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Falling Out and Falling Back

Falling Out and Falling Back

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Falling Out and Falling Back

5/5 (3 Bewertungen)
77 Seiten
58 Minuten
Aug 18, 2020


Sarah Barnesworth is a brash reporter with big ambition and an even bigger attitude. She’s made her career out of breaking stories and breaking all the rules. Kylie, a mild-mannered camerawoman who just happens to be dating the intrepid reporter’s best friend, can’t figure out if she loves Sarah or hates her. Although she might have a notorious temperament, Sarah’s also fiercely brave, a quality that Kylie’s never quite managed to cultivate. As the dust of Kylie’s breakup begins to settle, the two women become accidental coworkers, and Kylie’s love-hate longings quickly flare up. When Sarah and Kylie find themselves at the center of a local election scandal, Kylie has to figure out how to navigate Sarah’s rogue ways, a challenge that just might push the two women apart. Sparks fly and tensions mount as their investigation gathers steam, but in the end, it’s the friction between Sarah and Kylie that helps them both make it big.

Aug 18, 2020

Über den Autor

Holly Glass uses romance to explore the complexities of gender identity, the joys of sexual fluidity, and the possibility of personal liberation in a highly gendered world. Her goal is to cultivate intimacy and health by telling stories that are authentic to life and love outside of the hetero-norm.

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Falling Out and Falling Back - Holly Glass

I was never one for getting into trouble.

Not that I’m the fearful type per se. Most of the time, it just boils down to a sheer lack of creativity. Growing up, it never occurred to me to cut class or break curfew or have sex with boys. My parents wrote the rules, and I always followed them with little more than a shrug. Discipline was obsolete because breaking my word held little interest. While other kids were sneaking out to parties, I stayed in on Saturday nights to watch old episodes of Cheers with my dad. My mother would surprise us with popcorn, wrapped in her terry-cloth bathrobe and scooting around in her slippers.

Back then, my cardigans outnumbered my original ideas, and to be honest, I think my friends’ parents always liked me more than my actual friends did.

No one would’ve guessed that a girl with straight As and a squeaky clean conscience would end up in a jail cell. That I’d be accused of giving a black eye to one of the city’s most beloved entrepreneurs, the makeup world’s newest darling. I never saw the twist coming myself.

Then again, maybe I should have.

Because when you get down to it, I figured out pretty quick that I was headed for some kind of trouble. In the end, it doesn’t matter if I disobeyed my boss’s orders or stole what wasn’t mine. None of that makes any real difference.

The real trouble started with Sarah Barnesworth.

Don’t tell anyone, but I always had it bad for Sarah, even before I knew her. I couldn’t figure out if I wanted to share her limelight or share her bed. Either way, Sarah was one of those people you couldn’t stop thinking about.

I grew up wanting to be a journalist because, unlike most critical thinkers, I always trusted whatever I saw and heard on the news. If it was flashing across the ticker at the bottom of the screen or coming out of an anchor’s mouth, then the story had to be true. I liked that feeling of comfort, of having someone tell me what’s what.

When I was a kid, maybe I just wanted to believe in somebody. And then, the older I got, the more I wanted to be the person that everyone else could believe in.

Only sometimes, a journalist could get into trouble. I’d seen the videos of Dan Rather at the 1968 convention, the stories about good old Ed Murrow. Sometimes a journalist could make a mistake, or worse yet, take a stand, both of which sounded a little too sticky for my taste.

I liked being good, the one who didn’t have to worry about keeping their word.

I decided to let the video camera do the dirty work for me. Maybe I didn’t have it in me to get on-screen and provoke the viewing audience, but I was happy to be the one behind the scenes, the one who could put the camera in just the right spot and let it tell the whole story. All I had to do was press a few buttons.

And even though that way of being allowed me to stay comfortable, it also gave me stomachaches. Almost ten years out of college, I was still nobody. My work never grabbed anyone’s attention, never changed the world, and after a round of layoffs at a local affiliate, I found myself mired in a pathetic YouTube underbelly. I spent my days taking money from small-time singers and wannabe influencers, all of them desperate to become the next viral star. I told them they wouldn’t get anywhere without decent production value, and even though I was telling the truth, I knew that good cinematography and editing would never be enough for most of my clients, their dreams of sweet ad revenue and TikTok stardom forever unfulfilled.

Like I said, I was never one for taking chances.

But Sarah. She was a different story. A prolific writer whose name drew accolades and acrimony alike. One of the only local reporters to really grill the mayor or challenge the police chief. But what really made her famous was when she skewered one of Georgia’s senators over campaign contributions and his support for voter suppression measures. The segment had been an overnight sensation: a cranky old suit with about as much grace as a wheezing pipe organ, all red and flustered with Sarah dared to question him on the efficacy of voter ID laws.

I wanted her even then.

But what really solidified her local notoriety was a little undercover operation. Sarah somehow managed to sneak a hidden camera into a detention center (a feat that people are still trying to figure out). She then gave her own fiery commentary on the prison industrial complex right in the thick of a live broadcast. The best part was the reaction of Sarah’s coanchor, a woman who wore

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