Cassie to the Coast
I was going to the coast, she was going to the coast, and then things got complicated ...

This is a modern-day love story set in Oregon, USA. Four parts (all are included). Approximately 37,500 words (novella length)

Excerpt:

Cassandra, next to me, muttered something in her sleep. Whatever she was dreaming, it wasn’t good. A second later she shouted “No!” and sat half upright.

She blinked and looked around and saw me. Her cap had fallen off while she slept, and her hair looked kind of wild and she seemed a little disoriented. She looked kind of cute that way. I smiled.

She grabbed the rear-view mirror and twisted it to look into it, then ran her fingers through her hair until it was mostly orderly, and then she found her cap and jammed it back onto her head. “Seen enough?” she challenged.

No, I thought. I guess she didn’t like being caught with her guard down.

I did notice, though, as she was straightening her hair, that her left ear had about six piercings, but only the bottom one had an earring in it. I wondered if she lost the others, or if she’d outgrown them.

To put her at ease, or to start a conversation or something, I asked, “You have a bad dream?”

She looked at me, trying to decide if she should answer, I guess, then she said “Yeah,” and turned her attention out the right-side window, to shut me out I suppose.
We were following a motor home down a winding section of roadway, again not unusual for the coast range. She turned to me and said, “Do you ever dream about dying?”

I looked at her. “No. Do you?”

She looked out the front window. “Yeah. All the time.” There was a pause, and then she added, “I don’t sleep so good.”

She didn’t elaborate. I wondered, What am I, a magnet for nuts or something? Some guys are chick magnets, I’m a nut magnet.

She turned to look at me, then she pulled her arm out from her shoulder belt and slowly reached over and put her fingers on my chest, right over my heart, and then she pressed her whole hand flat onto me. I glanced down as she did this, but I said nothing. Then she took her hand away slowly and closed her fingers as if she wanted to not lose something. She asked, “If you were going to die, would you want to be warned ahead of time?”

“Well, yeah, sure. Then I could do something about it, so that it wouldn’t happen.”

“So then, something you would do would prevent you from dying, at least in that way, and you would live longer, and later die some other way. Because all of us, all of us are going to die some day.”

I glanced at her. Oh, great. Nuttier and nuttier.

She was looking right at me when I thought this, and I hoped she couldn’t see what I was thinking.

She said, quite calmly, as if to allay my fear, “It’s not me who is going to kill you. Not today.”
...
1121147508
Cassie to the Coast
I was going to the coast, she was going to the coast, and then things got complicated ...

This is a modern-day love story set in Oregon, USA. Four parts (all are included). Approximately 37,500 words (novella length)

Excerpt:

Cassandra, next to me, muttered something in her sleep. Whatever she was dreaming, it wasn’t good. A second later she shouted “No!” and sat half upright.

She blinked and looked around and saw me. Her cap had fallen off while she slept, and her hair looked kind of wild and she seemed a little disoriented. She looked kind of cute that way. I smiled.

She grabbed the rear-view mirror and twisted it to look into it, then ran her fingers through her hair until it was mostly orderly, and then she found her cap and jammed it back onto her head. “Seen enough?” she challenged.

No, I thought. I guess she didn’t like being caught with her guard down.

I did notice, though, as she was straightening her hair, that her left ear had about six piercings, but only the bottom one had an earring in it. I wondered if she lost the others, or if she’d outgrown them.

To put her at ease, or to start a conversation or something, I asked, “You have a bad dream?”

She looked at me, trying to decide if she should answer, I guess, then she said “Yeah,” and turned her attention out the right-side window, to shut me out I suppose.
We were following a motor home down a winding section of roadway, again not unusual for the coast range. She turned to me and said, “Do you ever dream about dying?”

I looked at her. “No. Do you?”

She looked out the front window. “Yeah. All the time.” There was a pause, and then she added, “I don’t sleep so good.”

She didn’t elaborate. I wondered, What am I, a magnet for nuts or something? Some guys are chick magnets, I’m a nut magnet.

She turned to look at me, then she pulled her arm out from her shoulder belt and slowly reached over and put her fingers on my chest, right over my heart, and then she pressed her whole hand flat onto me. I glanced down as she did this, but I said nothing. Then she took her hand away slowly and closed her fingers as if she wanted to not lose something. She asked, “If you were going to die, would you want to be warned ahead of time?”

“Well, yeah, sure. Then I could do something about it, so that it wouldn’t happen.”

“So then, something you would do would prevent you from dying, at least in that way, and you would live longer, and later die some other way. Because all of us, all of us are going to die some day.”

I glanced at her. Oh, great. Nuttier and nuttier.

She was looking right at me when I thought this, and I hoped she couldn’t see what I was thinking.

She said, quite calmly, as if to allay my fear, “It’s not me who is going to kill you. Not today.”
...
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Cassie to the Coast

Cassie to the Coast

by Peyton Reese
Cassie to the Coast

Cassie to the Coast

by Peyton Reese

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Overview

I was going to the coast, she was going to the coast, and then things got complicated ...

This is a modern-day love story set in Oregon, USA. Four parts (all are included). Approximately 37,500 words (novella length)

Excerpt:

Cassandra, next to me, muttered something in her sleep. Whatever she was dreaming, it wasn’t good. A second later she shouted “No!” and sat half upright.

She blinked and looked around and saw me. Her cap had fallen off while she slept, and her hair looked kind of wild and she seemed a little disoriented. She looked kind of cute that way. I smiled.

She grabbed the rear-view mirror and twisted it to look into it, then ran her fingers through her hair until it was mostly orderly, and then she found her cap and jammed it back onto her head. “Seen enough?” she challenged.

No, I thought. I guess she didn’t like being caught with her guard down.

I did notice, though, as she was straightening her hair, that her left ear had about six piercings, but only the bottom one had an earring in it. I wondered if she lost the others, or if she’d outgrown them.

To put her at ease, or to start a conversation or something, I asked, “You have a bad dream?”

She looked at me, trying to decide if she should answer, I guess, then she said “Yeah,” and turned her attention out the right-side window, to shut me out I suppose.
We were following a motor home down a winding section of roadway, again not unusual for the coast range. She turned to me and said, “Do you ever dream about dying?”

I looked at her. “No. Do you?”

She looked out the front window. “Yeah. All the time.” There was a pause, and then she added, “I don’t sleep so good.”

She didn’t elaborate. I wondered, What am I, a magnet for nuts or something? Some guys are chick magnets, I’m a nut magnet.

She turned to look at me, then she pulled her arm out from her shoulder belt and slowly reached over and put her fingers on my chest, right over my heart, and then she pressed her whole hand flat onto me. I glanced down as she did this, but I said nothing. Then she took her hand away slowly and closed her fingers as if she wanted to not lose something. She asked, “If you were going to die, would you want to be warned ahead of time?”

“Well, yeah, sure. Then I could do something about it, so that it wouldn’t happen.”

“So then, something you would do would prevent you from dying, at least in that way, and you would live longer, and later die some other way. Because all of us, all of us are going to die some day.”

I glanced at her. Oh, great. Nuttier and nuttier.

She was looking right at me when I thought this, and I hoped she couldn’t see what I was thinking.

She said, quite calmly, as if to allay my fear, “It’s not me who is going to kill you. Not today.”
...

Product Details

BN ID: 2940150299924
Publisher: Jessica Willowby, LLC
Publication date: 02/02/2015
Sold by: Barnes & Noble
Format: eBook
File size: 1 MB

About the Author

Peyton Reese writes Science Fiction, Present-day, and Historical fiction. Each story includes a strong romantic element.

For more information, visit the author's web site at www.PeytonReese.com

Peyton is also co-author (with Jessica Willowby) of the Marguerite series of historical love stories. You can learn more about the Marguerite Series at the official web site, www.JessicaWillowby.com
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