itsjoysworld.net

No I didn’t publish Breaking Faith in the middle of the night and not tell anyone. I read on Facebook that there are some authors out there that review and give their books a five star review. I jokingly responded that at least I know I would have one five star review to brag about.

My brain wouldn’t let me stop there. Oh, no. Not this awkward girl. I started putting together what my review would actually say. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I would not give my book a five star review.

MY ONE STAR REVIEW OF BREAKING FAITH…..

I first would like to state that this book took me forever to finish. By the time it will be published it will have consumed almost two and half years of my life.

I want to say that this book put me on an emotional roller coaster, but that really isn’t the emotional image I am trying to obtain. It was like being on a continues bungee-jump. My stomach would drop, my blood pressure would rise, my adrenaline would spike.Right when I would level out, I would have to jump again. Each jump was higher than the last, and the puffy air mattress transformed to a calm lake, to a rapid river, to a jagged mountain bottom, to something even more treacherous.

The characters were relentless in making sure they were portrayed truthfully. I constantly had to change dialogue, as they would scream at me that at no time would they ever say such a thing. Usually they demanded their rewrites in the middle of the night when I was comfortably tucked under my fuzzy Harry Potter blanket.

The edits were pure torture. Red ink will haunt me for the rest of my life. The book manipulated me more than I manipulated it. The story took a hold of me, and refused to release me until it was the exact shape it wanted it to be. Most of the curves it took were not something even I had expected.

This book also made me more neurotic than I already am. I had to stop myself from editing it down to just saying, THE END. I am in the constant battle of it could be better. Let me rewrite this fucker, one more time. Honestly, if I don’t stop the madness, the whole structure will change and Faith will become telepathic, and Kill will become a vampire.

I now think everyone is a liar. I have let friends beta read, and they are all very nice in their comments. Some have suggestions. Most of their suggestions I have used. All of them I have respected. I just don’t believe them. I keep telling people I won’t believe it until I get my first one star review. Well, shit.

This book has made me a blanket fort master. I am also well established in the art of procrastination. I am usually determined when I set out to do something, and do not stop until I have finished whatever task I have started. Not with this sucker. Nope. I have been known to ignore the whole thing for months at at time, and then go into a manic state where I am immersed in it.

I will be pressing publish some time in August 2015. Sorry my stomach just tried to hide by flipping into itself. To any readers even if you decide it does deserve a one star review I appreciate you taking the time to read something has brought me to my knees numerous times.

Also whatever book you are reading please leave a review for the author. Reviews mean the world to us. We respect everything our readers have to say. And remember even if it isn’t your type of book. By explaining what wasn’t your thing may bring a potential reader to that same book.

The first three pages of Breaking Faith were such a hit, I was asked to post more. I promised when I my author page hit 400 I would post more.

If you have’t want to like my Facebook page

https://www.facebook.com/joyeileenauthor

and if you didn’t get to read the first three pages.

https://itsjoysworld.net/2015/04/20/breaking-faith-as-promised/

Keeping busy with my school work, I avoided the pity-filled stares from my peers. I owned my pariah status with pride, never letting them know how self-conscious they made me.

My scholarship was awarded before graduation, mocking my life of teenage solitude. When I received the acceptance letter, panic sliced through me and I flat out refused to leave. After much coaxing and bribing, of the Mustang variety, I reluctantly agreed to go.

I found myself without the foundation of my dad, in a new state, trying to find my way.

My freshman year was uneventful. Throughout the year I could be found in my dorm room studying. I wanted to make sure the university knew they weren’t wasting their time and money on me.

During summer break, I got a job at the local coffee shop, Cool Beans. The extra money assisted in my one non-school related obsession, shoes.

I was paranoid to use my savings. The money started accruing as soon as my mom, the flake, produced a positive pregnancy test. Worried that if I spent it on something frivolous, the universe would enact punishment. Guilt was not an emotion I wanted to surface when purchasing a new pair of heels; that would be tragic.

During my first shift at Cool Beans, I met Jason.

He had dark brown eyes that sparkled when he laughed, and sandy blonde hair chopped close to his head, reminiscent of the newly sworn in police cadets.

I couldn’t ogle the fine specimen in front of me, being there was an irate middle-aged customer, with a raging case of short man syndrome screaming at me. By accident, I put one shot of espresso in his coffee instead of the two he had ordered.

I figured I had unknowingly done him a favor.

Gazing at the bulging veins popping out of the angry customer’s neck, I remained patient, waiting for them to explode from the extreme strain they were under.

His hair had successfully emulated a cul-de-sac, and the buttons around his enlarged middle strained to stay together.

I apologized and remade his order when Jason came to my rescue. Jason spun Mr. One-Shot-Down around as if he weighed nothing.

The guy spewed an anger-filled rant until he saw the size of Jason and restrained the rest of his words. His cowardliness caused me to stare at the floor to hide a smirk.

“Apologize to her,” Jason commanded through clenched teeth.

The man turned bright red, refusing to do as Jason demanded.

Using the most convincing smile I could muster, I sputtered, “No, no it’s ok. I messed up his order.”

“No,” Jason declared, giving me a stern look, before turning his gaze back to the man he still had by the shoulders. “A missing shot is no reason to yell at a beautiful girl. Hell, she did your poor heart a favor.”

The firm look he gave his prisoner made him turn an even brighter shade of red. Jason’s hostage then noticed he held the attention of everyone in the coffee shop and struggled to get away. Jason just gripped him tighter.

I blushed after hearing this perfect specimen call me, of all people, beautiful. The captured customer muttered his apology, and only then did Jason release him.

As soon as the apology left his mouth, my first angry customer turned around and fled, not bothering to take the cup containing his now correct order.

“Thank you,” I said to my hero, trying to stand up straight and exude fake confidence.

He smiled and I swear I heard angels sing, or orgasm, whatever fit.

“You are welcome, but I don’t think your ‘thank you’ will be enough for what I just did.”

“Of course, your drink is on the house.”

I moved to make his drink, the one he hadn’t ordered yet. This made him throw back his head and laugh. The muscles in his neck bulged from his amusement, resembling the man he just released.

I gave him a puzzled look, confused by his laughter. He then asked me a question that threw my whole axis off balance. “What time do you get off?” He looked at my name tag and added, “Faith.”

“Uhmm, in four hours,” I replied, looking at the clock behind the espresso machine, still puzzled at what type of apology he thought he was entitled to receive.

He nodded and walked away. Right before he stepped out of the shop, he glanced at me with a wicked grin. “I will pick you up in four hours. My name is Jason, by the way.” He then winked and vanished.

My boss, Ginger, who had been watching with the rest of the customers, patted my shoulder, reaching around to close my open mouth with her index finger.

“Did that just happen?” I whispered, ignoring everyone else, still looking at the empty doorway.

“Yep,” Ginger responded, laughing and telling me to take a break.

In the bathroom I splashed cold water on my face, obsessing over every detail of our encounter.

Why me? I studied my face, yearning to find something, anything to validate Jason’s interest. I shook my head, assured the answer would continue to elude me.

My dark brown hair was pulled up in a ponytail giving me an unobstructed view of my face. Thanks to Portland’s fantastic weather, my skin had a pale hue to it, making my green eyes stand out large and uncertain. The smattering of freckles on my nose prominent under the fluorescent lighting.

I shook my head in disgust. Hell, if my own mother couldn’t stand to be near me, there was no reason for someone like Jason to spend any time with me.

I left the bathroom frustrated. As the minutes ticked away, I found myself getting more and more anxious. When my shift ended, I glanced around the coffee shop to check if he was there. I knew he wasn’t because I had scanned the room every time someone entered.

Of course he wouldn’t show up, someone that gorgeous had no reason to go on a date with me, I scolded myself, reiterating the dark thoughts I had in the bathroom. He probably was trying to get me to stop staring at him like some slack-jawed lackey.

I left the coffee shop feeling dejected and stupid for believing he meant what he said. As I headed to my car, I heard his deep voice behind me.

“Hey, you aren’t ditching me, are you?”

Stunned, I turned around to my knight in coffee justice leaning on the wall of the back entrance of the shop, his muscles doing that delicious bulgy thing.

I made a promise with my all too supportive friends, that when my tiny brand new author page hit 300 likes I would post the first three pages of Breaking Faith. I guess this also proves I have actually created a book, and I am not just blowing smoke up people’s butts. So without further procrastination…

Breaking Faith

Chapter 1

“Oww, shit!” I cried, as I pulled my oozing finger back and stuck it in my mouth.

Glaring at the offending messenger bag, or more specifically the felonious paper sticking out of it, I fought back the tears and expelled a bitter laugh.

My eyes stayed glued to the awful document that signified escape. How dare it hurt me! It was a paper replica of the person it was protecting me from, a façade of security but in reality nothing but pain.

I glanced back at my injured finger to see if anymore blood came trickling out. A thin red line appeared, nothing more. No rivulets of crimson, no summoning of vampires for an all-you-can-suck buffet, just a small droplet of blood, nothing major. I grabbed a tissue to wipe it away, crisis averted. Life continued.

I snuggled further into my hoodie as the interior of my lime-green 67′ Mustang cooled in the night air. My body begged me to turn on the heater. I refused, afraid of getting too comfortable.

I was parked in front of a typical dive bar. The wood exterior was stained with matter that would horrify even the most seasoned forensic team.

A large neon sign on the top of the bar announced its name, Ray’s. It ignited the parking lot, bathing the closest cars in red. A marquee in the front boasted that Ray’s was the home of the JackholeS, a popular Portland band.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to fill myself with fake confidence, hoping this time to succeed, I didn’t.

I gave myself permission to dwell on Jason for five minutes. After that I would file him away in the dark recesses of my mind, just like the paperwork for the restraining order buried in the county clerk’s office.

Leaning back in the driver’s seat, I welcomed the images of my past as they flashed through my mind. I watched my own personal horror movie stuck on fast forward. Significant moments slowed, giving insight on how I ended up sitting in my car, outside a bar, broken and bruised.

*

When I received a scholarship out of state, excitement and heartbreak coursed through me. Oregon State University offered me an escape, the payment they required, I had to leave my dad.

My dad is a retired police chief, and my biggest supporter. My mom was the complete opposite, and couldn’t handle motherhood. Her mind was stuck in a high school mentality. On my fourth birthday she left, taking the amber-tinted bottles lining her bathroom sink with her.

After cleaning up my ruined party, my dad held me in a soul-crushing embrace, and told me it was us against the world. The older I became the more responsibilities I shouldered, taking his statement to heart.

I could never be the typical teenager my mommy-issues ran too deep. Parties and other rites of passage which shepherd a teen into adulthood, were not high on my list of priorities.

I wanted to post this on Friday, but I have been non-stop since coming back from Vegas. So many things happened in Vegas that I decided to break the trip in half.

Thursday I had to wait until JM got off work before we could leave. Trips stress me the fuck out. I am not the biggest fan of change especially to my routine. So after many mind anxiety filled moments we were on the road. We had to drop some thing off with my parents before we could actually hit the road. This meant a detour to Bakersfield the half-way point.

My parents were stuck in traffic so we decided to wait at a park. I went ghetto and touched up my toe-nails while sitting on the grass (I know, but it is Bakersfield so I didn’t feel too bad.) I was then dared to get on the monkey bars. I tried to get out of it. I explained I was too old to be playing on the damn monkey bars, but in the end my dumb ass relented. I am proud to say I got to three before I fell on my ass (the third bar was slippery) because I didn’t want to ruin my newly painted nails I maneuvered myself so I landed on my hip and wrist feet up in the air.

A little girl about three or so ran up to me pointed at me and summoning her best Nelson from the Simpsons laughed. Yes I deserved it, and it made me laugh. There were probably only about thirty people in the park, but in my imagination there had to be about fifty. JM did an impressive job stifling his laugh. Yeah, who the hell am I kidding.

After leaving my parents (No I did not tell them about my small stint as a gymnast.) We were officially on the road. Well, after I popped JM’s Sonic cherry that is. I haven’t had Sonic since coming back from Texas. I missed it.

On the four hour drive JM was very sweet in not mentioning my monkey bar fail. He only burst out laughing every thirty minutes or so. Usually that was followed by a “Hey, remember when you tried to do the monkey bars?” or “You fell” I know what a nice guy.

We finally made it to Vegas. Yay!!!

We stayed on Fremont Street because I found a killer deal. So really for the rest of the night we walked around downtown people watching.

That night while getting ready for bed I realized that I had forgot to pack a bra. I am so used to wearing sports bras that I completely forgot that I needed to wear big girl bras in public.

So the next morning JM and I went on a bra adventure before I was able to do anything. We found a mall on the outskirts of town. Being in Vegas I didn’t think that finding a DDD bra would be a big deal. Stupid me for thinking.

I went through Sears, JC Penny’s and I couldn’t tell you how many more only to see DD tags galore. JM found a Victoria Secret. I explained that there is no way they would have a DDD. He marched right in asked the lady and of course she pulls me over and hands me two different bras. Finding a proper cage for the girls I removed the tag and made JM pay for it so I could walk out with in a real big girl bra. (So do any of you get my post title yet?)

After bolting the girls on we made our way to Planet Hollywood where The Novel Experience was being held. Friday was the VIP event which I didn’t pay for so I really wasn’t allowed to go in yet. I went and wished Rebecca luck before getting kicked out. The authors wanted to go on a pub crawl after the VIP experience so JM and I walked around while they did their thing.

At nine I shouted out on FB asking where the pub crawl was starting. I swear it went radio silent right after I posted. It was like high school all over again. (Kidding) After a while I figured that they were having too much fun, and told JM I wanted to go back to downtown. He calmed me down and told me to wait. They finally answered me, and coincidentally we were right in front of the bar they were at. I chickened out. I didn’t want to go. JM had to practically push me into the bar.

As soon as I walked in everyone was so nice to me. Julie Morgan handed me a sticker tattoo spider thingy that I stuck on my cheek (this comes into play later) We were all having a good time when four guys from the UK crashed our party. They must have just turned 21 because they were bouncing around like baby goats. We ended up dubbing them the puppies.

Some of the authors let the puppies sign their boobs. Thankfully mine were covered. I got away with out being signed until I stupidly showed my friend Dayna my batman tattoo. The puppies saw it, and pounced. While they were signing one of them kept rubbing his thumb on my side. I screamed and asked him if he was licking me. He explained it was just his thumb. I told him to stop licking me with his thumb. This is how I ended up with two squirting penises on my back.

Even with accents they still couldn’t be mistaken for mature.

We left the puppies shortly after and ended up at the Rock Bar. This is also where I lost my license. Damn bull.

When the adorable little waitress asked me what I wanted to drink I drew a complete blank. What are the odds they would have diet Pepsi and Red Licorice Vodka? I asked her. They didn’t. I told her that I would leave it up to her, and to make it pretty.

She saw the tattoo on my cheek and tried to wipe it off. She then realized it was a fake tattoo, and started to laugh. I told her I knew  that I had swallowed everything. I made a fan.

When she came back she handed me two pink drinks. (did I mention it was buy one get one free?) I asked her what it was, and she told me it was sex on the beach. I asked her, “If you have sex on the beach and get sand in your vagina would you make pearls?” Some how I ended up with a free bull ride.

We danced. Well….they danced I bobbed. I can’t dance. Alicia the Bookwhore can however dance. I am still in awe at her moves.

This is Alicia with two men who were trying to see how far they could stretch what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

After dancing we made our way to the bull.

There was a man on the bull that kept unbuttoning his shirt. He saw a group of women and decided to throw on the charm. He asked if we thought he could stay on the bull for twenty seconds. I yelled up at him telling him if he unbuttoned his shirt another button he probably could.

After he was knocked off rather quickly I might add he came over to us telling us it is harder than it looked. I told him that we were women and used to taking a pounding. He left quickly after that.

I am a big talked. I thought I had gotten away with it too. When most of the girls had their turn on the bull I tried to get them outside to see the Bellagio fountains. They weren’t having none of that. Alicia came to my rescue and we ended up riding double on that damn bull.

This is where I lost my license. It is either residing near the bull’s ass or Alicia’s vagina.

After getting bucked off. (the bra held them firmly in place.) We went to watch the fountains. I decided they looked like synchronized ejaculations.

I took flat Ella Emerson with me. There are more pictures on other peoples camera somewhere.