Love Lost Adventure: The Lie: Love Lost Adventure Series, #1

By Roseann Gargiulo

Surrounded by the whiteness of the blizzard's snow, Theodora Hayes was determined to rekindle a flame she had walked away from many years ago—but can one ever truly go back? Teddy didn't give it a second thought. Passion drove her need. Cole was the love of her life, and nothing was going to keep her from finding him... except maybe danger, murder, and yes, love—and its wicked dark past.

 

Roseann Gargiulo's 'Love Lost Adventure: The Lie' is a thrilling blend of romance and suspense, transporting readers across time from the Civil War era to the 1990s. The story of Theodora Hayes's relentless quest for love, entwined with a murder mystery, is beautifully crafted with rich characters and unexpected twists. Gargiulo masterfully weaves historical elements into a contemporary setting, creating a captivating tale. A must-read for those who enjoy a complex, emotive narrative with a strong, passionate protagonist. 

 

This deft command of emotional vulnerability is down to the intricacies of the dialogue and narrative presentation, which allows us a close look at Teddy and those around her when her emotions are put to the test. The novel keeps you engaged and always guessing at what may happen next as it navigates through mishaps, human connections, and a cast of fascinating ensemble characters. Overall, Love Lost Adventure: The Lie is a beautifully written tale that explores the enduring power of love and the mysteries of the human heart. I would highly recommend it as a must-read for those who enjoy a blend of historical fiction, romance, and adventure, all wrapped up in a compelling, emotive narrative.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Imagine Media Concepts
• Release date: Jan 17, 2024
• ISBN: 9798987535417

Book preview

Copyright

Love Lost Adventure — The Lie

Copyright © 2023 by Roseann Gargiulo. All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Imagine Media Concepts.

Audiobook ISBN: 979-8-9875354-0-0

Ebook ISBN: 979-8-9875354-1-7

Hardcover ISBN: 979-8-9875354-2-4

Paperback ISBN: 979-8-9875354-3-1

Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with the copyright laws by not reproducing or distributing this book without permission. Making or distributing electronic copies of this book constitutes copyright infringement and could subject the infringer to criminal and civil liability.

Imagine Media Concepts

Hollywood, FL 33020

www.imaginemediaconcepts.com

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

Cover Design created by Imagine Media Concepts

Licensed stock images are from Shutterstock (1564437631, 1409940917), Envato (SkloStudio, benzoix, davidprahl, om_photography), and iStock (1227591971, 182725211, 1157988696).

Acknowledgment & Credits:

In two areas of the book, I showcase lyrics written by independent songwriters Diane Ward (Chapter 33) and Marianne Flemming (Chapter 41). If you have a chance, please check out their music on the web.

When I’m Needing Someone by Diane Ward from the album Mirror. © 1995 Diane Ward (ASCAP). Lyrics used with permission from the artist. www.dianeward.com

Fly Away by Marianne Flemming. Lyrics used with permission from the artist. © 2021 Marianne Flemming Music (BMI). www.marianneflemmingmusic.com

Rawhead & Bloody Bones by Unknown Author. The original Rawhead and Bloody Bones, also known as Tommy Rawhead or simply Rawhead, is part of an old traditional nursery rhyme from England (Yorkshire, UK). The Oxford English Dictionary cites approximately 1548 as the earliest written appearance of Bloodybone. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bloody_Bones

Additional Editing by Laura Wilkinson, London, England, UK

Facts & Historical Content:

The story of Love Lost Adventure: The Lie takes place in parts of Florida, New Jersey, and New York during the late nineties. While some aspects are based on historical data found on the web, primarily on Wikipedia, such as locations, The Fat Black Pussycat, the 1994–95 Major League Baseball strike, the Pro Bowl, and the history of Fort Brooke, most of the tale is entirely made up, such as the Blood & Bones Society and The Olustee.

www.lovelostadventure.com

Contents

Copyright

Dedication

1: Prologue

2: The Whirlwind

3: Let’s Go

4: The Hayeses

5: Stormy Weather

6: Cleo’s House

7: Woman In Black

8: Raging Tempest

9: Bloody Bones

10: YOU!

11: The Swing

12: In Your Dreams

13: Tempers Rising

14: The Cleaner

15: The Vaults

16: Robbed

17: Airport Security

18: Auras

19: The Diary

20: Kenneth

21: It’s Him

22: The Fiancé

23: Mrs. Hayes

24: Penn Station

25: The Olustee

26: She’s Back

27: It’s Getting Dark

28: Bridget

29: Those Eyes

30: Jilted Lover

31: The Exes

32: Waiting Room

33: 911

34: Brooklyn

35: The .22

36: Cleo’s Ride

37: The Mansion

38: The Kiss

39: Death of a Hitman

40: Wake Up

41: Betrayal

42: She’s Wanted

43: O’ Malley’s

44: Morning After

45: Sisters

46: He’s Hurt

47: The Studio

48: Illusions

49: The Lie

50: Breathe

51: The Letter

About The Author

Dedication

For my Mother, Vinny, & Thomas…

You live on through my words

& in my heart.

Diane Ward… for all your brilliance, lyrical knowledge, and words that always seemed to elude me, but mostly for your love and unwavering support.

Marianne Flemming… for our friendship, music, and stories we’ve shared that ignited this journey twenty something years ago.

Eric Smith… for your brilliant mind, competitive spirit, and our silly little bet that became a new passion—AND yes, you won!

A BIG special thanks goes out to… My Father, Suzette, Billy, Dee, Momma Shirley, Gail, Suzanne, Sarah, Darrell, and to all of my other wonderful family & friends who have given me a lifetime of love and support. I am truly grateful.

(((BIG HUGS)))

1: Prologue

January 23, 1998

Friday, 11:30 pm

Tampa, Florida

Oh, the glory of being a Senator’s wife.

She stood by the windowsill in her bedroom dressed in a black silk robe with her reddish auburn hair tied up in a bun, watching as the limo pulled up the driveway.

The traitor is home…

Three sheets to the wind, the fifty-four-year-old woman turned around, clicked off the evening news, and threw the remote on the bed. She then headed over to the small bar in the corner of the room. It was a stunning rare Civil War piece of furniture currently occupied by empty vodka bottles. She grabbed her cocktail and took a sip.

At the sound of the front door latch clicking open, her face flushed red, bags dropped to the floor, a set of keys clanged on the foyer table, and then the slow dance of footsteps creaking up the grand staircase that led to her bedroom.

How dare he…

Sarah Prescott would have given Scarlett O’Hara a run for her money. She was a proud, shrewd, cunning, calculating woman—a real ol’ Southern bitch. The meticulous woman took pride in making sure that everything in her life was perfectly in place, and if it wasn’t, she’d make it appear so.

Just a few sacrifices here and there, that’s all… some big, and some not so, but it was worth it, right?

She took another sip of her drink.

Daddy knows best…

A memory of her father swept over her, and suddenly, she was just eleven, sitting in her mother’s parlor room wearing her favorite dress. The Prescott family had just left the house, and her father, Frederick C. Jenkins—a short, stout, opportunistic man with ambitious dreams for his beautiful daughter, came rushing back in.

I have wonderful news, he said, beaming with joy. Today, I made a deal that will bring us a lot of money and set you up for life, my sweet darling. He kissed the top of her head, then locked eyes with her. But first, there are a few things you must do in order to achieve Daddy’s li’l goals. Can I count on you, my love?

Her father often spoke those words whenever he needed to justify the horrible things he wanted her to do, and just like the good girl she was, she did them.

Daddy’s little girl…

A pained expression twisted her beauty. Her perfect world was in turmoil, and Daddy wasn’t there to make it right. Hints of the Senator’s infidelity had been all over the news, and tonight’s headlines were especially bad. A questionable video of the Senator and his secretary filled the airwaves.

The door handle turned.

Speak of the devil…

Sarah braced herself like a boxer readying for a fight, and with one big swig, she emptied her glass as the door opened.

How could you? she blasted.

Andrew Blake Prescott, a six-foot-three distinguished-looking man in his late fifties, dressed in a suit and tie, entered.

You’re drunk, he snapped in disgust.

"You and that WHORE were all over the news again. I hope you are happy with yourself, mister."

Gimme a break, Sarah. You always do this. Just stop it. Contempt oozed from his lips as he walked over to the bar and grabbed one of the empty bottles. For God’s sake, how much have you had?

Sarah eyed her empty glass and growled, Not nearly enough, then tossed it into the wastebasket.

I see, so it’s going to be one of those nights, huh?

The Senator took off his jacket, revealing a shoulder holster and gun, which he unstrapped and placed on the bar, then reached into the cabinet, pulled out a bottle of Jack, and poured himself a drink. Like daggers, her eyes followed his every move.

I can’t stand to even look at you, she hissed. You destroyed everything, everything we’ve worked so hard for. Her upper lip curled in disdain. And now it’s all gone, down the drain, and for what, a piece of ass?

Calm down, Sarah, nothing happened. That video is misleading. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. The burn of satisfaction smiled back as he undid his tie. Trust me, nothing is going on. She’s married, for Christ’s sake.

Oh, really? Sarah’s eyes grew wide, her expression crazed as she got up in his face. "Do you think I’m that stupid? The world is that stupid?" She raised a hand, wanting so bad to slap him, but stopped herself and stepped back laughing.

Mr. Big Shot Politician… you’re so smart, aren’t you? You thought you’d get away with everything. You didn’t care who you’d hurt as long as you got what you wanted. Nope, it’s all about you, and you just couldn’t stop, could you?

Oh, bullshit, you don’t know what you’re talking about. It was just a friendly kiss… none of this is true. Just calm down. It’ll all be fixed by the morning, I promise. Now come here and stop this craziness. He pulled her into his arms. Don’t worry, Paddy will take care of it. He’ll make things right. He brushed his lips softly to hers. You know I love you—

Not this time, Blake! She jerked out of his arms. "No matter what you do, you can’t fix this. It’s done. You blew it! Kiss your chance at the presidency goodbye, mister—Kiss. It. GOODBYE! It’s OVER!"

Sarah rushed to the front window and stared out into the darkness. The cold rage she felt terrified her. She had heard about Blake’s affairs in the past and discounted them as boys being boys, but this time was different. The indelible images couldn’t be erased, and just like a strobing celluloid projector, the many scenes from the evening news of her husband and the tall blonde kissing in the elevator flashed before her eyes.

Everything is destroyed, she muttered to herself as she tried to make sense of it.

All of Father’s dreams are gone… they’re gone forever. Everything that I have worked so hard for is RUINED! The sacrifices that I have made, all of them, WASTED! And all because of this son of a bitch and that two-bit whore!

Sarah spun around.

How dare you!

And with all her might, she grabbed the heavy cast iron lamp off the nightstand and hurled it at the Senator’s head, hitting him dead center. He flew back against the wall and slid to the floor.

"Get up! Get UP," she shouted, rushing over.

"Be a man, you COWARD—Get UP!" She kicked his leg. He didn’t move. Staring in disgust, a twisted look appeared on her face. Mr. Wonderful Handsome Blake, look at you now… you’re pathetic.

Blood streamed down his face from the open gash on his forehead. She hovered over his limp body and whispered, I only married you because Father said you’d be something—Ha! You’re something alright…

She kicked him again.

A no-good-lying-cheating-piece-of-shit something—pfft, you dirty bastard.

She grabbed his drink and saluted.

Cheers, my love.

Dazed, he began to move, his eyes struggling to focus.

Mr. Big Shot… you thought you were the only one who had dreams, she sneered, pacing back and forth. "I had DREAMS—I had dreams too, her voice trailed. She appeared to be searching for meaning. Things that I wanted to do, but YOU… and Father, you stole my dreams… you stole my love."

She stepped behind the bar to pour another drink.

"ALL that I gave up… for YOU… for him…"

She threw the glass.

For nothing!

Her face contorted from the honesty of her words, the ugly truth she had never wanted to admit, and her breath hitched.

So much loss…

She reached for the holster, undid its clasp, then took the gun out and pointed it at the Senator’s head.

Never again.

Blake’s eyes grew wide.

"No, Sarah… DON’T!"

All the lies…

Sarah pulled the trigger.

The lie.

2: The Whirlwind

Tuesday, 8:00 am

Hollywood, Florida

Four days later…

The golden morning sun poured in through the kitchen window of the two-story house. Cleo stood by the sink, watching the neighbor’s cat chase a squirrel up the mango tree. A crack of a smile appeared on her face. She loved this time of the year. The weather was cool, the humidity low, and the crazy northerners paraded their fur coats up and down the aisles at the local market.

Silly New Yorkers…

A quiet chuckle slipped from her lips as she gathered the dirty dishes from the table and placed them in the sink. The kids had just left for school, and the house was quiet—and oh, how she loved her alone time. Yet, as peaceful as it was, she knew it wouldn’t last because today was a Teddy-day.

PLOP!

"Cleo-O, where’s my plane ticket?"

A headful of dark wavy locks popped up from a large black leather handbag that was spread out on the countertop, and within seconds, make-up, hair ties, gum wrappers, and other girly things were scattered about.

I don’t know, Teddy. What did you do with it?

"It was right here next to my wallet—WAIT, where’s my wallet?" Frantically, she eyed the room, then rushed over to a neat stack of papers in the corner and sifted through them, tossing several to the floor.

Dammit, I just cleaned that! Cleo swatted at her, but she just ducked and continued on her path of destruction. Teddy often short-circuited on her adventure days, and within seconds, the entire kitchen was upturned. You know, Theodora, you’d lose your mind if it wasn’t locked inside that thick skull of yours!

I love you too, my dear sweet sister. Teddy blew her a kiss and reached for the next pile. "Now, where could it be? Hmm, maybe upstairs?"

The Hayes sisters were as different as two people could possibly be. And while they bickered constantly, fought daily, and drove each other nuts, the truth was they absolutely adored each other. Cleo, whose real name was Cynthia, was a new divorcee with three children. At thirty-eight, she was pretty in a simple way, with bright green eyes and natural strawberry-blonde hair. She was overprotective to a fault, and dogs and kids just loved her.

Her younger sister, Theodora, was single and had been staying at the house to help with the kids. Teddy was a whirlwind of a person, a reckless adventure lover that drama and insanity seemed to follow no matter where she went. At thirty-six, she looked twenty-two. She was tall with dark brown hair and amber cat-shaped eyes that were notorious for catching a heart in just one look.

Teddy often liked to muse that she would never let her love life be decided by the typical boring conventions of marriage, race, color, or sexual preference, for that matter. Instead, she liked to brag that she fell in love with passion. However, on a recent warm September evening, mesmerized by the beautiful harvest moon shining through the bay window, she had an epiphany.

You know, Cleo, I think I might have made the biggest mistake of my life.

Oh yeah… how so? Cleo was seated on the couch, half-listening and half-scribbling her way through a crossword puzzle.

I think I walked away from the love of my life—

What’s an eight-letter word for extreme foolishness? Cleo tapped the pen on her lower lip.

It was my one chance at happiness, and I blew it. Teddy let out a sigh and plopped down on the couch beside her.

"Your what—with who?" Cleo looked at her, confused. I can’t imagine who you’re talking about, Theodora.

I’m talking about Cole.

Who?

Cole O’Keefe.

"O—Who?"

You know… the artist?

Oh, God, not another artist, Cleo scoffed. Why couldn’t it be the gym teacher? Teddy looked at her incredulous. "I never dated the gym teacher. He had ALL those thingies everywhere."

Those thingies are called muscles, and you didn’t like him because he was normal. Heh, such a shame too. He was so nice, and he just adored you.

"Pfft, NORMAL? He was BORING, bland, and not to mention CREEPY! Teddy shuddered, then laughed. I even told my therapist about him."

And?

Well, I said I’d never sleep with a guy like that, even if he was the last human being on the planet. Teddy bubbled her lips. I guess that’s kind of harsh, huh?

And did you tell her about your crazy obsession with out of work artists? Cleo battered her eyelashes, trying to convey how ridiculous she sounded, but Teddy doubled down with an intensity she had never seen before.

"It’s not an obsession, and Cole isn’t just an artist. He is a TRUE artist—a painter and a brilliantly damned good one, I might add. I’ve been dreaming about him lately, and I think he may be the one, the BIG ONE even."

"The BIG one? Cleo laughed. I don’t ever recall anyone being the one, and especially not the big one."

Oh, stop, he’s perfect for me. He’s my equal in every way.

Well, I don’t know about that… With a sigh, Cleo put down the puzzle book, focusing all her attention on her sister, and smiled. Okay, refresh my memory. Which one is he again?

What? I can’t believe you don’t remember him.

Of course, I do.

No you don’t.

"I DO."

"You DON’T."

Teddy, I remember him just fine! So are you going to tell me about him or what?

Pfft, never mind… Teddy crossed her arms, disheartened. Why waste the words when you don’t hear a thing I say?

Oh, Theodora don’t be like that. It’s just that there have been so many that I get their names all mixed up.

"So many?" Teddy glared at her.

Yes, but I’m not judging—

There have only been five or six at tops.

"Ha, five or six? There were way more than that!"

"ENOUGH—you know, Cleo, I don’t think I like you very much at the moment. Teddy turned away, refusing to look at her, and then, amused, Cleo tapped her on the shoulder and stuck out her tongue. Come on, Theodora, you know I worship the ground you walk on—now SPILL IT!"

"Oooh, you’re SUCH an asshole! And with an incredulous smile, Teddy uncrossed her arms and scooted over, eager to tell. Okay, so remember about ten years ago when I posed for those art classes downtown?"

Yes, vaguely.

He was standing in the back all by himself, just watching. So hot. So gorgeous. So brilliant, and just like me, full of passion.

Teddy, those were nude study classes!

Yes, they were, she giggled in delight. Now you remember him, don’t you?

Cleo’s eyes grew large, and slowly, she sank back into the fluffy cushions. "Oh, that Cole…"

Yes, that one. Teddy fanned her face.

Heh, the nude study guy?

Teddy looked down and laughed, realizing the nude factor might take away from the seriousness of the moment, and with her best yup-that’s-the-one smile, she uttered, Well?

"Yes, now I remember him… he was the one true love who drove you absolutely crazy, that’s for sure."

Crazy? Ha, I don’t remember him being like that.

Of course, you don’t. Geez, Teddy, you only remember the good stuff. It’s amazing how quickly you block out the bad.

Well, I guess the heart wants what the heart wants.

At a loss for words, Cleo picked up the crossword puzzle and uttered, What’s an eight-letter word for extreme foolishness or irrationality?

Teddy shrugged.

She can’t be serious about this guy. She’ll be bored after two days, and I hate to break it to her, but no one has ever been the ONE. She’s totally insane— Hey, that’s it! Quickly, Cleo scribbled in the boxes, mouthing the word:

I-N-S-A-N-I-T-Y

Satisfied, she closed the puzzle book.

Well, Theodora, I don’t know about Cole being the one and all, but I do know that you’ll never catch me posing nude and showing my girly bits to the world. That’s a sight only seen by the good Lord and my gyno.

"Is that so?"

Cleo’s eyebrow rose.

What are you trying to say, Theodora?

"I’m not trying to say anything, Cleo-O-patra. Teddy’s face brightened. She loved sassing her sister, and the best way to sass Cleo was to talk about her sex life… or lack thereof. I just know of a few others who have seen those girly bits, that’s all."

Clearly, you’re confusing me with someone else.

Shall I refresh your memory?

"No, don’t you DARE!"

Counting on her fingers, Teddy started to rattle off names. There was Davy, and Mikey, and Jimbo, and oh yeah, ha—good ol’ hunk of burning love, Arturo! Now, that one makes me proud.

"What… how so?"

You were so naughty that Mom and Dad blamed me for rubbing off on you, which, of course, I did!

Hmph, I don’t know what you mean by that.

Oh, Saint Cleo, give me a break! Don’t try to play innocent with me because I know where you’ve been! Teddy made the sign of the cross and blew a kiss up to the heavens. Hallelujah, now can someone give me an amen, please?

Cleo’s face scrunched into a tiny little ball as she tried her damnedest to look pissed, but it backfired. Instead, she let out a hearty belly laugh, which caused her to sink deeper into the couch, and the two sisters burst into a howling fit of laughter. Over the next hour, they replayed memories back and forth, each telling a better story than the last. Until Cleo clutched her sides and let out a long whining sigh. Sis, I must admit that you and Cole did make a beautiful couple. It was like watching wildfire.

We did, didn’t we? Teddy sat upright, finally feeling gotten.

Yes, and over the years, you’ve brought home all kinds, but out of all of them, Cole was just as carefree and passionate as you, which drove Mom and Dad nuts.

He did, didn’t he? Oh, my God, they hated him! Tantalized by the revelation, Teddy jumped up and grabbed the phone. Well, I’m going to give him a call and see what he’s been up to. I hope his number still works. Wish me luck!

Smiling, Cleo crossed her fingers.

Insanity at its finest—

CRASHHHH!

Found it!

Hanging over the railing, Teddy stood at the top of the staircase, waving her plane ticket high above her head like she had just won the lottery, and Cleo snapped out of her thoughts, suddenly feeling nauseous.

You know, maybe I should have discouraged her from calling him? Or at least pulled the plug on the damn phone line!

Laughing, Teddy skipped down the stairs.

Come on, Cleo, stop dragging your feet.

She kissed her on the cheek.

We can’t be late.

3: Let’s Go

It was almost noon, and I-95 was bumper-to-bumper. They were already dragging twenty minutes behind schedule, and to make matters worse, Cleo was a horrible driver. Several horns blared as she swerved in and out of traffic, and Teddy frowned.

"I bet you have