So... let me introduce you to Levi and Andi: Levi is a twenty-five year old skydiver, and the illegitimate son of an Australian publishing magnate. He has a troubled past and is struggling to come to grips with his father's unwanted presence in his life. He wants nothing more to get him out of his life, and will do almost anything to achieve it. Andi is a twenty-one year old Costco cashier, and comes from a loving, somewhat suffocating, traditional Italian American family. She feels lost in life and has no direction, and unbeknownst to her family and friends is in a deep depression and often seeks solace in the bottom of a Vodka bottle. That is until she meets Levi, and she falls instantly for his Aussie charm. He makes her feel alive. But can their fledgling relationship survive their different backgrounds, and the meddling of Levi's father, who refuses to let his son go?
Read on for an excerpt of Chapter One from Freefall:
My head was pounding. Actually pounding wasn't exactly the most accurate word I could use. There was also: throbbing, pulsating, thudding, thumping. It felt like someone had taken a hammer to my skull in the middle of the night and it was split in two. It was all self inflicted of course, so I couldn't even afford myself some pity. In two words: Excruciating hangover. My eyes were glued shut tight and my mouth felt like I had chowed down on a bucket of sawdust. I couldn't even be sure I had a good night. My memory of the night was very, very hazy. All things considered though, if my head was this sore, it must have been legendary.
I needed water. Maybe I could do without it and just rollover and go back to sleep this almighty hangover off. Unfortunately my dry foul tasting mouth had other ideas. It felt like I was breathing out deadly toxic fumes. Perhaps if I just cracked one eye, enough to see where I was going, I could get to my bathroom to brush my teeth. I gave myself a pep talk in preparation for the big move; You can do this, and I practically dragged my sorry naked ass to my bathroom. My head felt like it was about to cave in. I needed something to take the edge of this headache. While gripping the basin with one hand for support I quickly washed my face and brushed my teeth, and after relieving myself, I then shuffled my way into the kitchen for some life saving fluids and some ibuprofen.
Fuck. It must have been one hell of a party. The condo was trashed. Empty bottles of beer and tequila were strewn from one end to the other. The place smelt like bar and stale cigarette smoke. An unknown semi naked male and female couple were still passed out on my couch. I didn’t smoke but judging by the unsmoked joints lined up on the coffee table, my guests liked to light up more than just camels. I spied a pair of black Calvin Klein boxer briefs on the floor and recognized them as my own. I hadn’t remembered whipping them off during the night and slipped them back on in case my guests happened to wake up. Party rule 101: It’s one thing to show your junk during the festivities while under the influence, but it’s never acceptable to release the dragon the morning after. Unless of course you happen to be in bed with a member of the opposite sex who is also naked and willing to partake in a morning after sex session. And seeing as I woke up alone, the boxers had to go on. I squinted at the couple that were passed out on top of each other on my couch. Damn who were these people? It appears I had found a rent a crowd in my travels last night. Screw it. I’d deal with them later.
I continued to the kitchen and guzzled two large glasses of water and threw down a couple of ibuprofen tablets to take the edge off this headache. Food would also go down a treat right now. What I would have given for a dish of greasy bacon and eggs. Unfortunately I had no food in my condo and even if I did, I doubted I had the energy to cook. I looked in the refrigerator just in case a magic food fairy had come during the night and left me a gift. Nope, empty. Not even any beer was left. It appears my guests had thoroughly enjoyed my hospitality.
What a hell of a housewarming. Mission accomplished. Trash my asshole father’s condo. Next stage, make him pissed. With my ibuprofen yet to start to kick in, I went back into my room and dialed my father’s number.