My first husband died when I was twenty-three. It was a terribly tragic end to a great love story—especially considering the fact that I was the one who killed the cheating bastard.
Okay, that probably came out wrong. Did it make me seem a tiny bit unfeeling? Insensitive, maybe? I'm not, honestly. I'm just like any other young woman struggling to make her way in the world. Except for the fact that I occasionally kill people.
Perhaps I'd better start in the beginning?
This is supposed to be a diary, after all.
I grew up in a little village in Alabama called Hilly Springs—not the place you generally associate with violent deaths, except for the occasional crow shot by a farmer who hasn't heard of animal rights. My family lived in an old farmhouse on Main Street, the only street in town big enough to be called a street. We had an apple tree in the yard on which grew actual, big, fat, red apples, and a large hairy dog named Rex. That's about all I remember of being a really little kid. The rest of my early days is a little bit hazy.
Anyway, my story only really starts with my first day at Hilly Springs High School. My story really starts with Sam.
I stumbled, thrown back by the dark shape I'd just collided with. I had been about to enter the school's main building, when someone on his way out had rammed right into me.
"Argh!" I heard a voice exclaim somewhere above me. I wasn't very surprised. Whoever this was they had gotten their toes underneath my favorite pair of platform boots. Not a fate to be envied, trust me.
To judge from the voice, it was some boy.
I looked up and saw instantly that I had been completely mistaken. It wasn't just some boy. Oh no. It was some seriously hot boy! And I mean seriously! With dark green eyes, messy dark hair and a cheeky grin that could make any girl instantly forget the existence of any other males on the planet earth—well, except maybe for that lead singer in this band I really liked...
The boy's hotness wasn't even diminished by the fact that he was hopping on one foot and cursing profusely.
"O-oh, I'm so s-sorry," I stammered, hurrying forward to support him, and maybe find out if his biceps felt as nice as they looked through the T-shirt. "I didn't mean to hurt you!"
Grabbing the doorframe with one hand he managed to turn towards me and gave me a smile that looked suspiciously like a grimace. "It's... okay. You didn't." Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "You're new here, aren't you? I haven't seen you before."
"Hi." He held out the hand that wasn't clutching the doorframe and, like in a dream, I took it. It felt firm and oh so warm. "I'm Sam. What's your name?"
"Hi, Ccassycassidy." He gave me his cheeky grin. "Nice to meet you."
Damn him! Was he teasing me? I might have stamped on his foot again for that if he weren't so hot. It would have been a shame to ruin such a nice-looking foot.
"Nice to meet you, too," I shot back. "What's Sam short for? Samantha?"
Pulling a tragic face, he placed his hand over his heart. "You wound my manly pride!" Suddenly his grin was back. "But I guess I deserved it. Hey, do you want to come and sit with our crowd at lunch? Me and a couple of my friends are throwing a little impromptu party in the cafeteria in honor of the school's nastiest math teacher's retirement, and you'd be welcome to join us."
Did I hear right? A boy had just asked me out on a date?
Well, not a date, precisely, because it was in the school cafeteria and there would be a bunch of his friends there. Still...
YOU ARE READING
INGREDIENTS FOR A HAPPILY EVER AFTER: One feisty heroine (That would be me. Hi, I'm Cassy.) One deliciously hot hero (I prefer them fresh, not frozen.) Passionate love (and a big fat pinch of lust!) Oh, and don't forget the "Till death do us...