Sneak Preview

So with under 6 weeks to go until the release of my debut novel ‘I Promise I Won’t Fall’, I thought what better way to get you all hyped would be to share the Prologue! I hope you enjoy this little snippet and it ties you over until release day 🤭

PROLOGUE

ELLA

I haven’t had sex for a whole year. 12 months. An entire calendar. It’s not like I haven’t tried, I’ve been on plenty of dates and approached plenty of men when I’ve been out with friends. Unfortunately, there's a man drought in this city. I swear, all the good men left Adelaide the minute they turned 25. It’s either that, or my standards are too high and I’m being too picky. To top it all off, I’ve also been single for five years, so I reluctantly downloaded Tinder again a few weeks ago, as part of the vicious, lonely girl cycle of downloading and deleting dating apps. I was feeling alone and in need of validation from strangers—it’s not the best way to go about it and is something I should probably bring up with my therapist, but it was the serotonin boost that I needed. It’s also what led me to my current situation.

It's a Tuesday afternoon and I’m currently on a date with Jed, my latest Tinder match. Jed appeared completely normal online when we matched two weeks ago. The conversation flowed easily, and the banter was great, so we agreed to meet at one of my favourite pubs, Jimmies. I was feeling hopeful, even though his name starts with ‘J’ (as all women know, we must be wary of men whose name begins with a ‘J’). However, that feeling has dissipated, and we’ve only been on this date for 15 minutes.

Firstly, I didn’t recognise him when I walked in because he had shaved all his hair off, which was the complete opposite to his profile photos. I was looking for a man bun and instead found a buzzcut.

Eventually, I located him at a table in the beer garden, slouching in his seat with the biggest man spread I’ve ever seen. He’d also already bought himself a beer and was halfway through it. I wasn’t even late for the date; I was on time.

Though it really started to go downhill when I approached the table, said hello, and he said, “Aw yeah, g’day Ella, how’s it garn? Gonna grab yourself a drink before you sit down or nah?” He then proceeded to look down at his phone, assuming I'd headed straight to the bar. I stood there for a few seconds, feeling dumbfounded, before muttering “sure” and heading back inside.

I’m now at the bar ordering a drink and I know I’m being super rude and ignoring the bartender, but I’m frantically scrolling back over our messages to see what I’ve missed. This guy spoke so eloquently online, yet my first real impression of him is that he’s an ‘abrupt bogan’. I make my way back to the table and sit down with a glass of prosecco, hoping it will improve.

I am literally in the middle of telling him about my week—how I’m working at a school as a librarian and how much I’m looking forward to the summer holidays—when he interrupts me. Another red flag, it’s not looking good.

“Oi, you look different to your pictures aye. Do ya know that? Your hair is red, and you’re like, taller than I thought you would be.” As he says this, he eyes me up and down. Normally, I don’t mind being perused by a man who I am interested in, especially after a good bout of flirting. However, Jed’s perusal of me made me feel like I was a cow being on show at the market.

My profile is as honest as they come. I don’t use filters on my photos, I don’t like to alter my appearance and give a misleading representation of myself. I want people to see the real me. I have long, strawberry blonde hair, blue-grey eyes, and I’m 5’7”. My height is literally listed on my profile, and sure, my hair can look a little blonder in some photos because, you know, lighting. I’m incredibly confused by his comments, and to be honest, I’m a little annoyed.

“I’m sorry but you’re one to talk, where did your hair go?” I ask, waving my hand at his now shaved head.

“Shaved it off on the weekend aye, whatchu think? Hot, yeah?” he asks, completely ignoring my other comments.

“Umm….” I don’t know what to say. This date is awful. I take a large sip of prosecco to try and avoid answering the question. Turns out he doesn’t care for an answer and has already moved onto the next topic.

“So, Ella, have you been on Tinder for long? Do you meet up with many dudes?” He asks, voice raised.

I nearly choke on my drink. What the actual fuck? He’s asked that question loud enough that every table around us has turned to look at me. I don’t think I’ve ever been so embarrassed before in my life. “Uh, well, not long, I guess. This is my first date in months,” I say, hopefully loud enough for those still listening in to hear, and not think I’m some desperate serial dater. I am so done with this guy. I down the rest of my drink. “Look, I’m sorry to cut this short, but I only really had time for one drink. I have a… uhh… presentation I need to finish before going back to work tomorrow.” I stand from the table, and so does he.

“Oh yeah, nah that’s chill. I’ve finished my drink anyway aye. I’ll walk you back to your car.”

I really want to say no, but he’s already trying to lead me through the beer garden and out the door. I walk towards my car, with him standing uncomfortably close the whole time, hand on my lower back as if to say ‘I own her’.

“Well, this is me,” I say as I reach my car and lean out of his reach. “Thanks for a nice time, I’ll… uh… be in touch.”

“Yeah, for sure. Oi, do ya reckon I could have a cheeky little kiss?” He smirks.

What in the male audacity? I stand there, stunned, and unsure what the hell to say.

“N-no, sorry. I have a ‘no kissing on the first date’ rule.” I try to casually brush him off while subtly moving closer to my car door.

“Nah, c’mon, you wanna kiss me. I can see the signs.” As he says this, he leans in closer to me and puts his hand on the roof of my car, over my shoulder. I’m boxed in and I don’t know what to do.

“Uh… no… I just... don’t…” I stammer as I try to get the words out.

“Excuse me, love, I think you left your jacket in the beer garden.”

I look over Jed’s shoulder and see the bartender I was ignoring earlier, standing behind him holding a jacket that is definitely not mine. I don’t know what brought him outside—maybe he saw how uncomfortable I was walking out of the bar with Jed’s hand on me, and now from his perspective, all he can see is a man caging me in against my car. If he heard enough, he would have heard me say no. His demeanour is calm and casual, but his eyes and the white-knuckle grip on the jacket tells me he knows exactly what kind of situation I am in and will intervene if I need him to. I gently push Jed away and step towards the bartender.

“Oh! How silly of me. Thanks for bringing it out,” I say, relieved. This man has just saved me from a really, really shitty situation.

“No worries! I’m happy to help.” He gives me a look that says ‘do you need me to do anything?’

I subtly shake my head at him—I really don’t want to cause a scene. I unlock my car behind me and open the door. Jed has taken enough steps back to glare at the bartender for interrupting, so I’m able to slide in easily enough. I shut the door before he can reach for me again. I wind down the window far enough for him to hear me speak, but not far enough for him to poke his head in.

“Goodbye, Jed. I’ll chat with you later. Thanks again for my jacket, Mr Bartender man.” I smile at him. My rescuer.

“You’re welcome. Have a good night!” He walks off, knowing that I’m safe, but waits outside the entrance of the bar. I wind the window back up and start my car, giving Jed a wave goodbye as I pull out of the car park. He's standing there looking both annoyed and confused. As I drive past the bartender, I mouth a “thank you” to him. He gives me a nod and a small wave before heading back into the bar. I drive a couple of blocks before I need to pull over. My eyes are burning and my bottom lip is quivering. I feel a tightness in my chest and the overwhelming sense of crushing disappointment. I turn the car off and bury my head in my hands and start to cry.

Why? Why is this my life?

I am so fucking sick of being single.

Copyright © 2024 by Emily Nicole

I Promise I Won’t Fall is available for pre order now. For signed paperbacks fill in the enquiry form (Aus only). For Kindle, search ‘I Promise I Won’t Fall’ on Amazon.