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Thanks so much for having me! Five interesting things? Hmm, to divulge the crazy or not to divulge the crazy? Okay, here goes…
I don’t have many bucket-list items, but one of them is to see the Seven Wonders of the World. (Does that count as one item or seven?) There’s just one problem, aside from needing tons of time and endless amounts of money. When you research them, there isn’t one cohesive list. There are the ancient wonders, the natural wonders and the modern wonders. I can either make my goal to see the 21 Wonders or pick and choose to create “Kelly’s Wonders of the World.” So far I’ve seen one.
I am freakishly skilled at Wheel of Fortune. I can glance at the television with my arms loaded with laundry, my daughter screaming from the shower that she’s out of shampoo, my son trying to practice his latest karate move on me and two letters showing on the board…and solve the puzzle. Conversely, I am a terrible Scrabble player. Go figure.
I started dating my husband because he made me laugh. I love dark humor and his delivery was, and still is, completely deadpan. Now, whenever my daughter tells me about her latest “crush”, and I ask her what he’s like, her answer always starts the same… “He’s really funny”. I guess the apple is falling close to this tree.
I have the worst sense of direction known to man or woman. Seriously. A lot of people think they do, but that’s only because they haven’t met me. The fourth happiest day of my life (after the births of my children and my wedding) was the day GPS invented the “reverse directions” option. It’s the only way I ever got home from anywhere.
I’m very quirky. Whether my quirks are endearing or insane is in the eyes of the beholder. One of them is that I like my food to be a certain way on my plate. One night, I went out for Mexican food. When my order came, my enchiladas were on the right and the rice and beans were on the left. Now, in my world, the main dish goes on the left, so I turned my plate around. (Good, common sense, right?) Only much to my dismay, that caused the restaurant’s logo, which was at the top of the dish, to be upside down. There was no way I could eat with upside-down words staring at me. As I figured out how to rectify this horrible situation, both of my sisters looked at my meal and said at the same time, “Oh this is gonna be a problem.” I don’t know what was worse – the fact that this was an issue for me, or the fact that they knew my issue before I’d spoken a word. The solution, by the way, was simple. I covered the words with my rice and beans and ate the way nature intended – entrée on the left, side dish on the right. And my sisters breathed a sigh of relief.
My website reveals more of my quirks if you’re interested, but I think I’ve revealed enough of my insanity for one day.
After witnessing firsthand his parents’ tumultuous marriage, Griffin worries that he, too, harbors an explosive dark side. Can he escape from his father’s rage-fueled ways or is he destined to become part of the cycle?
Unable to persuade his mother to leave and wrestling with his resentment towards her for staying, Griffin volunteers at Holly’s House, a safe haven for abused women. Through sculpture, Griffin gives these women pieces of themselves they’ve long forgotten. Holly’s House is the only place where Griffin finds peace and purpose.
Until he meets Frankie Moore.
Frankie is an aspiring photographer, finding beauty in things most people miss, including Griffin. Griffin is attracted to her free-spirited, sassy attitude but fears Frankie will trigger the most intense part of him, the one he must keep buried.
Frankie’s got to get her act together. Her anything-goes behavior is leading nowhere fast. She’s hopeful that her latest hobby will be a building block for the future. But when a stranger appears on the other end of her camera, looking as complex as he is handsome, Frankie thinks this might be just the change she needs.
Enjoy an excerpt:
“You need to grow up, Griffin,” my father spat at me. “Life isn’t perfect. You need to get over it and move on. Your mother can. She’s happy with me and whatever we have between us is our business, not yours. Grow the hell up, and start acting like a man instead of a petulant child.”
Heat shot through my body at lightning speed. “Act like a man—like you?” I shouted. “What should I do, go pick some amazing woman who’s full of life and beat it out of her until she can’t even recognize herself any more, until she can’t even differentiate between love and pain? Is that what a man does, Dad? Is that what I should do?”
My father broke into a smile. An evil, condescending, terrifying smile. “You think you’re so different from me?” He hovered over me. His tone was sinister, as if he was trying to cut through my skin with nothing but his voice. “Get up.” He yanked my arm and pulled me by the elbow into the bathroom. He grabbed the back of my head and forced me to face the mirror. “Look at yourself, Griffin. And look at me. Everything about you comes from me. You may deny it now. You may put yourself on a pedestal, thinking you’re above being human, but just know that the fire inside you, that’s my fire. That passion, it’s mine. And when you have an uncontrollable desire to love, to hurt, to possess a woman, it’s from me. Nothing is yours alone. Even this face.” He snagged my chin between his strong fingers. I tried to yank it away from his grasp, but he held on too tight. “It’s mine. And there’s nothing you can do about it. You can try to mask it in this mess of hair and clothes and tattoos you have going on, but know that every time a woman falls in love with that face, every time she says she can’t resist you because of it, every time she can’t walk away from you…it’s because of me. It’s because you are me. We. Are. The. Same.” He released my chin with a shove and left the bathroom.
About the Author:K.K. Weil grew up in Queens, but eventually moved to New York City, the inspiration for many of her stories. Weil, who attended SUNY Albany as an undergrad and NYU as a graduate student, is a former teacher. She now enjoys writing her own dramas and lives near the beach in New Jersey, where she is at work on her next novel.
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