Albert Camus

Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.

Friday, May 2, 2014

Excerpt and Giveaway: Losing Logan by Sherry D. Ficklin

Release Date: May 6th, 2014


What if the one thing you never meant to hold on to, was the one thing you couldn’t let go of?

Normally finding a hot guy in her bedroom wouldn’t irritate Zoe so badly, but finding her childhood friend Logan there is a big problem. Mostly because he’s dead.

As the only person he can make contact with, he talks Zoe into helping him put together the pieces surrounding his mysterious death so he can move on. Thrust into his world of ultra popular rich kids, Zoe is out of her element and caught in the cross-hairs of Logan’s suspicious ex-girlfriend and the friends he left behind, each of whom had a reason to want him dead. The deeper they dig to find the truth, the closer Zoe gets to a killer who would do anything to protect his secrets. And that’s just the start of her problems because Zoe is falling for a dead guy.


“Good morning sleepy head.”

I let out a startled noise and trip backward, landing on my butt.

“For shits sake, don’t do that.” I say finally as Logan stands over me chuckling.
He holds out his hand like he’s going to help me up. I raise an eyebrow at the gesture.

He shrugs and drops his hand, walking away.

“Oh, right. I forgot.”

I struggle to my feet and he drops into my sitting chair. “So, were you dreaming about me? You kept saying my name in your sleep.”

“How long have you been here?” I accuse, narrowing my eyes.

He waves me off. “A while. I got bored. Nowhere else to go.”

I turn my back to him, sliding open my closet. “Stalker.”

"You know, you should be flattered. I mean I could be stalking anybody right now. Cool people."

I yawn and pull a pair of dark jeans and my soft grey Henley off hangers.

"Yes. Lucky me. And to think, you’re passing up the opportunity to literally be a fly in the wall at the playboy mansion right now just to hang out here and irritate me into an early grave."

A knock at my door makes me jump. Mom peeks her head in, looking around.

“Hey, what are you doing in here?” She widens the door a little, checking behind it. “I thought I heard you talking to someone.

I sigh, “No mom, just…practicing my lines. Carlos is making me try out for Gone with the Wind with him this year.”

The lie comes out smoother than I expect. I think I can count the number of times I’ve lied to my mother on one hand, that is, if you don’t count all the times she’s asked me how I’m doing and I say, fine mom. Everything’s great. Because those lies would number in the thousands.

She gives me a wary half smile. It’s hard to tell if she’s not buying it, or if she’s just exhausted. She’s been working double and triple shifts at the hospital for months. I get why. Idol time is when the pain creeps back in. Happens to me too. Maybe that’s why I agreed to help Logan. Maybe I just need a distraction.

Mom walks into my room and puts her arms around me in an awkward hug as I try to hug her back with one arm while still holding onto my clothes.

“You doing okay?” She asks, brushing the hair out of my face.

“Sure mom. I’m fine.”

She nods and takes a step back. “Have you done your back to school shopping yet?”

“I’m going to see if Carlos wants to go today.”

Her eyes brighten and I turn away. She adores Carlos.

Hell, who doesn’t?

“Well you two have fun. I’m going to put together a dessert for the staff barbeque tonight. Did you want to come with me?”

I frown where she can’t see me. Truth is I’d rather be raked naked over hot coals than spend five minutes with her colleagues from the hospital. Between the gossipy nurses, rude orderlies, and Doctor Tucker, the resident surgeon who always leers at her right in front of his poor wife, a fork to the eyeball sounds more fun.

“I think Carlos wants to go to some poetry reading at the tea room tonight.”

Another lie. Wow, I’m really on a roll today.

“Hey, your mom is really trying to spend time with you. You should go.” Logan chimes in from the chair. I grit my teeth and ignore him.

“Oh, well, ok then. I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow after my shift.”

I nod, not turning back to her as she leaves, closing the door behind her.

“You know, if you die tomorrow and those were the last words you said to her, you would feel like shit. Trust me, I know.”

“Ground rules. Number one, no watching me sleep like a perv. And number two, no guilt trips about my relationship with my mom—or anyone else for that matter. Keep any and all urges to be my undead life coach to yourself. Clear?”

He nods. I turn on my heel and head for the bathroom. I need a shower and five minutes away from all the people talking in my head, living and dead.

About the author:
Sherry D. Ficklin is a full time writer from Colorado where she lives with her husband, four kids, two dogs, and a fluctuating number of chickens and house guests. A former military brat, she loves to travel and meet new people. She can often be found browsing her local bookstore with a large white hot chocolate in one hand and a towering stack of books in the other. That is, unless she’s on deadline at which time she, like the Loch Ness monster, is only seen in blurry photographs.

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1 comment:

Unknown said...

thanks for a great giveaway love swag and books