Songbird (Songbird, #1)
Smashwords Edition
Copyrighted Material
SONGBIRD
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners and are used only for reference.
While advice was sought on correct military terminology, this remains a work of fiction where actual military procedures and protocol have been embellished to form part of the story.
Copyright 2013 by Lisa Edward
All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without the express, written consent of the author.
Cover photo and design by
Lindee Robinson Photography
Interior design and formatting by
E.M. Tippetts Book Designs
ISBN-13: 978-1493521692
ISBN-10: 1493521691
First Edition: November 2013
CreateSpace Independent Publishing platform
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Table of Contents
Chapter Two – The Great Escape
Chapter Three – Transformations
Chapter Eight – Operation Candyfloss
Chapter Fourteen – True Family
Chapter Fifteen – Hello Old Friend
Chapter Sixteen – Closure and New Beginnings
Chapter Seventeen – The Simple Things
Chapter Nineteen – Riley’s Song
Chapter Twenty – Fun In The Sun
Chapter Twenty-One – Close Shave
Chapter Twenty-Four – The Back Room
Chapter Twenty-Five – Dreaming of Whom?
Chapter Twenty-Six – The Giving of Gifts
Chapter Twenty-Seven – Deck the Halls
Chapter Twenty-Eight – Ocean Views
Chapter Twenty-Nine – Jumping Waves
Chapter Thirty – Bring It In With a Bang
Chapter Thirty-Two – Just Go For It
Chapter Thirty-Three – A Lesson Learnt
Chapter Thirty-Four – Things We Do For Love
Chapter Thirty-Five – The Break-Up
Chapter Thirty-Six – One of the Boys
Chapter Thirty-Seven – Touchdown
Chapter Thirty-Eight – Fresh Ink
Chapter Thirty-Nine – Stink Beetles
Chapter Forty – Gone But Never Forgotten
Songbird
Songbird Caged
Songbird Freed
(coming soon)
For Layla
never be afraid to reach for the furthest star.
“O
KAY, DO
you have everything you need?” Kelli asked.
Standing in the porcelain-tiled foyer of the house that I had shared with my boyfriend for nearly two years, I felt the weight of the world, lift from my shoulders.
I had loved this house when I had first moved in, so eager to be sharing it with Stephen. I had roamed from room to room, excitedly picking up ornaments or books to look at, then quickly placing them back down to move on to the next. As I did, Stephen had walked around behind me, adjusting what I had just touched, until he’d exasperatedly told me not to keep moving things.
I soon discovered there was a place for everything—including me. And it was definitely
not
my place to question him or make any decisions of my own.
As much as I had hoped in the beginning, this house had never really felt like my home. I had never felt comfortable or truly welcome here. It had always been his house that he had allowed me to live in, until I felt imprisoned by its perfection.
I took in the impressive sweeping wrought-iron staircase and the French-inspired pendant light hanging above it. I did love that light; it was beautiful, but always so difficult to reach when a bulb needed changing. I smiled to myself as I remembered balancing precariously on the banister like some circus acrobat, broom in hand, trying to swing the light over to me. I wouldn’t miss that.
To the left through the wide doorway was the study. I had spent many evenings in the house while Stephen was locked away in that room. It was always his private office, the desk drawers kept locked. The only time I entered was to clean, and to wax the desktop until I could see my reflection.
I wouldn’t miss that either.
To the right was the library, and of all the rooms in the house this was my favourite. Not because of the furnishings—they were too stuffy for me—but because of the books. I loved books, and this room was full of them. When everything had started turning to crap, and I had realised that my fantasy of a happily-ever-after was never going to happen with Stephen, I had turned to immersing myself in novels.
I would curl up in one of the massive chairs and lose myself in someone else’s adventures. There was always romance, always a knight in shining armour to save the day and rescue the damsel in distress from the ogre.
My ogre was Stephen.
In the movie
Shrek
, the title character likens ogres to onions because they have layers. Well, with every layer of Stephen that I uncovered, I found something worse. There was no good heart beating underneath a crusty exterior; for him, it was the opposite. The face he showed was all charm and everybody loved him, but under the charm laid a monster that surfaced often when we were alone together. His temper was unmatched. His gift for knowing just the right scathing remark to cut me to the quick and render me a blubbering mess, was astounding.
And he would never fight fair. For someone who claimed to be so clever, with far superior intelligence to mine, he always resorted to personal attacks.
I could still remember as if it had happened only yesterday, one night after a lively discussion about some eastern European change in government and all of our guests had gone home, I had been cleaning up, quite happy that our dinner party had gone so well.
“What the fuck was that rubbish you came out with, Tara?”
Spinning around, I had almost dropped the pile of dishes I’d been stacking on the bench. “What do you mean?” I’d asked warily. I knew that look in his eye, and he’d not been pleased about something.
He’d stormed over and got so close; his hot breath had flushed my cheeks. “You were trying to share an opinion when you don’t have one. You looked like an ignorant idiot, fumbling your way around. You embarrassed me in front of my associates tonight.”
He’d looked down his pointed nose at me, disgusted.
“At least Genevieve knows how to sit there quietly and just look pretty.” He’d looked me up and down. “There’s no hope of
you
looking pretty though, is there?”
He’d turned to walk away and I’d let out the breath I had been holding.
But he hadn’t been finished. “You’re lucky I put up with you. No one else would give you a second glance.”
“Are you okay?” Kelli asked, shaking me out of my melancholy. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”