Surrender to Passion

By Amy Spitzfaden, Victoria Spencer, Olena Kagui and Angela Breen

Four tales of excitement, discover, and passion.

Angela Breen

Victoria Spencer

Olena Kagui

Amy Spitzfaden

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amphibian Press
• Release date: Feb 12, 2019
• ISBN: 9781949693966

Amy Spitzfaden

Amy is a chick-lit and women’s fiction author from Temple, New Hampshire where she lives with her husband, Ravi. She won first prize in the 2013 Writers’ Voices Competition for her debut, Untold. She graduated with a literature and writing degree from Maharishi University of Management in 2012 and works as editor and social media manager at PSCS Consulting when not writing.

Book preview

Surrender to Passion

Four Contemporary Romance Tales

Amphibian Press LLC

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in these works are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

SURRENDER TO PASSION

Copyright © 2019 by Sara Voorhis

Soulmate Tango

Copyright © 2019 Marissa Frosch

Love as Blue as Hawaii

Copyright © 2019 Olena Kahujova

The Heartbreaks That Led Us Here

Copyright © 2019 Amy Spitzfaden

Making Peace

Copyright © 2019 by Sara Voorhis

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher at the address below.

Amphibian Press LLC

P. O. Box 190

West Peterborough, NH

03468

www.amphibianpressbooks.com

ISBN : 9780998333267

Printed in the U. S. A.

Contents

1. The Heartbreaks That Led Us Here

About the Author

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

2. Making Peace

About the Author

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

3. Love as Blue as Hawaii

About the Author

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

4. Soulmate Tango

About the Author

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Fingerprinted Hearts

Untold

Changing History

1. The Heartbreaks That Led Us Here

AMY SPITZFADEN

line art rose

About the Author

Amy Spitzfaden

White woman with short brow hair slight smile

Amy is a chick-lit and women’s fiction author from Temple, New Hampshire where she lives with her husband, Ravi. She won first prize in the 2013 Writers’ Voices Chelson Award for her debut, Untold.

She graduated with a literature and writing degree from Maharishi University of Management in 2012 and works as editor and social media manager at PSCS Consulting when not writing.

amyspitzfaden.com

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Chapter 1

The Heartbreaks That Led Us Here

Amber Loritz liked her first-date locations to reflect her hopes for the relationship. In the beginning, she chose sunlit parks full of greenery and families with small children and dogs. A few years in, she’d switched to moonlit beaches, which seemed sexy and tragic at once. Back then, there was nothing more beautiful than getting your heart broken. As time went on, her locations switched from romantic to sensible. She chose cute coffee shops for the men she felt might be a Good Option and trendy bars for the Bad Ideas. Now, she sat in an empty diner at nine o’clock on a Thursday night with neon arrows as nearly the sole light source.

The man she was waiting for was a Nobody. Oh, there was nothing wrong with him. He was handsome in the kind of way that sent her daydreaming as a teenager, all blond hair and earnest smile. Really, any past version of Amber would have been excited for a date with this man. She would have sent her friends pictures and waited for their reactions, then spent the whole next day breaking down the date moment by moment, desperate to see if they thought he liked her. Because what was better than being liked?

But who was he? How had she even ended up here? She never asked these questions before, because before, this would have seemed like magic. But Amber had learned that magic was manufactured. That she was only on a date with this man was because they were both looking. Both hoping, both projecting. He’ll do. She’ll do. At least to spend an evening with. So she’d chosen a diner she didn’t ever care to return to, with all the ambiance of a closed-down movie theater.

But at least he was handsome.

He was named Jeremy, and even though Amber felt certain she must have known a thousand Jeremys in her lifetime, right at this moment she couldn’t think of a single one.

The door of the diner opened, blowing in warm air from the street. She looked over and, despite herself, felt a jolt of surprise that this handsome man was looking around for her. You actually came? she thought as she put up a hand. He saw her, smiled, unwrapped his scarf (she did love when men wore scarves), and slid into the booth across from her.

He hadn’t complained when she suggested this time and location. Why hadn’t he? The diner was all the way outside of town, not near anything or anyone Amber knew of. He opened his menu and was looking at it carefully, as if whatever he chose would actually matter. But that was the point of choosing a diner. You knew what you were getting. There were no heady highs of reading new options, no anxiety when you chose something you weren’t sure you were going to like. She flipped open her menu again, running her gaze over the options to see if he saw something she’d missed. Was he more hopeful than she? Somehow, that didn’t seem fair.

Amber cleared her throat and closed the menu. So, you work in business consulting. How is that? The words turned her stomach. How much time had she spent asking strangers about their jobs?

But Jeremy looked up from his menu and smiled at her and said, Worth doing nine to five, not worth talking about after.

Amber’s surprise manifested as a laugh, which triggered the waitress to flit over.

Y’all ready to order?

Amber realized she hadn’t even thought about her food. She stared down at her plastic menu as Jeremy said, Tuna melt on rye, please.

She felt another burst of surprise, but caught this one before it led to another laugh. A tuna melt? You don’t think…? She trailed off, realizing she was about to say You don’t think we’ll kiss later?

Don’t think what? Jeremy was looking at her, eyebrows raised in question, the picture of innocence, except for something in his eye. She could suddenly imagine playfully slapping his shoulder while he broke the facade and burst out laughing, showing her he knew exactly what she had meant.

Amber dropped her eyes back down to her menu. It’s a little late in the day. Do you think the fish is still…?

We keep it fresh, the waitress said flatly.

I don’t eat fish. Amber’s face was burning now. I don’t know about these things. I’ll have a grilled cheese.

Their drinks were brought (a beer for him, hot tea for her), and Jeremy sat back in the booth, running his eyes over Amber curiously.

So, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?

The neon light above their head flickered, and Amber took a sip of her tea, feeling caught out. I’ve never heard anyone ask that seriously.

This isn’t your usual date spot?

Even in this horrible lighting, his brown eyes were bright. He was smiling at her, and she noticed he had the start of a five o’clock shadow. It was impressive he held up so well under fluorescents. She tipped her head down toward the table, trying not to think about how she looked under the flickering lights.

I just… A wave of exhaustion hit her, cresting in a yawn that stretched her whole face and made her eyes water. I’m tired.

Of this? He gestured to their setting.

Aren’t you? she asked. Something was breaking through their first-date formality, and she leaned toward him, glimpsing the possibility a real answer. All of this, every single time?

Well, he said, looking around, "it’s not usually this fancy."

I’m sorry, Amber said, letting out her second laugh of the evening. It’s just… I can’t do the same dates over and over again, you know?

I do know. But I’d like to know how you got here.

Same way as anybody, I guess.

Everybody has a different path to sitting in an all-night diner with a guy they barely know. But we do all end up here eventually.

She laughed her third laugh, and in the sound she heard the echo of a third date. She quickly closed her mouth.

I don’t know if I can tell you that, she said, spinning her teacup until the tea almost spilled over the sides.

Because the answer to his question, or at least the start of the story, was Marty.

Chapter 2

Marty

Nobody had mattered until Marty. Not really.

Marty slipped into her life through the kitchen door, walking in with her brother Joe after a basketball game. He’d tossed her a hey and she’d caught it and kept it. Some of her brother’s friends flirted with her (something that made Joe roll his eyes), but Marty looked. Not in a sneaky, hormone-fueled way, or in the open, lecherous way some of the older guys she knew did. No, he just looked, and when she looked back, he smiled.

Amber was a sucker for a smile.

They started talking, quietly at first, little sentences here and there on the sidelines of the show that was Joe. A comment, a laugh. A connection. But, at sixteen, Amber had been too young to call it that. She called it falling in love.

She’d been so amazed by the feeling, she rewrote her childhood dreams to all be about Marty. His dark hair was perfect. He was the perfect height - not too short at all, no matter what her friends said. She’d always wanted to be with an athlete. She only told her friends otherwise because she thought she couldn’t get one. What she and Marty had was real.

For their first date, she chose the old Italian restaurant in their town. He’d offered to take her somewhere else, somewhere out of town (he had a car!), but La Nuova Trattoria felt romantic while also like home. And, for the first time, Amber realized that home could be her future.

She remembered their first kiss more vividly than any other in her whole life. It wasn’t her first kiss ever (that was  clumsily executed outside a movie theater when she was fourteen), but it was the first time she felt that kisses could be magic. That there was a reason to press your lips against someone else’s. That it could make you feel bigger, brighter, and stronger than ever before.

Her only fear when he left for college was how much she would miss him.

She cleared her throat, remembering how many boys she’d called Not Marty in her head.

It’s really all timing, isn’t it? She shoved her tea out of the way in favor of her grilled cheese sandwich, which was being set in front of her. If we didn’t get messed up and then better at a relatively similar pace, we wouldn’t be on a date right now, would we?

So who should I thank for breaking your heart at the right time?

I’ll give you a list. This laugh, the fourth one, twisted her throat. She gave herself a moment to breathe, and then looked at Jeremy’s hands, salting his fries. They were nice hands, strong but with long fingers. Like her own. She’d never had little hands with little fingers, no matter how much she’d wanted them. Whose hands had Jeremy held, and why had he put them down?

Do you have a list? she asked.

Jeremy’s smile also didn’t feel right. Don’t smile when you’re not happy, she wanted to tell him. She wanted to reach over and grab his hand and make him promise not to fake another smile ever again. Instead, she waited for his answer.

There are a few names.

What was the first one?

Sasha.

That’s a pretty name. It’s… She trailed off, trying to conjure an image of a girl named Sasha who had broken Jeremy’s heart. Who had caused Jeremy to end up sitting across from her in this diner. It reminds me of winter.

And the first on your list?

How about I give you the second? she parried. His name was Rui.

Chapter 3

Rui

Amber had done a gap year. After Marty, college felt almost like a dirty word, and Amber wanted to run from academia. She spent six months working the register at a health food store, living at home with her parents, saving up barely enough money to jump on a plane right before Christmas. Right before Marty came home.

She landed in Lisbon and found an apartment outside the city in Estoril, taking a job on the stone walkway that ran alongside the river, all the way to their neighbor town. She cleaned dishes in the back, listening to Portuguese podcasts, trying to learn the language as fast as she could so she could take orders out front. Out where she could see the ocean.

The boy who washed dishes next to her was, to this day, one of the most beautiful people Amber had ever seen. Dark hair and eyes, and a soccer player’s body. He was bossy, arrogant, and romantic and plunged Amber into a dream world because no one really dated a guy like this. Not really.

Looking back, she was certain this was true. Her view of him was colored by the sand and the ocean, and romantic vacation films. At work, he stayed focused, working harder and faster than Amber, speaking rapid Portuguese that flew by her in bursts she could just understand. He talked around her, sometimes to her, but at work, he was a worker. After work, when the sun was lower and the shadows were longer, he’d jerk his head and bound toward the train station, leaving Amber just enough time to follow. Together they’d squeeze onto a train and she’d close her eyes and sway against him as they raced to Sintra, Porto, Algarve… Anywhere Rui could get them. She loved letting him take the lead, especially since he was choosing all the right places. Dramatic, romantic, and visits that only lasted the day.

He had a son, a little boy with big eyes named Martim. Martim watched Amber carefully, fist pressed to his mouth but refusing to suck his thumb, and had nodded at every question she asked him, even though the first day Rui had ruffled his son’s hair and said, He doesn’t speak English. When she tried to speak Portuguese to him, his fist dropped away from his mouth and his whole face lit up with mirth. He looked at his father when he laughed. Rui looked back down, smiling in the brightest way. Together they dazzled Amber and, even though she was too young and too marriage-averse to start thinking of herself as a step, she did let herself imagine they were a family. A pretend one. A family just for now.

She spent four months adventuring with him, and then it was time to go home. They didn’t stay in touch because for all the passionate phrases and colored candles, theirs wasn’t the romance you worked for. It wasn’t the one where you looked at the time zone venn diagram and talked for an hour before one of you had to sleep, or head to work. She could imagine Rui putting in that work for someone-he was determined, and she knew when he was in love, real love, he would do anything it took to make it work - but she wasn’t his person. She was the American girl with the dishwashing job who saw his home country as an adventure and allowed him to do the same while he saved up for something greater.

She’d known this from the start. But that hadn’t kept her heart from breaking as the plane rose off the tarmac.

Rui, Jeremy repeated. And what happened to him?

Only good things, I hope, said Amber, stirring some sugar into her iced tea. He had a magic about him that could make things happen. I like to think he’s somewhere wonderful right now.

Not in an empty diner. Please don’t be in an empty diner, Rui.

And where is Sasha? she asked Jeremy.

In Massachusetts. I saw a picture of her breakfast this morning. Facebook kind of takes the magic out of it, don’t you think?

She knew what he meant. It was why she never found Rui online, because she didn’t want to see pictures of his soccer team, or have the memory of his voice tarnished with bad typing. She wanted him to always be smiling at her in her mind, not at a camera. She’d learned that after friending Marty.