Sweet Home (Sweet Home, #1), Sweet Rome (Sweet Home, #), Sweet Fall ( Sweet Home, #2; Carillo Boys, #1), Sweet Hope (Sweet Home, #3; Carillo Boys. Editorial Reviews. About the Author. Tillie Cole hails from a small town in the North-East of England. She grew up on a farm with her English mother, Scottish. Author's Note As you all know, I planned for Sweet Hope to be the final novel in the Sweet Home Series. I ended that novel with a finite tone, and I was content.
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Sweet Home series () by Tillie Cole Sweet Home (#1): At age twenty, Molly Shakespeare knows a lot. She knows Descartes and Kant. She knows academia . Sweet Home - Tillie Cole (1).epub. KB. Sweet Rome - Tillie Cole ().epub. KB. Sweet Fall . Jessica Clare - Stranded with a portal7.info MB. Sweet Home book. Read reviews from the world's largest community for readers. At age twenty, Molly Shakespeare knows a portal7.info knows Descartes an.. .
No part of this book may be uploaded without the permission of the publisher and author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is originally published. This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, actual events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters and names are products of the authors imagination and used fictitiously. The publisher and author acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book. Dedication To the many around the world who feel lost, insecure or inferior.
Throwing the sheet to the floor, I lifted my head, and there she was; bright and innocent as the angel I knew she had become. I blinked away the moisture from my eyes as I gazed upon her smiling face. Inching forward, I laid my fingers upon her cold marble cheek, drinking in her features-her eyes and nose-and her long brown hair.
I closed my eyes, committing each intricate detail to memory. I never wanted to forget these details. I couldn't bear to forget again. This sculpture, this marble face, was all I had left.
The rain outside grew heavier as the sky roiled with storm clouds, the small windows lining the roof of the warehouse were awash with sloughs of water. Then a bright flash of lightning bathed the room. Instinctively I reached into my pocket. My hand wrapped around the string of brown beads, and I pulled out the rosary, lifting it to my mouth to kiss the old silver cross.
My jaw clenched as I forced myself to look again at the angel's face. And just as I did, a crack of thunder roared above. As though I was a child once more, I reached out and held the angel's hand in mine.
Feeling the fragile fingers so small in my palm, I kept tight hold and dropped to the hard floor. And I breathed. I breathed through the pain of loss that I lived with each and every day.
I breathed through the fear that, before long, all the memories of her would fade to nothing, leaving me with a black void where her face used to be. As another bolt of lightning struck ground, I held the angel's hand tighter; this simple act of wrapping her fingers in mine, calmed the storm inside, even as the storm raged outside in the sky above. Leaning back against the legs of the angel, I kept hold of her hand and gripped the rosary to my chest.
The thunder boomed loud. Closing my eyes, I let the memories of the angel seep in,,, Thunder clapped in the sky and I jerked awake in my bed. The rain pounded the tin roof and walls, and I shook in fear-the drops sounded just like the bullets that the Heighters' shot outside.
Counting to ten, I quickly pushed the thin comforter off my body and jumped out of bed. A flash of lightning lit up my room, and only seconds later, a loud clap of thunder boomed in the sky, shaking our trailer. My feet ran forward, my heart beating fast. I ran into the living room, but it was empty. Austin and Axel were still out with the Heighters, but I knew my mamma would be here. She never left me alone. She worked real hard at her three jobs, but when Austin and Axel went out to make some cash, Mamma always stayed close by.
They were my favorite nights, when my mamma would read to me in bed. She'd stroke my hair, and she'd sing-I loved her pretty singing. When she sang, I would smile.
I didn't smile often. In fact, neither of my brothers nor my mamma smiled all that much. But I did when she sang. When she rocked me in her arms. Lightning struck again, and I ran down the narrow hallway toward my mamma's room before the thunder could boom. Reaching the door, I quietly turned the knob. Mamma's room was real dark, but there was a small candle lit at the side of the room, next to one of the lightning bug jars we'd made yesterday when mamma couldn't pay to keep the lights on.
I crept inside, and behind the door, kneeling beside the bed, was Mamma. She was praying. She did that a lot. When the thunder clapped again, I ran right toward the bed.
Mamma lifted her head. And then she smiled at me. I ran forward, and the minute I wrapped my arms around her waist, I felt better. Mamma always made me feel better. It's too loud, it's hurting my ears.
I'm,,, I'm scared. But you only believe in one God, Mamma. But your nonna used to say that thunder was nothing to be scared of. That it was simply the old Roman Gods making sure nobody forgot about them up in the heavens. Having too much vino and stamping their feet. Mamma squeezed me hard, and this time, when the thunder clapped above us, I felt no fear. Because it was only the Roman Gods letting the world know they were still here. Mamma shifted on the bed and lay down, tucking me into her side.
Her hand began running through my messy hair and her rosary dangled from her other hand. I stared at the brown beaded rosary with the large silver cross, as it hovered before my face. When I came in, what were you praying for?
Mamma's arms tightened around me, and when I looked up, I saw tears falling down her cheeks. It made my stomach churn. I,,, I didn't like it. Her cheeks were all wet. You don't cry for nothing. Because I found something out today that has upset me, and even made me a little bit scared. Mamma smiled against my head and stroked through my hair.
This is my burden, not yours. You're my baby, my big seven year old brave boy. She didn't sound okay. Then I noticed the rosary again, swinging in her hand. Moving my hand, I ran my fingers over the brown beads.
You always have them with you. Right now, you're clutching them real tight. She gives me strength, mia luna. I pray to her for strength. I tried to think why she needed strength. Blinking, a thought came to me and I asked, "Is it Austin and Axel? Do you pray for them? Because of the Heighters? I always pray for them. For what they do each night for that gang.
She then held up the rosary and placed it in my hand. She curled her hand around mine and pressed the beads into my palm. I want you to have these. I want you to keep them for strength. For the strength you will need someday soon. They're yours. I'm strong with you around. I don't need these. She was acting real strange. Mamma wiped her cheeks and a sad smile spread on her lips. I'll keep them for now. Always thinking of your mamma. But one day, when,,, when I'm not here, you keep these with you.
I want you to remember that these are yours. You are not your brothers, Levi. You are kind and shy, not hard and boisterous, ready to fight the world.
You are my quiet baby boy. My sweet, sweet soul. Axel and Austin were strong and tough. I wanted to be just like them. Mamma pressed a kiss to my forehead. You are a Carillo boy after all. But you are different from Austin and Axel. They are alike in so many ways-hot headed and tough, hard on the outside until they let you in.
You are the timid one, the gentle brother-inside and out. You are the one to carry his heart on his sleeve. You are the one who watches silently from afar and loves with all his soul.
You will love with your whole being, and it will be forever.
You could not love in any other way. You'll love her too. You will love the one I marry too. She blinked real fast. When she looked at me, she placed both hands on my face and stared into my eyes. It is late. It is time to sleep now. I closed my eyes when I couldn't keep them open any longer, but I couldn't stop thinking of what Mamma had said.
What was wrong? What had made her so sad? I knew Mamma thought I was asleep, because I heard her start to cry. I held my breath, when suddenly she kissed my cheek, and whispered, "I want the world for you, mia luna. And I pray that the girl who claims your tender heart is just as sweet as you. Someone to care for your fragile soul. Someone to cherish the gentle gift that you are, when I am no longer here to do so,,," As the thunder peeled again, it shook me from my past.
I looked up to the ceiling. With a hoarse whisper and blurred eyes, I echoed my mamma's words: Just for a little bit longer. My friends, Jake and Ashton, ran beside me. As I finished the bottle, Ashton nudged my side. The contact is not nearly enough, but it is all I have… all I have left of you, Daisy, my closest friend. Your grave, Daisy! How did it come to this? You never let it show, though, always smiling through the pain. Wearing your mask that told the world you were fine, but all the time you were dying inside.
I know because I wear this mask too.
You were always my rock, the one person who I could rely on. But you left me here alone and I am lost without you. It was never supposed to be this way.
We were meant to get through this life together, survive together. But just like the flower of your name, you thrived for a while but, too delicate to last, withered and died.
Your last words to me were live for the both of us. Do what scares me and cherish each day. And I will try. I promise, this year, I will try. But already dark thoughts plague my mind. Insecurities haunt me each day. The voice is so powerful in my mind, and only you could understand what this is like. Oh, Daisy, as I sit here in this silent and peaceful graveyard, a part of me wishes I were there in heaven with you.
I am not sure I am strong enough to carry on like this and, even now, the voice taunts and teases me from the deepest recesses of my mind. Daisy, I fear that without you in my life I will fall… again. Game day. An Alabama Crimson Tide game day.
My heart was racing, my palms were sweating, and I straightened my crimson uniform just to occupy my shaking hands. A finger snapped in front of my face, and I glanced up to see the team captain, Shelly Blair. I nodded and straightened up, and a smug smirk spread on her lips. A curt— and what seemed like impressed—nod was her only answer before she turned away and took her place at the front of our large co-ed squad.
It had taken me four years to get to this day. Four years to face being back on a squad. The squad everyone who ever tried out really wanted to make. He passed me his bottle of blue Gatorade. Two minutes. One hundred and twenty seconds. All my rehabilitation.
All my hard work was for this. This moment. This one chance to take back control of my demons. To face my biggest fear.
To face head on what drove me to my dark place. To conquer what nearly killed me.
The Million Dollar Band began to play. I watched their intricate formation from my spot. Drums were rolling. The Tide supporters went wild.
Each of my legs was leaden as I jumped on the spot, readying to run out onto the field. You can do it, Lex. Are you sure about that, Lexington? Everyone will see you. Every turn, every jump, every stunt. Freezing on the spot, I squeezed my eyes shut at the familiar voice worming its way into my thoughts, trying desperately to shut him down. I look good, healthy, I assured myself, trying my best to counteract his evil comments.
You are a good athlete, the best cheerleader, the best gymnast here. Mmm… I do not think so. Look at Shelly. She is perfect. Slim, pretty. Everything you are not. Shut up! You are too heavy to be the flyer. The bases of the stunt will think you are too fat. They will ridicule you, mock you… laugh at you, the voice taunted.
You will not win. I will not fall into your trap anymore! I mentally screamed, and a blissful silence enveloped my mind. With a relieved sigh, I reopened my eyes. The voice had gone.