Second Chances
By: L.K. Below
Do you think people are capable
of changing?
When I was in elementary school,
I was (very briefly) considered one of the “cool” kids. I attribute this more
to the group of friends I kept, three out of the other four being infinitely more
outgoing, fun, and daring than I was. The last might even have been shier than
I was, at least until you cracked her shell.
One of this group, I trusted
above the others, having been joined at the hip with her since second grade. In
elementary school, three years of friendship is like a lifetime. It’s
infallible.
But two girls, outside our little
clique and just as popular, if not more so, decided that they wanted to be
friends with our group. That is…with everyone except me. Everyone in the group,
especially my best friend of old, idolized these girls. These girls who lived
in our quaint little town instead of in the country outside it. These girls who
were allowed to walk around town, whereas we, having protective, responsible
parents, were not. I didn’t much like these girls, who didn’t read, who didn’t
do well in class, who essentially, were nothing like me.
But my friends did. And before I
knew it, that winter, I was no longer friends with the group I’d grown to
trust. The hardest of all, and the person I still think of as the instigator
even if I no longer hold a grudge, was that elementary school betrayal by my
then-best friend.
The funny thing is, a scant year
later, our positions were reversed. Don’t get me wrong, I still wasn’t “cool,”
nor did I aspire to be. But I had a close-knit group of friends who held the
same ideals of friendship as I did. And that best friend of old, I found
sitting beneath the big tree in the school yard, crying.
I remembered what that was like,
to suddenly find myself friendless and bullied. At twelve, I didn’t hesitate. I
welcomed her into our group. A couple years later, she shrugged me aside again
in favor of the “cool” kids. I probably should have seen it coming.
Because, after all, do people
really change?
Humans are not infallible.
Mistakes are made, time and again. In fiction and in reality, we see the time
old-question of second chances. Do you give someone a second chance? Do you
give them a third? At what point do you give up and wonder if perhaps it isn’t
worth trying?
In Hellish Haven, I explore that theme. After a prolonged absence,
when Eva is held captive by the tyrannical government, I send her back into her
husband’s arms as a different person. I give them not only a second chance at
happiness, but a clean slate. Because, you see, having been brainwashed while
in enemy custody, Eva doesn’t remember Grant or their son. At all.
In fact, Eva never escaped the
government’s clutches at all. They sent her back, to study and gather
information for them.
If possible, this transition is
even harder on Grant than it is on Eva. Without memory of the war the
resistance has been fighting since before her son was born, she is thrust into
this world falsely innocent. She has an ideal of the way a person, a family,
should be, and can’t reconcile the parts of Grant which have to, out of
necessity, act against that ideal. She even considers offering an ultimatum,
not realizing that she herself has been marked in ways unseen, and might
unwittingly jeopardize her family.
Grant remembers her as she was,
the strong and capable woman he married. The woman who fought alongside him
without reservations. He doesn’t quite realize just how much she has changed
while under government control, not until it’s almost too late.
Then the question between them
rests. Do they each deserve a second chance? Should they try, for their son’s
sake? Or would it be too dangerous…
Hellish Haven
Synopsis:
Two lives. Two
realities. But only one truth.
The Senator reigns all-powerful in a manifested picture-perfect world. No worries. No wars. Only the unspoken threat of oblivion if you step a toe out of line. On the other side of the divide, the rebels face a debilitating war against an invulnerable robotic army. Every day is a struggle to earn back their freedoms. Freedom to feel. Freedom of speech. Freedom of thought.
Sergeant Grant Baker is pivotal to the war effort. But ever since his wife’s abduction, he’s been walking around in as much of a daze as the Senator’s brainwashed citizens. Then Eva reappears—without memories of him or their son. And he’s willing to do anything to keep her. Even if it means jeopardizing the war.
Eva doesn’t know which side to believe. Her predictable life as a single nurse, or the man claiming to be her husband. All she knows is she needs to discover how to end the war, quickly. If she doesn’t choose sides soon, she may lose the man—and the life—she never knew she wanted.
The Senator reigns all-powerful in a manifested picture-perfect world. No worries. No wars. Only the unspoken threat of oblivion if you step a toe out of line. On the other side of the divide, the rebels face a debilitating war against an invulnerable robotic army. Every day is a struggle to earn back their freedoms. Freedom to feel. Freedom of speech. Freedom of thought.
Sergeant Grant Baker is pivotal to the war effort. But ever since his wife’s abduction, he’s been walking around in as much of a daze as the Senator’s brainwashed citizens. Then Eva reappears—without memories of him or their son. And he’s willing to do anything to keep her. Even if it means jeopardizing the war.
Eva doesn’t know which side to believe. Her predictable life as a single nurse, or the man claiming to be her husband. All she knows is she needs to discover how to end the war, quickly. If she doesn’t choose sides soon, she may lose the man—and the life—she never knew she wanted.
Excerpt:
Acting as vanguard for
the injured squad, Grant turned a corner and froze. A hulky man carried a limp
woman over his shoulder.
Grant automatically
reached for his gun. Even if they weren’t yet across the divide, he couldn’t
stand idle as a man accosted a woman. Or worse. He aimed the rifle at the
criminal. “Set her down nice and easy.”
The man froze. He glanced
over one meaty shoulder, his unshaven mouth set in a scowl.
“Set her down, or I’ll
shoot.”
A gold tooth flashed as
the criminal grinned. He hurled the small woman at Grant and dashed for the
slim space between two buildings.
Grant moved without
thinking. His gun clattered to the ground as he lunged forward to catch the
woman before she split her head open on the sidewalk. He grunted as he caught
her with her weight against his bruised forearms. He shot a flickering glance
her way. A riot of brown curls obscured her face. He set her gently on the
ground.
He dashed for the opening
the shady figure had disappeared into, but saw no sight of the man. The
delinquent was long gone.
Ashland panted as he
jogged to Grant’s side. “What happened?”
If Grant never heard that
question again, it would be too soon. He shook his head wearily. “Mugging, I
guess.”
“They still have those
here? I thought the Senator brought an end
to violence.” Ashland drew sarcastic quotes in the air as he spoke.
Grant didn’t bother to
answer. He turned to the woman and where his squad was now gathered. A
horrified private glanced from the woman to Grant and back again. “What do you
want us to do with her…sir?”
If they left her, the
Senator’s people might find her and stick her back in the pen with the rest of
their brainwashed sheep. Then again, that same goon might double back to
continue what he started.
He crossed to the woman
and crouched to lift her into his arms. Her tangled hair fell away from her
face. He nearly dropped her. “Eva?”
Frantically, he pressed
his ear to her chest. Her breathing was shallow, but her heartbeat steady and
strong. He clutched her tighter. He couldn’t believe it.
He’d found his wife.
Buy links:
Kensington Books - http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/book.aspx/31107
Bio:
L.K. Below grew up in a small town in
Ontario, Canada, where her only peek into the wide world was through books.
She’s been a bookworm ever since she learned to read, and loves any book with
characters and worlds she can lose herself in. She wrote Hellish Haven to take one of her favorite classic books, George
Orwell’s 1984, into the modern
day…or, in this case, near future. She writes as obsessively as she reads and
likes to Tweet about both at @LBelowtheauthor.
Find her online at www.lbelow.net.
Thank you so much for having me, Sondrae! It's always a pleasure. :)
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