Pulled By: A.L. Jackson *Guest Post - Excerpt - Review & GIveaway*

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Happy Sunday everyone! Thank you for stopping by! I'm just very glad to be a part of A.L. Jackson's Pulled Blog Tour. You will see an excellent Guest Post by Jackson, and this could definitely be Inspirational to you writers, or aspiring writers. There is also an Excerpt, that's from Chapter 1, and from Melanie's POV. You will also see my Review and you have a chance to win an E-Book Copy of this Fantastic read, so I hope you enter the Giveaway, because you never know, you might win! :)

Book Description

Pulled By: A.L. Jackson

Contemporary Romance

Published: 4/5/12

Publisher: Sapphire Star Publishing

Melanie Winters and Daniel Montgomery shared a love most only dream of, a love they believed bonded them together for life.  When their world is shattered by the tragic loss of their daughter, overwhelming grief and misguided guilt distorts the truth, and their relationship ends in uncertainty and unanswered questions. 

For nine years, they drift through life, each unable to forget the one who holds the strings to their heart.  In an attempt to escape the pain of her past, Melanie finds herself trapped in a loveless marriage, while Daniel loses himself in a career that means nothing without Melanie by his side.  

Now, when their lives again intersect, neither can deny the connection they felt so long ago.  

But will the power that drew them together be enough to heal the wounds from their past, and will they have the courage to overcome the insecurities and fears that threaten to keep them apart? 

Pulled is a story of attraction and separation, of destiny and duty, of a love so strong it refuses to give up even when all others have. 

Guest Post By A.L. Jackson

Hey all! I’m A. L. Jackson, author of Pulled and Take This Regret.  I want to thank Taking it One Page at a Time for asking me to share with you today on my 10 Tips On Becoming a Better Writer. 

I spent some time contemplating whether I wanted to focus on the overall picture and lifestyle of being a writer, or if I wanted to focus on craft. In the end I thought I’d give you a little of both.

So here it goes ~ A. L. Jackson’s 10 Tips to Becoming a Better Writer

1.  Never give up. Yes, this is a general philosophy that can be applied to almost any passion, but one that is essential to being a writer. If you’ve chosen writing or becoming an author as your passion and aspiration, then expect that there will be a lot of discouragement that will come with it. There will be times when it feels as if it is just not worth it. But there will also be times, like when you hold your published book in your hands, when it feels like the most amazing thing in the world.

2. Outline. If you’re writing your first book, I strongly recommend that you begin with an outline. It’s essential to know where you’re beginning, the direction you’re  heading, and your ultimate destination. Be sure that the plot makes sense and you can clearly see how you can take your reader on this journey. You’ll have plenty of space to allow your characters and plot to grow and develop as you write, but an outline will help you to stay on the right track.  After that first book, you should be able to tell if you’re a stronger writer with or without an outline.

3. Continue to read.  Read the classics, read the bestsellers, and read in your genre. Allow yourself to be inspired!

4. Find a critique partner you trust. I can’t emphasize this enough.  A critique partner can help you see the holes in your plot and characterization issues that we, as writers, can’t see.  Often these things are clear in our heads, but it may not come across that way to the reader.  Plus it’s so encouraging to have another writer friend who we can toss ideas around with and support each other in our writing.  On a side note: Be sure this critique partner’s interest is in helping you become a better writer and not in tearing you down.    

5. Look for common themes, words, and phrases in your manuscript.  Most authors have favorite words and phrases.   Identify them and be sure you don’t overuse them.

6. Get rid of those adverbs! I recommend doing a search through all the adverbs in your manuscript. If you can replace an adverb with strong verbs and descriptions instead (which you almost always can), do it.

7. Show, don’t tell.  Bet you haven’t heard that before J  Don’t tell us your character feels sad, but describe the scene unfolding that made brought on the sadness, the actions of the character in response to it, and give clear descriptions of what the character is experiencing and feeling.

8. Approach editing with an open mind.  Our first instinct as writers can be to be defensive of our work, but open your mind to suggestions given to you by your editor and/or critique partner.  Editors are there to help make our books better, not tear them apart. If you disagree with a suggestion, take the time to discuss it with your editor and see if the two of you can work together to create a good solution.

9. Don’t let formatting or punctuation marks tell your story for you.  Don’t overuse italics for emphasis or exclamation marks to show excitement.  Let your story speak for itself.

10. Continue to write.  The more you write, the better writer you’ll become.  Plus, you love it, right? So sit back and enjoy what you do.

Thank you again to Taking it One Page at a Time. Wishing you all much luck in your writing endeavors!   

Excerpt

I glanced at the clock.

     Shit—nearly six o’clock. I needed to hurry. I’d lost track of time and Nicholas would be home soon. I wiped the tears from my face before carefully gathering the pictures from the bedroom floor. My chest weighed heavy as I collected each one, cherishing the memories a moment longer as I tucked them away in the envelope.

     The memories were all I had and I clung to them as if they were my last breath, knowing that once they faded, there would truly be no reason to go on. I hid the envelope at the bottom of the large jewelry box in the back of the closet, mindful to spread the necklaces out over the hidden compartment. Nicholas had never found them, but I was certain he would destroy them if he ever did.

     Drawing in a deep breath, I ran my hands through my hair and dragged myself from the past I had immersed myself in for the last two hours and forced myself downstairs.

     My footsteps echoed against the marble floor, each an accent of emptiness. I entered the kitchen, the only sanctuary I had. Every room of this house was gaudy and overdone, designed by the pompous for the pompous, except for this haven. It was no less extravagant, but held a warmth missing from all of the others.

     As I worked, my thoughts inevitably wandered back to those beloved pictures hidden away in the back of my closet, but even they weren’t enough to ward off the anxiety steadily building within me as the passing minutes warned of Nicholas’s arrival. At six thirty-one, I heard the garage door open. Bile rose in my throat.

     “Melanie?” Nicholas called from the entryway.

     “In the kitchen,” I called weakly. Maybe he would go upstairs and spare me a few more minutes, but of course, I never had that kind of luck. I heard his footsteps approaching and prepared myself.

     “Dinner ready?” He yanked at his tie as he came through the door.

     “Um, not quite, just a couple more minutes,” I said, not meeting his face.

     I felt him pause, though I refused to look up. I’d learned a long time ago how to survive in hell. The less I interacted with him the better.

     He snorted through his nose, muttering, “Worthless whore,” under his breath.

     I gritted my teeth, holding in the anger his accusation triggered.

     He set his briefcase on the island next to me and tossed his tie over the top of it. “What time do I get home from work, Melanie?” Nicholas dipped his head, forcing me to look at him.

     “Six-thirty.”

     “Is it too much to ask that dinner is ready when I get home?” he said, “or do you have something better to do with your useless life?”

     I cringed but said nothing. He was the one who didn’t want me to work.

     “I didn’t think so.” He leaned in closer, his words a low warning. “When I tell you dinner needs to be ready at six-thirty, it means dinner is to be ready at six-thirty. Do you understand?”

     I saw the threat in his eyes. He had never hurt me physically, but he made sure I knew who was in charge. I’d given up any control nine years ago when I’d followed him here to Chicago, looking for an escape from the pain.

     I knew then what this life would be like. I’d met him at the airport when I’d fled Colorado that final time, the trip that severed the last thread holding my heart together.

     Nicholas hadn’t seen the broken girl who sat numb with nothing but pain swimming in her eyes. He saw the young, beautiful girl, the one who said nothing at all but seemed to be willing to do whatever he said.

     I wasn’t stupid. I had known exactly what he wanted, but I could never go back to Colorado Springs to face what I could no longer have, and I refused to stay with my mother in Dallas.

     So I left all of it behind, moving with Nicholas to Chicago just days after I returned from Colorado.

     I knew then Nicholas would never bring me happiness. That had never been the point. My heart belonged to another and would never be his. All I wanted was a way out, while Nicholas got the trophy wife he thought he deserved. The only thing I hadn’t anticipated was how the numbness I felt for him would evolve over nine years into bitterness and loathing.

     “I’m going upstairs to change, and I expect dinner to be on the table when I get back down here.” He had been this way since the first day I arrived; I had a role to play, and he expected me to play it well.

     When he left the room, I gathered our plates and took them into the dining room. I wasn’t really afraid of Nicholas, but I didn’t want to fight. It was exhausting and got me nowhere, and even if it did, I still wouldn’t be happy, so it really didn’t matter anyway. It was just easier to do what he said.

     Ten minutes later, I heard him returning. Just the sound of his heavy steps made my stomach turn. It still shocked me that I could feel so much hatred for one person. I watched him bound down the stairs, his tall body well muscled and agile for his forty-four years. His black hair hadn’t thinned and it was usually meticulously styled, though he obviously had run his hands through it. His eyes were nearly as dark as his hair and filled with unmerited pride. He may have been attractive, though that was something I could never see. His mere presence warned my instincts to escape, always smarter than my head.

     “About fucking time,” he spat, letting me know just how disappointing I was.

     Asshole.

     Taking a seat across from me, he lifted his fork and began to eat. I picked at my chicken, pushing it around my plate. I could rarely stomach anything when he was around.

     As he ate, I lost myself in the silence, my mind drawn back to Colorado.

     “We have a dinner Thursday,” he abruptly broke through the quiet, pulling me from my daydream. I had to run his words through my mind again before I realized what he had said.

     I closed my eyes, suppressing a sigh. Great. Another business dinner. It was the perfect time for me to play my part—the perfect wife with her perfect smile plastered across her perfect face, nodding mindlessly while her husband gave his proposal as if her presence would somehow change the outcome. The whole thing was ridiculous. It was part of my job though, so I nodded that I’d heard him and looked back to my plate.

     “This is a huge account, Melanie.” He sat back, eyeing me critically as if I didn’t already understand my role in this little charade. “It’s a medical complex that’ll bring in a couple million in profit, so I don’t want you fucking this up for me.”

     I almost laughed. Did he really think that my presence would sway the decision?

     Nicholas went on about details I really didn’t care to know, about how much money he would make and how much recognition his company would gain if they built this complex.

     The only comfort I found was in knowing Shane would be at the dinner. Shane Preston was Nicholas’s business partner and the nicest guy I knew. While Nicholas was cocky and arrogant and felt the world owed him, Shane was modest and thankful for all he had. He continually cleaned up the messes Nicholas caused, soothing clients’ nerves and regaining their trust after Nicholas had done something unethical.

     The dinner also meant that Katie, Shane’s wife, would be there. She was the one friend I had in this world. She knew the real me and was the only one I had ever taken into my confidence since I’d married Nicholas. Shane and Katie’s presence there would at least make the evening bearable.

     Nicholas finished his food, while I cleared the table and took the dishes into the kitchen. I was exhausted. I wondered how much more of this I could take. Surely, I would never survive this life sentence I’d imposed on myself. I loaded the dishwasher and went upstairs to take a bath.

     Turning the hot water valve full blast, I let it run, anxious to feel the heat relax my muscles. I unbuttoned my pants and slid them down, shrugging them off my feet. As I pulled my shirt over my head, my gaze reflexively dropped to my stomach as I caught my reflection in the mirror, my first instinct to seek out the marred skin that bore her wounds.

     I caressed along the puckered, angry scar that slanted in a long, jagged line across my lower abdomen, wishing she could somehow find comfort in my touch. Chills shook my body as I ran my fingers over the still sensitive skin and, just like every night, the bitterness and anger I found myself feeling faded away into sadness as I lost myself in this tangible reminder of my child. I loved her so much.

     Steam filled the room, and I eased myself into the water and allowed myself to drift back to Daniel. I missed him, almost more than I could bear. This was never supposed to have happened to us. We were supposed to make it—we should have made it.

     “Melanie, hurry up and get in here!” I cringed as Nicholas yelled from the bedroom.

     Shit. I’d hoped he’d be asleep by now.

     Reluctantly, I rose and pushed the memories aside. I wrapped myself in my robe, slow to finish my normal routine. I shouldn’t have been stalling; he’d wait. Still, I took my time as I brushed my teeth and ran a brush through my long brown curls. I inhaled deeply and took one last look at myself before going into the bedroom.

     “Don’t keep me waiting like that,” Nicholas rebuked from his place under the covers.

     This was by far the worst part of our arrangement. I couldn’t help but feel like a prostitute, cheating on my own heart, when I lay beneath this man. I crawled into bed next to him, praying he would at least have the decency to turn off the light.

     He untied the belt on my robe and groped my breast with his callused hand. My body roiled with disgust that he mistook as anticipation. “You like that, don’t you,” he growled as his foulness spread across my face. I fought against my instinct to flee and, instead, reached over to the bedside table and flicked off the lamp.

     The blackness enveloped the room, allowing me to remove myself mentally from the sick situation. I closed my eyes to find an image of Daniel—a flash of messy blond hair.

     “You’re mine.” Nicholas’s voice jerked me back into reality, making me acutely aware of his sweaty panting body hovering above me. I closed my eyes tighter, willing my mind away.

     “Melanie, my love. You’re so beautiful,” he said as he held my body against his, tender caresses igniting a fire deep within me.

     “Daniel,” was all I could manage as he made love to me, each touch a whisper across my skin. He gently kissed my neck as he moved against me, and I felt the pressure build with each stroke of his body.

     “Melanie, you feel so good,” he ground out, his voice rough with emotion.

     I couldn’t help the little moan that escaped my lips, the flash of desire that washed over my body as it remembered the way only Daniel could make me feel.

     “That’s right. I feel good, don’t I?” Nicholas grunted as he finished and collapsed with all of his weight on me.

     The nausea swept through me, and I pushed Nicholas away. “I need to clean up,” I choked over my standard excuse as I rushed to the bathroom. I fell to my knees at the toilet, desperate to purge away the hate I had for myself. The act only left me feeling more empty and alone.

     Holding onto the vanity for support, I pulled myself up to stand. I rinsed my mouth and splashed water on my face—anything to make me feel clean again—but there was nothing that could wash away the shame.

     I stared at myself in the mirror, the reflection no longer one I recognized. The girl I remembered was seventeen—full of life and love. The one staring back at me may as well have been dead. The only life left flickered in the periphery of my consciousness where a familiar comfort waited in the darkness. As I climbed into bed, I grasped for it, desperate to feel him for one moment more. 

Review

This was a wonderful, heartbreaking, gut-wreching, but oh so ever, sweet and loving story. You just know that Melanie and Daniel are meant to be, but there are so many obstacles that come between them, and those rifts first started when they were young teens. A horrific situation happened to these soul mates, that eventually separated them... for Nine Long Years. Now they are in their late twenties, and they are brought together again, but there is still so much mixed/past emotions, and there are new situations that come in their way. Can these two even look at each other in the face when they eventually re meet? Is their too much in their past that prevents them to move forward together? Will they be pulled apart again?...

This was such a great read! It really was! I felt so many emotions, while reading, and I love feeling like that as it just brings me closer to the story, to the characters. There are some great moments here, including from the past, when Melanie and Daniel first meet. Speaking about the past, I thought the flashback excerpts were really helpful, and they made me understand their history, their relationship much much better I love that we read from both Melanie and Daniel's POV. That too was great, as we read the decisions they made, and some are seen as mistakes, so you read what made them do this or that, so its pretty clear reading the two POVs.

Now, I do not want to give too much, as there are definitely some twists and turns here, so be prepared for that! What I enjoyed, though, were the two main characters. Melanie has, in a way, been on her own, especially these past nine years with an older and somewhat controlling husband. That guy, Nicholas, was a jerk. Plain and simple. The stuff he does to Melanie are just uncalled for, and you'll see what I mean. I do think that Melanie's character does strengthen, and again you'll read how. Now to Daniel...he is such a perfect guy. Ok maybe not perfect, as he has made mistakes (who doesn't!) but honestly, how he is with Melanie; oh man there were just sweet and tender moments there; moments you could just feel throughout the pages. He is just so wonderful with her. They sincerely are meant to be. As mentioned, Daniel has made some mistakes, including a big one, before he re meets Melanie, but you'll see that 'mistake' turn into being something pretty special; you might say a lovely miracle...

I have read A.L. Jackson's other Novel: Taking Regret, and that story, and this one, has incredible writing! I really love Jackson's writing style, and how she makes you feel connected to a character. For me, I just love that. Pulled is one great, romantic, emotional, and pulling read that makes tearful misunderstandings have the possibility to brighten up somehow, and you'll just have to read this story, to see what happens, you just gotta! I look forward to reading more of this Author's work, and what I got left to write is, I very much Recommend this Novel!

My Rating: 4.5/5
I would say R-Rated


About The Author

A.L. Jackson first found a love for writing during her days as a young mother and college student.  She filled the journals she carried with short stories and poems used as an emotional outlet for the difficulties and joys she found in day-to-day life.

Years later, she shared a short story she’d been working on with her two closest friends and, with their encouragement, this story became her first full length novel. A.L. now spends her days writing in Southern Arizona where she lives with her husband and three beautiful children. Her favorite pastime is spending time with the ones she loves. 

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*Disclosure of Material Connection: I am a member of Reading Addiction Blog Tours and a copy of this book was provided to me by the author. Although payment may have been received by Reading Addiction Blog Tours, no payment was received by me in exchange for this review. There was no obligation to write a positive review. All opinions expressed are entirely my own and may not necessarily agree with those of the author, publisher, publicist, or readers of this review. This disclosure is in accordance with the Federal Trade Commision’s 16 CFR, Part 255, Guides Concerning Use of Endorcements and Testimonials in Advertising*