Fine arts major, Candace Parker, grew up with a mother who thinks image is everything, and her daughter’s perfection will never be good enough. About to graduate college and pursue her dreams of becoming a professional ballerina, Candace decides it’s time to let go and have a little fun. But fun is short-lived when a brutal attack leaves her completely shattered.
The memories that consume and torment Candace are starting to destroy her when she meets Ryan Campbell, a successful bar owner. He feels instantly connected and tries to show her that hope is worth fighting for. But is Ryan harboring his own demons? As walls slowly begin to chip away, the secrets that are held within start to become painful burdens.
At what point do secrets become lies?
(17+) This book contains mature subject matter that is not suitable for those under the age of 17.
Excerpt- Dance Studio
“Again!”
The music repeats, and I go through the steps over and again. “Pick it up, Candace! Hit! Hit!” She claps the counts loudly and continues, “I’m not feeling it! Come ON! Feel it! Watch that port a bras. Demi second, make it strong!” I focus on her commands, trying to keep my emotions tight, although I feel like I’m at my end. She’s relentless. “Again. Last one,” she says, and she starts the music over.
“This time . . . feel it, Candace. Really feel it. Let it out.”
I nod my head and silently take my position again as the music pounds through the room. Working my way through the steps, my toes are aching, but I push through again. I can hear the frustration in Ms. Emerson when she yells over the music. “Feel it, Candace! You’re dead behind the movements . . . Make that spotting stronger!” CLAP CLAP CLAP “Hit those fouettès . . . Smooth out that demi right there. I’m getting nothing! Feel, Candace!”
I nod my head and silently take my position again as the music pounds through the room. Working my way through the steps, my toes are aching, but I push through again. I can hear the frustration in Ms. Emerson when she yells over the music. “Feel it, Candace! You’re dead behind the movements . . . Make that spotting stronger!” CLAP CLAP CLAP “Hit those fouettès . . . Smooth out that demi right there. I’m getting nothing! Feel, Candace!”
She shuts off the music, and I stop, standing in the center of the floor when she walks toward me.
Speaking softly, she says, “Whatever walls you have built this year, you need to break them down. I’m getting nothing from you. You feel nothing.”
“Yes,” I say breathlessly as I nod my head.
“We spoke about this earlier, but I’m not seeing any changes. This is a powerful piece of music. In my opinion, the best piece of all the girls, but you’re wasting it. Whatever this is . . . fix it.”
“Okay.” And before I can say anything else, she turns to leave.
When the door closes behind her, I let out my pent up frustration and scream through my clenched teeth. Ripping off my pointes, I throw them hard across the room. I lie back on the floor, taking a few deep breaths and feel the tears welling up. My emotions are on edge after being so harshly berated for the past two hours.
Dream Cast
Friends
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2 comments:
I'm a part of the blog tour too (hosting tomorrow!) and just wanted to mention that I love the dream cast! :)
I love the Dreamcast too, but I can't help but think that I'd love to be close friends with Jase too(since he's CHRIS HEMSWORTH!!!)
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