The Nightlife: New York by Travis Luedke

Author:Travis Luedke [Luedke, Travis]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Adult, Fantasy, Contemporary, Vampires
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 15980525
Publisher: Travis Luedke
Published: 2012-08-17T18:30:00+00:00

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After a moment of shock and a couple quick gasps, she dived into his pain headfirst. She reached out to him, wrapping her arms around his waist to hug him close. She felt it was her responsibility to offer what meager comfort she could provide since she'd been the one to force him to relive the past for her benefit.

Comforted, he opened his mind to her as he spoke. She could actually feel and experience his memories; far more depth of imagery and emotion than could ever be communicated by speech alone. She flowed down into the pain-filled recesses of his mind, through time, to the memory of his father's funeral and an overwhelming sense of loss and grief. The pain was still there, strong as ever, suffocating. She felt her own throat constrict with it. It was a pain she understood well, the loss of a father. She couldn't help but think of her own father, in a time and place long removed from here. Her own memory still carried its share of pain. Perhaps it's something you never really get over. You just learn to live with it.

The memories were most painful there at the wake, standing in front of his father's coffin. Aaron didn't want to see the corpse in that shiny box, all painted up by a mortuary makeup artist who'd never known his father in life. That wasn't his father lying there, but the image branded into his memory. He couldn’t rid himself of it. Aaron turned away quickly, preferring to look at the collage assembled by the entry to the chapel. The collage held a much truer representation of his father, not that dead thing in a box. He spent a good amount of time staring at the collage, trying to overwrite the painted corpse image.

Michelle immediately noticed the telltale signs of family resemblance. Aaron had his father's smile and other small details like the shape of his jawline and set of his shoulders. She recognized something in his father's face, a solemnity, a quiet strength that she'd seen glimpses of from time to time in Aaron's demeanor. The kind of strength one doesn't see at first, a subtle quality.

Some of the pictures sparked corresponding memories of the times and places they were taken. A picture of Aaron in his early teens sitting next to his father holding up a fish triggered the memory of his father's voice urging him on. His father, Lucas Pilan, Luke, encouraged him, “Give her a fight, don't let up, keep the rod solid in your hand. Pull back, steady … steady …. reel her in, slow and easy.” Aaron was so excited and yet afraid to lose the fish. He didn't even like fish, but he wanted this one for dad, who loved a good pan fried trout with beer batter.

There's another picture of his father in a hospital bed looking embarrassed but still smiling. Aaron recalled how his dad maintained his good humor to

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