Hello and thank you for once again hosting me on Love Bytes to celebrate the release of my 12th full length novel: Tripping Over the Edge of Night. I have to admit that this was one of the easiest and yet, in some ways, hardest novels I’ve ever written. On the easy side, Derrick and Mason weren’t like some of my other characters who spoke in bursts and then were silent for long stretches. Once these guys started sharing their story the first draft was on the page in less than six weeks. Of course it did help that the Midwest was under a deep freeze and everything around here was closed, which left me plenty of uninterrupted time to write the book. The harder parts though, were some of the topics the story touched upon, like going back home after more than a decade, resolving issues and miscommunications with a sibling and of course, earning a second chance with someone who was loved and left behind.
In Mason there were so many contradictory emotions at war with each other over the course of the book, ranging from anger over Derrick leaving and never reaching out to communicate with him over all those long years, to exhilaration that his best friend had finally come home and claimed to be staying. There were times over the course of the writing when I feared his struggles to let go of the past and move forward would push Derrick into giving up on them, or even on staying, but unlike some of my other characters, Derrick was never content to leave things alone for long. He spoke up for himself and called Mason to task for some of the things he said, and I think, in the end, they were stronger for it.
I can look back over my own life experiences and see those moments when I should have said what was in my heart and mind to say, and instead walked away, and it was those regrets that I did not want to have filter into the story. I wanted them to have the person they’d fallen in love with and had carried the torch for over the years. I wanted the years to not have changed them so much that the spark and connection was no longer there, and most of all, I wanted that since of longing and regret to be replaced by something stronger, something they’d earned. It is my sincere hope that I accomplished that in telling their story.
Going home had never felt so wrong.
When Derrick received the phone call informing him of his mother’s death, it felt like the bottom had dropped out of his entire world. Gone was every hope and ideal he’d left home with, replaced with the bitter realization that he’d run out of time, run out of plans, and was desperately close to running out of give-a-damn.
It doesn’t help to come face to face with his older brother, Ray, who’d spent much of his childhood either ignoring him, ditching him, or complaining about his very existence. It’s enough to send him right back on the road again, or at least, it would have been, were it not for a house, a cat named Slash, and Mason, his best friend-with-benefits, now the head librarian in town and hot as sin.
It was hard enough leaving Mace in the first place, but a second time? He didn’t think he had it in him to be so heartless. Twelve years ago he’d slipped away under the cover of darkness, without even a single goodbye. Now, standing on the edge of night, looking down at the tiny town he’d fled, Derrick is left with one burning question:
Can the door to the past ever be closed enough to allow space for the future?
Available on Kindle Unlimited
The air outside smelled of snow, a welcome change from the marijuana and onion stench inside. Drawing in a deep breath, he fought to center himself, get the backpack strapped securely to the back of the bike and his helmet on, wishing he had chaps, but as bulky as they were, they’d have taken up all the space in his saddlebags.
At least the cold would keep him awake. The roar of the machine, usually so soothing, did nothing to calm him down. Over a thousand miles stood between him and the place he’d grown up. The beautiful Smoky Mountains would still be alive with summer blooms right about now, and yet, there would be nothing joyful about this homecoming.
He pointed the bike south, shivering the moment the winds started piercing through his clothes. The jacket was some help, though he paused after less than a mile to zip it. There was nothing he could do for his lower half, so he gritted his teeth and gutted it out, watching the miles inch past as he rolled through the night.
Twenty-seven hours later, he pulled up in front of the house he’d been raised in, the light burning in the kitchen a bit of a shock to him, but then, he hadn’t been sure what to expect. The whole way down had been a blur, questions flashing quicker than he could latch onto answers. What happened next? The funeral, or was that something he and Ray would have to plan? He tried to recall what they’d done for his father, another death that had happened so abruptly, it had taken him months of wandering before it fully kicked in.
Dusty, road weary, and exhausted, he trudged up the steps, backpack over his shoulder, hesitating with the key halfway to the lock, wondering what he’d find inside. Had she fallen? Had she lain in the house for hours, or even days, before someone had found her? Would the remanence of her fate be awaiting him on the other side of the door? It was enough to make him wish he could hop back on the bike and disappear somewhere. It wasn’t as if there was anyone left who’d be itching to track him down.
After the funeral, he told himself as he slipped the key in the lock and let himself in, stepping into a foyer that had changed little since the last time he’d been home. When had that been, anyway, he mused to himself as he removed his boots and set them off to the side, adhering to that rule despite the fact that his mother would never again pop around the corner and chastise him for forgetting.
That pain in his chest returned, not that it had ever left completely, but somewhere around southern Iowa it had eased up enough that he could draw a full breath. Now, he leaned against the wall, eyes on the floor, terrified to take another step, the silence reminding him of the emptiness of the place.
No more Mama singing while she cooked, barefoot in the kitchen dancing to whatever song had popped in her head. No more warm aromas of baked goods permeating every room, the sugary goodness tantalizing his senses, drawing him into that hub of laughter and conversation. No more holiday decorations, the elves perched on every shelf in the house. No more snowmen grinning from every corner and crevice. It was the end of everything. What the hell had made him think there would be time to come back and enjoy everything he missed once he’d accomplished what he’d set out to do?
LAYLA DORINE lives among the sprawling prairies of Midwestern America, in a house with more cats than people. She loves hiking, fishing, swimming, martial arts, camping out, photography, cooking, and dabbling with several artistic mediums. In addition, she loves to travel and visit museums, historic, and haunted places.
Layla got hooked on writing as a child, starting with poetry and then branching out, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. Hard times, troubled times, the lives of her characters are never easy, but then what life is? The story is in the struggle, the journey, the triumphs and the falls. She writes about artists, musicians, loners, drifters, dreamers, hippies, bikers, truckers, hunters and all the other folks that she’s met and fallen in love with over the years. Sometimes she writes urban romance and sometimes its aliens crash landing near a roadside bar. When she isn’t writing, or wandering somewhere outdoors, she can often be found curled up with a good book and a kitty on her lap.
Layla is the author of Guitars and Cages, Guitars and Choices, Gypsy’s Rogue, Desolation Angel, …And All Shall Fade to Black, Midnight musicals and Coffee Ice Cream, Roadhouse Reds, Serpent’s Kiss, Racing the Sky, Broken Prince Mismatched Eyes, and Burning Luck.
Layla Dorine can be found at:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LaylaDorine13
Twitter: https://twitter.com/layladorine
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/layladorine/
Tumblr: https://layladorine.tumblr.com/
Author Website: layladorine13.wix.com/layladorineauthor
Author on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9814124.Layla_Dorine