Together Head and Heart Saga - Coming of Age Romance (Boxed Set)
49 pages

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49 pages

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Book 1: "Melisa hasn't seen her father since he moved to England. She hasn't wanted to. He broke her mother’s heart and left them to pick up the pieces of their fractured lives. He’s getting married, though, and he’s insisting that she’s there for his special day. Melisa is sure that the nightmare will begin from the moment she gets on the plane. She doesn't even like flying. Things aren't quite as dark as they seem, though, when the hottest guy she’s ever seen sits down next to her with a book in his hand. They've got ten hours before they land. They're perfect strangers. They're taking off on an unplanned adventure together, but when turbulence strikes will they find themselves suffering through a crash landing?" Book 2: "Melisa had refused to accept Claire because of what she did. She knowingly had an affair with a married man. She had knowingly opened a weakness in Melisa’s family and she tore them apart. How could Melisa forgive her for that? How could she forgive her for doing something which was so clearly wrong? Melisa’s stance gets put to the test, though, when she finds out that her crush from the plane has a girlfriend and that he seems pretty reluctant to change that." Book 3: "Lisa gave Calvin a choice and he made it. It’s just, when she gave him the choice to make, she’d thought he would pick the right one. He didn’t, though. He didn’t make the right choice. He didn’t pick her. He picked Penelope instead. When Lisa decides to cut her trip short, she’s sure that it’s the right thing to do. She’s desperate to get away from Calvin and she knows that she can’t do that until she’s put the trip behind her. When she gets on the plane home, though, she finds herself trapped with the very things that she has been trying to run from."



Publié par
Date de parution 15 février 2017
Nombre de lectures 2
EAN13 9781681851105
Langue English
Poids de l'ouvrage 2 Mo

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Table of Contents
Title Page
Discover More Books By Third Cousins
Together Head and Heart
A Synopsis...
Inspiring Words
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
A Synopsis...
Inspiring Words
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
A Synopsis...
Inspiring Words
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Together Head and Heart Saga
Boxed Set
Coming of Age Romance
By: Paula Breen & Third Cousins
Join the Free Membership and Get Books For Free From This and Other Authors at I JUST READ.IT
Together Head and Heart
How it Started
Book 1
Coming of Age Romance
By: Paula Breen & Third Cousins
Melisa hasn’t seen her father since he moved to England. She hasn’t wanted to. He broke her mother’s heart and left them to pick up the pieces of their fractured lives. He’s getting married, though, and he’s insisting that she’s there for his special day.
Melisa is sure that the nightmare will begin from the moment she gets on the plane. She doesn’t even like flying. Things aren’t quite as dark as they seem, though, when the hottest guy she’s ever seen sits down next to her with a book in his hand.
They’ve got ten hours before they land. They’re perfect strangers. They’re taking off on an unplanned adventure together, but when turbulence strikes will they find themselves suffering through a crash landing?
“My family is my strength and my weakness.

- Aishwarya Rai Bachchan

Have you ever been in a position where you really want to do something, but you know that if you do it, then you’re going to have to give up something that makes you the person you are? I was in that position. I was in that position on the last day of school, before summer break, well, broke.
My body was buzzing. I was standing on the edge of an event which would mark my transition from being a kid to me being an adult.
The hours trickled by faster than I had expected. The general law of time is that it passes much more quickly when you are having fun, but I learned that day that the law isn’t always strictly observed. The truth is, sometimes time passes quickly because you don’t want it to, and sometimes it passes quickly because you’re trying desperately to stop it.
This was one of those times. The harder I tried to hold onto the passing seconds, the faster they seemed to slip between my fingers until the school bell rang shrilly, marking the end of the day and the beginning of my long night to come.
I walked slowly through the hallways that had become familiar to me. It seemed sad that I wouldn’t be returning to them the next year. I would be going somewhere new. I would be starting college and moving on with my life.
I didn’t have time to do everything I’d always planned to do on my last day. I’d always thought that I’d walk around the building, checking out each and every room for the last time. I always thought that I’d sit by the old pond and watch the frogs bouncing around their hunting grounds for one last time, but I couldn’t. My mom was waiting outside for me. I could already feel her impatience growing, even though I wasn’t anywhere near the entrance.
My mom wasn’t the kind of woman you kept waiting. She was the kind of woman who ran to a schedule and you either kept up with her or you fell behind. I headed out the front doors and turned one last time to look at my school, before I walked over to my mom’s car and pulled open the passenger door.
“You know your flight leaves in six hours,” she scolded me.
“Mom, school has just finished,” I said as I threw my beaten, dirty rucksack to the floor in front of me.
My mom glanced over at me, as she pulled out from the pickup area and into the road. I could feel her carefully inspecting me. I shifted.
“You’re going to need to change before you set off,” she told me in a matter-of-fact way. “Your dad will expect you to be looking smart when you touch down in England.”
My mom’s stiff expression faltered slightly over the mention of my father. I knew that his impending wedding was getting to her. I knew that, even though she wouldn’t admit it, she was hurting inside.
I looked down at my oversized shirt and tight, black skinny jeans. There was nothing wrong with my clothes. I was only getting on a plane. What was she expecting?
“To be honest, I was just going to travel in something comfy,” I said quickly to keep her from suggesting outfits out of the large and mostly unused collection of clothes which she had picked out for me, or for some stranger who was about my size, over the past year or so.
She sighed. “I don’t want your father thinking that it’s on me,” she said, as she pulled up at the lights and waited for them to change.
“Mom, I’m eighteen years old. I think dad knows that I pick out my own clothes.”
She didn’t say anything. The light turned green and she pulled away from the line of cars behind her. “Have you packed everything that you need?” Her eyebrows pulled together in a fretful way and I could see the thousands of other tiny details that her mind was micromanaging.
“I packed last week.”
“Yes, but did you pack everything?” she emphasized the word everything, as though perhaps I hadn’t quite understood it before.
I looked at her with a hard stare to attract her attention. She glanced over at me and then I rolled my eyes in an overly dramatic way. She gave me a mechanical smile.
“If I don’t have everything, then it’s my own problem, isn’t it?” I said. “Stop worrying, mom, I’m going to be fine.”
She nodded quietly and I noticed her grip on the steering wheel softened a little, so that the white in her knuckles starting to drop back to pink. “It’s just,” she started slowly, “well, I know that you’re moving away to college in a few months and I know that I can trust you. But this is different. It’s just a scary thought for a mom to know her baby is going to a different country on her own.”
“I’m not a baby.”
“Maybe not to the world, but you’re always going to be my baby,” she said and I cringed. She smiled at my reaction and turned the car into our driveway. “I know you don’t get it now, but you will one day,” she said in an all-knowing way.
“When I have my own kids, right?”
The car came to a stop and I stepped out. The sun had been shining brightly all day and it was pretty hot. The grass on our lawn, and on the lawns all down our street, was turning a dead brown color because of the drought. There was a watering ban, so the lawns were turning to powder, but the trees were still full of leafy green leaves. They rustled in the slight breeze, as if they could care less about what the grass was suffering, as I walked over to my front porch and into the home I’d been born in.
“We don’t have long, so go and get your bags and we’ll set off to the airport,” my mom said as she walked in and put her keys down in the small glass dish which was next to the front door.
“You know you don’t actually have to be there four hours before the flight, right?” I said, because she seemed to think that all guidelines had to be followed to the letter.
“It’s always better to be early rather than late,” she said for what must have been the millionth time.
“If you say so,” I shrugged, because I wasn’t and had never been overly convinced by the statement. I knew that if it was her traveling, she’d probably be at the gate a day early, just in case, but my take on it was that if somebody was going to be late, then it might as well be me. At least that way I wouldn’t be waiting around because I’d turned up hours early.

The airport was pretty busy. The line for my flight almost reached the front doors and I realized pretty quickly that my mom might have been right about getting there early.
I stopped and started a hundred times, moving forward by baby steps and becoming very familiar with the backs and the suitcases of the group of people right ahead of me. I could hear my mom orating at me over the buzz of steady conversation around us, but I wasn’t really listening.
I knew that once I reached the front of the line that we’d have to say our goodbyes. I knew the next time that I’d see one of my parents would be on the other side of the flight that I was about to take. And it would be my dad. I was going to see my dad, the man who had left my mom and had decided to marry a woman who was closer to my age than his own.
The endless line eventually pushed me to the front and I found myself handing over my ticket and passport to a plucky woman with bright green eyes and a cherry red smile. “Well, we do hope that you enjoy your flight today,” she said cheerfully as she passed the papers back to me. “You’ll be departing from gate seven, but you have some time to check out the duty-free area before you need to worry about that.”
I thanked her and pulled my carry-on suitcase behind me to the doors, which all the travelers had been disappearing behind. That’s where I stopped for the good-bye with my mom.
“I guess I’ll see you in a week,” I said, suddenly awkward. I could see that she wanted to hug me. I could see the nervous look in her eyes over leaving her baby at the airport. I opened my arms and hugged her first, so that she knew everything was going to be okay.
“Call me when you land?” she asked, when she pulled away from my embrace and secretively wiped away a tear from her eyes.
I nodded. “As soon as I can turn on my cell.”
I walked through the door, leaving my mom behind. My suitcase had started to squeak as I pulled it behind me and I decided that I’d head straight for my gate even though I had hours before boarding was due to start. It seemed that everybody had the same idea as me, because there wasn’t a chair free in the waiting area beside the gate, so I laid out my suitcase and sat down on top of it.
After a while of sitting and doing nothing, I decided to pull out my sketchbook from the front of my bag, so I could at least keep my hands busy. I looked at the scene in front of me and then I started to sketch the woman who was sitting three seats down from the end of the row. I don’t know why I picked her. There were at least fifty people to choose from, and she had this wild, curly hair, which I was sure would be impossible to translate into graphite, but I picked her and I got started.
I slipped into a timeless time when it was just me, the pencil, the paper, and the glances I snuck at my subject. And then a loud, shrill voice pulled me from my concentration to tell me that my flight would be boarding soon.
I looked back down at what had started off, as a blank sheet of paper. The woman sitting three seats down was also sitting on in my sketchbook now. I’d managed to capture the mild irritation on her face, which wasn’t expressed in a frown so much as a slump in her perfect pruned eyebrows.
I put my pad away and stood up so that I could stretch my legs one last time, before the flight. I’d looked online when my dad had called telling me that I was coming over. It was going to be at least a ten hour flight, but apparently that could vary depending on the weather we had to fly through.
A perky-looking male flight attendant stepped behind a small podium next to the door that led out to the plane. His suit was crisp, unwrinkled and had clearly been put on only minutes before his arrival. “If you’d all like to step forward, please,” he said cheerfully to the fifty-plus of us who had been waiting.
I pulled my suitcase quickly over to the desk and found myself only third in line to get on. I handed my ticket and passport over to the flight attendant who checked them with a quick glance over, before gesturing for me to go through the door.
I sighed with relief as I walked through it. I’m not sure what I’d been expecting to happen, but I was glad that it hadn’t.
The tunnel down to the plane seemed longer than it needed to be. I got to the plane in one piece, though, and the processed air-too clean, too dry-hit me in the face as I walked through the small portal like door and into the metal tube, which I was entrusting with my life.
I looked at the numbers written above the rows of seats. I was sitting in seat 45c. I walked through first class and down through the decades to row 45. Even though I had been nearly at the front of the line there were a lot of people already stowing things in the bins above their seats and sticking their butts out into the aisle while they did whatever they had to do down low.
I found an overhead bin and hoisted my suitcase into it. This was not the easiest job ever, as I am not the tallest girl you ever met, but I was not going to ask anybody for help. And it turned out I could do it if I went right up on tiptoe. This just left me with a shoulder bag that was too scrungy to calla purse, and I slung it under the seat ahead of mine. Then I slid over to my window seat, sat down, and figured out the seat belt.
I looked out at the gray runway and at the other planes which were getting ready to set off to who knows where. Men were strolling around among the planes like the keepers at the elephant house. I could not really figure out what they were doing, but they seemed quite relaxed about it. Of course, they would be: if this plane crashed, they wouldn’t be on it, so what did they have to worry about?
A shuffling behind me caught my attention and I turned to see who I would be sitting next to for the next thousand hours. I’d been hoping the seat would not be filled, and that I would be spared sitting thigh to thigh with some middle-aged, balding man with personal hygiene issues.
But he wasn’t a middle-aged man with person hygiene issues. He was a man. Oh, yes. Something tingled inside me as soon as I formed the thought he’s a man in my brain. He was maybe a year or two older than me, with strong cheekbones and a dimple in his chin that made my little finger itch, in the hopes resting in it.
“Hey,” he said to me, when he’d finished pushing his bag into the overhead locker and caught me staring at him.
Shit. My cheeks started to burn red and I dropped my eyes to the floor. “Hey,” I said back in a strangled voice.
I wanted the world to split in two and for me and solely me to fall down into the center of it. I heard his body moving closer and then his aftershave hit me as he sat down in the seat beside me. Shit. He smelt good. He smelled so good that I wanted to take the deepest breath I’d ever taken and then I wanted to hold onto that air forever. That probably wasn’t the best idea I’d ever had.
“You going home or are you visiting?” he asked me; because clearly he was enjoying the inhuman amount of discomfort I was feeling. Then again, maybe he was just trying to make conversation, I couldn’t be sure. I couldn’t look at him to see whether it was pity or curiosity in his eyes.
“Visiting,” I choked out without moving my eyes away from the dried up piece of popcorn on the floor. It had clearly been missed by the cleaners on more than one occasion. “You?”
“Visiting, I guess,” he said and I felt his arms rising up above his head, before a slapping sound told me that he’d brought them down to his legs. “I mean, my mom lives in England and I go over whenever I get the chance, so I kind of live there, too.”
Did that mean I could consider myself a resident of England now, too? No, it probably didn’t. He said that he went over to see his mom whenever he could. I didn’t go to visit my dad. In fact, if it wasn’t for the fact that he’d practically forced me to come over for the wedding, I probably wouldn’t be visiting him at all.
“Is this your first time?” he asked, as the plane started to slowly fill up with people.
I nodded. “My dad moved over there and he’s getting married.”
“Is that a good or bad thing?” he asked.
I found myself glancing up at him. He looked curious. He looked at ease with the conversation, as though he was used to talking to strange girls all the time and it wasn’t something that daunted him in the slightest.
I wondered whether I should tell him the truth. I wondered how the truth would make me sound to him. “Both.”
He nodded. “I get that,” he stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankle before turning to me. His eyes met mine. Shit. They were brown with small flecks of gold, kind of like honey, but deeper and sweeter.
“When my mom and dad divorced it was because dad was having an affair with his secretary. It sucked hard. My mom was upset all the time, my dad didn’t seem to care, but I guess as time went on it got better. My mom moved on. She’s a lot happier with this new guy, so I guess everything worked out in the end.”
“My dad’s marrying the woman he left my mom for. He moved to another country to be with this woman and now he’s kind of forcing me to go to the wedding.”
“Forcing you?”
I shrugged. A voice broke through the speaker system and I turned my attention to the safety message it was playing. My eyes caught movement out of the window and I realized that we were about to take off. I tried not to think about the racing feeling of the ground melting away below me, but my heart was racing and my pulse felt as though it might force my veins to explode.
We bounced. We bounced once and then we bounced again, as the plane tried to get enough air underneath its wings to take us up into the sky. I closed my eyes. I wasn’t sure when it was, but I knew there was a point of no return when a plane took off. It was a point where if anything went wrong, then it would be too late to just stop and sort out the problem.
My whole body felt tense, as the bouncing stopped and my stomach flipped. I reached out my hand, so that I could feel something solid beneath it, and jumped when I realized that I’d grabbed hold of the hand of the guy who was sitting next to me. An electric shock ran through me. “Sorry,” I said quickly, as I pulled my hand away and smacked myself in the chest.
He grinned. I could tell that he was enjoying the flustered look on my face. “It’s all good.”
I looked out of the window and saw the ground blurring away beneath me.

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