Finding Kia: The Lost Girl Doulogy, #1

By Airicka Phoenix

The Beginning

Kia Valentines had always accepted the fact that she was a nerd, a nobody. It was a badge she wore with honor, until the day she saved Claudia DeLorenzo’s life and lost herself.

When offered the chance to shed her identity for a single night, Kia never believed it would change her life. It was one night. It meant nothing, or it shouldn't have. But that single night turned out to be her undoing when she finds passion in the arms of the one person she can never have.

Adam Chaves was more than just a gorgeous face, he made her laugh, but more importantly, when he looked at her, she felt like the most beautiful girl on earth. But Adam has no idea that Kia was the girl behind the mask and Kia has no intention of telling him. But a secret can only be kept if no one else knows about it. Claudia knows and she wants something Kia isn't willing to give in order to keep it.

Will Kia succumb? And just how far is Claudia willing to go to get what she wants?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Airicka Phoenix
• Release date: Jun 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781498917186

Airicka Phoenix

Airicka Phoenix is a multi genre author of over twenty-five bestselling novels starring strong female leads and sexy alpha heroes. She started her journey after never finding the type of books she wanted to read. Her love of tortured souls and forbidden romance carried her into writing her own hard-earned happiness. Currently, she lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her babies and can be found hard at work on her next project. For more about Airicka, visit her at AirickaPhoenix.com

Book preview

Also by Airicka Phoenix

Touch Saga

Touching Smoke (Touch Series, Book #1)

Touching Eternity (Touch Series, Book #1.5)

Sons of Judgment Series

Octavian’s Undoing (Sons of Judgment, Book #1)

Standalone

Games of Fire

Anthologies

Whispered Beginnings: A Clever Fiction Anthology

Midnight Surrender Anthology

Dedication

To everyone who has ever looked in the mirror and hated what they saw.

You are unique. You are beautiful.

You are you.

Acknowledgement

There is nothing I like better than the luxury and beauty of writing. I personally don’t think there is anything I enjoy doing more. As dreams go, writing is it for me. But no dream is ever accomplished without the support and dedication of your team and I won’t lie, I have the best freaking team on the planet. Hands down.

My Home Team—As always, for putting up with me. For loving me unconditionally. For supporting me, encouraging me and being my world. I love you guys with every fiber of my soul.

Kristy & Kimmie—Yes, I am the author of each book, but you are the soul. You are my motivation, my drive and my inspiration. You ladies keep me from giving up, giving in and plain simply sucking big time. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I don’t know what I did to deserve either of you, but I know I would be lost without you there to guide me. As guardian angels go, I won the damn lottery. I’m honored and blessed for your mere presence in my life.

Julia—Thank you for reading, rereading and then reading Finding Kia so many times I was sure you’d fly up and smack me over the head. Your input helped make every chapter shine. Thank you.

My Epic Street Team—If being incredible were ever to become an Olympic sport, you ladies would win gold every year without trying. Thank you for never failing to believe in me, for cheering me on through every new adventure.

My Stellar Readers—An author can write to their heart’s content. They could write book upon book upon book, but what good are words on paper without a reader to read them? You are the reason authors exist. Thank you for believing in me, for believing in my passion. I cherish each and every one of you more than I could possibly say.

Love all of you!

~Airicka

Chapter I

I Will Never Save Anyone!

The morning my parents sat me down and told me they were getting a divorce was probably the best day of my life. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my parents and it wasn’t as if they were a pair of raging lunatics who couldn’t even walk into the same room without popping eye vessels, but what they were was worse.

They were nice.

They were so nice, so disturbingly, sickeningly nice, I wanted to stab them both with forks just to get a reaction. They treated each other the way two strangers treated each other when they reached the supermarket doors at the same time, all smiles and giggles and oh no, you firsts! Ugh! If I had to sit through one more fake family dinner, I might have divorced them.

But in the end, commonsense prevailed and they split. Dad made the big sacrifice and moved out of the house he’d bought before he’d met and married Mom and created me. He stowed himself away in a tiny blink-and-you’d-miss-it flat over a Chinese restaurant that always smelled oddly of Italian food, and started dating a cheerleader named Dallas — the irony was not lost on me. Mom moved on as well and realized, after a stint through several nightclubs with her friends, that she liked women, and brought home Joanne. Small, peppy, very blonde, Joanne. It was like Mom woke up one morning and decided we needed a golden retriever. Truth be told, I liked Joanne. It was like having a big sister around. Being an only child it was actually kind of nice.

Now I was never one to cast judgment, not when both my parents were happy and divorced and moving on, but did they have to wait sixteen years to do it? My therapy bill was probably as long as I was tall and at six feet, I was pretty damn tall. All those repressed emotions couldn’t have been good for any of us.

Kia! Joanne poked her head into my bedroom. Are you up?

I was standing in the middle of my room, fully dressed in jeans and a bulky sweater. Nope. Sleepwalking again.

Joanne giggled. Mom wants you to hurry up, or you’ll be late. She paused, her dainty features wrinkling. You should add some blush. You look pale.

Then she was gone and I was left staring at my reflection in the oval mirror in the corner of my room. No amount of blush in the world had the power to make me beautiful. I was unfixable, like one of those old grandfather clocks that no longer ticked because someone had lost the winding key, but your mom kept it around because it had sentimental value, when in reality it was ugly as all hell. That was basically the story of my life.

I liked sweaters, big ones. Extra bonus points if it was fluffy. I was also abnormally tall for my age, which dwarfed most boys, making dating a bit awkward ... for me. The boys loved it. They got to stand eyelevel with my boobs. Now I wasn’t about to win any wet t-shirt contests, but the girls were pretty nice, if I did say so myself. My winning good looks and dazzling fashion flare, ended there.

At some point during conception, while I battled for the domination of The Egg against a thousand other microscopic brothers and sisters, something happened and I wound up with a bit more than a pinch of my father, a handsome bloke, I’ll confess, but a bloke nevertheless. So my face was on the square side with a jawline that was a bit too sharp. My nose was all right, but then there were my eyes which were brown. Nothing fancy like hazel, or melted honey, or whatever. They were brown. Period. Like mud, or bark, or ... well, you got the picture. My hair was auburn, cut short and choppy to my skinny shoulders with wispy bangs. Oh, and I had glasses. All in all, it wasn’t an overly attractive combination by modern standards, but I had no plans of running for Miss. Universe anytime soon. In fact, I liked me the way I was. It worked for me.

Mom was in the kitchen when I ventured downstairs, flipping pancakes while doing a very frightening rendition of Madonna’s Like a Virgin while using a batter spoon as a microphone. Joanne was bouncing around the island, waving her arms and doing this weird thing with her head. I was almost sure she was trying to rock out, but she could have also been having a stroke. I decided to stay close to the phone. Just in case.

Kia! Mom screamed, leaving her post at the stove to hurry over to me.

Oh. Dear. Lord. She wasn’t wearing pants. That therapy bill was looking pretty costly right about then let me tell you.

Mom, where’s your pants?

She waved away my question while looping an arm around my shoulders. Sing with me! she demanded, thrusting the spoon nearly straight up my nostril.

Right, because the world wasn’t suffering enough. Plus, as much as I loved Maddy, I could never take her and virgin in the same sentence seriously.

I have a better idea. I ducked out from beneath Mom’s arm. Why don’t I finish those pancakes and you find your pants. I swear, you would think she was drunk. But she wasn’t. That was the scary part. The whole prancing around in the kitchen in nothing but a t-shirt and lime green boyshorts ... totally normal. Mom pouted, handing over the batter spoon the way a five year old would pass over a chocolate bar they weren’t supposed to have. Then she wiggle-skipped out of the kitchen in a full out cabaret imitation that included arms in the air, hips swaying, legs kicking. People had to go to Vegas to see that stuff. I got a live performance every morning. Joanne followed behind like the caboose on a train. I really hoped that was some new dance move she was doing, because I was beginning to wonder if it was natural for one’s body to convulse like that.

The pancakes were finished and steaming on a plate by the time they made their way downstairs again. I pretended not to notice the happy flush on both their faces, because whether your mom was with a guy or a girl, some things were just better left unnoticed.

She kissed my cheek on her way to grab a plate. How did you sleep, sweetheart?

In my bed with my eyes closed, I replied smartly, earning an eye roll. What? You asked.

Always so literal, Mom muttered, tossing a stack of pancakes onto her plate. Do you have work after school?

Yeah, I’m helping close. I checked my watch. I better go, or I’ll miss my bus.

But you haven’t eaten! Mom called after me as I hurried to the designated bag area in the corner of the hallway. It was basically a chair where everyone dumped their bags. Joanne, who was a bag nut, ruled the chair with an iron fist. My defenseless backpack was shunned and sent to the floor underneath. Apparently the red and black didn’t match her system. Yeah, I don’t know what that means either.

I’ll grab something from the machines, I shouted over my shoulder as I snatched my jacket off the peg by the door. Love you! Bye!

I was out the door with the sounds of love ya ringing after me. My feet crunched on gravel as I sprinted for the bus stop at the end of the dirt road. Mayferd wasn’t an overly large town, population a little over five thousand, but almost everyone lived on the outskirts. We were a town of farmers. Except me. I didn’t farm. Thankfully, neither didn’t Mom. We were two people you did not want around sharp objects. She was an insurance saleswoman. I was a cashier at Taco-Taco. You guessed it, a taco stand, the only taco stand in Mayferd, which you would think should have made me a celebrity considering that every kid at Margaretson High ate there during lunch. But my uniform, a purple t-shirt and black pants, somehow managed to mysteriously conceal my identity from the world. It was like how Serena had nothing but a tiara to confuse the bad guys when she became Sailor Moon. As soon as I donned the snazzy Taco-Taco­ hat ... poof! I became Server Chick! So either I was really good at being invisible or

Reviews for Finding Kia

[KrystalMarie · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

best author ever!