Title: Shattered Pieces
Series: Shattered #1
Author: Rebekah Vasick
Genre: M/M Romance
Publishing date: May 11th, 2020
Hi, I’m Taylor and I’m a drug addict. Oh, wait. This isn’t NA, is it? Then I’m just Taylor, a Brit living in America.
Secrets. My family has many. My dad’s an abusive alcoholic. My mom finds her solace in her boss’s bed. But me? My secret’s the worst of all: I’m gay.
I was raised to believe that it’s wrong to feel this way about men.
But then I met Alex, the sexy bartender with the Southern twang. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t fight my attraction to him.
How can something so wrong feel so right? And how can I keep fighting it when he keeps lending me his strength so I can live to fight another day?
The plan was simple.
Move to Cresthill, New York.
Open my bar.
Recover from the relationship I wish I could forget.
And then he walked in. Hot British Dude. Even covered in bruises, he took my breath away.
The more I get to know Taylor, the sweet Brit who has as many demons as I do, the more I feel the need to keep him safe from everything that’s hurting him.
Maybe I’ll never be whole again. Maybe Taylor won’t either. But maybe, just maybe, together, we can be the glue that puts all our shattered pieces together again.
Trigger Warning: This book deals with the subjects of substance abuse, domestic violence, child abuse, and suicide.
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Enjoy a fragment
“How was your night?” Mum asks.
I make a little sandwich on the end of my fork, a little bit of everything on a square of fried bread. The combined flavors explode in my mouth, and I groan internally. This is exactly what I need to fight off a drug-induced hangover. Chewing slowly, I wade through the foggy memories of last night. A gaming session with Elle, sneaking out of the house, lots of coke and…him.
A night of drink and drugs leaves me with fragments of memories. Like, I went to the new bar, but I couldn’t tell you what it looked like. They had a band, but the only song I remember them playing was “Rocket Man.”
But him? The bartender? That memory is crystal clear. His diamond-shaped face, the dark stubble that I wanted to graze my lips over. Chocolate-colored eyes filled with warmth that fixed on me, staring into my soul. Even his touch that sent bolts of electricity through me, jolting me back to life. He made me feel things; things I keep locked away, deep within me, never wanting them to see the light of day.
In that moment, I needed a bump to numb the awakening desires, but it didn’t help. I still couldn’t pry my eyes off him. Though we didn’t talk exactly, I could hear his southern accent, my weakness. Why did he have to be a southerner?
The connection we had was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. The words played on my tongue, the insane need to ask if he was interested in me.
But I’m not gay! I snogged the first slapper who came my way. But even as I kissed her, I watched him, wondering if his full lips would feel as soft as they looked.
Iron bands tighten around my chest, crushing all the air from my lungs. A frozen hand grasps my heart, squeezing it, while a legion of demons crowds me, taunting me.
You’re sick, Taylor. You’re not right in the head. You’re unclean, despicable, an abomination, for thinking of a man in this way.
Avoiding Mum’s stare, I collect my mug and wash down my mouthful with the milky coffee. “It was all right.”
“What did you do?”
Fantasized about kissing a bloke. “Nothing, really. Just stayed out of Dad’s way.”
She sighs and reaches out a cold hand—her hands are always cold—to clutch my fingers. “I’m sorry I left you last night.”
She looks older today. A new wrinkle cracks the skin between her thin, blonde eyebrows. Another crease slices across her forehead, while dark circles pool under her eyes.
She searches my gaze, maybe begging me to forgive her?
“Just couldn’t take it anymore.” Her voice breaks as a tear slithers down her cheek. “But I knew you could handle your own. You always have, ever since you were a little boy.”
“Why do you stay with him?” I don’t recognize my own voice.
She pulls her hand away and I mourn the softness of her skin. Wiping the tear from her cheek, she gazes at Penny, who is blissfully unaware of the deep, emotional moment unfolding before her.
“It’s complicated,” Mum says.
“Mum, I know you’re scared of him, but we can get out. You, me, and Penny.”
The blue of her irises darkens.
“And where would we go, Taylor?” she snaps. I recoil. “Where would I hide?” she continues. “He threatens to kill me if I ever leave him. But you can leave, though, Taylor. If you want to leave me and your sister here, alone, to deal with him.”
The cold hand of guilt slaps my face. How could she think I would leave her or Penny?
“I’m sorry, Mum,” I whisper. “I shouldn’t have said anything. And you know I’ll always stay here to protect you and Pen.”
She blows out a heavy breath, her face softening, and curls her fingers around my hand once again.
“No, I’m sorry, love. You’re too good to me.” She offers a smile. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re so brave, so strong, to stand up to him. Not like me, all weak and fragile.”
Once again, she pulls back and collects her fork.
“Do you have plans tonight?” Her voice is suddenly upbeat.
I don’t question the oddity. “No, I can stay in.” My subtle way of saying I’ll shield her and Penny from the brute.
“Game’s on tonight,” Dad announces, startling me, but at least I know why she changed her tone.
Glancing over my shoulder, I watch him stagger in through the doorway. Clearly, he’s had his liquid breakfast. His hazy eyes search for me, not quite registering where I’m sitting.
“You going to be here to watch it?” he continues.
Just like Mum, I learned early on in life to fake everything around him.
Meet Rebekah VasickRebekah Vasick originated from Essex, England and after a few years of travelling around England and spending five years in Holland, she eventually met her husband, Mike, and moved to New York to be with him. She used to work as a caregiver to adults with autism, but due to an eye condition, she’s unable to work anymore. She’s always had a love for writing, but it wasn’t until she settled in America that she felt she could live her dream.
Along with her husband, she lives with her two dogs, Patrick (Jack Russell) and Jake (Weimaraner). Patrick also moved from England since she couldn’t live without her pup.
When she’s not writing, Rebekah either has her face in a book or a PS4 controller in her hands. She also enjoys walking with her boys and husband or dreaming up her next novels. She enjoys watching movies, her favourite genre being horror. And she surprised herself when she found her love for writing romance. Though Twisted City isn’t her first novel, it is the first she’s ready to share with others and she is eager to finish the trilogy and work on the many other half-finished works squirrelled away in her laptop or the many she has developing in her mind.
If you’d like to find out more about Rebekah and what she’s up to, you can find her online in the following places: Facebook Fan Page | Instagram | Blog | Newsletter