The Road Trip Rewind by Kate and Danny Tamberelli EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Kate and Danny Tamberelli
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2.2 MB
- Price: Free
Beatrix
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
“I’m begging you,” Rocco says, voice thick with passion and his electricblue gaze searing hot, even through the small monitor I’m pinned to behind
the director’s chair.
God, I hate how fucking blue his eyes are.
Hate how outrageously, undeniably talented he is. Hate that he’s making
me—of all people—believe every single word he’s saying on the set that so
perfectly mirrors my childhood living room, down to the radioactively
bright orange paisley curtains my mom had sewed herself and the highly
coveted lumpy brown leather La-Z-Boy recliner we fought over on family
movie nights, transporting me back to the most shameful moment of my
life.
“You know me, sweetie,” he says after a loaded pause, a scratchy, hitched
breath, “better than your own mother, probably. Better than anyone. You’re
my daughter, but you’re also my best friend. You get me. I get you. Always
have. So you know I couldn’t possibly have done this. I’m not a-a . . .
monster.” His voice cracks as he says it, his whole being breaking, really,
and he’s looking at her—Maisy Tanner, pop-tart teen YouTuber
extraordinaire turned wannabe indie darling—with an intensity and
desperation that has my heart racing and my knees shaking.
Shit.
I might have written the script for Murder in the Books myself, spent the
last decade of my life obsessively planning and fighting for this very
moment—but I am still wholly unprepared.
Because Rocco Riziero has somehow captured the memory, the moment,
the feelings, with a clarity that shouldn’t be humanly possible for someone
who never once met my father. Who didn’t stand in that living room with
me and Dad the morning the original conversation happened, right before
he was taken away.
The last day we’d ever spend at home together.
I know what line is coming next, of course I do. Not just because I wrote
the script, but because it’s word for word what I said to him that day.
Tempting to lie about it, to sugarcoat, make myself seem at least slightly
more sympathetic. But no. I made a deal with myself when I started this
project—all or nothing.
I decided on all. Truth. Very few details about the story were changed.
Only one very important piece.
One important person.
“I don’t know anything about you anymore,” Maisy says, her tone flat
and empty and exactly as torturous as I’d hoped and dreaded it would be.
The camera shifts toward her, closes in on her straight, dead-eyed gaze.
I’ll admit I’d had my doubts, many of them, when casting zeroed in on
her. For starters, the video that shot her into the stratosphere of internet
celebrity showcased her dancing in a pink tutu with a posse of matching
pink poodles to that Carly Rae Jepsen song no one ever needs to hear again,
capped off by her jumping into an alarmingly neon pink pool. Probably
shaving a few years off her life with the chemicals involved to achieve that
level of pinkness. But she’s surprised me from the first read through with
her passion and dedication and genuine talent.
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