Remember Me (Prequel) Fueling The Flames Of His Obsession

By Gracie-Mae Harding

 

Maria's life seemed perfect on the surface, but beneath the façade, a dark truth lurked. Her friends were loyal, her parents were loving, and her boyfriend was devoted, but one of these realities was about to shatter her world.
When tragedy strikes, Maria's life takes a sharp turn, and she finds herself trapped in a web of uncertainty and fear. Her perfect life is nothing but a mirage, and she must face the harsh reality of her situation.

Peter, on the other hand, has always been able to adapt to new situations. With her parents' constant traveling, he never had a chance to settle down and make lasting connections. However, his charming personality and easygoing nature make him friends wherever he goes. But when his little sister falls victim to a heinous crime, Peter's world is turned upside down. He'll stop at nothing to find justice for his sister, even if it means crossing paths with Maria and facing his own demons.

As their worlds collide, Maria and Peter must confront their most destructive nightmares and fight for what's right. Will they overcome their own battles and find solace in each other? Or will their demons consume them, changing their lives forever? The stakes are high, the tension is palpable, and the outcome is anything but certain in this gripping tale of love and loss.

Remember Me (Prequel): is a Short Story for the forthcoming 5 book series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gracie-Mae Harding
• Release date: Apr 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223923800

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Remember Me Book Cover

Remember me

Prequel

Gracie-Mae Harding

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Copyright And Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication / use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Copyright © 2023 Gracie-Mae Harding.

All rights reserved.

For more information: gracie-mae.com

Table Of Contents

Chapter 1 – Maria

Chapter 2 – Peter

Chapter 3 – Maria

Chapter 4 – Peter

Chapter 5 – Maria

Chapter 6 – Peter

Chapter 7 – Maria

Chapter  8 – Peter

Chapter 9 – Maria

Chapter 10 – Peter

Chapter 11 – Maria

Chapter 12 – Peter

Chapter 13 – Maria

Chapter 14 – Peter

Chapter 15 – Maria

Chapter 16 – Peter

Chapter 17 : Maria

Chapter 18 – Peter

Chapter 19 – Maria

Chapter 20 – Peter

Chapter 21 – Maria

Book 1, Chapter 1 Excerpt Maria

About The Author

Other Books By The Author

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Chapter 1 – Maria

The rain beat against the windowpane—a symphony of water and thunder that sang to my soul. I couldn’t help but feel a pull towards the wildness of the storm despite the voice of caution in my head. Don’t do it, Maria, it whispered. You know it’s wrong, and your mother would be furious if she found out.

But the storm called to me, tempting me with its untamed beauty. I couldn’t resist. I turned my gaze from the window to the door, anticipating the knock that would signal my fate.

Three soft taps echoed through my bedroom, followed by the slow turn of the doorknob. And then at last, my mother’s voice, gentle and concerned.

Hey, sweetie.

I knew that I shouldn’t give in to the storm’s pull, and that it would only lead to heartache. But in that moment, I couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement as I imagined what lay ahead. I would have to tread carefully, but perhaps, just perhaps, I could have my cake and eat it too.

My mother, Grace Hidaka, was a vision of beauty, even in the simplest of attire. She stood before me in a thick cream sweater dress, her hair perfectly curled and cascading in soft waves down her shoulders. Her makeup was understated yet impeccable, highlighting her natural radiance. At just a year shy of her 50th birthday, she could pass for a woman a decade younger, a fact that had once been a curse during her dating years but now was a blessing.

Asian people tend to look younger than they are, she would often say with a shrug, but I knew it was more than just genetics at play. My mother exuded a youthful energy and a timeless grace that was all her own.

My father, Kent James, was a stark contrast to my mother’s delicate beauty. Standing at six feet tall with light brown hair and eyes, his paleness was a constant source of amusement in our family. But despite the differences in their appearances, my parents were united in their love for one another.

I, myself, took after my father in appearance, inheriting his tall frame, light brown hair and straight nose. But there was one aspect of my mother that I was grateful to have inherited: her smile. My father often remarked on how her smile could light up a room, like candles on a birthday cake, and it was a trait I was proud to call my own.

My mother, was a woman of purpose, and her work as a counselor at Wellstone Community College in Brooklyn was a testament to that. She could have taken a higher-paying job at NYU, but she felt that the students at the community college needed her more, and so she made the choice to take the pay cut that came with it. My father saw the sacrifice she was making, but he knew that once Mom made a decision, her mind was set. She was committed to making a difference in the lives of those who needed her most, and for her, there was no greater calling.

But it wasn’t just her physical appearance that made my mother so captivating. It was her undeniable warmth and kindness that drew people in, and made her a successful therapist. My mother’s smile was contagious, and her inner light shone just as brightly as her outer beauty.

I couldn’t say for certain whether the students at Wellstone Community College needed my mother’s guidance more than those at NYU, but I knew one thing for sure—they had some intriguing stories to tell. And it was this thought that filled me with a creeping sense of guilt.

Hey Mom, this weather is amazing, isn’t it? I asked, trying to sound casual, though my heart was pounding in my chest.

Many people wondered what it was like having a mother who was a therapist, and my answer was always the same: Terrifying.

She didn’t respond right away, and in that moment of silence, I felt as though the weight of my guilt might crush me. Did she know? Was this the day I would be caught?

But then she smiled, You’re the only person I know who enjoys gloomy and stormy weather. It’s what makes you so cute. She walked over to me and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. I have a call in twenty minutes, but after that, how about we grab some shabu at Slice?

And just like that, the weight lifted, and I could breathe again. But the guilt remained, a constant reminder to tread carefully.

Our little apartment building was far from grand, with its creaky floorboards, lack of air conditioning, and the damp smell that seemed to linger no matter how often we cleaned. The windows were cracked, letting in the bitter winter air, and the neighbors above us had a penchant for playing fetch with their German Shepherd in