Title: Getting Lost (The Island, Book One)
Author: Marie Morgan
Cicily Welling lost everything she cared about. On a dangerous path of self-destruction, she finds a website announcing The Island, saying how they can help those with “emotional problems.”
With much trepidation, she fills out the form and clicks submit, launching herself into a world she never knew existed. It all starts with him. He tells her she’ll heal and makes grand promises that she’ll never be a doormat again.
Now, getting lost is the only way she’ll be able to find herself. In this first book of The Island trilogy, Cicily finds out just how delicious getting lost can be.
Marie Morgan fell in love with the erotica genre when she read Anne Rice’s Sleeping Beauty series. Marie has attempted to delve deeply into the human psyche and show how embracing something new can set someone free.
After a shower and a long time brushing her teeth, she felt ready to face the world. She headed into Marc’s room and pulled her clothes out of her bag. A tube of lipstick dropped from the confines of her jeans and rolled under the bed. “Ugh!” she whispered. She pulled her jeans on, buttoned them, and dropped to her belly on the floor, inching her way under the bed. As her fingers closed around the errant tube, they brushed something else. Figuring she’d haul whatever it was out, too, she looped her pinky finger around the object and pulled.
A lacy bra with a note in one of the cups was suddenly under her nose. Looking up to be sure Marc was still sleeping; she quickly gathered the bra, note, and her bag before stepping out to the living room and closing the door.
She eyed the bra as she made coffee, knowing it wasn’t hers and she was the only girl Marc had dated since he moved in six months before. Pouring a cup of the dark brew, her temper simmering, she snagged the objects and took a seat on the couch before opening the note with trembling hands.
I really loved our time together. Making love with you has been on my mind since the first day you walked into work. When it finally happened, my every fantasy came true. Since then, every time has been like the first time. Your taste drives me wild and I can’t wait to be on my knees for you again. Having you inside me is a feeling I won’t soon forget. I’m leaving you this little memento so you might remember our passionate nights. I hope we can continue our tryst. Let me know when you break up with your girlfriend. I’m looking forward to our first real date; one that will allow us to be free and open with our feelings for one another in public. While I enjoy our private time, I don’t like sneaking around. I want to show you off to the world.
All my love,
Cicily read the letter six times before deciding what to do. Hmmm, I could kick his ass, scream and throw things, or… She walked over to her purse, pulled out a pen, and added a note to the bottom of the letter.
I’m guessing that, before my family died, you were planning to dump me. I’m also guessing that you found you couldn’t do it in the wake of the pain I was already suffering. I’m going to be brutally honest with you now. The letter above has ripped my heart out of my body and left it lying on your kitchen floor. You were all I had left. I gave you my complete trust and you betrayed me in the worst way possible. I also wonder if you stayed because of the money from my parents’ estate. Were you intending to keep seeing her behind my back?
I wish you’d have just told me. Instead, you continued to use my body as you saw fit while giving yourself to another woman on the side. That’s the lowest form of disrespect. I also gave you my love. Something I never thought I’d live to regret.
It’s all gone now. Amber sounds like a nice, slutty girl and it was sweet of her to leave you a note and a bra for you to remember your times with her by. It must not have been that special if you needed a memento to recall it. Then again, sex with you sucked anyway. Maybe it was her that needed the reminder.
So, I’m leaving. When you finally wake up, my things will be out of your apartment and my number will be changed. Don’t call me. Don’t try to find me. Don’t ever look me up again.
I wish you every happiness with Ms. Amber. I only hope she realizes what she’s getting herself into. No telling how many times you’ve done this to me.
All my dead, blackened love,
P.S. You fart in your sleep. It’s really bad. Smells like something crawled up your butt and died. You may want to see a doctor before you accidentally kill your new girlfriend.
She drained the last of the coffee from her cup, folded the note, and put it back in the cup of the bra before fastening the whole package to the front of the fridge. Silently, she moved around the apartment, gathering her things. When she had the last item in her bag, she left, giving the door a hard slam behind her.