Then
Gia had let Beppe into her life so easily, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. She’d held him when he’d hurt so badly he’d thought he might die; she’d talked him down when he’d been so angry he’d considered doing something he’d regret for the rest of his life.
Gia had saved his life.
At least once he needed to be strong for her.
This right now, this moment, was theirs. It belonged to them, not to abusive or dead fathers, not to guilt, regret or sorrow, not to the past or the future.
But will their love survive when tragedy separates them?
“I have to go, Gia. I’m tired and I feel empty. I know you need me, but I have nothing left to give you. I need to heal.”
“I miss you so much it’s hard to breathe.”
Now
Beppe was still Gia’s closest friend. But they’d never be anything more than that again. Remembering what it felt like to have the person you love most in the world torn away from you still hurt. Gia was determined never to be put into that position again.
There was never lack of love, but can Beppe win Gia’s trust again?
Forever
“When I was broken you gave me pieces of yourself and made me whole again.”
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Author bio
Hi, my name is Teodora and I live in London with my husband Ted and my son Jason. I've been writing ever since I can remember, but it became my full time job in 2010 when I decided that everything else I've tried bores me to death and I have to do what I've always wanted to do, but never had to guts to fully embrace. I've been a journalist, an editor, a personal assistant and an interior designer among another things, but as soon as the novelty of the new, exciting job wears off, I always go back to writing. Being twitchy, impatient, loud and hasty are not qualities that help a writer, because I have to sit alone, preferably still, and write for most of the day, but I absolutely love it. It's the only time that I'm truly at peace and the only thing I can do for more than ten minutes at a time - my son has a bigger attention span than me.
When I'm procrastinating, I like to go to the gym, cook Italian meals (and eat them), read, listen to rock music, watch indie movies and True Blood re-runs. Or, in the worst case scenario, get beaten at every Wii game by a six year old.
Don't be shy and get in touch - I love connecting with my readers. Blog:www.teodorakostova.blogspot.com
Twitter: @Teodora_Kostova
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/teodorakostovaauthor
E-mail: t.t.kostova@gmail.com
When I'm procrastinating, I like to go to the gym, cook Italian meals (and eat them), read, listen to rock music, watch indie movies and True Blood re-runs. Or, in the worst case scenario, get beaten at every Wii game by a six year old.
Don't be shy and get in touch - I love connecting with my readers. Blog:www.teodorakostova.blogspot.com
Twitter: @Teodora_Kostova
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/teodorakostovaauthor
E-mail: t.t.kostova@gmail.com
In a Heartbeat description:
Stella
“I’ve been in and out of hospitals for the past ten months. I’ve had half my liver removed and even though this time the doctors are very optimistic that they’ve removed all of the tumours, they can’t be sure. In another three months they want me here again for a check up. Right now I feel better than I’ve ever felt. I know the damn thing is gone, at least for the moment. Despite that, I can’t make any plans for the future, not yet. I need to go somewhere where nobody knows me, where I can relax and maybe even forget about all this. Where I can meet people who don’t think of me as the girl who lost her father and her brother in a car accident, and who has cancer. I want to have fun, even if it’s for a couple of months.”
When Stella decides to visit her estranged cousin Lisa in Genoa, she has no idea Italy will give her a new reason to live.
Max
“Her gaze locked on a scene so beautiful, the picturesque beach paled in comparison. A lifeguard emerged from the water, his orange trunks stuck to his legs and water dripping all over him. He shook his head to get rid of some of the water in his hair and Stella felt as if everything started developing in slow motion – tiny drops of water slid from his neck down his broad chest and muscular arms, along a weaving tattoo on his right shoulder, and continued downwards towards his chest and washboard stomach, finally getting lost in the waistband of his trunks. A part of another tattoo peeked over his trunks on his left hip, the other part hidden under them. It was a total Baywatch moment.”
Their love is epic. But there are too many things keeping them apart.
“How could you keep this from me, Lisa? If you had told me the first day I met him, I would have avoided him like the plague. Nothing would have happened between us.”
“I kept your secrets, too, Stella.”
Are Max and Stella strong enough to fight not only for their love, but for their lives?
Stella
“I’ve been in and out of hospitals for the past ten months. I’ve had half my liver removed and even though this time the doctors are very optimistic that they’ve removed all of the tumours, they can’t be sure. In another three months they want me here again for a check up. Right now I feel better than I’ve ever felt. I know the damn thing is gone, at least for the moment. Despite that, I can’t make any plans for the future, not yet. I need to go somewhere where nobody knows me, where I can relax and maybe even forget about all this. Where I can meet people who don’t think of me as the girl who lost her father and her brother in a car accident, and who has cancer. I want to have fun, even if it’s for a couple of months.”
When Stella decides to visit her estranged cousin Lisa in Genoa, she has no idea Italy will give her a new reason to live.
Max
“Her gaze locked on a scene so beautiful, the picturesque beach paled in comparison. A lifeguard emerged from the water, his orange trunks stuck to his legs and water dripping all over him. He shook his head to get rid of some of the water in his hair and Stella felt as if everything started developing in slow motion – tiny drops of water slid from his neck down his broad chest and muscular arms, along a weaving tattoo on his right shoulder, and continued downwards towards his chest and washboard stomach, finally getting lost in the waistband of his trunks. A part of another tattoo peeked over his trunks on his left hip, the other part hidden under them. It was a total Baywatch moment.”
Their love is epic. But there are too many things keeping them apart.
“How could you keep this from me, Lisa? If you had told me the first day I met him, I would have avoided him like the plague. Nothing would have happened between us.”
“I kept your secrets, too, Stella.”
Are Max and Stella strong enough to fight not only for their love, but for their lives?
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Then, Now, Forever excerpts:
Without warning, Gia straightened her upper body and started pulling at the hem of Beppe’s shirt, pushing it up and trying to get it over his head. Beppe chuckled at her hasty moves and shifted to help her remove his tee. His exposed skin tingled with anticipation under Gia’s stare. She brushed the tips of her fingers over every scar, every bump and imperfection on Beppe’s chest. He had to rein in his desire to stop her. This right now, this moment, was theirs. It belonged to them. Nothing else mattered.
“Come here,” Beppe said softly, catching her exploring hands and pulling her back on top of him. Gia propped herself on her elbows and kept her face a few inches away from Beppe’s. “Don’t think, baby. Let it all go. Just feel.” Gia closed her eyes and her face twisted as if in pain. “Hey, look at me,” Beppe said softly, stroking his thumbs over her cheekbones. Gia opened her eyes and the struggle in them grabbed at his heart. “It’s just us now. It’s always been us. You and me, OK?”
“You and me,” Gia repeated and some of the pain in her eyes evaporated. She smiled tentatively and pressed her lips against his again, opening them wider with the tip of her wet tongue.
*******
They managed to remove all the shards from his back and arms using only a local anesthetic.
It was a miracle Beppe hadn’t sustained worse injuries, considering the force of the impact. While the doctor tended to him, Gia filled all the forms. Thank God she was nineteen, or they would have had a much bigger problem on their hands trying to find someone to come with them and explain Beppe’s injuries.
He was released three hours later, glass-free, pumped full of antibiotics and pain killers. Gia took him to her house, cooked them both dinner and refused to let him go back home. She helped clean him up without disturbing the bandages too much and then tucked him in her bed.
“Where are you going?” Beppe asked when Gia covered him with a soft blanket and turned to leave.
“I'm going to sleep in mum’s room.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t want to bother you during the night. You need rest and your back hurts, I don’t wanna accidentally hurt you...”
“Stop. You’re not gonna hurt me. The bed’s big enough. Just come over here.”
She looked at him, hesitating. It wasn’t just that she didn’t want to disturb him. She felt the need to cry and scream and throw stuff, but didn’t want to break down in front of him.
“Gia, please. I need you to stay.”
Slowly she nodded and walked over to her wardrobe to get some fresh clothes.
“OK. I just need to take a shower.”
Walking into her en-suite bathroom, Gia closed the door firmly behind her and turned the shower on, hoping the sound of the water would drown her sobs.
When she finished in the bathroom, she found Beppe in the exact same position as she’d left him – on his tummy, his head turned towards her, his eyes open, but heavy with sleep and pain killers. Gia hesitated again thinking it might be better to go sleep in her mum’s room after all, but instead she moved to the side of the bed. Beppe tugged the blanket aside and patted the mattress, his usual smirk trying to appear on his lips. She lay next to him then, turning on her side to face him.
“You cried in the shower,” he stated. There was no point in denying it – if he hadn’t actually heard her, the red, swollen eyes must be a dead giveaway, so she nodded and sighed.
“Don’t. Please, don’t cry for me. I can’t stand to see you cry.”
“How can I not? I’ve been watching that monster beat you and over and you won’t even let me help.”
“You are helping. Every single time.”
“Yeah. After. I want to help so that this never happens again. I don’t want to heal your wounds and hold you while you cry. I want it to stop.”
******
Many nights she woke up so shaken by the need to feel Beppe close to her that her every nerve ending tingled with pain. She craved his touch like a drug addict in withdrawal. Gia would reach frantically for her phone and dial Beppe’s number with trembling hands. The ringing always seemed to go on forever while she waited for Beppe to pick up.
“Gia? Is everything OK?” She'd hear his sleepy voice and that was all it would take to make her break down. “Baby, you’re scaring me. Please say something.”
“I miss you so much it hurts to breathe.”
“Amore...” Beppe would suck in a tortured breath and Gia was sure he was crying as well.
They didn't need to say anything else and Gia was never sure how she’d fallen back to sleep, but when she woke up the next morning she always had the phone clutched firmly in her hand.
Beppe invited Gia to visit every time they spoke, yet every time she refused. If it was so hard to hang up the phone and severe the connection she had with his voice, how could she leave when she actually saw him, touched him, kissed him? It would be impossible and she knew it – she’d already let him go once, there was no way she could ever do it again.
Without warning, Gia straightened her upper body and started pulling at the hem of Beppe’s shirt, pushing it up and trying to get it over his head. Beppe chuckled at her hasty moves and shifted to help her remove his tee. His exposed skin tingled with anticipation under Gia’s stare. She brushed the tips of her fingers over every scar, every bump and imperfection on Beppe’s chest. He had to rein in his desire to stop her. This right now, this moment, was theirs. It belonged to them. Nothing else mattered.
“Come here,” Beppe said softly, catching her exploring hands and pulling her back on top of him. Gia propped herself on her elbows and kept her face a few inches away from Beppe’s. “Don’t think, baby. Let it all go. Just feel.” Gia closed her eyes and her face twisted as if in pain. “Hey, look at me,” Beppe said softly, stroking his thumbs over her cheekbones. Gia opened her eyes and the struggle in them grabbed at his heart. “It’s just us now. It’s always been us. You and me, OK?”
“You and me,” Gia repeated and some of the pain in her eyes evaporated. She smiled tentatively and pressed her lips against his again, opening them wider with the tip of her wet tongue.
*******
They managed to remove all the shards from his back and arms using only a local anesthetic.
It was a miracle Beppe hadn’t sustained worse injuries, considering the force of the impact. While the doctor tended to him, Gia filled all the forms. Thank God she was nineteen, or they would have had a much bigger problem on their hands trying to find someone to come with them and explain Beppe’s injuries.
He was released three hours later, glass-free, pumped full of antibiotics and pain killers. Gia took him to her house, cooked them both dinner and refused to let him go back home. She helped clean him up without disturbing the bandages too much and then tucked him in her bed.
“Where are you going?” Beppe asked when Gia covered him with a soft blanket and turned to leave.
“I'm going to sleep in mum’s room.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t want to bother you during the night. You need rest and your back hurts, I don’t wanna accidentally hurt you...”
“Stop. You’re not gonna hurt me. The bed’s big enough. Just come over here.”
She looked at him, hesitating. It wasn’t just that she didn’t want to disturb him. She felt the need to cry and scream and throw stuff, but didn’t want to break down in front of him.
“Gia, please. I need you to stay.”
Slowly she nodded and walked over to her wardrobe to get some fresh clothes.
“OK. I just need to take a shower.”
Walking into her en-suite bathroom, Gia closed the door firmly behind her and turned the shower on, hoping the sound of the water would drown her sobs.
When she finished in the bathroom, she found Beppe in the exact same position as she’d left him – on his tummy, his head turned towards her, his eyes open, but heavy with sleep and pain killers. Gia hesitated again thinking it might be better to go sleep in her mum’s room after all, but instead she moved to the side of the bed. Beppe tugged the blanket aside and patted the mattress, his usual smirk trying to appear on his lips. She lay next to him then, turning on her side to face him.
“You cried in the shower,” he stated. There was no point in denying it – if he hadn’t actually heard her, the red, swollen eyes must be a dead giveaway, so she nodded and sighed.
“Don’t. Please, don’t cry for me. I can’t stand to see you cry.”
“How can I not? I’ve been watching that monster beat you and over and you won’t even let me help.”
“You are helping. Every single time.”
“Yeah. After. I want to help so that this never happens again. I don’t want to heal your wounds and hold you while you cry. I want it to stop.”
******
Many nights she woke up so shaken by the need to feel Beppe close to her that her every nerve ending tingled with pain. She craved his touch like a drug addict in withdrawal. Gia would reach frantically for her phone and dial Beppe’s number with trembling hands. The ringing always seemed to go on forever while she waited for Beppe to pick up.
“Gia? Is everything OK?” She'd hear his sleepy voice and that was all it would take to make her break down. “Baby, you’re scaring me. Please say something.”
“I miss you so much it hurts to breathe.”
“Amore...” Beppe would suck in a tortured breath and Gia was sure he was crying as well.
They didn't need to say anything else and Gia was never sure how she’d fallen back to sleep, but when she woke up the next morning she always had the phone clutched firmly in her hand.
Beppe invited Gia to visit every time they spoke, yet every time she refused. If it was so hard to hang up the phone and severe the connection she had with his voice, how could she leave when she actually saw him, touched him, kissed him? It would be impossible and she knew it – she’d already let him go once, there was no way she could ever do it again.
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