Not Enough By Mia Hoddell
Genre: Upper YA/NA Contemporary Romance
Release Date: November 16th 2015
Neve Colvin isn’t good enough. As an introvert, her life is a never-ending list of labels and criticism. Pressures to change come from everyone—including the one person she thought would love her unconditionally … her mother. All Neve wants is acceptance, but surrounded by extroverts it’s a wish that’s nearly impossible to fulfil.
For Neve there’s only one solution: anyone disapproving must go. Even if it means only one person will remain.
That person is her lifelong friend Blake Reynolds. He’s seen the fights with her mum, the breakdowns caused by attacks on her personality, and the battles for acceptance. Each time she is left shattered and questioning who she is, he’s the one to collect the pieces of her broken heart. Shielding her from the cruelty is his only concern. But how can he protect her when Neve is concealing a secret so dark?
Blake thinks he knows everything about her, and with their relationship developing, he assumes Neve trusts him fully. However, there is one memory Neve is too ashamed of to share. Revealing it will test Blake’s loyalty beyond what she could ever ask, and Blake is the only friend she can’t afford to lose. He’s the one person capable of dragging her from the darkness plaguing her, but with pressures to conform increasing, even Blake may not be enough to pull her back this time.
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What reviewers are saying:
“From the dedication at the beginning up to the end this was both a thought provoking and an emotional read for me and I loved it!” – Sandra @ JeanzBookReadNReview
“This story tugged at my heartstrings, played on my every emotion. It was a beautifully written story of how an introverted young girl blossoms into a beautiful young woman.” – Keren Hughes, Author of Nothing Like The First Time
“A heartbreaking read that sometimes had me close to tears.” – Susan @ Ladies Living in Bookland
“Heartbreaking. Powerful. Real … I literally lived the pages, not read them … It’s so well and beautifully written, it is more than just another YA novel.” – Cristina @ Crazy Beautiful Reads
About the Author
#1 Amazon bestselling author Mia Hoddell lives in the UK with her family and two cats. She spends most of her time writing or reading, loves anything romantic, and has an overactive imagination that keeps her up until the early hours of the morning.
Mia has written over ten titles including her Seasons of Change series, the Chequered Flag series, the Elemental Killers series, and her standalone novels False Finder and Not Enough.
Her favourite genres are contemporary romance or romantic suspense, and with an ever growing list of ideas she is trying to keep up with the speed at which her imagination generates them. She also designs book covers on her website M Designs.
You can follow Mia on:
Blog | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Google+ | Amazon
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From: Neve Colvin
To: Neve Colvin
One word, four letters. It sticks in my throat and refuses to come out. Maybe it’s not the right time, or maybe I’m just scared. But it’s normal to be scared, right? Saying that word isn’t something a person should undertake lightly. Once the word is out, it can’t be reclaimed. Once it’s said it becomes real and actions must follow.
Words can hurt—I should know that well by now. They cut deeper than a knife, and the wounds last longer even if they’re invisible. Some people will show off scars like they’re a trophy, telling you the story behind each and every one no matter how boring or traumatic the event was. The scars are like a brand to them, and I’m thankful that the ones left by your words aren’t visible to the naked eye for everyone to gawp at.
It doesn’t take a psychopath, murderer, or unstable person to hurl words that are meant to maim. Anyone can, and anyone does. They cut to the core, repeatedly stabbing and twisting deeper into the heart. They play with peoples’ minds and no one can see the consequences until it’s too late. A person can take a lot of verbal abuse, but there’s always a limit.
Like a riverbank that is battered repeatedly by the water, bits of me have been chipped off and worn away. If you could see inside of me you’d notice I’m no longer whole, but rather a scratched and scarred person who’s been pieced back together too many times. I’m ugly on the inside. Fragments are missing, wounds are both fresh and old; I’m bleeding and I can’t stop your latest comments from slicing me open and adding to the unusual piece of artwork.
I’ve weathered a lot of attacks, but I’ve finally reached my limit.
Saying it should be easy. You’ve destroyed everything I’ve been working for, shattered every dream, and broken the person I want to be. You’ve pushed me beyond my limit, yet I can’t do it. I feel weak because of it. It makes me hate myself more. That you have this kind of control over me when you don’t even care isn’t right, but it is what it is.
A part of me wants to say it. I want to convince myself it’s the best solution. After all, you’re never going to change, are you? What’s the point in sticking around to suffer more?
Regardless, sitting here with salty tears dripping from my face I gaze out at the horizon through blurred eyes. I haven’t been able to stop them since I ran out on you. My eyeliner has long since stopped marking me with black trails, I’m now just blotchy … a mess. My sleeves are incapable of drying my face, too wet to be of any use, and I only have one tissue on me. Not that my body cares. The wounds ripping open inside of me all over again refuse to allow the tears to stop, and in a way I don’t want them to. It’s cathartic … the only way I can release what you’ve done to me.
A chilly, evening breeze hits my back and sends a shiver down my spine. It stirs the edges of my zip-up hoodie, causing them to whip at my sides. Tendrils of hair stick to my face from the water trails. The pieces that have escaped that fate swarm around my head like a cluster of snakes. As strands catch my face in the wind, it’s like they’re adding more poison to my already broken mind. I just wish they’d numb it.
You did this. It’s all your fault.
You’re responsible for making me come out here to write this. I’m sitting here, looking down at the river, watching as the current batters the water against the rocks and wondering if it would feel as bad as what you’ve done. The amount of water makes my tears seem small in comparison. In fact, my whole life seems small. Because that’s what you think, isn’t it? It’s what everyone thinks of me: that I’m weird, don’t fit in, don’t act normally. My choices aren’t good enough for anyone. I was meant to have a chance like you said, but you couldn’t even give me that. Instead you broke the one thing I wanted more than anything, making it impossible.
I knew you were mean, but I didn’t think you’d go that far.
It’s not something you have to repeat on a daily basis either. I know I’m not the daughter you wanted. I get that I’m a disappointment and fail you at every turn, but it’s not something I strive for.
All I want is to be accepted for who I am, but you can’t …
One word, four letters. That’s all it is. Four tiny letters and everything will be solved for me.