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The First Breath You Take -- Tiana Laveen

The First Breath You Take

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This is the story of a young half Hawaiian, half Croatian man who has awoken to a nightmare. Tanner’s life was turned upside down once Volcano Haleakala erupted and took away his family, and destroyed the place he called home, a sleepy town in Maui. His days become endlessly depressing as well as a continuous fight for survival until he accidentally runs across another survivor, Summer, a shop owner’s daughter who is hanging onto sanity by an ash covered thread. Little do either of them know that nothing short of fate could have brought the pair together. They quickly form a friendship, built on common recent occurrences, and a secret from their mutual pasts. Will Tanner and Summer be able to survive yet another obstacle in their way to claim the life they so deserve? Read, ‘The First Breath You Take’ to find out.


Read excerpts from, “The Tale of the Blood Diamond” written by Tiana Laveen.

She leaned back from him, trying to stifle a yawn as she removed her coat and set her purse down. She didn’t miss the growing hard on between his legs. Her body sent her mixed messages. She was utterly exhausted yet hungry for his loving.

“He was good, real good…” he said huskily as he gripped the back of her neck and caught her lips with his own. He licked and sucked them, drawing a slight moan from her before probing his tongue deep inside of her awaiting mouth. In the quiet of the room, she could only hear the man’s breathing and the sounds of his mouth diligently searching her own. Large fingers trailed down her neck and collar bone. With due diligence, he began the process of undoing the minuscule buttons of her navy blue shirt. Soon he ran his fingers over her lacy black bra. It pushed her breasts together, and from the hunger in his eyes, he loved the fit. His kisses became more urgent, his stroking of her nipples more determined as he maneuvered himself impossibly closer to her form, devouring her with his mouth, his love, his devotion.

She moaned as he pulled away from her and undid her pants, tugging at the zipper as if it had in some way wronged him. They stood, facing one another. Before she could form another thought, her clothing puddled at her ankles, and she stepped out of the outfit that had clung to her skin for hours. She felt relieved to be free, despite the slight chill in the room. They could never agree on the temperature to have in the house. Even though Xzion’s brain no longer overheated, he still was a colder being. She liked it toasty, especially during the brutal winter, but Xzion feigned hot flashes, going into dramatics that he’d melt. He’d typically let her have her way, and tonight, she just knew he’d warm her up regardless, so she kept her objections at bay…

EXCERPT #2: (The Tale of the Blood Diamond)

Jayme’s chest heaved up and down as if it were on hydraulics. She was now in her black, ribbed tank top and baggy cargo pants, the ones with the deep pockets to hold her brand spanking new ammo. It was only twenty degrees outside, and Xzion was kind enough to keep the interior temperature at sixty-seven, but she continued to sweat, her nerves plaited like licorice yet to be devoured. Nothing was sweet or delicious about this shit, and she was certain she wouldn’t be able to catch her breath for a long while. She swallowed and tossed her messy fishbone braided hair over one shoulder. Xzion stood at the other end of the line he’d formed in front of himself, like a heartless drill sergeant. Moments previous, without making eye contact, he nonchalantly jammed an odd, long barreled gun in her hand. She had the weapon now in her possession, and she had the run down. Go for the hollow of the ribs… She knew every damned detail.

Washington DC was being the hit the hardest because Xzion was there, and a maniac she’d never seen wanted her husband wiped out so that these Yuledrake sons of bitches could terrorize and take over in peace. Okay, she got that — that was logical to some extent. What she didn’t get were these other creatures, yet some of the Zarkstormian Warriors were scarier than the two-headed beast that now stood, gathering its belongings to fly back home. The damn thing was in close proximity to her. It had arrived late that afternoon, did not speak English and smelled like vinegar.

It seemed friendly enough, but then she saw it open its tiny mouth and reveal piranha like teeth as it sucked down an insect from a jar. Her stomach flipped and turned in disgust. Several times, she had to close her eyes and refocus, to tell herself it was not a dream, and no matter how horrid these things looked, they were not there to harm her. In fact, they’d risked their lives to be of assistance. Many of them appeared to be having trouble breathing in the Earth’s atmosphere, and would take time out to get themselves together through specially constructed breathing masks. One creature breathed through its skin alone, and had to rub a specially made solvent on the tough, fibrous dark red mess.