Reckless Mind is my first New Adult novel and it releases in 3 weeks. It can be read as a standalone, but will be the first book of the the Reckless series, and as of right now I am looking at 3 books to complete the series. The characters you meet in the first book are the characters you will see throughout the entire series, but each book will focus on a different person specifically. The first book, Reckless Mind, focuses on Kahlen Jourdan. (Check out previous post for blurb and cover!!!!)
Here you go, ENJOY!!!
Prologue
Looking through the
cold water covering my head in the deep round bath sitting in the
middle of the room, my body long since trained not to struggle, I no
longer responded. Eight small cracks covered the peeling eggshell
colored ceiling. One semi large spider hung in a corner. My lungs
ached, I fought against it. Dim moonlight came in through the parted
curtains blowing ever so slightly with the summer breeze coming in
the window. This wasn't my first, or twentieth, time in this
position. I used to think my life would end this way, or another
equally tragic scenario, at the hands of people who should love me.
I had long since
removed my heart from everything involving my life. All I experienced
and saw love be was an excuse to receive forgiveness for words
cutting across wrists like knives, for hands that leaving marks
behind dusting the skin in various shades of black, for meaningless
relationships paraded around to break a heart, and unspeakable
actions surely meant to break the mind. But as long as the words I'm
sorry were uttered all was to be
forgotten.
Today I'd leave the
bullshit behind, start my new life. Bringing my head above water I
pulled in gasped breaths through my mouth quietly, cloudy vision
began to right itself. I didn't deserve to breathe, or so I was told,
my mere existence ruined lives. How many lives I'm not sure. It
seemed only theirs, but then again I didn't let anyone close enough
to me to be certain.
They didn't know I'd
leave or where I'd go. No number or address would be left behind on
the pristine fake marble counter in their precious kitchen, I
wouldn't take a single piece of clothing or shoes they ever
begrudgingly gave me. I'd had a job for the last year and a half,
secretly saving money. They never knew because that would involve
caring about something other than what I could get them. To them I
equaled a monthly paycheck, a flaunted pawn used in obtaining
connections.
Everyone
in my life wanted something from me. Everyone. If I couldn't provide
what they deemed necessity I was punished, scars and memories mark my
body and mind making sure I never forgot what love
would do to me.
I didn't speak to
the people I was forced to live with, even if I did it would fall on
deaf ears. Friends were easy to come by in high school, but I played
a role. I gave them what they wanted to see on the outside. Hanging
out at football and basketball games, talking in school, but that's
where it ended. No one ever came to my house, no one knew the real
me. Guys tried to date me, they flirted, and I was well informed of
certain touches and actions to make a man want me. Sometimes I found
myself doing these things out of habit to the boys in school, but
nothing progressed. They'd call me a tease, I'd roll my eyes and tell
them they were stupid to think I'd ever want them in the first place.
At
night I'd cry myself to sleep because I did, I did want them. Not any
of them
specifically, but I wanted even one person to want me for me. Only I
didn't know who I was, not really, and I still didn't. That's why I
was moving across the country. I needed to find myself, figure out
who I was, and work through my shit. Old habits have to be broken,
and for fucks sake, I needed to try to be a person worthy of someone
actually giving a shit about me.
I hear old habits
are hard to break.
Three thirty in the
morning, I throw on black skinny jeans, a grey oversized shirt, and
flip flops. My bags have been packed for weeks, I pulled the two
small duffles out from under my bed. The cab would be here in five
minutes, my plane ticket tucked into my back pocket.
Silently I tip toed
down the stairs and out the front door, mentally flipping the whole
place off. Not a single tear ran down my face as I walked away from
the house that was a prison instead of a home. And so I repeated to
myself the same thing I had been since I decided to leave.
My name is Kahlen
Jourdan.
I'm eighteen.
My mind is royally
messed up.
I'm moving across
the country to start over.
I'm going to
college.
I will get my shit
together.
But...I will never
fall in love.
© Heather Wiginton January 2014
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