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Loving You by Jessica Tilles
Sixteen years ago, Julian knew he would marry Grace the first day they met. He imagined living and loving his Gracie forever, never anticipating the unexpected would occur. Now, Julian’s struggle to come to terms with the inevitable battle of losing the love of his life pushes them both beyond physical and emotional pain.
Loving You is a gut-wrenching story of unconditional love that shows how one can go beyond living for the moment to enable a deeper value of an innate love beyond the surface.
Read Chapter 1 AND Pre-order your copy today at: http://jessicatilles.com/loving-you
EXCERPT: Loving You by Jessica Tilles
The loud, beeping alarm clock jarred Julian Winters out of a peaceful slumber, as he smacked the off button. Waking up was no longer a pleasure. Rolling over onto his back, he blinked, closed his eyes, and blinked again. Streaks of sunlight penetrated the window, blinding him. He rose up, dragged his feet off the bed, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his knuckles. He stretched his arms above his head, arched his back, and yawned. He looked over his shoulder, closed his eyes, and inhaled. He could still smell Moonlight Path, her favorite Bath & Body Works fragrance. He missed her so, as he rested his elbows on his knees and cradled his head in his hands. His throat tightened, nostrils burned, and eyes welled, a feeling to which he had become accustomed. Squeezing his head, he raised it as his fingertips dragged down his face, caressing his chin. He rolled his eyes upward.
I don’t understand why any of this is happening, Julian thought, massaging the tension from the back of his neck. He remembered the words his mother spoke to him as a young boy whenever he was overwhelmed by impatience. “Not everything is meant for you to understand, son. When God is ready to tell you, He will. You must have patience.”
“I guess He’s not ready and I’m running out of patience,” he mumbled.
Julian stood and arched his back. With his hands on his hips, he stretched from side to side, a ritual he performed every morning. He padded his bare feet across the room, into the master bathroom, and into the water closet. He didn’t close the door before aiming for the commode, but she was not there to gripe. He missed that, too. He turned on the shower. As he pulled his T-shirt over his head, the landline rang. In a swift motion, he dropped the shirt to the floor and rushed into the bedroom, rounding the bed to the nightstand to answer the phone. Read the rest of this entry »