Kindle Edition Amazon allewells.com Category:  Mainstream Publisher: Alle Wells ISBN-10:  1479100870 Type: Fiction Pages: 111 Copyright: Apr 24, 2012 ISBN-13: 9781479100873 An Engaging Story of Empowerment - Amazing character study - A Story Of Courage, Determination, And Believing In One's Dreams! Based on the life of Annette Bevels, "Leaving Serenity" takes the reader back to the quaint atmosphere of main street America in the 1960's where everyone speaks the same language and success is measured by conformity. At sixteen, she falls in love with Jack Harris, a romantic hippie with an unsavory past. Leaving Serenity, Annette creates a new identity and becomes the master of her own destiny. Her journey to success is inspiring and empowering. Excerpt Chapter 1 1996 My heart quickens as the black Mercedes-Benz comes to a stop. The 1960s’ ranch-style house looks shabbier than I remember, like Daddy’s old Lincoln sitting in the driveway. There’s an orange four-by-four pickup on monster wheels and a faded, black Volvo parked in the front yard. I slide my car snugly behind the smashed bumper of a blue Chrysler minivan parked on the street. I flex my tingling hands and listen to “Happy Days Are Here Again” introduce the morning stock report on NPR and pick up the phone. I scroll to my broker’s number. “Hey, Bernie…Yeah, it’s a long way from Nashville, but I made it…Yeah, I heard. Buy all of it…I know you’ll take care of me. You always do. Bye.” Deals worth millions of dollars don’t faze me. It’s just another day’s work. Sitting in front of this house that’s seen better days paralyzes me. After all this time, a stinging pain still lies deep in my heart. My anxiety level threatens to wipe out years of therapy. But I couldn’t get here fast enough, driving straight through the night after receiving Jeff’s call. “How did you find me?” I’d asked. “We do have satellite TV down here. Anyway, I called to tell you that Daddy had a stroke. It looks real bad. They don’t expect him to make it. He asked for you. Mama said that you should come home.” “Oh, God! Well, I’ll have to rearrange a few things, but I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I hung up the phone, still reeling from hearing my brother’s voice after all these years. The thought of my father lying helpless and calling for me brought tears to my eyes. Headed eastbound on I-40, I called my assistant, my producer, and smooth-talked three major clients into rescheduling to visit a man I hardly know. I drove two hours to the state line, another hour through the Blue Ridge Mountains, and seven more hours to a dead town in the middle of nothing. Every hour, I asked myself why I’m doing this. The answer rang back, loud and clear. They want me, they finally want me. Now that I’m here, I can’t get out of the car. My mind races through dozens of possible scenarios that I may encounter inside. Remembering my life in Serenity makes me feel like I’m spiraling downward into a bottomless pit. I tell myself to get a grip and throw my latest Coach bag over my shoulder. Two children playing in front of the glass door run inside as I approach the front door. A freckle-faced little boy yells, “Mom-ma! Some fancy lady is here.” A heavy set woman with a mound of thick, dark hair steps around the gaping children. She reaches over them to open the front door. I haven’t seen my sister in over twenty years. Looking at her now, I wonder what happened to the young beauty queen I knew. She swings the door open. “Annette? Is that really you?” Her voice is sweet and recognizable underneath the years of added weight she carries. “Hello, Beth.” Beth wipes her hands on her red polyester pants and shoos the boys away. “Excuse my young’uns. Little Earl, you and Little Jeff go out back and play in the empty swimming pool.” She motions to me. “Come on into the house.” My sister’s careless dialect and the word, “howse,” remind me that I’m back in my hometown where everyone speaks the same language. Years of practice and expensive speech therapy have corrected my diction and inflection so that others can understand me. I remind myself that I have invested too much time and energy to fall back now. The children run through the foyer ahead of us. Family portraits cover the gold flocked wallpaper. In one, Daddy’s athletic shoulders hover over Mama’s small frame as she holds a strained smile. Cloaked in Carolina blue and clenching a scroll to his chest, the corners of Adam’s lips turn up smugly. Jeff kneels on green turf, hugging a football. Curly, golden-brown locks frame his boyish face. Beth looks angelic, her face shadowed behind Mama’s rosette appliquéd wedding veil. Twelve-year-old, pimple-faced Annette stares straight ahead a little bit cockeyed. Beth holds an arm out and guides me past the formal living room that’s hardly ever been used. “Come on into the den. They’re all visiting Daddy in his room. Who would have thought that a strong man like Daddy would have a stroke? It just don’t seem possible.” She bustles around, fluffing flattened, needlepoint pillows before we sit on the velour wraparound couch. “I just know that Mama is dying to see you.” My heart jumps with anticipation. My relationship with Mama has been a major part of my therapy and recovery. My therapist said that I’m ready to see her. I hope she’s right. “Is she, really?” Beth hesitates, holding a pillow to her chest. “Well, it’s been such a long time since you were here. Sure, she’ll be happy to see you.” I manage to nod and smile. Beth examines my face closely. “My word! You have the whitest teeth I ever saw!” Beth throws the pillow on a lumpy couch cushion and fidgets uncomfortably. “And that hair, well, you just look so different, is all. Why, Mama might not even recognize you.” I nod again but keep my mouth closed. Beth calls down the hallway, “Mama! Annette is here!” Mama peeks around the corner, cautiously. She’s smaller and grayer than the Mama I knew. Her skin looks wilted. Her blue eyes look rheumy and tired. A wave of compassion moistens my own eyes, so much like hers. I want to run and hug the woman who gave me life because she asked me to come. My voice catches in my throat when I speak. “Hello, Mama.” Mama lifts her chin and gives me a long, hard look. She looks at Beth. “Annette? That’s not Annette.” Beth wraps her arm around Mama’s shoulder. “Yes, ma’am. This is Annette. She’s just changed, is all.” Mama points a crooked finger and turns back from where she came. “That woman is no child of mine.” I follow her to the hallway entrance and call out, “Mama! I came to see Daddy. Jeff said he asked for me. I drove all night just to see him.” Mama stands at the door of the bedroom that she and Daddy share. She looks back at me with downturned lips. “I asked for Annette, not you, whoever you are. Now’s not a good time. Come back later.” When she closes the bedroom door, her bitterness strikes me like a snake bite. Feeling hopeless, I whisper into the air, “Why did I come here?” Beth touches my arm. “Oh, you know how stubborn she is. Don’t mind her. She’ll get over it.” “Get over what?” Beth jabs her fists into the front pockets of her calico smock. She rocks on her heels and talks to the gold shag carpet. “Well, we never hear from you, not even so much as a Christmas card. I guess she’s just a little hurt, is all.” I rub the moisture from my burning eyes. “Look, I’m real tired. Why don’t I get my bags and lie down for a while?” Beth looks relieved and follows two steps behind me. “That’s a fine idea. You’ve had a long drive. I’ll help you with your things.” I press the remote to open the trunk, grab the carry-on, and set the roll-about on the street. Beth stands back and checks out the car. “My, this sure is a nice car. Is it yours?” “Yeah,” I reply, closing the trunk. “I use it for business, mostly.” Beth places the heel of her hand over her mouth to hold back a laugh. “It’s nicer than Adam’s car, and he’s a lawyer.” I smile at her. “Now, that’s the Beth I remember.” Beth looks embarrassed and pulls the roll-about bag toward the front door. “I can’t say much. I reckon I’ll be driving that old van ’til the cows come home. I guess we’ve all changed. I saw you on satellite TV over at Jeff’s place. He’s the one who recognized you on the Nashville station. I never would have known you on my own. Do you know how I figured out it was you? It was your hands. I said, “Jeff, those are Annette’s hands!” I’m surprised and flattered that she watches my infomercials. “That’s funny. Well, you would know better than most. What do you do, Beth? I mean, do you work?” “I play the piano and direct the choir at church,” she says, with a smile that sinks into the folds of her face. “Grandpa Zeke’s church?” Beth answers, holding the front door open for me. “Uh-huh, the boys sit with Mama on the second row to the left. My Earl Junior works at the poultry plant with Jeff. Earl Junior and Jeff bought some land together, back off Millhouse Road. We have two doublewides side by side near the millpond. You know Jeff never did marry, so I cook and clean for him, and he helps out with the boys. It’s a real nice setup.” I try to picture my sister’s home in my mind and compare it to my plush four-bedroom condo in Brentwood overlooking Radnor Lake and the soft, rolling Tennessee hills. I feel sorry for her, but say, “That sounds nice.” I detect sadness in my sister’s voice as she we enter our childhood bedroom. “You can stay in our old room. It hasn’t changed a bit since you left. The same old beds with the pink canopies are still there. Sometimes I think that Mama just quit living after we left home. ” We plop my bags down on the fattened pink carpet. The small twin beds and white French Provencial dresser with a heart-shaped mirror look out of place in today’s world. “Well, call if you need anything.” Beth smiles weakly and closes the door, leaving me in front of a murky, full-length mirror. The image staring at me is my reward for the years of work I’ve put into becoming Nikky. Perfect ears pinned back and cropped by the knife. Silky cornflower hair colored with my hairstylist’s own special formula. Prominent cheekbones imbedded with silicone implants frame a perfect nose that took two breaks and two years to create. Slipping out of the silk camisole, I catch a glimpse of the ideally sized 36Cs. They are firm, full, and stay in place when I move. Changing my image gave my self-confidence a boost and elevated my career. No matter how many times they call me Annette, I’ve come too far to go back now. I am Nikky. I collapse onto the small bed that was Annette’s to sleep off the long drive. Dreams of my childhood in Serenity haunt me and hold me in a twilight state. *** My eyes pop open at the sound of Adam’s harsh voice. “What the hell is she doing here?” Jeff’s southern whine sings back, “I called her. I thought she might like to see Daddy before he goes. Besides, Daddy asked for her.” I hear the tinkling of ice cubes on glass. Adam replies, “She’s got no business here. Hell, Mother didn’t even recognize her. She’s a freak, is what she is.” A female voice that I think is his wife, Elise, calls out, “Adam! That’s unnecessary!” Glass clinks on the glass top of the wet bar I remember from my childhood. He mumbles, “Whatever.” Hearing my brother’s hateful comments remind me of why I left home. After all this time, nothing has changed. My mother and my brother still don’t want me here. The tiny room with its outdated, childish furniture starts to close in on me like a prison cell. I need to escape, just for a little while. I need time and space to build the strength I’ll need over the next few days. I pull on a pair of black Capri running tights, a form fitting tank with slashes of purple and yellow, a matching jacket, and a pair of purple Nike running shoes. The outfit screams Nikky. I glance in the mirror before I open the door and face Annette’s family. Seeing my siblings gathered in the family room is like stepping into a 1970s’ time machine. Jeff catches me looking from the doorway. My brother’s hair is shoulder length, layered in a 1970s’ style that reminds me of the Bee Gees. He heaves himself off the other end of the couch and walks toward me with an extended hand. “Welcome.” He speaks stiffly, like the cowboys who greeted the Indians on old westerns. I hesitate and then receive his hand to one side, avoiding his protruding belly. His calloused hand scratches my skin. “Thank you for calling me.” Adam looks shabby chic in a blue and white seersucker jacket, as he pours another glass of Scotch at the wet bar. He turns his back, sips the drink, and looks out the sliding glass doors at the outdated wrought iron patio furniture and brick barbeque pit next to the empty swimming pool. Elise sits on the couch, looking bored, and flipping through a Southern Living magazine. She glances over and nods. I silently admire her deep tan and strong, dark features. Adam’s wife is a natural beauty who never had to work at looking good. Her dark, straight hair and petite features remind me of the movie star, Ali MacGraw. Beth’s large body fills a recliner close by. She fans herself with a leaf of newspaper, even though the thermostat must be on sixty. Beth leans toward me and rolls her eyes upward and points her chin down, the way Mama used to do. “We’re real glad you came today, Annette. You are his favorite, you know.” Feeling tired and testy, I snap back at her. “I don’t know why you say that I’m his favorite when we haven’t spoken to each other in years.” Adam tosses a tumbler of scotch down his throat. “I don’t know why you say that, either, Elizabeth. Considering what a liar and a fake Annette –” I notice the gray highlights that sprinkle through Adam’s hair as he bows in my direction. Hate spews from his icy, cobalt eyes. “Oh, excuse me – Nikky is.” I don’t have the strength to match his stare. Instead, I turn toward the front door. “Where do you think you’re going?” Jeff whines. “I’m going for a run.” Jeff hovers, a step behind me, slurring his words together. “You can’t leave. We can’t leave, so you can’t leave.” Jeff stands at the front door. I notice his red, puffy face and worn down teeth as he jabs his finger toward the ground, making a futile attempt at communication. “Look at her, always running away. No guts! No glory, little sister!” I don’t look back, but I feel my older brother watching helplessly as I hit the street and run toward the town I’ve spent a lifetime running from.

Leaving Serenity
A very moving and well told story. After receiving a request to come home because her father is dying, Nikky returns to her hometown and family. We learn her story as she revisits places from her youth, and as the story progresses, we see how she suffered, survived, and how she grew. A wonderful story of a girl/woman's strength to grow and survive rather than just accepting whatever might come her way. I highly recommend this book.

Loved this story!
Leaving Serenity is one of those books that tugs at your heart the moment you start reading. The author expertly wove emotion into every scene and created characters that you either wanted to hug or put in a headlock. In this story, the heroine, Annette Bevels, earned more than a hug - she earned my admiration. At a young age she endured some horrific situations, yet she remained a tender soul; patient, respectful, and filled with hope that one day she would be loved. Stifled by her family and her small town, Annette finally left Serenity. At first it seemed like a huge mistake, but it turned out to be the best decision she could have made. I loved that I was privy to Annette's strength and courage before she was. Once she realized it, her life turned around. This is an amazing story and I would read this author again!

A Story of Redemption and Overcoming!
This is a wonderfully written story about a young woman whose family was, to say the least, dysfunctional. Her childhood left her feeling unloved and unappreciated (not to mention unprotected!) and she left it behind and learned to hold her head up and appreciate the true person she was.

When her father was on his deathbed, she came home and revisited all that had happened there and who she had become since leaving.

A very emotional and moving story that I would recommend to anyone. This is a book that is hard to put down and as you come to know "Nikki" you become wrapped in her life and hope and pray that she'll manage to overcome the legacy her family left her.