Don’t Close Your Eyes by Hilary Storm Blog Tour and Giveaway

Synopsis 

Chapter One

Olivia

These bags are extremely

heavy.  I should’ve asked Michael to help

me, but I’d hate to inconvenience him and his new wife.  There really isn’t anyone else to call for

help since they’ve all stepped out of my ‘crazy’ world; the sudden changes I

made scared everyone off.  I can still

hear their comments about how unstable I am.

‘Who quits their job to write a book?’

Yeah, well bitches, I did.  I’ve

written five novels in a series and I have plans for so many more, but none of

them know that.  They seriously think I

sit here in my apartment and grieve.

I didn’t become a New York

Times bestselling author by crying myself to sleep at night.  I don’t have time for tears; there are places

to go and people to meet.  I’m headed to

a book signing in New York City.  It’s a privilege to even be invited to this

event.  A part of me is excited and

another is dreading this day.

I just wish I could have

one more day with him.  I’d love to show

him that I’m doing it, even though our friends and family have zero faith in

me.  He always believed in me and

supported me in everything I set out to do.

Very few people find a person who truly comes through for them when they

have off the wall ideas.  You know, like

work as an accountant for six years and then one day decide you’d like to write

a book.  I guess it didn’t help that I

decided to do that exactly one month from the day he died.

He would’ve been one

hundred percent behind me, but he’s not here, so I go it alone.  Don’t get me wrong, I miss him like crazy,

but that won’t bring him back to me.  As

for everyone else, they stepped away from me when I needed the support the

most.  They got off this crazy train and

it doesn’t circle back around to pick up passengers who jump ship.  Michael’s the only one who has had much to do

with me since I ‘went crazy’.

To be honest, my emotions

were so out of control that it took me spilling it all onto paper for me to be

able to cope with everything.  I miss him

so much and everyone wants me to ‘talk’ about it.  I just can’t and it’s easier to work through my

demons on my own.

I finally work my way past

airport security after checking my luggage.

Obviously, security isn’t getting any easier to pass through because I had

to be scanned separately from the others.

It’s probably because they sense the ‘crazy’ that the others speak

of.  This loneliness is partly my fault,

but it would’ve been nice for them to believe in me a little.

The flight is full of

people and should be interesting.  I

haven’t been in a crowd of people since the funeral almost a year ago.  This is a big step for me, though.  A book signing in New York City is huge for an author to

attend, never mind the fact that I’ve always wanted to go there.  James and I talked about traveling there

together many times.

I sit in my window seat

and hope for the peace I need to stay focused on my inner strength to get

through this weekend.  My ear buds begin

to blare one of my favorite Hinder songs and I pull my magazine out of my bag

to stay entertained for the non-stop flight across the states.

The passengers keep piling

in and I begin to wonder just how large this airplane is.  I paid extra money to fly First Class in

hopes of staying under the radar of any chatty passengers and kids that don’t

mind their parents.

I’m trying to stay focused

on my article while someone is reaching over my head to load his luggage, completely

distracting me.  I really should’ve

purchased the seat next to me.  Why didn’t I think of that before now?  Even with the help of the flight attendant he

has to force the bags into the compartment.

How the hell much stuff does he

have?

I purposely don’t make eye

contact with him after he flops into the seat right beside mine.  His leg pushes against mine a few times and

he seems extremely restless.  I’m not

sure if it’s intentional, but it seems that way.

We begin to prepare for

take off so I pull out my ear buds to hear all of the safety information.  Watching and listening to the flight

attendant give her instructions kind of overwhelms me, but I’m sure it’ll all

come to me in case of a true emergency.

It’s not like we’ll survive if this huge bird has a real emergency

anyway.

I slip the buds back in

for take off and begin to read again.  It

isn’t until he presses his leg into mine again that I begin to get

irritated.  His posture is slouched and

he’s noticeably oblivious to the fact that he’s invading my space with his huge

legs spread open like that.

“Excuse

me.”  I yank out an ear bud and let

it fall against my chest while I use my hand to gesture toward his leg.  I’m sure my face is telling him exactly how I

feel, because it never lies.  I have a

very shitty poker face.

“No worries.  You’re not bothering me.”  The shock on my face from his audacity has

him smiling.

“You’re bothering

me.  So if you don’t mind, please move

your leg.”  I sit back in hopes of

him doing as I ask and grab the ear bud to reposition.

“Nah.  I don’t mind. 

Sorry, ma’am.”  Ah HELL NO. 

He did NOT just call me ma’am.

That makes me feel so damn old.  I

choose to attempt to ignore him and move to plug my ear again, but hell if it doesn’t bother me.  His stare begins to heat my skin—you know,

like the weird feeling you get when you can tell someone is watching you.  I shift so that I’m turned more toward the

window and try to enjoy the view of the landscape below.  The feel of his leg brushing up against mine

again causes me to pull further away from him.

I notice the touch of his finger on my shoulder and everything inside of

me wants to stand up and scream for this creep to get off of me.  My head whips around to glare at him when I

notice the attendant staring at me in the aisle.

“Would you care for

something to drink?”

“Yes, I’ll take a

water, please.”

“One water, one Jack

and Coke.  I’ll be right back.”  Why do I let it shock me that this character

is drinking at 8:30 in the morning?  It

really shouldn’t shock me at all.

“Don’t you think it’s

kind of early to be drinking like that?”

“It’s okay.  I drink Coke any time of day!”

“Right…. Well, good

luck with that.”

“You’re pretty

stiff.  You could probably use a drink

like that yourself!”

“I’m not stiff, so

keep your comments to yourself, if you don’t mind.”

“I think you are stiff and you have to live a little,

but I’ll work on keeping that to myself.”

Who does he think he is?  He doesn’t get to judge me after only sitting

beside me for a couple of minutes.

“You have no idea

what I’m going through, so don’t try to judge me based on the few minutes

you’ve seen me today.”

“Touché.  Let me apologize and maybe we can start

over.”  I wait for his actual

apology and find myself waiting too long.

My impatience grows wild and I can’t believe I’m letting this guy really

get to me.  He enjoys my silence a little

longer before he finally speaks.

“I’m truly sorry for

calling you stiff.  Please accept my

apology and let me buy you a drink.”

He watches my face very closely and must finally get a clue that he’s

pissing on a ticking time bomb.  He

extends his hand in an introduction-like stance.

“Liam Bryant.”  The disgust on my face has to be obvious as I refuse to shake his hand or willingly touch

anything of his.  His sexy as hell grin

flashes across his face and damn if my eyes don’t betray me.  Those lips are the kind you want to watch

someone run their tongue over.  There is

an awkward silence before I begin to reach out to accept his introduction.

“Olivia

Drake.”  My eyes get caught up in

his gorgeous baby blues for a few seconds before I realize our hands are still touching.  I pull back slowly and shift back in my

seat.

“Olivia Drake, what

has you headed to New York City?”  Telling a stranger any more about myself is completely out of the question, so I

quickly decide to be as vague as possible.

“Business trip.”

“Me, too.  Do you travel there often?”

“No, this is my first

time.”

The drinks arrive and he

immediately asks for a second drink of the same.  “The lady will have what I’m

having.”  His persistence is such a

pain in my ass.  This flight is going to

be torture if I continue to let him get to me so I send the flight attendant a

smile in agreement.

He leans back in his seat

in such a relaxed state next to my very straight, upright and uptight

posture.  Taking note of that makes me

realize I am stiff and tense.  I prefer to call it focused and driven, but

those words don’t really explain my posture.

I try to relax a bit by

leaning the seat back and decide to prove to myself that I’m not stiff.

He offers me the Jack and Coke just as I have this epiphany, so I gladly

accept his challenge.