Book Review: “The Best of Us” by Kennedy Fox


One thing I wanted to do this year is limit the amount of romance books. I want to focus on other genres, but I saw the ladies of Kennedy Fox mentioned this one was free on Amazon last month, and I couldn’t help myself I had to get it before the opportunity disappeared. They were also in the process of releasing the fourth book of this series called “The Heart Of Us” so I figured I would check out the start of this collection.

I am still on the fence about it, mainly because I don’t really care for age-gap romances, but the snippets they shared on Instagram prior made me really happy, so we’ll have to see what comes out of this post. I’d still like to continue Travis and Viola‘s story of their Checkmate series, but these things take time apparently!


What happens when the biggest blizzard of the year hits and you’re trapped in a cabin with your best friend’s brother? You take every opportunity to spend time together and make him fall in love with you.

The Best of Us is a best friend’s brother, opposites attract, and snowed-in together standalone romance.

taken from Goodreads.

There were a lot of things I truly loved about this story. I mean besides the steamy sex scenes; it had a great and relatable plot amongst the characters. The main reason why I choose the word “relatable” is because everyone, especially Ryan, are coming out of the COVID-19 mess. He is a doctor who saw firsthand of what the virus did to his co-workers and patients. I thoroughly enjoyed Ryan as a whole, he was portrayed as a stoic person, but also showed a lot of emotion about his family and work. Whenever I read books like this, I am pulled towards the female character a lot of the time, but for this, I was fully on Team Ryan.

I want Kendall as much as she wants me, and the only thing coming between us is my insecurities.

Now with that being said, it doesn’t mean Kendall wasn’t an awesome character. I admired her sense of humor but most importantly her strength while wanting to find herself outside of her family and focusing on her charity work.

It was interesting to see how these characters share their reasons why they do what they do and you as the reader find out they are more alike in ways neither one expected, and I was surprised I didn’t find it annoying or unrealistic once they got over that hump–no pun intended there!–and began to think there could be more for them as a couple.

If you haven’t read anything by Kennedy Fox, I definitely you should grab this book. If you think using the pandemic as a prop for this story is a bit weird, because honestly, I thought I wouldn’t be into it either, trust me when I say it makes sense to use it to show you another side of Ryan’s life as a doctor.

Have you read “The Best Of Us” yet? If you have, what were your thoughts about this story of Ryan and Kendall?


Intruders Of The Mind

UntitledSince I was born, I could hear everything around me more clearly than my parents. I could hear their feet getting up out of bed when I would cry in the middle of the night. When they would go into the kitchen, grab a bottle out of the fridge, fill it up and warm it up in the microwave and then walk up the stairs again to come comfort me and as I got older I learned how many steps they took to be next to me. The amount of steps to take was 26. I don’t have OCD, but hearing more than a normal person has created other illnesses within me to keep me from being a normal person. It started when I was about five years old, I would have a nightmare about an ugly monster living inside my closet. It would come out when I was in a deep sleep, but I would hear it breathing next to my ear. It steps heavy on the floor and bumps into my dressers and drawers, making the books and stuffed animals fall off. Funny thing was, when I would wake up that monster would be the size of a seed but it made that much of racket and created the illusion of a bigger monster was to come later. When he waved at me from down on the floor, my tears would start to fall and I’d cry for my parents when they’d come in to be near me they would say “nothing’s there” but yet he would be there with his hand crossed looking at me slyly, I’d still be crying and my parents kept saying “there was nothing to be afraid of what’s not there.” They were real and I had created them in my mind.

When I was a teenager, the monsters got smaller and smaller until they turned into words. Every word, every sentence became a bigger monster. When I would go to school, the voices would start to shout at me, telling me to kill and love each of them to pieces. Every person I came into eye contact with was being judged with another voice inside my mind. “She is ugly!” one would say, in a high falsetto voice. “I think she’s pretty!” another would say, this time in a child’s voice. The ones that would whisper deep within, was from a demonic voice saying the words “kill her.” I had to fight back the tears in my seat, from the age five to 17 I would pee my pants in fear of the chaos inside. They would not leave me alone. Instead of being the good child when I came home from school, I would go into my room and throw my bag full of homework that will be completely and I went into my escape and that’s where the voices were at their peak and I was free to cry in silence. I would crawl underneath my bed and look up to the wooden box that the bed springs were resting on. So many memories lied within the words already written in place. Each bed I ever had, had words and sentences that never made sense to anyone but myself. It would be covered with the truth and lies of what each voice would say about myself, my parents, and what the outside would thought of me.

I tried to get help as a young age, but there was no helping the demons that appeared on top of the shrinks head, they were tickling their ears and nose. They traveled down their bodies were loose hairs and giggle their way down and stomp on his shoulders, thighs, knees, toes, and fingers with such force you would think thee pain was caused from falling down a large case of stairs. It was hard to heal what was easily the best form entertainment to an only child. When they would ask, “what do you see, child?” I would freeze up as I had made a promise to one of the monsters that I would never describe them to anybody, but when I was 15 I couldn’t take the pressure of keeping in a dumb secret like this. “They look like little elves, but not like Santa’s elves. They cause chaos to everything I look at and the pain you’re feeling right now was made from them right now.” I gave up trusting them as they were tearing me apart piece by piece. When the shrink looked at himself and saw the places that were burning of pain, nothing was there. “Don’t say what my parents said to me as a kid. They do exist. They’re there, I can only see them.” I would say out loud in front of the shrink, who would start writing in his pad of paper again. When it was time to leave, he excused me out of his office into the waiting area so he could discuss my actions with my parents. When they came out, they had a small piece of paper in my mother’s hand of a prescription  of a medicine that would “help” cure the monsters that roamed freely around me. That first day was pure heaven; I was normal for once. I was no longer looking for them anymore or counting how many steps a person took in the house. Seventeen days later, the monsters had found a way into my ear canal and said clearly, “we’re back.”

Some of them where from the elves, as some where formed from the people I had meant around town. I had remembered what each person who talked to me sounded like and mimicked their voice to make them say what a monster would say. I was in a panic, I was being good and taking my medicine but we would run out for three days at a time to get a new refill, it was like a jail sentence all over again. They were just voices, some in accents and others in softer tones. It was exhausting to have them back filling the void of being normal. They said they had mourned that I had destroyed their bodies, but since I had a great memory I had brought them back to life with their voices. It was scary to think that thirty days ago, I could only hear one voice, my voice. Now here they were again, making me write underneath my bed. Writing instructions of what I should do and who I should be. They would be angry that when I was on my medicine I had slashed “x’s” on each rule and then once they were done yelling at me, I was back to sanding each part down with new wood and I’d be right back to were I had started. I wasn’t alone in my mind but I had so longed to be again. When the pharmacy refilled my contains, I felt like unbalance of happiness and conflict between the demons and myself. I wanted to be a good person again, but they controlled my body the most. At my worst, my parents would have to hold me down to force feed me the pills in order for me to take them. I was consumed with them that I fought hard to regain strength in not taking them at all, even spitting them out while my father held my head and hushing me to relax, if two pills escaped from my tongue to reach them and go down the back of my throat, down to my stomach, I could feel the demons running away.

I would be crying for my friends who nobody had ever meant or seen. I had tried to make myself gag in hopes of the pills spilling out in the process. My parents would be there, holding me tightly as I sat there waiting for the medicine to reach the source and then the sounds and feel of heaven erupted inside and the enemy was gone. As days went on, my mother and I were closer and my father and I bonded over our common traits, hair, eyes, and our love of golf. When the sun was high up in the sky and the birds sang away in the trees, I cried tears of joy of what I was surrounded by, a believable heaven that only a person who has once lived in a hell could only see. Rain and storms never terrified me because of the demons I have faced that were much more scarier than something could easily break trees, power lines and rip roofs off a house. I had a chance to analyze what I was able to experience without a monster waking me like a dream. Each day was the same, just different dates and conversations. At the end of every month was also the same, everytime I had tried to break a pill in half at the last two weeks of the month, I’d be out again and they’d start to creep back in. It was heartbreaking to feel the darkness swept in like wind, my family was in fear of letting me out of the house when I was out or ever leaving me alone in my bedroom for the fear of my demons taking over and I’d have nothing left to drown the agony, they knew I had stashed a knife somewhere in my room but didn’t know where. I didn’t ever know where until the time of ten voices came waltzing inside the core of my brain. It was a constant struggle; a beautiful chaos inside my ruined mind.


Well I’ve caught the bug. That nasty bug that everybody in this house has had. We’re actually trying to figure out who had it first. My dad and I are the ones who have at the moment. Mom came home Friday night from work feeling like her head was going to explode. Not a good image, isn’t it? That morning, she was feeling it even more. Saturday’s are our days of going to nana’s for lunch and mom does her errands. Well, mom didn’t feel like she should or could even get out of the house. So she waited until Sunday, and she was still sick. But since I don’t get out much, the weekends are somewhat of a relieve for me. However, I didn’t want mom to get worse and I knew nobody else wants whatever she has. I woke up Wednesday morning with my throat very groggy. At first, I thought it was just because of how little I drank any of my pop last night.

I went to bed that night around 10:30pm or 11pm. I was really tired apparently, but I didn’t feel like I was. I still had all my energy, but as soon as I tweeted on my phone to my Twitter, “Goodnight” I was out like a light. I didn’t get up until 9am that morning. I slept a lot. So when I got up, and noticed my voice and the feeling on the back of my throat was just weird. I immediately thought, oh great, now I’m sick. Then I got a drink of my pop I had from last night. Just to see what all would change. I was definitely holding on to something positive. Afterwards, my throat wasn’t so bad. Then Thursday came, not only did my throat feel like crap. My chest and lungs felt horrible. I was also coughing as well, but I know how to contain my coughs so I only let one or two out at a time. I don’t like to cough because of my history of gagging in the middle or during one of my coughing fits. I got some interesting stories I could tell about that, but I don’t want to disgust anybody.

Last night mom gave me medicine. One of those people, who would rather take pill like cold medicine than the liquid shit. It’s less disgusting and the after taste doesn’t last for hours on end. And telling yourself act like you’re already 21 and its alcohol, doesn’t work anymore. Trust me, I’ve tried every thought to not make myself want to vomit some of this stuff (sorry) and haven’t found something to calm me down. I just hate all medicine to be honest with you. I hardly take painkillers anymore because I want to feel strong enough to get through it on my own. If I do ask for anything, I don’t just go to my strong stuff. I’d rather have about two Advils. Something that happened last night that got me thinking, a little after I laid down from having my medicine my back and right foot started acting up. They started twitching almost unbearable. I had to wrap my left foot around my right foot just to feel some comfort. My back had some spasms underneath my shoulder blades. I was in one strange position on my bed. I was slightly turned to my left on my hips and my back was flat on the bed. My feet were twisted a little. It’s hard to explain, but I was going to get through this pain without medicine and I had just ended my prayers and I didn’t think God needed to read this last problem I had, I was going to get through myself.

I expected a sleep-less night. I managed to go to sleep. But I woke up at 5am and surprisingly went to back to bed to only get waken up by my mom to take me to the bathroom before she went back to sleep. By this time, I had a massive headache after actually going back to sleep after waking up at 5am. After, she tucked me back in my bed and I passed back out. I forgot to tell her about the pain last night. She still doesn’t know, actually nobody knows until now. I don’t remember telling her anything really. I was tired, so I was probably half asleep because after she put back in my bed I passed back out and didn’t wake back up until 10am. My phone kept exploding (vibrating) so I got tired of it and just opened it to see all these tweets of my wonderful friends. Most were #FF’s (Follow Friday) I’d been included in and I haven’t gotten that much in a long time. I love them, they’re awesome people!