Not Enough
By Mia Hoddell
Genre: Upper
YA/NA Contemporary Romance
Release Date: November 16th 2015
Pages: 324
Blurb
Neve Colvin isn’t
good enough. As an introvert, her life is a never-ending list of labels and
criticism. Pressures to change come from everyone—including the one person she
thought would love her unconditionally … her mother. All Neve wants is
acceptance, but surrounded by extroverts it’s a wish that’s nearly impossible
to fulfil.
For Neve there’s
only one solution: anyone disapproving must go. Even if it means only one
person will remain.
That person is her
lifelong friend Blake Reynolds. He’s seen the fights with her mum, the
breakdowns caused by attacks on her personality, and the battles for
acceptance. Each time she is left shattered and questioning who she is, he’s
the one to collect the pieces of her broken heart. Shielding her from the
cruelty is his only concern. But how can he protect her when Neve is concealing
a secret so dark?
Blake thinks he
knows everything about her, and with their relationship developing, he assumes
Neve trusts him fully. However, there is one memory Neve is too ashamed of to
share. Revealing it will test Blake’s loyalty beyond what she could ever ask,
and Blake is the only friend she can’t afford to lose. He’s the one person
capable of dragging her from the darkness plaguing her, but with pressures to
conform increasing, even Blake may not be enough to pull her back this time.
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What reviewers are saying:
"From the
dedication at the beginning up to the end this was both a thought provoking and
an emotional read for me and I loved it!" - Sandra @ JeanzBookReadNReview
"This story
tugged at my heartstrings, played on my every emotion. It was a beautifully
written story of how an introverted young girl blossoms into a beautiful young
woman." - Keren Hughes, Author of
Nothing Like The First Time
"A
heartbreaking read that sometimes had me close to tears." - Susan @ Ladies Living in Bookland
"Heartbreaking.
Powerful. Real ... I literally lived the pages, not read them ... It's so well
and beautifully written, it is more than just another YA novel." - Cristina @ Crazy Beautiful Reads
About the Author
#1 Amazon bestselling
author Mia Hoddell lives in the UK with her family and two cats. She spends
most of her time writing or reading, loves anything romantic, and has an
overactive imagination that keeps her up until the early hours of the morning.
Mia has written over ten titles including her Seasons of Change series, the Chequered Flag series, the Elemental Killers series, and her standalone novels False Finder and Not Enough.
Mia has written over ten titles including her Seasons of Change series, the Chequered Flag series, the Elemental Killers series, and her standalone novels False Finder and Not Enough.
Her favourite
genres are contemporary romance or romantic suspense, and with an ever growing
list of ideas she is trying to keep up with the speed at which her imagination
generates them. She also designs book covers on her website M Designs.
You can follow Mia on:
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Excerpts (please only pick 1)
#1
“What are you doing?” I manage to get out around
my laughs. She tenses at my words and then tilts her head back to fix me with a
glare, her eyes blazing with irritation.
“I’m sleeping in
the bath like I said I would. Why, what did you think I was doing? Teaching
myself to swim?”
“I know what
you’re doing. I think that’s obvious. What I meant was why are you doing this?” I step into the room and move in front of
her so she doesn’t have to crane her neck to see me.
“You know why.”
“You’re not
sleeping in here, Stripes.”
“Watch me.”
I cross my arms.
There’s no way I’m going back to bed and allowing her to sleep in a bath. The
only problem is that it’s hard to maintain a frustrated expression when
everything about the situation is so damn funny. “Be back in a second.”
She mumbles
something that sounds like “I’m not going anywhere” to my back as I rush out of
the bathroom. Rummaging in my drawer, I find what I’m looking for then I’m back
in the room with Neve in seconds.
Before she can
react, I have a camera in front of me.
“Smile,” I
tease, only it causes her glower to darken. Three lines appear on her forehead
as her face screws up.
“Delete that
now.”
“Nope. Get out
of the bath and I might let you.”
“I’m not getting
out. I told you I’m sleeping here.”
“Why all the
drama? We’ve slept in the same bed for ages now. It’s not a big deal.” She
rolls over, showing me her back, and ignores me. “Stripes, get out of the
bath.”
“Night, Blake.”
If she thinks
I’m going to give up that easy, she’s got another surprise coming. She should
know by now that I don’t give up and people don’t say no to me. I put the
camera on the counter by the sink, needing both of my hands.
Carefully, so as
not to reveal my intentions, I lean over the bath and line up my hands. With
one swift motion, I grip her tightly, heaving her out of the tub and throwing
her over my shoulder as she screams, “Put me down, Blake!”
“I told you,
you’re not sleeping in a bath. Now shut up and stop hitting my back.” My light
and jovial words only serve to make her flail around even more. I manage to pin
her legs, but I’m powerless to do anything to stop her hands pounding against
my back. It’s not enough to hurt, that’s not her intention, but the squirming
is becoming increasingly frustrating.
When I reach the
bed, I drag her back over my shoulder and dump her on the mattress. She
bounces, not able to hide the laughter on her face while she stares at me and
hiccups. This is how I like to see her, carefree and happy. It’s rare nowadays
that I catch a glimpse of Neve when she’s truly happy, but in this moment there
isn’t a strained muscle in her body. It’s natural, and I can’t stop myself from
watching her. I’m still amazed that I’m the one who can bring out her joy and
it baffles me that she’s allowed herself to be mine.
We remain gazing
at each other with ridiculous grins for a minute. When I’m sure she isn’t going
to run, I move around to my of the bed side. Her head follows me, and when I go
to climb in beside her, she rolls over. She throws her arms and legs out wide,
taking up the entire mattress.
“You’re in the bath then.” She points at
the door with the hand furthest away from me, a devilish twinkle in her eyes.
It takes me a while to respond. The sight of her body stretched out in her
skimpy pyjamas makes my throat dry, and I have to consciously remind myself to
swallow. My gaze focuses on her pale skin, which is exposed by her shirt riding
up and the top of her shorts lowering as a result of her actions.
“I don’t think
so.” My voice comes out more breathless than I expect as I watch her spread out
in front of me.
“Well, you’re
not sleeping in here with me.”
“My bed, my
rules.” I place one knee on the mattress and climb on. My arms support most of
my weight so my body is directly above hers. “So, I can either sleep on the
left … or on top of you.” My voice drops into a murmur and she gulps, her lips
parting as I hover over her. “Take your pick, Stripes.”
#2
“Come on, Neve.
Don’t do this.” He’s shaking his head in despair.
“Don’t do what?
What am I doing?”
“Pushing me
away. You’re too stubborn for your own good. You don’t have to do everything
yourself, you know. Let me in; I can help you.”
“Don’t you
start, too. There’s nothing wrong with me! Why does everyone think I’m
deficient, broken, or need fixing?”
“No, Neve. Do not lump me in with everyone else. You
know as well as I do that I don’t think any of that. You’re great as you are,
but you’re not happy. That’s all I want. I want to see you smile again like
when we were little. I haven’t heard you truly laugh in a long time.”
“Maybe if people
minded their own business and stopped telling me who I am is wrong then I would
be. But for now this is who I am.” I’m aware I’m being unfair, that my outburst
is unjust, but that’s how it comes out. There’s no controlling the words that
spew from my mouth. A part of my emotional dam has cracked and allowed them to
run free. For a moment it sounds like the one person who has stood by me is
joining the other side. He’s the only person I couldn’t take that from, and my
instinct is to defend myself.
Blake’s face
depicts both anger and hurt. Nonetheless, the anger is slowly winning as I push
him further than normal. He’s tense, his body stiff like the cold has frozen
him, but I know better. It’s my words that have cut him. He doesn’t deserve
them, yet I hurl them at him because he’s here … because he took the time to
care. He followed me without question because I needed a friend and this is how
I repay him.
“You know I have
nothing against who you are, Neve. When you wake up and realise that come and
find me.”
#3
“You’re not
broken, Neve.” I lower my head at his words, but his finger pulls my gaze back
to his. “You’re not.”
“Whatever, try
telling that to everyone else.”
“F*** their
opinions, Neve. You’re. Not. Broken. You’re not deficient or not good enough.
You’re stronger than you believe. So what if you’re quieter than the rest of
the people you’ve mixed with. That doesn’t make you any less funny, quick
witted, clever, beautiful, or a great friend to be around. You’ve been given a
hard time, but you’re still here fighting, and I’ll always be there beside
you.”
I tense at his
words, at how far from the truth they are. “I haven’t always. There have been
times where fighting was the furthest thing from my mind.” If only he knew how
far I’d taken things, he wouldn’t be sitting here complimenting me.
“Don’t be daft,
of course you are. You’re here, aren’t you? And you just pledged your undying
love to me.”
“I did no—” I
stop talking abruptly when I glance up and catch his teasing grin. “You’re
annoying.”
“It got a smile
out of you though.”
I bob my head
gently in agreement, thankful that the change of subject stopped me revealing
the one and only thing Blake doesn’t know.
#4
PROLOGUE
From: Neve Colvin
To: Neve Colvin
To: Neve Colvin
One word, four
letters. It sticks in my throat and refuses to come out. Maybe it’s not the
right time, or maybe I’m just scared. But it’s normal to be scared, right?
Saying that word isn’t something a person should undertake lightly. Once the
word is out, it can’t be reclaimed. Once it’s said it becomes real and actions
must follow.
Words can hurt—I
should know that well by now. They cut deeper than a knife, and the wounds last
longer even if they’re invisible. Some people will show off scars like they’re
a trophy, telling you the story behind each and every one no matter how boring
or traumatic the event was. The scars are like a brand to them, and I’m
thankful that the ones left by your words aren’t visible to the naked eye for
everyone to gawp at.
It doesn’t take
a psychopath, murderer, or unstable person to hurl words that are meant to
maim. Anyone can, and anyone does. They cut to the core, repeatedly stabbing
and twisting deeper into the heart. They play with peoples’ minds and no one
can see the consequences until it’s too late. A person can take a lot of verbal
abuse, but there’s always a limit.
Everyone breaks.
Everyone
crumbles.
Like a riverbank
that is battered repeatedly by the water, bits of me have been chipped off and
worn away. If you could see inside of me you’d notice I’m no longer whole, but
rather a scratched and scarred person who’s been pieced back together too many
times. I’m ugly on the inside. Fragments are missing, wounds are both fresh and
old; I’m bleeding and I can’t stop your latest comments from slicing me open
and adding to the unusual piece of artwork.
I’ve weathered a
lot of attacks, but I’ve finally reached my limit.
Saying it should
be easy. You’ve destroyed everything I’ve been working for, shattered every
dream, and broken the person I want to be. You’ve pushed me beyond my limit,
yet I can’t do it. I feel weak because of it. It makes me hate myself more.
That you have this kind of control over me when you don’t even care isn’t
right, but it is what it is.
A part of me
wants to say it. I want to convince
myself it’s the best solution. After all, you’re never going to change, are
you? What’s the point in sticking around to suffer more?
Regardless,
sitting here with salty tears dripping from my face I gaze out at the horizon
through blurred eyes. I haven’t been able to stop them since I ran out on you.
My eyeliner has long since stopped marking me with black trails, I’m now just
blotchy … a mess. My sleeves are incapable of drying my face, too wet to be of
any use, and I only have one tissue on me. Not that my body cares. The wounds
ripping open inside of me all over again refuse to allow the tears to stop, and
in a way I don’t want them to. It’s cathartic … the only way I can release what
you’ve done to me.
A chilly,
evening breeze hits my back and sends a shiver down my spine. It stirs the
edges of my zip-up hoodie, causing them to whip at my sides. Tendrils of hair
stick to my face from the water trails. The pieces that have escaped that fate
swarm around my head like a cluster of snakes. As strands catch my face in the
wind, it’s like they’re adding more poison to my already broken mind. I just
wish they’d numb it.
You did this.
It’s all your fault.
You’re
responsible for making me come out here to write this. I’m sitting here,
looking down at the river, watching as the current batters the water against
the rocks and wondering if it would feel as bad as what you’ve done. The amount
of water makes my tears seem small in comparison. In fact, my whole life seems
small. Because that’s what you think, isn’t it? It’s what everyone thinks of
me: that I’m weird, don’t fit in, don’t act normally. My choices aren’t good
enough for anyone. I was meant to have a chance like you said, but you couldn’t
even give me that. Instead you broke the one thing I wanted more than anything,
making it impossible.
I knew you were
mean, but I didn’t think you’d go that far.
It’s not
something you have to repeat on a daily basis either. I know I’m not the
daughter you wanted. I get that I’m a disappointment and fail you at every
turn, but it’s not something I strive for.
All I want is to
be accepted for who I am, but you can’t …
One word, four
letters. That’s all it is. Four tiny letters and everything will be solved for
me.
#
5
“If I ask you to
do something without telling you what it is, would you agree to it?” I carry a
bowl of popcorn into the living room and drop down on to the sofa next to
Blake. We left the Reynolds’ later than expected but still managed to make
excellent time in getting back to the flat—arriving home just after three in
the afternoon.
“If I say yes
are you going to test me?”
“You can’t
answer with a question, I asked you first.”
“But I want to
make sure I don’t trap myself into doing something ridiculous. If I say yes you
could ask me to do anything.”
“So you’re
saying no?”
He shrugs
non-committedly. “I think the better question is why you won’t tell me what
we’re doing. That alone is enough to raise red flags. It either means I won’t
like it or won’t agree with it.”
Damn, he knows
me too well. I don’t respond for a minute, trying to think of something to say
to persuade him to agree without me revealing what it is I want.
“Just spit it
out, Stripes. Tell me what you want.”
“You won’t like
it.”
“I already
figured that one out, remember?”
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