Thank you to my husband for all the endless and countless hours I spent writing this book. I want to
thank you for doing the laundry, cleaning up the house, and never complaining when I stopped cooking
dinner. It’s been a tough road trying to get this book finished with working full-time and you stuck by
me and helped out. Now that I work part-time, I promise I’ll cook more! Thank you for your love and
support. I love you!
To my 3 beautiful teenage girls who never thought their mom would become a USA Today Best
Selling Author. There’s nothing you can’t do! Follow your dreams and make them happen! I’ll be with
you every step of the way. I love you girls!
To my editor Lucy! A huge thank you for all your help and hard work in making this book possible
for release. I never could have done it without you! Big hugs and kisses! I look forward to working
with you on Forever Us and all my future books. You rock girlfriend!
To a few of my author friends who have been there for me and have given me help and great advice
along my journey of becoming an author: Beth Rinyu, Dawn Martens, Aleatha Romig, Soaching Molly
Moose, and Adriane Leigh. Thank you again for all your help! It’s a pleasure knowing each and every
one of you!
I dedicate this book to my Mom
Table Of Contents
To My Readers
Forever You Playlist
I met Amanda through a friend. I was 18 years old, and she had just turned 17. She was a cute girl
with long brown hair, a nice curvy body, and tits that were to die for. I could tell she liked me right
from the start. We were at a party the night we met, and we sat near the bonfire. Amanda and I bonded
that night, and I had also learned of her twin sister named Ashlyn. We talked for what seemed like
hours about our families, goals, and dreams. I took her home, and we exchanged phone numbers.
Little did I know, this new relationship would change my life forever.
We went out at least three times a week, usually on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays. When I
wasn’t busy working with my father over at Black Enterprises, I would occasionally stop by
Amanda’s house during the week and spend a couple of hours with her. Things started out great for
us. I really liked Amanda. The sex was great and there was a lot of it. Everything was good until I
started talking about going away to college. She would freak out and make me promise her to call her
every day and that I wouldn’t look at other girls. Every time I would try to go out with my friends, she
would get upset and start to cry. She accused me of not wanting to spend time with her and that I put
others before her. I tried to explain that I wanted to see my friends every once in a while and that it’s
not healthy spending every waking moment together. Amanda disagreed and frequently accused me of
cheating on her if I didn’t answer her calls right away.
I felt as though I was being suffocated. I couldn’t have any time to myself, and her behavior was
erratic. She told me every day how much she loved me and that she could never live without me. She
said we’d be together forever and that nothing would ever separate us. I didn’t love Amanda. I liked
her, but I wasn’t in love with her. I wasn’t even sure what love was. The day I tried to end the
relationship, Amanda told me that she might be pregnant. A million horrible thoughts ran through my
mind, and I couldn’t see myself being tied to this girl for the rest of my life. Luckily, the pregnancy
turned out to be a lie. I had a long talk with her sister Ashlyn; she told me that Amanda was fine and
that I just needed to be patient with her.
I finally reached the breaking point one day when I went to dinner with a group of friends. Amanda
found me and caused a scene in the middle of the restaurant. I took her outside to try and calm her
down, but nothing worked. I didn’t have feelings for her anymore, and I could barely stand to look at
her. I broke up with her. I had told her that I’d had enough, that it was over between us, and to never
call me again. I left her standing on the street crying. I had no choice; she was crazy, and she needed
I received a call from Amanda two days later; she wanted me to come over to talk. As far as I was
concerned, there was nothing to talk about. I broke up with her, and I didn’t want to discuss it
anymore. She cried and begged me to come over. She said that she had one last thing to talk to me
about, and then she would accept that we were over. She told me to wait about an hour because she
wasn’t home yet. An hour had passed when I pulled up in her driveway. I knocked on