too big and she’s never
walked in them before. Also something she should stop doing immediately. If the teetering
and wobbling didn’t draw attention to her shapely legs, it’d just be sad, but the
legs are worth the painful show. Oh and fuck me, she’s skipping around in a circle.
I hope she doesn’t think that’s a good cover for her lack of dance skills…skipping,
for crying out loud.

And lastly, she loves this song. She’s mouthing the words, keeping her eyes unfocused
and on the back wall, dying for everything but the song itself to be over. And when
it is, she runs like she’s on fire for cover behind the curtain.

“Who was that?” I ask Dracula Nails, still standing beside me.

“New girl,” she answers snidely. “First night, can’t you tell?” she laughs.

“Yeah, I can.”

“So, I’ll see you later?” she curls those inflated lips at me.

“Maybe. If I see ya I see ya.” I get up, walking over to Dane. “Where’d you get these
girls?”

“Hell if I know; Brock hooked it up.”