Welcome back to Author Spotlight. This week, the light shines on D.L. Pitchford. D.L. was the youngest of four daughters born in Northern California to her parents Bobby and Pam, but the family moved to Southwest Missouri when D.L. was only four.
A love of creativity and a hunger for learning were an essential part of D.L.’s childhood. Her mother encouraged art and literature in every form, and by the age of ten, D. L. was already writing her own stories. This love only grew as D. L. attended college at Drury University, where she got her BA in English, Writing, and Fine Arts in 2013.
In 2014, D.L. married her husband, and they now have two little boys.
Billy Dixon Series – A New Adult Coming of Age / Slow-Burn Romance
After her parents’ divorce, introverted Billie Dixon buries herself in her studies. Her plan? To stay out of sight, out of mind, and out of trouble. But that plan fails when she starts at Bradford College.
While hopeful to renew her relationship with her estranged father, she struggles to resist the advances of her persuasive tutoring student. But no one gets under her skin like her best friend’s playboy roommate, whose snarky smirk drives her up a wall…and into his bed.
But is Billie too broken to open her heart again?
If she can’t find closure with her father, she’ll close the door on love. But a huge fight with her father threatens to ruin any hope of healing her past and securing her future.
Here’s a peek inside:
By the time Zane and I finish at the Eyrie, it’s late, and with the final at eight, I want nothing more than to collapse on my bed and fall asleep. Holding a conversation with Zane is exhausting—both from the number of hours we’ve spent studying and from his unwavering attempts to hijack the conversation.
I kick off my shoes and drop my backpack at the foot of my bed before slipping into pajamas.
Thankfully, Val is elsewhere.
I lay my glasses on my desk and curl up under the covers.
Someone shoves a key in the door lock.
With a groan, I turn toward the wall and bury my head under the blanket, preparing for the bright fluorescent light that’s sure to follow.
“Hush,” Val says as the door creaks open, “I think she’s sleeping. That’s a first.” She shuffles inside the room, trying to avoid making noise, and opens her closet. “I’m going to grab a new shirt. This one has deodorant on it. Am I spending the night in your room or not?”
Her companion snorts, probably at her concern over deodorant. Xander—not that I’m surprised. “Who’re you trying to impress? We’re literally going across the hallway to have sex.”
She rifles through her closet, metal scraping against metal as she pushes hangers aside. “Should I wear this one? Or this one?”
There’s no sound for a moment.
“Well, your tits look great in the lacy one.”
“Xander! If I stay the night in your room, I might not have the time to come back for my stuff in the morning. I need to dress normally.”
“Right,” he says, sarcasm eating away at his voice, “we wouldn’t want you to do the two-doors-away walk of shame.”
Val huffs. “Which shirt?”
The mattress squeaks as he sits on her bed. “How the hell am I supposed to know? If you want a girl’s opinion, ask a fucking girl. Wake up Dixon and ask her.”
Dear God, no.
Val releases a low growl and returns to flipping through her closet. “Billie? Please! That bitch wouldn’t know fashion if it walked up to her naked and bit her on the ass.”
My grip tightens on the sheets, and for a while, the only sound is the scraping of hangers against the metal rod as she continues her quest for the perfect outfit, no longer concerned about the noise she’s making.
The bed squeaks again.
“Don’t call her that.” Xander’s words are so quiet I strain to hear them.
Val pauses, then resumes rifling through her clothes. “She’s such a snob—and what the hell does she have to feel superior about? Doesn’t she know everyone hates her?”
“That’s not true.”
She releases a mirthless laugh. “Fine, she has one friend—and she’s as much of a bitch to him as she is to everyone else.” She pulls out another hanger. “I’m wearing this one.”
“Then you don’t get their friendship. You don’t get her.”
“Are you seriously defending her right now? You have to deal with her bullshit more than anyone else because your roommate is the only one who can stand her. All she does is play on her laptop and draw in that stupid sketchbook anyway. She’s not so special.”
“Have you seen it?”
“Seen what? The sketchbook?” The empty hanger clatters to the hard floor. “Like she’d show me what’s inside.” Val’s voice is muffled. “It’s probably a bunch of stick figures, and she won’t show anyone because she wants people to think she’s amazing.”
“You never know,” Xander says noncommittally, “maybe she is amazing. I bet she’s too nervous to show anyone. She’s probably really good.”
“I highly doubt that. Now, how do I look?”
He groans. “Why does it matter if we’re just going to bed? Can we go now? Jimmy’s studying till they close the library. I told him to make himself scarce for a while.”
“Fine, let’s go.”
Their footsteps lead to the door, but they stop as Val fumbles in her purse.
“Oh, come on, I just had them.” She laughs triumphantly as she yanks her jingling keys free, and the door opens.
“Seriously, can we go already?”
Val scoffs, and her keys jingle again.
The door shuts behind them, and Val locks the deadbolt from outside.
I push the covers away to breathe and stretch across the mattress. Above me, the dark ceiling plays back the discussion. I can picture it all in my head down to the irritated crinkle between Xander’s eyebrows at her high-maintenance apparel needs. He’s sent me that same look often. But the way his voice sounded when he spoke about me: soft, pensive, kind—that’s new.
Billie Dixon’s bipolar mother wants her in therapy and won’t take no for an answer. Her sister wants her to act the role of perfect daughter and bridesmaid for her mother’s wedding. And Xander wants her to admit feelings that don’t exist.
But her infectiously bubbly housemate doesn’t think she needs therapy. When the two become fast friends, Dahlia provides Billie with the effortless companionship she craves. Plus a thirst-quenching solution for her depression. But a bottle of wine isn’t the best coping mechanism when your mom’s an alcoholic.
Can Billie trust her instincts before she loses herself?
Now, Billie must choose between her first female friend and her own mental health. If she doesn’t keep herself together, she’ll end up every bit the alcoholic as her mother.
After an eye-opening summer abroad, Billie Dixon’s world has fallen apart. Her childhood best friend has replaced her. Her boss at the gallery doesn’t think she’s paid enough dues to be a “real artist.” And Xander ignores her, even though they’re roommates. But she’s made her peace with that.
When her photography professor partners her with Dahlia Finnick, it’s only a matter of time before she intrudes on Billie’s life. And this time, Dahlia pursues what she’s always wanted—Billie—and she doesn’t care who she hurts in the process. Even if that person is the object of her affections.
Can Billie look past Dahlia’s faults and give her a second chance? Can she give one to herself?
Now, Billie has to choose between the acceptance she craves and the love she lost. But to mend her broken relationships, she must take her first leap of faith.