Distortion Playlist- Distortion Blog Tour with Deena Remiel
Good Morning and welcome to this stop in the blog our for Distortion. Most authors have specific songs that speak to them, and Deena has provided the playlist for Distortion. There are some great songs! But first the buy links!
I Can See Clearly Now the Rain is Gone- Johnny Nash
The First Time Ever I saw Your Face- Matt Cardle
Sunday Morning- Maroon Five
The Air That I Breathe- the Hollies
One Way or Another- Blondie
Every Breath you Take- The Police
I’ll Stand By You- The Pretenders
Just Give Me A Reason- Pink
I Will Wait-Mumford and Sons
Eternal Flame- the Bangles
Come Away With Me- Nora Jones
Truly, Madly, Deeply- Savage Garden
Now for the Excerpt!
“Ow! Son of a bitch!” What the hell had she stepped on? Bending over, she looked down to find a large shard of a shell sticking up out of the sand. Damn it! She picked up her right foot to inspect it and watched as droplets of blood mixed in with the crushed shells and cigarette butts. Well, isn’t this just grand? So much for starting out on the right foot. The cut on her sole bled profusely, and she wasn’t quite sure how to staunch it other than cover it with her shirt. Thank goodness she’d worn a bathing suit underneath her clothes. But how to get back to her house? She snorted. Good question, Hope. Now what’s the answer?
She looked around for anyone that might be as crazy as she for coming out so early, but not a soul joined her. Great. Now what? Her foot throbbed in rhythm with her heart. She needed to get it washed, bandaged, and up in the air quickly. She searched around again, this time to see how close any of the beach houses were that dotted past the dunes. The one nearest had sea green shingles and a white wrap around porch. It had a very non-assuming and friendly look. She’d been judged by the book covers she created, so she figured the house may very well be a good reflection of its owner.
Hobbling through the sand and up the dunes gave her quite a workout. Every step she took made her wince and left a little token of her affection for the sea, a bloody footprint. Her once white tank top now wrapped clumsily around her foot, boasted a horrid shade of deep red. She reached the apex of the sand hill and saw the silhouette of a person sitting on the porch.
“Hello? Hello!” She waved her arms high in the air. “Excuse me; I could use a little help. I’ve cut my foot and I’m bleeding like a stuck pig.” The blob didn’t move. Did she mistake an outdoor statue for a person? She hoped not because she felt like crap at this point. Gathering her energy, Hope drew in a deep breath and projected her voice. “Excuse me! Can you help me, please? Hello? Oh….”
The world according to Hope whirled around her and spun out of control. Her body crumbled and rolled down the dune toward the house. Abruptly, all went dark.
She soared through the clouds, catching the wind beneath her wings. Coming out of her fog, she realized instead that someone had been carrying her and walking at the same time. But who? Her brain swam like when she’d twirled a hundred times on the grass as a child. Opening her eyes, she looked up at her savior and thought she must still be in “La La Land.” A strong jawline, a straight nose, and five o’clock shadow graced the profile of a Greek god. A hairband captured dark brown hair at the base of his neck. Her foot twitched and she groaned.
“Easy now, I’ve got you. My name is James White and I’m just gonna bring you onto my porch to see to that foot of yours.”
“Oh, thank you, James. I’m Hope Evans. I don’t feel so well. I stepped on a shell. My foot is cut real bad.” Her head fell back onto his chest like a rag doll.
“Hi there, Hope. Don’t worry. I’m certified.” He laid her gently on a chaise lounge, grabbed a few pillows from some other chairs and placed them under her foot. “I’ll be right back. I need to get my first aid kit, and I think a cup of OJ for you to drink might help, too.” His smile reassured her that all would be well. He ducked inside giving her a chance to look around. She’d missed most of the sun rise, but she didn’t care anymore. Due to a kindhearted fellow, she’d found an angel at dawn instead.
It was the mystique of Arizona’s history and landscape that called to Deena and catapulted her career as an author. When she’s not writing urban fantasy and paranormal romance novels in the wee, small hours of the morning or in the deep, dark of night, Deena teaches language arts to middle school students. She currently lives in Gilbert with her husband and two children, but New Jersey will always tug at her heartstrings. She loves connecting with her fans, so find her at deenaremiel.com.
Make sure you heck out Deena on her social media!