Awake: Awake Series, #1

By Ashleigh Giannoccaro

"Maybe next time I kiss you, you'll be awake." 

When a handsome man wlaks into her life, Ivy falls hard. He quickly fills her draems at night, and her thoughts during the day. But, when dreams and reality blur, is a dangerous grey area. 

Kian can't sleep at night, but watching Ivy as she slumbers has become his addiction -- even before he met her. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.Giannoccaro
• Release date: Jan 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386514060

Book preview

Introduction

AWAKE is book one of three, in a romantic suspense/thriller serial. These need to be read in order, may contain disturbing themes, and some trigger subjects.

Chapter One

MONDAY NIGHT

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I hope you don’t mind, but I let myself in, I had a key — well I found a key and used it. The door makes a squealing sound when it opens, don’t worry, I’ll oil the hinges for you tomorrow while you’re at work. It won’t take long, I promise. I’ll be in and out, you won’t even know I was here.

I talk to her inside my head, she left her laptop on, and her half finished glass of wine has a pink lipstick stain on the brim. Pink and orange sticky notes are stuck to every part of the table and around the screen of the computer. Touching the trackpad, I take a seat where she was sitting on the suede sofa, it’s soft and silent. The screen flickers on and leaves her whole world open to me, photos, Facebook, Instagram even her bank statements are open. It’s like every tab of her life is there tempting me, just one click away. The temptations, there are so many in here, but this will be the quietest so I start by opening her Facebook page and scrolling through her posts, pictures and friends. You can learn a lot from who a person blocks on social media, and she has only one on her list.

What did Maxwell C. Stone do to deserve that block? He looks like a good guy.

He’s in some of her old photographs, holding hands, hugging, cheek kisses and other pathetic selfies. I’m glad to see her need to photograph her own face has died since then, selfies are such a vile habit. I pick up her glass and sip the wine she didn’t finish, the rich Merlot slides smoothly down my throat. She has good taste in wine. The perfect pout of her lips is outlined on the glass, the pink of her lipstick remains there, leaving a piece of her behind. I lick it off, tasting her. It’s waxy but sweet, and melts on my tongue with the next sip of wine. Moving on from Facebook, I look at all the other open tabs and documents on her computer. Her calendar pops up with a reminder, look how organized she is. Every detail of every day outlined down to the last five minutes. An alarm is set for eleven that says ‘take your sleeping pill and go to bed’ how efficient. I wonder why she needs that pill, her life seems so perfect. My attention skips from the screen to the Post-it notes she has tacked on to everything. Names, dates, numbers, and appointments already in the calendar. The green ones though -- they’re different.

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Don’t call him.

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He’s not worth it.

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You deserve better Ivy!

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He smelled like sandalwood and leather

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His hair was