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.

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

betrayal seems to be lurking around every corner - Home No More by Leddy Harper

"This is a brilliant well constructed story with a unique twist on the taken genre that is very popular. [...] Leddy has done a brilliant job with this story that will have you on the edge of your seat through the many twists and turns as the truths come to light." - Goodreads, Fictional BookHos


Never take for granted where you came from... or where you may end up.

My name is Kendall Carrington—or so I thought…

When 17-year-old Kendall gets pulled over during an impromptu joy ride, she not only discovers she is not the girl she thought she was, but neither is anyone else.

Kidnapped when she was young, she is thrust back into a life she doesn’t remember. One where her name is Danielle Tucker and betrayal seems to be lurking around every corner.

No longer able to decipher the truth from the lies, she enlists the help of blue-eyed hottie Lincoln Hunt on her quest for truth.

Will she come to terms with her new life? Or will she go running back to the only home she’s ever known?



The winding, two-lane highway was deserted at that time of night. It was just me and the stupid cop behind me. His lights nearly blinded me in my rearview mirror. Red and blue. Panic crept in and set my heart racing as I pulled onto the right shoulder, hoping he’d pass on his way to something more important.

He didn’t. He pulled over behind me. Terror flooded my senses and my hands convulsed as I rolled down the window, my mind going through all the things I could’ve been doing wrong. I hadn’t been speeding, my lights were on, I didn’t weave or pass improperly—there were no cars to even pass.

The officer walked up to my window with his hand on his belt. For a second, I thought he was going to grab his gun. Instead, he pulled out his long flashlight and shone it onto my lap where my hands were twisted together.

“License and registration, please, ma’am.”

How in the hell would I get out of this? I had no license—never had one—and the car was registered under someone else’s name. I reached into the glove box and pulled out the registration, hoping he would forget all about my license.

“Your license, too, please.” Of course, he wouldn’t forget that.

“I’m sorry, officer, but I left home without it. I was just running up to the gas station for some headache medicine. I wasn’t even thinking when I left.” I wasn’t exactly lying; I was going to need something for the headache his blinding lights were giving me.

He crouched down far enough to see into the car; it was the first time I got a good look at his face. He was an older man, probably in his late forties, with graying hair. He had a cleanly shaven face and green eyes that seemed so familiar, but it was hard to see in the dark.

The beam from the flashlight hit my face and I moved my hand to shield my eyes. I waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he stood there, shining his light on me and, from what I could assume, staring at me.

I did not need this. An older man using his powers of the law to get what he wanted. I refused to do that. He could throw me in jail for all I cared. I would not suck or spread anything for this pervert.

“Excuse me, officer, but is there some reason you’re doing that?” I longed to have the light out of my eyes, off of my face. My sudden headache intensified and my panic levels reached an all-time high. Sweat beaded on my forehead and in my armpits. I couldn’t stop shaking, and I struggled to keep my voice steady.

He lowered the beam back to my lap. I couldn’t decide what was worse, him gawking over my face or my vagina. At least I wasn’t being blinded anymore.

“What’s your name, young lady?” I had expected him to sound perverse, but he didn’t. He sounded concerned, almost like he would when talking to a child. I guess compared to him, an eighteen-year-old would be a child. But I had been through far too many things to be seen as one.

“Tiffany.” I knew not to give my real name. Billy had told me time and time again. I’d had the name picked out since I was fifteen, since Billy had come and saved me. I hadn’t had to use it yet. But I said it with such certainty that my real name very well could have been Tiffany, not Kendall.

“Your full name, please.”

I probably should have already come up with one of those. I used to have one picked out, but as I got older, I didn’t like it anymore and just never found a new one.

“Stark.” I berated myself for saying it. I had glanced up at the sky and saw the stars, and in that moment, Stark had become my last name. I had no doubt he knew I’d lied. My voice didn’t sound nearly as confident as it had when I’d said my first name—or as I should say, my make-believe first name.

“Give me a minute, if you will.” He vanished behind the car. I could still hear him, though. He stood far enough away that I couldn’t make out his words, but I could hear the depth of his voice.

He wasn’t gone long. He came back to ask more questions. My middle name, my birthday, where I was from. Each answer I gave him, he responded to the radio on his shoulder, and a crackling voice would sound back something inaudible to me.

“Ma’am, you are not showing up in the DMV records for this entire state. This car is registered to a male, and you have no way to prove your identity. I’m going to need to take you with me. Please open the door and step out with your hands up.” He set his hand on his belt again. This time, I knew it rested on his weapon.

“I’m sorry, officer, but you have yet to tell me why you pulled me over.”

“Your tag light is out. Now please, remove yourself from the vehicle.”

My tag light. My life crumbled to insignificant pieces because of a fucking tag light that costs a whopping five dollars.

About the author:
Leddy Harper had to use her imagination often as a child. She grew up the only girl in a house full of boys. At the age of fourteen, she decided to use that imagination and wrote her first book, and never stopped.

She often calls writing her therapy, using it as a way to deal with issues through the eyes of her characters.

She is now a mother of three girls, leaving her husband as the only man in a house full of females.

The decision to publish her first book was made as a way of showing her children to go after whatever it is they want to. Love what you do and do it well. Most importantly Leddy wanted to teach them what it means to overcome their fears.

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