#kintsugiseries

South Central L.A.

Thanks to the power of twitter, I got picked in a contest and received a review for my query and first 5 pages of the #kinstugiseries . I am so glad and hopeful for this. Dad would be proud of me. Thanks for making my day! @etteluap74  

"I hope you get hazard pay for having to up with her on a daily basis." "Nahh, I just collect whatever hair that falls from her head and build vodoo dolls with cemetary earth and let them ready to be microwaved later." "You are not serious, are you? You are lying." "Do I look like I am lying?" "I honestly can't tell. You are a crazy Brazilian bitch." "Always crazy. It's a family trait, my dear. I come from a long line of lunatics." "I wanna die your friend." "You will." "Will what?" "Die." "Kezia!"

Kez, Kintsugi excerpt (Kintsugi series book I)

"Sometimes the love of your life comes right after the mistake of your life. Some people are not the final destination, they are just part of the journey." Craig started to clean up the coffee table of his room, in a vain attempt to bring some sort of order to a house thta screamed loudly of lonely man living alone without a woman in his life. I slowly walked around his living room, my feet immediately bringing me closer to the ikea hanging shelves on his wall where a respectable collection of books were hazardly thrown without any sense of aesthetic order. Some were obviously more used than others, their spines broken from being constantly opened. I reverently ran my hands on the spines as I distractedly read their titles. "That must suck. Big time." "Not necessarily. Just because they were not the real deal, that does not diminish their importance in our lives. They are still there, part of our memories, participating in the intertwined fabric of our history." Craig stopped with a bunch of dirty dishes in his hands on the way to the kitchen, his gaze briefly sliding over my back before walking to deposit the dishes in their place in the kitchen sink. "The fact that they don't stay doesn't make them less important." "And you are simply okay with it?" "I have to." His voice came muffed from the kitchen. "Otherwise I would go crazy. I have loved and was loved before. Got married. Had children. Got divorced. All the works. I had a wife that loved me who I loved in return. A job that paid the bills and gave me a fairly comfortable life. It was good." "But you are now here. Alone." I stated outloud the obvious, turning towards the kitchen as he leaned sideways and stared at me through the kitchen door, finding me standing there with folded arms. Craig chuckled self consciously before shaking his head and disappearing again in the kitchen. "Everyone commits mistakes. Some cannot be forgiven. And you have to learn how to live with it." "I see." I muttered under my breath as I turned my attention again to the shelves. I leaned my head sideways and started to read the names of the books on his overflowing bookshelves, silently going into book coma. As an avid reader, I have always judged people by the quality of the books on their shelves. And I was a disciple of the famous John Waters' quote that said that 'if you go home with someone and they don't have books, don't fuck them.' Smart man, John Waters. "Do you want some tea?" "I'm more a coffee person." I ran a finger on the spine of a thick book, Physiology and Ecology of Fish Migration, by Hiroshi Ueda and Katsumi Tsukamoto. I put my finger under the book spine stop and pulled it into my hands, opening it on the first page and finding a dedicatory from the authors to a Dr. Craig Ferguson, PhD. I heard footsteps behind me so I slapped the book shut, rushing to return it to its rightful place as Craig came to my side holding two cups with boiling hot beverages. He offered a chapped cup to me. The mysterious brown colored liquid slushing inside mine slightly smelt like coffee. "Sorry, I only have instant coffee." He handed me the cup, careful not to let the liquid overflow and burn the skin of my hands. "None of that fancy Colombian grain you are used to." I glanced with suspicion to the liquid before me, considering if I should take the risk on sipping it or not. Coming from a coffee producing country, and thanks to the fact that most of my church friends in Germany worked in some capacity in fancy coffee shops, I had become sort of a coffee snob. I smelled the liquid a bit, before glancing up and finding Craig sipping his own Earl Grey cuppa with a ironic smile on his thin lips. "I'm not gonna poison you, lass" "I only drink Brazilian coffee." "Snob." "With pride." I smirked and started sipping the liquid, which other than warm had no similarity of the rich brew I was used to drink. We kept our silence for a moment, staring at each other's eyes while we sipped our own hot beverages, taking the measure of the other in that moment. I smirked into the cup, before blowing into the liquid and taking another sip. "I have a question for you." Craig took another sip of his tea, before taking a step backwars and leaning against the back of his own tattered sofa. "Bring it on, lass." "What was the name of your mistake?" There was a brief moment of shock in his blue grey eyes, before he narrowed and lowered them  to his own cup of tea in silence. "What makes you think that my mistake had a name?" I almost snorted on my weak cup of coffee. "Don't they all?" He raised his eyes to me, taking a deep sip on his cup. I continued, unrelenting in my curiosity. "Besides, there are specific number of sins that a woman - a wife - will not forget. And the top one is a a younger woman with tiny waist and perky breasts." Craig sighed loudly, looked down into his cup and finding it empty, lowered it to his side before staring at me with a serious expression that I had not seen until then on him. "Chrystal." He muttered, defeated. "Her name was Chrystal." I stared at him for a moment and I could clearly see his discomfort with this line of questioning. I could go forward and make him even more uncomfortable or I could bring us back to our previous friendly bantering we had had so far. I chose the later. "Tiny waist? Perky breasts?" He chuckled, aware of my atempt of levity. He looked sideways, finally a self deprecating smile blossoming on his thin lips under his salt and pepper moustache. "Very tiny. Very perky." We both giggled for a moment, aware of the ridiculousness of the situation. "Do you regret it?" I whispered, aware that this sin had destroyed his marriage and led him to a solitary life in that cottage away from everyone and everything he had loved in his life before that day. "Everyday." He muttered, and I could hear clearly the brokenness of a man who had lost everything he held dear thanks to a stupid mistake. There was a small change in the air, and his gaze became warmer again. We smiled at each other softly, aware that at that point something had changed between us. I played with the cup in my hand, bringing his gaze down to the sloshing liquid in it. "Are you going to finish this?" I lowered my gaze to the cup. "It takes like shit." "Snob." He raised his hand and silently asked the cup out of my hand. I handed it over to him, and he brought both our cups towards the coffee table, leaving them there and ignoring the sloshing content that leaked from mine onto the old wood. He sighed loudly before turning towards me, his blue grey gaze burning in a way that gave me shivers. He finally came to some sort of decision, and then walked in resolute steps towards me, reducing the distance between us, before he finally stopped before me. Taking me in his arms, his right hand came up to gently touch my cheek, his gaze keeping me his prisioner. "Say a word, Kelpie, and I will stop." "I'm not a Kelpie, Craig." He chuckled, leaning his face towards mine, his lips almost touching mine. "For me," he whispered against my lips, "You'll always be a water fairy for me, lass." And then he kissed me.