Excerpt: Little Lies - Vilma Iris | Lifestyle Blogger

I don’t want you.
You mean nothing to me.
I never loved you.
I turned my words into swords.
And I cut her down. Shoved the blade in and watched her fall.
I said I’d never hurt her and I did.
Years later I’m faced with all the little lies, the untruths, the false realities, the damage I inflicted when all I wanted was to indulge in my obsession.
Lavender Waters is the princess in the tower. Even her name is the thing fairy tales are made of.
I used to be the one who saved her.
Over and over again.
But I don’t want to save her anymore.
I just want to pretend the lies are still the truth.

Book Type:

Contemporary Romance

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Excerpt: Little Lies
By H. Hunting

Excerpt: Little Lies

With LITTLE LIES, bestselling author Helena Hunting, writing as H. Hunting, delivers an emotional, angst-ridden novel about two soulmates who struggle with pain and trauma. This friends-to-enemies-to-lovers story is getting tons of buzz already and I cannot wait to read it! Devour the excerpt below—it’s out today!

My dad is quiet for so long that I sneak a peek at him. He’s rubbing his forehead, head bowed in something that looks a lot like defeat. “What happens when you’re in high school next year, and she’s still in middle school?”

I don’t want to talk about next year. “River will be there.”

It’s weird. They’re twins, but he can’t help her when she’s in that state. She says it’s because she feels his frustration at not understanding.

“He wasn’t there today, and it wasn’t him she messaged, was it?” my dad asks.

“Maybe she messaged him before me, but I answered first.”

“Maybe, but I have a feeling that’s not what’s been happening. This is getting worse, not better, and it has been for some time now.”

I bite the inside of my cheek again, not wanting to acknowledge the truth.

“What happens if she messages you next year, looking for your help? What are you going to do when your high school is miles away from here?”

My legs start bouncing, even though I try to push them down and keep my feet flat on the floor. My head is spinning, my thoughts out of control. All I can see is Lavender curled up in a ball somewhere I can’t get to her—a black void I can’t reach into and pull her out of.

Suddenly it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the car. I clench and release my fists, aware there are things I can do to stop this, but I’m unable to find the will to use any of them. Instead, I let the panic take over, washing through me like a toxin.

“Shit,” my dad mutters.

He puts his hand on my shoulder, but I shake him off and yell, “Don’t!”

By the time we pull into the driveway, I’m itching to get out of my skin. My dad barely has the SUV in park, and I’m already running through the garage. I want to be alone with my thoughts so I can spiral in peace.

But my mom is right there, blocking the way up the stairs. Her expression makes the guilt almost unmanageable. So much disappointment.

And fear.

I don’t know what the fear is about. Is she scared of me, for me?

I press my palms against my temples—the headache already starting—screw my eyes closed so I can’t see her face, and grip my hair. Anything to distract me from the jumble of thoughts slicing through my brain.

What if I’m not there next year?

What if they separate us?

What if I stop being able to fix things?

What if someone else is better at helping her than me?

Black spots form in my vision, and I keep fighting to breathe.

“Kodiak, honey, you need to sit down.” My mom grabs me by the shoulders. “RJ, your help, please.”

Two strong hands grip me under my arms, and I sink to the floor.

My head is swimming. It’s too full. I just want Lavender to be okay.

“This is out of control,” my dad says.

“Queenie’s on her way over.” My mom’s warm palm rests against my cheek.

“What about—” My dad doesn’t finish the sentence, but I think he wants to know about Lavender, and so do I.

My mom doesn’t answer the unasked question directly. “I don’t know what to do anymore,” she says. “I don’t know how to help them.”

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