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Chapters (48)
  1. 1. One
  2. 2. Two
  3. 3. Three
  4. 4. Four
  5. 5. Five
  6. 6. Six
  7. 7. Seven
  8. 8. Eight
  9. 9. Nine
  10. 10. Ten
  11. 11. Eleven
  12. 12. Twelve
  13. 13. Thirteen
  14. 14. Fourteen
  15. 15. Fifteen
  16. 16. Sixteen
  17. 17. Seventeen
  18. 18. Eighteen
  19. 19. Nineteen
  20. 20. Twenty
  21. 21. Twenty-One
  22. 22. Twenty-Two
  23. 23. Twenty-Three
  24. 24. Twenty-Four
  25. 25. Twenty-Five
  26. 26. Twenty-Six
  27. 27. Twenty-Seven
  28. 28. Twenty-Eight
  29. 29. Twenty-Nine
  30. 30. Thirty
  31. 31. Thirty-One
  32. 32. Thirty-Two
  33. 33. Thirty-three
  34. 34. Thirty-Four
  35. 35. Thirty-Five
  36. 36. Thirty-Six
  37. 37. Thirty-Seven
  38. 38. Thirty-Eight
  39. 39. Thirty-Nine
  40. 40. Forty
  41. 41. Forty-One
  42. 42. Forty-Two
  43. 43. Forty-three
  44. 44. Epilogue
  45. Afterword
  46. Also by
  47. Acknowledgments
  48. About Author

Olive rolled her eyes and mumbled, “That was not a beginners hill.” Taylor and I both laughed and said our goodbyes as they walked away.

Once Olive was gone, I was overwhelmed by a sense of what now?

14. Fourteen

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When we got back to the house, everything was eerily quiet. Matt and Taylor left for their own home, Sarah and her husband knew better than to hang out here, and Mom and Dad were quietly hanging out in the living room.

I took advantage of the peace so I could get some work done. I had my laptop opened, my noise-cancelling headphones on, and my coffee next to me ready to go. But I couldn’t concentrate. I figured maybe it was the podcast I was listening to, so I switched to my favorite one.

It was a true crime podcast hosted by two young women who dissected and theorized crime mysteries starting back in the thirties. I usually loved this one, not only for the suspense, but because both women had beautiful vocals. They were feminine enough but not high-pitched with a bit of a rasp to them that made me excited when they said words like “victim” or “hatchet.” But for some reason, this afternoon I couldn’t focus. Even with the comforting sound of women talking about dismembered bodies and bloody crime scenes, I couldn’t get in the zone. What is wrong with me today?

It had to be because I was in Colorado. I’ve never worked on podcasts from anywhere other than my cute little apartment in West Palm. I’m outside my usual routine, so my mindset isn’t right. It’s too dang cold, and I don’t have a margarita in my hand, that’s all. Thankfully, I was ahead of schedule on all my editing, so this wouldn’t affect anyone else that I work with. Editing podcasts wasn’t my first career choice, but I left Colorado in a tizzy. I had no plans and no luggage, only my phone, laptop, and car. I saw an ad for this job and figured as much as I listened to podcasts and audiobooks, I would like it. Soon, I became talented enough that I had a handful of clients who used me for every show. After that, I was able to make a good enough living.

For now, I sat in my childhood room at my old desk wondering where to go from here. I forced myself through another hour of cutting ums and ahhs out of the conversations, or taking out any repeated phrases, but I left enough for it to sound natural. After I pushed through one podcast, I let myself check my phone.

Hottie in 15B: So should I start my twelve days of Christmas tonight?