The sequel to Liv's Existence
Love and Loss.
Two tiny words, each with their own powerful impact. They can both happen at any given moment and both can forever change your soul. It’s how you allow it to change you that matters. The hard part is finding a balance when the loss gets overwhelming. How do you do that when everyone you thought you couldn’t live without leaves you?
Loss is inevitable. I’ve had enough in my life to know that much. Now I’ve just got to figure out how to survive it.
Ages 18+ due to adult situations and violence. Some situations may be difficult for some readers.
Releasing May 14, 2014
Amazon
Liv's Existence http://myBook.to/LivsExistence
Abby's Survival http://myBook.to/AbbysSurvival
The Complete Liv Series http://myBook.to/TheCompleteLivSeries
&N
Abby's Survival Not live yet
The Complete Liv Series http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-liv-series-bl-mooney/1119469875?ean=2940149552863&itm=1&usri=2940149552863
iTunes
Abby's Survival https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/abbys-survival/id874735797?mt=11
The Complete Liv Series https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/complete-liv-series-livs-existence/id874735812?mt=11
Liv's Existence + Abby's Survival Bundle $3.99
Available May 14, 2014
After Hannah had finally left me alone, I took another nap. If all I was going to do was sleep, I could’ve done that at home. I sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. I would’ve liked to stay awake for at least two hours once. Slowly opening my eyes to adjust to the sunlight, I saw someone I never expected to see: my father. “You have exactly two minutes, and don’t make me regret my generosity.”
“You’re beautiful. Travis said you were okay, but I had to see for myself.” He seemed to have tears in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, little girl.”
I cringed at the familiar nickname he called me when I used to be innocent in his eyes. I looked out the window. “I’m not a little girl anymore and certainly not yours.”
“You’re right, and I’m sorry, Abigail. I want to get to know you again.”
I looked back at him, giving him the coldest stare I could muster up. “You never really knew me at all, so ‘again’ isn’t really an option, is it?”
“Right again. I completely agree—I never knew you. I want to change that now. You’re my daughter, and I love you. I want very much to get to know you.”
“What about what I wanted? I needed supportive parents when I was growing up.”
“Your mother—”
“Don’t lay the blame all on her. You could’ve changed any number of things if you had wanted to—”
“I was wrong a lot. I want to make amends. It’s too late for me to make things right between your mother and you, but it isn’t too late for me. I’m still here.”
“Your two minutes are up, and frankly, I’ve heard nothing to make me want to extend the time.”
“I know you didn’t have relations with Steve.”
I closed my eyes as I heard it from the man himself that he finally believed I hadn’t slept with Steve, but it didn’t make me feel any better. I opened my eyes after a minute, when I was sure my composure was back, and I just looked at my father. “It’s a little late now, don’t you think?”
“I truly am sorry for not believing you. I’m sorry for whatever pain you’ve been through because of my ignorance. I’m proud of the woman you’ve become. Please, if you could find it in your heart to forgive a crazy old man—”
“You told me I left my heart under the bleachers. You told me I left everything good and pure under those goddamn bleachers!” I start yelling, not caring who could hear me. “You told me I would never find a man to love me, and you were wrong.” I took a deep breath to continue yelling. “What you don’t know is I never went under the fucking bleachers! And I do have a man who loves me. I have a man who has more man in his little pinky than you have in your entire body. That little girl you snubbed and kicked shit on was someone to be proud of, too. You don’t get to be a part of a life you had no interest in helping become the woman you are supposedly proud of today. Get out!” I pointed to the door.
My father looked older by the time I was done yelling at him. He walked over to the door and placed his hand on the doorknob. Without turning back to me, he started talking. “I know you won’t believe me, but I love you very much. You will always be my little girl, and I hope you find it in your heart—that I know you do have—to forgive me. If you want to talk me, Travis knows how to get in touch.” He walked out.
I had just gotten up from a nap, and I wanted nothing more than to take another nap to forget my father was ever in that room. I wanted to forget the look on his face when I yelled at him, and I wanted to forget the old wounds he had just reopened. I heard the door open as I tried to quiet my sobs, but it was no use. Whoever had just walked in was going to have to wait until I was finished.
“Abby, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.” Travis put his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll never bring him around again.”
B.L. Mooney started writing when the voices and storylines in her head ran out of room. They were getting too cramped and neither B.L. nor the characters could take it anymore, so she did the only thing she could do--she made room. She always knew she wanted to write, but vowed to make time for it later. Now that she's made time for writing, most everything else falls to the wayside. That seems to suit the characters that keep popping up just fine.
B.L. lives in the Midwest and her other talents include in-demand cookies, a very dry sense of humor, and stealth eavesdropping. Some mannerisms, attitudes, or twists come from random sentences picked up while passing by strangers. So speak up the next time you have something to gossip about. You never know, it may just end up on the pages of the next book you read.
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