Delay of Game

Jade Dollston

Chapters (123)

DELAY OF GAME

Jade Dollston

Copyright

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. Short quotes for book reviews are acceptable. For permissions, contact: [email protected]

Cover Design by Sammi Bee Designs

Editing and proofreading by Chrisandra, Master of the English Language, Commander of Commas, Princess of Punctuation, Goddess of Editing. That's actually on her birth certificate. True story.

Copy and sensitivity edits by Indie Edits with Jeanine and Corbeaux Editorial Services.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses and locations are either products of the writer's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

WARNING: THIS BOOK CONTAINS GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT AND PROFANITY. READERS 18+ ONLY.

Dedication

This book, my debut novel, is dedicated to my daughter. I love you with all of my heart. You've given me support and confidence that I can do this thing that I'm doing.

Also, DO NOT read past this page.

If you ignore the above plea, just know that "those parts" of this book are total figments of my imagination. I've never actually done any of them. Except that one time…

PRE-GAME

PRE-GAME

(Prologue)

Blue.

It’s one of the most common colors in the world. There’s the lightest blue of a cloudless Texas sky, and there’s the deepest blue of the yawning depths of the ocean. With about a million shades in between.

But the blue I’m seeing right now is making it difficult for me to pull oxygen into my lungs.

It’s bright. Sparkling. Almost like a pair of sapphires set high on the most cherubic face I have ever seen. The darkest blue surrounds the little girl’s pupils, and the facets and flecks of her irises lighten toward the outside as I search them with a sense of near desperation.

Framed by long, dark lashes, those orbs regard me curiously. Probably wondering why the hell I’m staring like I’ve seen a ghost.

It isn’t that I’ve never seen that particular hue before. To the contrary, I see an identical set of sapphire eyes every single day.

When I look in the mirror.

I don’t even need to glance at her mother to confirm what I already know.

Carrie Cavanaugh is my daughter.

FIRST QUARTER

1. Blaire

Blaire

Five Years Ago

I packed my cap and gown in one of the few open boxes left in my tiny apartment and sealed the top. My eyes swept the near-empty room, and I felt a sad smile creep across my lips. I was going to miss this place, but I had bigger things on the horizon.