Making It Fierce E-Book

Luke Jameson

• Herausgeber: Cruz Publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

“Please, don’t look at me.”

Elijah Stevens once epitomized strength and valor. He spent 14 years of his life in the Marines, but an accident left him disfigured and ashamed. Returning to his hometown, he finds solace in the loving embrace of his grandmother. Frightened of being pitied, he struggles to find meaningful work, until she points out that he has the voice of an angel.
Now Elijah is a successful audiobook narrator and voice actor. He’s made peace with his life in the shadows, until one day while narrating a romance novel, he realizes he’s never been lonelier in his life.
Lucas Crane hosts a popular radio show, and his soothing voice and sense of humor have earned him a devoted fan base. Lucas never lacks for male attention, but he’s never met a man who held his interest beyond three dates. That changes when he meets an extremely shy voice actor, who insists on recording a commercial in the dark.
Intrigued by this mystery man, Lucas pursues him, but soon despairs of ever breaking through the sad man’s walls. Until one day, the barriers to Elijah’s heart begin to crumble.

Making It Fierce is a love story between a stubborn man afraid of his reflection in the mirror, and the bright, funny man who coaxes him out of the shadows. The authors love tropes, and here you’ll find opposites attract, a military man, hurt/comfort, and more. 


 

Leseprobe

MAKING IT FIERCE

MAKING IT

IAN O. LEWIS

LUKE JAMESON

Copyright © 2023 by Ian O. Lewis

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. All similarities with actual people, places, and settings is a coincidence.

CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Epilogue

About the Author

Also by Ian O. Lewis

PROLOGUE

ELIJAH FOUR YEARS AGO

“Please go talk to your friend Elijah. This is the third time he’s stopped by, and I feel awful lying to him.” Granny called down to the basement.

“Don’t lie,” I sighed. “Just tell Jamie I don’t want to talk right now.”

“That’s so rude,” Granny’s voice was laced with disappointment. “Didn’t you and Jamie date a long time ago?”

“Granny, yeah, we did.” I grabbed the cord that connected the microphone to the recording console and attempted to reconnect it, but now my hands were shaking too bad to do it. “Tell Jamie I’m working. It’s not a lie, I really am.” I dropped the cord on the floor. “Damn it.”

“Elijah, this young man cares for you.” Granny paused for a moment. “Talk to him, please. You can’t hide away from the world forever.”

I was tempted to say, “Yes, I can.” But my grandmother would have a fit. “Granny, I’m not ready yet.” I picked up the cord and placed it on my workbench. “Please, make him go away. I don’t care what you tell him, just say anything to get him off our front porch.”

The sound of the basement door shutting made my stomach clench. I knew I was letting Granny down, but I didn’t want to see Jamie, or anyone else. Without thinking, I ran my fingers over the scars on my forehead and scalp. The skin was firmer than the rest of my skin, and tougher. Plus, I could barely feel my fingers on it thanks to lessened sensitivity. Thank God for that. When I was first injured, it itched so badly my doctors prescribed me anxiety pills to calm the urge to scratch.

“Jamie Egan. Why do you keep coming around?” I shut my eyes and his face filled my head. Wavy blonde hair, blue eyes, and a goofy sense of humor. We’d dated for a few weeks before I joined the marines. He was a great guy, but it’s not like I carried a torch for him. When I enlisted, he’d enrolled at VCU as an art student. We exchanged letters and emails for a year or two after that, then our communications slowly tapered off. How he knew I was back in Richmond baffled me, since I hadn’t announced it to anyone but Granny.

“Granny, how could you...” I whispered, suddenly very aware that it was her. She’d somehow remembered Jamie, and likely hunted him down to invite him over. I loved my grandmother to pieces, but I wish she’d respect my wishes.

I want to be alone.

* * *

“... and when I saw her lying there, on the sand laughing with her girlfriends, something inside me died.”

I turned off the microphone and shut my laptop. This was my first audiobook, and it was taking me forever since I was so new to this.

When I returned from Syria, I didn’t know how I was going to get a job. Nobody would hire a guy like me, with scars beginning above my left brow and going all the way back to the crown of my head. Granny told me to wear a hat to interviews, but I didn’t want to face the questioning gazes it would provoke.

After three months of hiding in her basement, Granny dragged me to church one Sunday morning. I wore my nicest suit and shoes, and one of my father’s fedoras. He’d been a sales rep for a pharmaceutical company and always wore the snappiest hats. You could still see the scar over my brow, but the hat hid the worst of it. While I wasn’t a believer, I was grateful Granny dragged me out of my cave that Sunday morning.

When I was a kid, I sang in the choir at the First Baptist Church of Richmond. I loved it and never missed a Sunday. Sitting in the pew next to her, I recalled how excited I was to perform in front of hundreds of people. The thought of doing that now was terrifying.

“Elijah, you still have the most beautiful voice. I know you won’t sing in the church choir now, but have you ever thought of finding a job that uses your talent?” Granny roped her arm through mine and we began walking home down Monument Avenue. “Why don’t you read books aloud? I listen to audiobooks every morning while I’m out walking. You’d be a perfect narrator.”

The very next day, I’d gone online and ordered microphones, a new laptop, and soundproofing equipment. Within six weeks I scored my first job, and the author was so impressed with my work she gave me more books to read.

The audiobook recording job was perfect for me. It paid my way, allowing me to help Granny out with what she needed, while still giving me a way to escape the outside world. I didn’t have to be around people face-to-face, instead just relaying words through a microphone.

Now I was auditioning for voice-over work. Radio commercials, and narrating videos for YouTube. The money was great, and I could work as much or as little as I wanted. But the best part?

I could be alone. And, I could read all the books I wanted.

Granny worked as a librarian at the Richmond Public Library on First Street for almost forty years before retiring. My Saturday afternoons at the Richmond Public Library were some of my happiest memories as a child. Granny would take me there and, while she worked, I’d explore the stacks or go into the children’s section and read whatever book caught my interest. As I was a fast learner, I soon outgrew the children's section and moved on to the adult books.

Now I was being paid to read books, and aside from the fact that it enabled me to make a living without being around people, it was my dream job.

The door to the basement creaked open. “Elijah, I told Jamie you were working.”

“Thank you.”

I heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and a moment later Granny was in front of me.

“Sweetheart, you’ve barely left the basement in days. Why don’t you come upstairs and eat at the table with me? I miss your company.” Granny said.

My throat tightened as I realized how much time I’d spent alone in the basement with just my books for company. I missed talking to Granny and sharing meals together like we used to.

“Sure,” I breathed, giving her a small smile. “I’ll be up in fifteen minutes, okay?”

She said nothing, just turned around and went back up the stairs. Granny rarely came down here because she had a difficult time with the steps. She also thought it was depressing being in the dark basement, with its damp walls and musty smell. I knew she only came down to check on me, to make sure I was okay.

I exhaled slowly and sat back in my chair. The wall to wall carpeting was the same as when I was a kid. It was the same brown/green color favored by cheap office buildings from decades ago. Every couple of years, a hurricane would hit Virginia, and the basement always flooded. Since I’d been here, I’d painted the walls with a special paint that kept mold and mildew away.

I’d also fixed up my dad’s old recliner and claimed it for my own. One night when I was only six years old, he passed out drunk with a cigarette in his hand. The recliner caught on fire, but thank goodness my mother put it out before it did major damage to both my father and the chair. That was the last thing I remembered about her. She’d left Dad, and me and moved to Georgia to be with another man she’d had a long distance affair with for years.

That suited both of us just fine. Dad might have been a drunk, but he loved me. My mother, on the other hand, always treated me like an afterthought or a chore to be taken care of.

Granny, Daddy, and I got along fine without her, and apparently she didn’t give a damn about me since I’ve never heard from her. A cousin once emailed me, letting me know she was sick in some small town called Tifton. I let that tidbit simmer in the back of my mind until Dad died when I was seventeen. I thought she’d want to know, so I sent her a letter telling her about his death, and what I’d been up to since she’d left us.

I never heard back from her. Instead, I got a phone call from my half-sister, whom I’d never known of. She’d been excited to connect with me, but she wasn’t who I wanted to hear from. I wanted my mother, but it seemed she was content to just stay away.

My half-sister tried her best to fill in the blanks for me. She explained that my mother had been married twice more and had two sons and a girl. She told me all about my nieces and nephews and even sent pictures of them all together at family gatherings in Georgia.

It was strange to think about this entire world that existed without me—family that I had never known of before now. It made me wonder what my life could have been like if I hadn’t grown up with just Granny and Dad in Virginia.

And why was I so easily forgotten? What had I done to deserve this?

Nothing.

Leslie, my half-sister, kept insisting I come south for a visit. Instead, the summer after I graduated from Thomas Jefferson High School, I enrolled in the marines.

Granny forwarded a few letters from Leslie, and I even got one from a half-brother named Thorn. I threw them away unopened, and eventually they stopped writing.

The marines were good to me, and I excelled at my job. Then one day, while sweeping through empty stone buildings, there was an explosion. Falling debris hit me on the head, and the next three days were a blank. I woke up in a hospital bed with my head wrapped in gauze and my arm in a cast. An older male nurse was adjusting some tubes that were attached to me.

“Where am I?” I asked groggily.

“You’re at the Naval Hospital in Beirut, son,” he said, patting my shoulder gently.

That night, something strange happened. As I drifted off to sleep, I dreamt of a place riddled with bright green moss and dark stone walls. In the center there was an old woman—her back was arched like a cat’s and her skin was wrinkled like crepe paper. She whispered to me in a language I’d never heard before, but somehow understood: “You’re going home.”

“And now I’m home.” I sighed, glancing around the dark basement. Now that I’d found work, I wanted to fix up the basement. Add a small kitchen perhaps, and most definitely a bathroom. Though Granny hated the idea, I thought it was the perfect place for me. Why?

I wanted to be by myself.

No more betrayals and lies from my so-called family. And no more pitying looks when people caught a glimpse of my scars.

“Elijah, your food is getting cold!” Granny called down the steps.

“Coming.”

CHAPTER1

LUCAS

As the red recording light blinked to life in the radio station’s soundproof booth, I leaned back in my chair, adjusting my headphones with a grin. The soft hum of the control room outside and the anticipation of a live audience never failed to send a rush of excitement through me. I loved being a deejay, and I was the master of the airwaves.

“Good afternoon, lovely listeners of WVAR,” I crooned into the microphone, my voice smooth as silk. “It’s that time of day again when you’re itching to escape your cubicles and head home. Lucky for you, I’m here to provide the soundtrack to your evening commute, and I promise it won’t be as painful as your boss’s latest PowerPoint presentation.”

A chuckle escaped my lips as I imagined my audience, stuck in traffic, sharing knowing glances with their fellow commuters. “But hey, we’ve got a fantastic show lined up for you today. We’re talking about love, folks, and not just any kind of love—no, no. We’re diving deep into the mysterious realm of love at first sight. Have you ever locked eyes with someone and just knew, ‘Yep, they’re the one’? Or maybe you thought, ‘Oh, no, they’re definitely not?’”

I paused for dramatic effect, letting the anticipation build in the airwaves. “We want to hear your stories, your tales of love—or maybe just lust—at first sight. Call in, and let’s turn this ordinary Wednesday afternoon into something extraordinary. I’ll be your trusty guide through the world of first impressions, and who knows, you might even discover your next great love story right here on WVAR! Now, let’s listen to the latest hit from Richmond’s own Jett Sumner.”

The music started, and I hit the mic mute button so I could speak with my co-host Dev without listeners hearing us.

“Hey girl, you’re running late,” I said with a smile as Dev settled into her chair and grabbed the headphones. She blushed sheepishly and nodded. “Sorry about that. It’s been a crazy day.”

Dev had been my partner in crime at WVAR for a few months now, and she always knew how to inject the perfect touch of sass and wit into our conversations. Her real name was Dinah, but on air and on stage, she was known as Dev L. Ish.

“We’re talking about everyone’s favorite topic, love.” I winked. “Ready to jump in when Jett’s song ends?”

“You know my track record with love,” Dev shrugged. “I still can’t believe my old pal Jett has a number one hit. It’s not his best song, but if people love it, I’m happy to play it.”

Dev was funny as hell, and a total goth. She used to be an erotic dancer. Then she’d moved to Mexico with her ex-girlfriend. Now she was back in Richmond filling the airwaves during the afternoons with me, and performing at burlesque shows at night.

“Song ends in ten seconds,” I nodded at Dev.

Dev nodded eagerly and leaned forward, adjusting her microphone before taking a deep breath. “Welcome back, Richmond! It’s your girl, Dev speaking. Now, my good friend Lucas here just set us up with a real serious topic: love at first sight. Whether it’s infatuation, chemistry or something more… We want to hear your stories!”

The lines on our call board lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Looks like we have our first brave soul on the line,” she announced with a grin. “Caller, you’re live on WVAR. Tell us your name and your love-at-first-sight story.”

A woman’s voice filled the airwaves, her enthusiasm practically bouncing through the phone lines. “Hey, Dev and Lucas, this is Lily from Richmond. So, picture this—I was at a coffee shop, minding my own business, waiting for my latte, when suddenly, this guy walked in. Tall, dark, and handsome, you know, the swarthy type. Our eyes locked for a moment, and I swear, it was like time stopped.”

I couldn’t help but interject with a playful tease. “Lily, are you sure it wasn’t just the caffeine playing tricks on your heart?”

Dev joined in, her laughter contagious. “Yeah, Lily, those espresso shots can be potent love potions!”

Lily laughed along with us, clearly enjoying the banter. “No, seriously, guys, it was like a movie moment. We started talking, and it turns out we had so much in common. Fast forward a year, and we’re happily married with a little one on the way.”

I shared a knowing glance with Dev, and we both let out a collective “aww” that was sure to be heard by our listeners. “That’s a heartwarming story, Lily,” I said. “Love at first sight and now a beautiful family. Thanks for sharing with us today.”

Dev chimed in, her voice warm. “Lily, you’ve officially set the bar high for our love stories. But hey, we love a happy ending. Keep the calls coming, Richmond! Who’s next?”

“A man from Chester is on line two. Caller, introduce yourself,” I said.

“My name is Sam, and I’m calling from Chester,” the caller said. His voice was deep and calm. “I had an experience with love at first sight that wasn’t so happy.”

Dev’s eyes widened in sympathy. “Oh no, Sam. What happened?”

Sam paused for a moment before he spoke again. “Well, I was walking to work one day last week when I saw this woman across the street. She was wearing a bright yellow dress and had the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. The moment our eyes met, I wanted to talk to her. But before I had a chance, a car ran a red light and hit her.”

Poor guy. “That must have been rough, Sam.”

Dev’s eyes widened. Then she silently took her index finger and drew it across her neck. It was our signal to move on to the next caller. I felt bad for the guy, but we were looking for funny stories.