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Aroma of Lavender

Chapter 1

This content is intended for mature audiences for the following reasons.

• Cursing/Profanity

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Chapter 1
The evening air was filled with perfume. The aroma of lavender and jasmine clung to the air as she strolled home. She had lived in her tiny house down the street from the Santa Monica Pier for the last five years. That’s all she could afford since she left him.
Leigh Anne craved adventure. She wanted to feel the wind in her hair, the salt of the sea on her body, and the gritty sand beneath her feet. California was her last chance to find what she had craved.
She was thirty-five years old—three miscarriages and no one to love ever since her attempt at a happily ever after with her high school sweetheart ended in divorce. She couldn’t blame him for filing for a legal separation, ultimately ending their ten-year marriage.
Her hypothyroidism made her infertile and irritable, and she had constantly put on weight. Of course, Ethan didn’t find her attractive anymore. She didn’t blame him for having an affair that resulted in another woman pregnant with his child. So, she had done what any other respectful woman would have done. She signed the papers and left quietly—traveling across the country with her tiny house towed behind her hefty blue Ford F-150, aptly nicknamed “Big Blue.”
Listening to a string of Stevie Nicks, Fleetwood Mac, and Heart, she felt better about her situation. Sure, the saline still stung her eyes, and her nose was a constant shade of red, but at least she only felt despair in the evening when the aroma of lavender could be detected in the air nearby.
STRANGER ON THE PIER
When Leigh Anne wasn’t working her three jobs—a hotel housekeeper by day, a waitress every other night, and a street musician when she didn’t wait tables at a dive bar named Dusty’s —she walked. She loved it, especially in the summer. She loved the sea air, the lights from the Ferris wheel and merry-go-round, and the smells from the food trucks.
On her walk home, she enjoys looking at the various architectural-style houses on either side of the narrow street - quaint, sweet summer cottages alongside massive, impressive waterfront estates. Shielded by enormous iron gates, houses she’d never be able to afford. But she liked to live the fantasy of being the lady of one of those houses. She was curious to see what they looked like inside - not just on the other side of the door. Instead, she found tranquility in the RV park, two stop signs down the main road, where the tiny house she shared with her cat, Gretel, sat. Her little slice of heaven on an AstroTurf lawn.
After her final set on her guitar and against her better judgment, she grabbed a corn dog and a can of ginger ale from her favorite food truck and ate on the pier. The sound of the waves crashing calmed her anxiety and aching feet.
She found an empty bench facing toward the bright lights of the Ferris wheel and smiled as the smell of the beach mixed with the crispy bubbles of her ginger ale.
Sitting alone, she felt the kind of solitude she strived to hold on
to. She relished the taste of her snack, and she giggled at the far-off sound of laughing children. In her mind, she joined in on their joy. Unbeknownst to her, someone slid onto the bench beside her while she was too carried away in her playful dreams to notice the stranger on the pier.
“Slow night?” His voice brought her back to reality. It’s thick with grit—sounds like a heavy smoker but velvety smooth like buttercream.
“E-excuse me?” Leigh Anne croaked out.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were chewing.” He moved to pat her on the back.
Leigh Anne shimmied away from his hand and looked wide-eyed at him.
“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to pat a choking person on their back like that?” She stood and turned to retreat down the pier, but felt a looming presence following her from behind.
Before she knew it, the stranger on the pier reached out to her, nearly touching her shoulder, but before he could make contact— call it reflex, call it instinct—her arm moved in a backward thrust motion and collided with what she assumed was his ribcage.
She heard a gasp and a cough. Spinning around, she broke out in hysterics as the burly six-foot, three-inch, curly, blond-haired stranger was keeled over, grasping his abdomen. In his free hand, she noticed he had a black guitar case. Surprised, she realized the stranger on the pier was merely trying to return her guitar case.

“Well, that’s a great way to say hello.” He coughed out as he reached his extended hand to get help getting back on his feet.

Aroma of Lavender

Aroma of Lavender

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Leigh Anne Klein—a lost woman found on the Santa Monica Pier, surrounded by fluorescence, food vendors, and the lingering aroma of lavender. She came from privilege and luxury, but those gifts carried a heavy price: her freedom and her voice. It wasn’t until the one person she thought she could always trust betrayed her that she finally escaped. Armed only with her rusted companion, Big Blue, her tiny home, and her Maine Coon, Gretel, she set off on a journey of discovery, adventure, and solitude. That is, until she was drawn once more into that familiar scent of lavender and…
Theodore Collins—a self-made man defined by his own circumstances, who sees the error of his ways reflected in the eyes of a lost soul. A soul he longs to capture, devour, and save. He believes that if he rescues her from herself, she will rescue him from the loneliness he thought was his destiny. Tortured, cynical, sarcastic, workaholic, selfless, and battered—everything he once was changed the moment he heard a voice singing on the boardwalk, strumming a guitar as tattered as his own heart.
Ethan Klein—a man of few words, feelings, or emotions. But he wasn’t always the monster his family created. He has made his share of mistakes, yet the one thing he never regretted was falling in love with his wife, Leigh Anne. He had been her protector, her best friend, her lover, her husband. What final act sent him spiraling into ruin? His mother? His father? His greed? Or his insatiable hunger for power? No one knows for sure. All Ethan knows is that it’s too late. He craves redemption, and he believes the only road back lies through his first wife—and he will stop at nothing to become whole again.
Take a journey through the eyes of an unknown narrator—one who knows all, sees all, and purrs with delight. She is not human, yet she is everywhere and nowhere, all at once.

18 episodes