Madness
By J.L. Vallance
Blurb:
I never wanted to fall in love.
I lived a life tainted by mental illness and the stigma that came with it. That illness almost claimed my life once and I had a promise to keep¬¬, a promise that I would live, no matter how much it hurt. All I craved in life was marginal happiness, a little success, and an unfractured mind. I longed for the normalcy that the rest of the world thrived on while fearing the intimacy that could snap the thin thread with which I held onto sanity.
I may not have had it all, but I was close...until he crashed into my world.
He turned everything upside down and shifted the scales of my balanced world. He was charming and charismatic with a healthy dash of trouble and volatility rolled in. He was completely and perfectly damaged. I tumbled hard and fast.
I fell in love with Rory O’Neill and our world was little more than madness....and it was fucking beautiful.
Available for purchase at
Madness is a twisted love story that made me laugh, cry and want to throat punch someone. Frankie is one of those characters that seems to be more than just a made up person. Frankie is written amazingly well and Rory is one persistent guy who pulls at your heart strings. They are two broken pieces to one amazing soul. Madness will open eyes to those who are hurt and broken; possibly even find love in those you would have never thought about before.
Excerpt
“What do you want from me, O’Neill?”
Rory released a heavy sigh, leaning back
in the chair. He studied me carefully, as if he were attempting to solve a
puzzle. He could try for the rest of his life; I was one jigsaw he’d never be
able to solve.
in the chair. He studied me carefully, as if he were attempting to solve a
puzzle. He could try for the rest of his life; I was one jigsaw he’d never be
able to solve.
“To date you,” he replied simply, and I
belted out a laugh.
belted out a laugh.
“Why?” I asked, continuing without
allowing for an answer. “You are the type that goes on dates to get the prize
at the end. You got the prize, buddy. You didn’t even have to work for it. If
you are coming back because you think I’m a big skank-bank and you can get a
withdrawal whenever you want, you’ve got the wrong girl.”
allowing for an answer. “You are the type that goes on dates to get the prize
at the end. You got the prize, buddy. You didn’t even have to work for it. If
you are coming back because you think I’m a big skank-bank and you can get a
withdrawal whenever you want, you’ve got the wrong girl.”
It was his turn to laugh. It was an
erotic sound that put my already frayed nerves on a higher, more precarious
edge than they had been. I followed his posture and leaned back, but instead of
holding my stomach in gut busting laughter, I crossed my arms over my chest.
erotic sound that put my already frayed nerves on a higher, more precarious
edge than they had been. I followed his posture and leaned back, but instead of
holding my stomach in gut busting laughter, I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Is that what you think this is?” he
gasped. “Christ, I could have slept with at least seventy women since you.”
gasped. “Christ, I could have slept with at least seventy women since you.”
“Is that supposed to win me over?”
“Yes,” he answered seriously. “I have no
problem picking women up.”
problem picking women up.”
I didn’t doubt that. Hadn’t since the
night I’d met him. It was the charisma, the mega-watt smile, the sultry
sex-filled voice. His body, smile, voice, and touch promised a good night in
the making if one simply took his hand.
night I’d met him. It was the charisma, the mega-watt smile, the sultry
sex-filled voice. His body, smile, voice, and touch promised a good night in
the making if one simply took his hand.
I want to
take his fucking hand. . .
take his fucking hand. . .
“Good, then you won’t be alone tonight,”
I replied, moving to rise from the table when he reached out and grabbed my
arm, stopping me.
I replied, moving to rise from the table when he reached out and grabbed my
arm, stopping me.
“I don’t want other women, Francesca. I
want you,” he said, the smile missing from his face.
want you,” he said, the smile missing from his face.
“I’ve wanted nothing but you since
November.”
November.”
I shook my head.
“I’m not like other women, Mr. O’Neill.”
“Please, call me—”
“Rory, it doesn’t matter what I call you.
The message will remain the same.”
The message will remain the same.”
“Didn’t you ever stop to think that maybe
that’s what I like about you?” he countered.
that’s what I like about you?” he countered.
No, no I didn’t. Being different is what
set me apart—in a bad way. That’s what makes people dislike me. Not that I mind that—being disliked. I’ve spent the
majority of my life being different,
being an outsider. I am the woman that I am, with the issues I have, and that
fact will never change. I’m proud of the obstacles I have overcome and look
forward to defeating the ones that are waiting in the wings.
set me apart—in a bad way. That’s what makes people dislike me. Not that I mind that—being disliked. I’ve spent the
majority of my life being different,
being an outsider. I am the woman that I am, with the issues I have, and that
fact will never change. I’m proud of the obstacles I have overcome and look
forward to defeating the ones that are waiting in the wings.
“You don’t know me to know whether you
like me or not,” I argued. My dad had always told me I’d be great for the
debate team.
like me or not,” I argued. My dad had always told me I’d be great for the
debate team.
“I know what I felt with you.”
“You felt tequila,” I replied. “And my
vagina. Go find some Cuervo and a willing participant and repeat.”
vagina. Go find some Cuervo and a willing participant and repeat.”
“First, I have a high tolerance. That
tequila barely touched me. Quit trying to downplay what happened between us.
Take a little responsibility.”
tequila barely touched me. Quit trying to downplay what happened between us.
Take a little responsibility.”
“Ha!” I belted, placing a hand over my
mouth. “Listen, we had a really great time. But I don’t date, I don’t do
romance or happily ever after. That’s not written in my stars.”
mouth. “Listen, we had a really great time. But I don’t date, I don’t do
romance or happily ever after. That’s not written in my stars.”
“What is written in your stars?” he asked
with a quirk of the brow.
with a quirk of the brow.
“A bright future with me, myself, and I.”
About the Author
J. L. Vallance is a wife, mom, and nurse by day, while posing as a writer by night. Plagued with an overactive imagination, a lover of all things supernatural in nature, she has an extraordinary flair for the dramatic that adds flavor to life. There’s little in her world that Otis Redding and buttercream icing can’t fix. And of course, coffee always helps too. True story.
Giveaway
One single anchor bracelet
One anchor and infinity bracelet
One anchor necklace with stamped pendant that says "You are my anchor".
One necklace with a gun charm and a stamped pendant that says "I keep a close watch on this of mine".
And two ecopies of Madness
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