Today we have an excerpt from LESSONS IN PURE LIFE! Make sure you check it out!
Lessons in Pure Life Synopsis: Freshly minted grad Emilia Noble arrives in Costa Rica to teach English in the tropical community of Pacifica. Its carefree, pura vida lifestyle is a welcome contrast to her dark and wintry origins. Tossing caution aside like an old winter coat, she plunges headfirst into an exotic cocktail of sensory pleasure. Diego is a local whose surfer body and cool detachment make Lia buzz with a long-lost thrill. Fascinated by her new environment, she can’t help but wonder about the moody inner workings of the boy with triceps like Wolverine and a grimace to match. Diego seems to have no problem ignoring Lia, though. Caught up in his family’s conflicted attitude toward foreigners, he notices her only when it’s convenient. But as Lia thrives in her new surroundings, Diego might just find reason enough to defy his embattled, insular father. When north and south are mixed together, the results are intoxicating.
Diego pulls over onto the shoulder and stops the bike. I’m still clinging to him, and in the sudden silence it all seems too intimate.
I peel away from him and dismount, stumbling, startled at the way my legs tremble. I yank the helmet off, and the wind is heaven on my sweaty neck. Tipping my head back like I would do coming out of the shower, I twist my hair up and knot it on top of my head. A shiver of delight flits through me as the breeze licks my bare skin.
Diego has removed his helmet and is observing me. My dress is all twisted from the treacherous ride, and the left side of my white bikini top is exposed. I can feel my skin pinch as it reacts to the sudden chill. His gaze hovers on the thin, revealing fabric, but there isn’t much I can do about it. My head’s in a haze from the ride.
He’s unapologetic, without any sign of approval or distaste. It’s irritating, and for a minute I feel clouded by my ego. It’s primitive, this reaction I have to him. It’s primal, lustful, and passionate. But I need to be careful. I don’t know him.
All I know is his rudeness, his bluntness, his cold stare. A wave of panic passes through me like a haunted spirit and I shiver.
He walks the bike a few feet into the forest on the side of the road, leans it against a thick tree, and then leans himself against another.
“What are you doing?” I ask, looking down the road.
“What? When?” I demand, turning back to him.
He raises his eyebrows, like When do you think?
I feel a fat splat of cold water hit my shoulder and my eyes widen. Another one hits me on top of the head.
“How did you know?”
“I can smell.” He leans back against a tree smugly, watching me get splattered as the rain starts.
I’m surprised at how quickly the day turned cool and rainy. In seconds it’s pouring and I’m getting soaked. I try to find somewhere dry to stand, but even Diego’s hair is wet, standing in the woods. The bike seems reasonably well-protected, at least.
“Stand here.” He gestures for me to move next to him with a subtle nod, barely disguising an eye roll.
I walk over and lean against it, a little better protected now. God, the wet wind feels good on my skin. It’s coming down so hard that I can’t see the other side of the road. Diego and I are in a rushing, whispering world of rain on leaves and branches. Water drips from my hair down my back, and my damp dress hugs my body.
Next to me, Diego leans his head back against the smooth bark. He’s covered in droplets that snake down his chest and arms in rivulets. I must be thirsty because I imagine what it would be like to drink the rain off of his body, like an animal.
Audrey O’Connor can’t help but color outside the lines with big, bright markers. She’s fascinated by the influence of popular culture on the female experience and inspired by creative boldness and the breaking of the dumb rules women are supposed to follow. Audrey lives in Chelsea, Quebec, where she can be found DJ-ing at local events or scanning a cafe for outlets for her laptop. Tryst Books |Website | Facebook | Twitter | Tumblr | Goodreads | Pinterest | Google+