Spotlight: Fighting for Someday by M.M. Koenig

Genre: Contemporary Romance 

Bri McAndrews is the envy of every girl at Chamberlain and the one every guy wants at their side. What most people don’t know is that there’s so much more to her than the picture-perfect life everyone sees on the surface. Being the daughter of a power-hungry senator has her under constant scrutiny. Even though she’s used to being in the spotlight, it’s becoming harder to meet her father’s expectations. When Trey Donovan stereotypes her as just another spoiled, rich kid, she’s more than determined to show him he’s wrong about her, and she doesn’t care about the consequences it will have for her at home.

After giving the most popular guy in school a beat down he’ll never forget, Trey Donovan becomes more than just the new, all-star quarterback at Chamberlain. He’s the bad boy from the south side every girl is dying to have on their arm. Unfazed by his new popularity, Trey isn’t about to let his guard down. But keeping everyone at a distance becomes a challenge, especially whenever Bri is nearby. She’s way out of his social stratosphere and the one girl he shouldn’t even consider pursuing.

As Bri and Trey grow closer, more than a few vengeful people have a problem with it. Can their budding new relationship survive when so many people are set on keeping them apart?

**This book is a prequel to the Secrets and Lies series.*

Excerpt

My back hit the couch and I gasped to catch my breath after he pulled away. He stole a quick kiss, making my body tingle everywhere. I shoved at his chest and whined, “Don’t start something you’re not ready to finish, Trey. And as far as the card goes, I think you’re a better fit for it.”

Trey picked up a practice test from the coffee table. “Sorry, Bri. Your lips were taunting me. I’m taking this and then I promise I’ll pick up where I left off.”

I released a disgruntled huff and snatched my prep book. Somehow, an hour and a half passed and my vision was close to the cross-eyed point. I tried to work out my Calculus equation, but it made no fucking sense. When the numbers blurred together on the page, I placed my pencil into the book, slammed it shut, and tossed it on the floor. I kept my legs on Trey’s lap, but laid on my back, closed my eyes, and massaged my temples until the lingering pain between them faded. 

Trey caressed the tops of my thighs before moving to below my naval. I peeked at him and he eyed me like I was his favorite dessert. All the delectable tingles from earlier shot through every part of me. He straddled my legs around him and intertwined his tongue with mine. I gave way to it for a moment before giving his bottom lip a gentle bite and leaning back.

I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted to study, mister.”

Trey kissed along my neck and I rocked into him after he sucked below my earlobe. He nibbled on it and kissed along my jaw. Once he reached my lips again, he devoured my mouth until neither of us could breathe. 

He gave my nose a delicate kiss and rasped, “I am studying, baby.”

I panted. “What exactly are you learning, babe?”

Trey ran his hands up my sides and across my ribcage. “I can’t get those last two flashcards out of my head. I’m taking note of every curve on your body. I’m sure it’ll be relevant if any anatomy questions pop up on the test.”

I placed soft kisses along his jawline, loving how his stubble made me quiver. He brought my lips to his and picked up on our vigorous tongue dance. Our hands wandered all over as our mouths consumed one another. After we took a moment to get some much-needed air, I was on my back, staring at him as he hovered above me. 

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About M.M. Koenig 

M. M. Koenig enjoys being active and has a variety of interests that coincide with her passion for life. Always one to try new things, she has acquired a variety of skills. Her sarcastic nature and multitude of experiences tend to find their way into her novels.

When she has free time and isn't writing, she spends as much time as she can with friends and family. To fuel her soul, she is constantly looking for new music, movies, and books to keep the writer's block at bay.

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Spotlight: Agent Under Siege by Lena Diaz

Can they outsmart a killer …who’s already escaped justice?

The Kentucky Ripper is in prison…or is he? When no one will help Teagan Ray find the man who really abducted her, former profiler Bryson Anton agrees to investigate. But soon their search takes two jolting turns—brutal attacks from a cunning suspect…and a powerful mutual attraction.

Excerpt

Long before the shadow fell across the end of the dock and hovered over Bryson Anton’s wheelchair, he knew the man was there. Motion sensors and security cameras had made Bryson’s watch buzz against his wrist when the man parked his car in the driveway. More messages warned when the man crossed the back patio. And again, when he’d descended the gently sloping lawn that ended at the creek. Bryson didn’t care who was now standing behind him, as long as he didn’t have to engage in conversation.

“Nice place,” the man’s voice rang out. “Probably one of the highest views in the Tennessee side of the Smoky Mountains. I’ll bet at night you can see nearly every light in downtown Gatlinburg from here.”

Bryson sighed but didn’t turn around. “My former boss took pity on me after I got myself hurt on the job. He gave me a boatload of money, and I was selfish enough to take it and buy this property. But that doesn’t mean he can drop by any time he wants.”

“I’m still your boss. I haven’t accepted your resignation.” 

“That’s not how it works, Mason. I resigned, whether you accept it or not. I’ll never be a Justice Seeker again. I’m not going back to Camelot. You and your knights of the round table are better off without a washed-up former profiler jacking up your investigations.”

“Is that why you’re sitting out here drinking like a fish, because you think you jacked up everything?”

“Something like that.” Bryson grabbed a can of beer from the cooler beside his wheelchair and popped the top. He took a deep long swallow, more to irritate his unwelcome visitor than because he wanted it.

Mason retrieved a beer and eyed the label, then tossed it back unopened. “Fish biting?”

“Do you see a fishing pole around here somewhere?” Bryson emptied his can in the water and dropped it on his lap before wheeling around. “Enjoy the view as long as you want. You paid for it.” He rolled his chair up the flagstone walkway toward the house.

“Dalton and Hayley missed you at their wedding last week.” Mason fell into step beside him.

“Yeah, well. I didn’t have time to learn the latest dance steps.” He stopped at the sliding glass doors and tossed the empty beer can in the recycle bin. When he reached for the door handle, Mason leaned past him and held it closed.

Bryson swore. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to do your job. A new client came to Camelot yesterday. She specifically wants to hire you.”

He scoffed. “You expect me to believe she asked for a washed-up former FBI agent to screw up her case so someone else will die? If she did, send her on over. I can accomplish that without lifting a finger.”

Mason leaned back against the door. “That’s a heck of a guilty conscience you’re nursing. Or are you just feeling sorry for yourself?” He waved toward the wheelchair. “If you’d actually go to your physical therapy appointments instead of being a no-show half the time, you’d be out of that thing by now. Don’t look so surprised. I pay your insurance premiums. I see what’s billed. And there’ve been a surprising lack of medical invoices lately. You’ve given up, Bryson. The question is why?”

“Why?” he gritted out. “Let me remind you that when I was the FBI’s golden boy, everyone treated my profiles like biblical text. So when I presented them with a profile for the Kentucky Ripper, they focused all their efforts on Avarice Lowe, the suspect at the top of my list. Meanwhile, Leviathan Finney—the real Ripper—was no longer under surveillance. To celebrate, he kidnapped and gutted another woman. Because of me, he was able to kill again.”

“Because of you, the police were able to significantly narrow their list of suspects much faster than they could have otherwise. The choices they made after that weren’t your fault. Hell, Bryson. If it wasn’t for the work you did, it would have taken far longer to catch the Ripper and put him in prison.”

“Tell that to the family of the last woman he killed.”

Mason shook his head. “I hear someone anonymously sends money to the last victim’s family every month. While I admire the generosity and kindness of the gesture, that person is making payments on a debt he doesn’t owe. The only person responsible for that woman’s death is the man who killed her—Leviathan Finney.”

Bryson fisted his hands on the arms of the wheelchair. “Are we about done here? It’s getting late.”

“Big plans tonight?”

“I have to wash my hair.”

Mason let out a deep sigh. “Just explain one thing, then I’ll go. Why now? You left the FBI over three years ago and started working for me as one of the Justice Seekers. Why is the Ripper case bothering you again after all this time?”

Bryson stared at him incredulously. “Bothering me again? It never stopped bothering me. But I tried to make something good from the bad, atone for my sins by working investigations for you. And what did I do? I nearly got Hayley killed, got myself shot and here I sit with shrapnel they can’t dig out of my hip without risking the loss of my leg. Do I sit here feeling sorry for myself? No. I don’t deserve anyone’s sympathy, least of all my own. The people who deserve sympathy are the ones I’ve hurt, those who nearly died because of me, and the one who did. Accept my resignation and leave me alone. I’m not going to risk hurting anyone else. I’m done.”

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About the Author

 Lena's heart belongs to the rolling hills of her homestate of Kentucky. But you're more likely to see her near the ocean these days in northeast Florida where she resides with her hubby and two children. A former Romance Writers of America's Golden Heart® finalist, she's also a four-time winner of the Daphne du Maurier award and a Publisher's Weekly Bestseller. When not writing, she can be found sprucing up her flower beds or planning her next DIY project.

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Spotlight: Her Texas New Year's Wish by Michelle Major

Can you fall head over heels And land on your feet?

When Grace Williams topples from the balcony at the soon-to-open Hotel Fortune, the last thing she expects is to find love with her new bosses’ brother. Wiley Fortune is visiting from Chicago, and the polished attorney has looks, money and charm to spare. But Grace’s past makes her wary of investing her heart—and risking her job. Do a small-town Texan and a city sophisticate really have a chance?

From Harlequin Special Edition: Believe in love. Overcome obstacles. Find happiness.

Excerpt

“I wouldn’t drink that if I were you.”

Wiley Fortune plucked the glass from his sister’s hand and placed it back on the polished mahogany bar.

Nicole gave him a funny look. “It’s water, Wi. Roja is providing the food for this party. I may be a guest, but I’m also still on the clock.”

“I know it’s water.” Wiley tugged on the end of Nicole’s long blond hair, the way he used to do when they were kids. “That’s my point.”

Nicole, Ashley and Megan Fortune—the triplets—had been born seven years after Wiley, miracle babies in every sense of the word. Their parents, David and Marci, had married after a whirlwind courtship, marriages in a way that would have made Carol Brady’s head spin back in the day.

The boys had gotten off to a bit of a rocky start as they attempted to figure out their roles in the new family. Everything had changed when his mom gave birth to Stephanie five years later. One thing all four boys could agree on was how much they adored their baby sister. Mom had hoped to add another sibling to the mix right away, but she’d had trouble conceiving. Although she’d tried to hide her emotional pain and physical exhaustion, Wiley knew that season of loss had taken a toll on her.

Wiley loved every member of his family, but he’d been a quiet, introverted kid and it was a lot to grow up in such a big, boisterous family. Maybe that fact had something to do with the distance that had seemed to grow between him and the rest of his siblings.

He was the only one who hadn’t migrated to the quaint town of Rambling Rose, Texas, although they’d convinced him to visit over Christmas and return for his cousin Adam Fortune’s son’s first birthday party.

“What’s wrong with the water in Rambling Rose?” Nicole asked, scrunching her perfect nose.

“It’s obviously tainted,” Wiley said, keeping his features neutral and using the same tone with her that he did for contract negotiations in his law firm back in Chicago. “Look around at all the nauseatingly happy couples here tonight. Something happens with the sweet nurse and her adorable twin toddlers, Sasha and Luna.

“It’s the water,” he repeated. “Or they’ve all been stricken by the Texas heat. Even Steven is all googly-eyed for his lady. I barely recognize my own brothers.”

A second sister, Megan, let out a mild laugh as she approached from the other side of him and helped herself to a sip of his drink. “If you don’t recognize your brothers, it’s because you spend too much time on your own.”

“I’m here now,” Wiley muttered.

“Because Mom guilted you into it,” Megan reminded him. She, Nicole and Ashley looked almost identical with their shiny hair and delicate features. They’d followed their brothers to Rambling Rose and opened a farm-to-table restaurant, Provisions, to a great deal of success. Megan was the most serious of the trio and handled the finances for both Provisions and Roja, located inside the Hotel Fortune, which was due to open in just over a month. Nicole was the more flamboyantly creative and was using her culinary skills to create an innovative menu for Roja as the restaurant’s executive chef. Ashley took on the role of bossy micromanager in the best way possible, and as the general manager for Provisions.

“Wiley thinks Rambling Rose is a bad influence on all of us because the Fortunes are falling in love here.”

“You could use some more love in your life.”

Megan poked a finger into his biceps. “You work too much.”

“How would you know? I live in Chicago. Don’t tell me you’re keeping tabs on my life from halfway across the country.” Wiley felt heat prick the back of his neck as his sisters exchanged a knowing glance. He didn’t think he’d sounded defensive, but this was the reason he skipped so many family gatherings. There was no privacy to be had once his brothers and sisters got involved.

“All you talk about is work,” Megan answered, smoothing a hand over her cream-colored sweater.

“I like my job.” Wiley took a long drink of whiskey, welcoming the burn of the liquor in his throat. “It’s fascinating.”

“Contract law isn’t fascinating.” Nicole laughed. “The restaurant business is fascinating. It’s always evolving.”

“Not to mention there’s no shortage of yummy food to taste,” Megan added.

“Being an attorney is fascinating to me,” Wiley grumbled.

“Because you need more excitement in your life.” Nicole turned to him. “Don’t you long for a change, Wi? For years, you’ve been at the same firm in the same position—”

“And living in the same condo.” Megan fist-bumped her sister.

“I’m stable and consistent,” Wiley told them.

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About the Author

USA Today bestselling author Michelle Major loves stories of new beginnings, second chances and always a happily ever after. An avid hiker and avoider of housework, she lives in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains with her husband, two teenagers and a menagerie of spoiled furbabies. Connect with her at www.michellemajor.com.

Connect:

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Spotlight: Running Away with the Bride by Sophia Singh Sasson

Stop the wedding! Steal the bride! And fall for a perfect stranger?

Billionaire Ethan Connors vows to stop his ex’s wedding so they can be together. But crashing the wrong nuptials and spiriting away the wrong wife-to-be is more than he bargained for! Divya Singh is beautiful, talented, passionate…and from a traditional Indian family who won’t accept him as a match for their daughter. Can Divya and Ethan’s unexpected relationship stay the course or will one of them run again?

Excerpt

“Stop this wedding!”

Ethan Connors searched the stage on the back lawn of the Mahal Hotel where a mandap had been set up. The couple was seated on floor-level settees under a pergola-like structure in front of a small fire. A priest dressed in loose orange clothing chanted and threw things into the fire, making it crackle and smoke.

Ethan wished he’d paid more attention to the wedding sequence the one time he’d been to an Indian wedding with Pooja. He had no idea if he’d made it in time to stop hers.

At his outcry, the bride, groom and the dozen or so people surrounding them looked at him with surprise. The priest froze and the chatter of the crowd behind Ethan died. He could feel the stares of hundreds of guests on him. He tried to catch Pooja’s eyes but the heavy bridal veil covered her head and fell halfway across her face. The smoke from the fire swirled around her. He looked at the older Indian couple seated next to her. Were they Pooja’s parents? If the glare they were shooting him was any indication, they were.

A knot twisted in his stomach. After six months of dating, including three months of living together, she’d never introduced him to her parents, and he couldn’t pick them out based on the pictures he’d seen on her bookshelf.

A younger man seated next to the bride stood and made his way to Ethan. “I don’t know who you are but you’re interrupting my sister’s wedding. You best leave quietly before I call security.” The man’s voice was low and icy.

But Ethan was determined he wasn’t going to lose her again. He may have come to his senses in the eleventh hour, but he was going to save himself, and Pooja. She’d known the guy sitting next to her for three months. How could she marry him? I want to know my husband and be sure that we’re compatible, she’d said to Ethan. He and Pooja were compatible. Why hadn’t he seen that sooner? When she’d first brought up marriage—and how her family wouldn’t approve of her relationship with a white Midwesterner unless he put a ring on her finger—he’d thought he needed more time to figure things out. But what was left to think about? He was pushing forty. His brother was ten years younger and had been married for nine years and had two kids. Pooja was the only woman who had deemed him worthy enough to even discuss marriage. He wasn’t going to let her get away a second time.

Pooja was now standing, but Ethan still couldn’t get a clear line of sight through the crowd that was gathering around him. He hadn’t spoken to her since she walked out three months ago, but she’d sent him an email telling him she was getting married today. Why would she do that if she didn’t want him to make a grand gesture? It would’ve been helpful if she’d sent him some details other than that her groom was planning “a grand baarat down the Vegas strip.” He’d spent the entire morning driving up and down the strip, looking for a groom on a horse surrounded by a bunch of people dancing. The traditional Indian baarat, the arrival of the groom’s party, would be hard to miss, or so he thought. He’d been on the other side of the strip when he’d heard on the radio that traffic was snarled because of an Indian wedding, and he’d driven like a madman to get there.

He had charged in ready to take on the world, or at least a bunch of angry relatives, but now doubt snaked its way through him. Did Pooja really want him to rescue her? And how the hell was he going to get out of the hotel without hundreds of guests and hotel security guards stopping him?

Take off your veil and look at me, Pooja. He wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to succumb to her parents’ pressure and marry whichever Tom, Dick or Hari they had found for her. He was ready to step up and make a commitment.

Another man who bore a family resemblance to the one who’d identified himself as Pooja’s brother broke through the crowd and strode toward him. Who knew how many family members there were, and Ethan had zero backup. When will you stop being so impulsive? His mother’s familiar recrimination blared in his head.

He focused on Pooja, who was clearly looking in his direction, despite the veil on her face. “I’m sorry I was such an ass and didn’t realize how much you meant to me. I want to marry you. Run away with me.” Brother One whispered something into a phone, no doubt calling security. “We must go now!”

“Yo dude, this isn’t some Hollywood film. What do you think you’re doing?” Brother Number Two was now within punching distance and didn’t seem quite as reserved as Brother One. “My sister doesn’t know who you are. Get out before I…” He pulled his arm back, clearly preparing to punch Ethan in the face.

“Wait!” Pooja’s voice sounded strange.

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About the Author

 Sophia puts her childhood habit of daydreaming to good use by writing stories that will give you hope, make you laugh, cry and possibly snort tea from your nose. She was born in Mumbai, India, and has lived in the Canary Islands, Spain and Toronto, Canada. Currently she calls the madness of Washington, DC, home. She loves to read, travel to exotic locations, bake, scuba dive and watch Bollywood movies. Contact her through http://SophiaSasson.com.

Connect:

Website: http://SophiaSasson.com 

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Spotlight: The Surprise Bollywood Baby by Tara Pammi

Bollywood is in for a shock when these ex-lovers are bound together by their baby in this emotional pregnancy romance by Tara Pammi.

Falling for a Bollywood superstar…

…leads to the shock of a lifetime!

For actress Zara Khan, a pretend romance with an old flame, director Virat Raawal, is the ideal story to feed the press—and halt her family’s attempts to marry her off. But after sparks reignite one scorching night, she has a very real pregnancy to go with their fake relationship…

Virat is determined to do the right thing and claim Zara as his wife. He offers her everything in the world…save for the heart that he’s locked firmly away. The trouble is, Zara will only wed for love!

From Harlequin Presents: Escape to exotic locations where passion knows no bounds.

Read all the Born into Bollywood books:

Book 1: Claiming His Bollywood Cinderella

Book 2: The Surprise Bollywood Baby

Excerpt

She was up to something.

Zara Khan, actress extraordinaire and astute businesswoman, should be firmly embedded in his distant past but kept shimmering like an enticing beacon in his present. No, strike that. She was more like a niggling thorn lodged in his skin.

And damn it all to hell, but Virat Raawal felt every inch of him practically vibrating with an anticipation and excitement he hadn’t tasted in a long time. He ran a hand through his hair, cursing his tunnel focus on his current project for the last eighteen months.

From the moment he had stepped into the banquet hall and found her watching him with undisguised attention, Virat had known something was afoot. Tracking his every move from that wide-eyed gaze. Making his skin prickle with awareness.

She couldn’t have been more obvious if she’d thrown herself at him—all grace and curves and self-confidence oozing out of every inch of flawless skin she revealed.

No wonder his long-denied libido was now wagging its tail like an excited puppy at the sight of a much-coveted fancy treat.

Because that was what Zara was to him. A delicious treat that made him act like a man barely out of his teens, riding the roller coaster of horniness and emotional turbulence all over again.

Even after all these years. Even after he’d reminded himself countless times that she’d made her choice a long time ago. That she’d left no doubt as to whom she preferred, between the famous Vikram Raawal—the uncrowned king of Bollywood who’d slogged night and day for years, to save his family and the prestigious Raawal House of Cinema from dire straits—or him, Virat Raawal, the man whose questionable paternity was always a fan-favorite topic of conversation on the weekly chai-and-chat shows.

In the decade since she’d used him to climb up the ladder of success, Virat had built up a reputation both within the industry and with the critics—a reputation that his grandfather and cinema visionary Vijay Raawal had garnered more than half a century ago. A reputation and a body of work that had every artist in the industry salivating to work with him.

Even though they’d regularly butted heads on the direction of the family’s production house, Virat had always had Vikram’s support. The brothers’ bond had been borne out of their parents’ incapability to provide them with a modicum of emotional and mental stability in their lives. So Virat had actively worked on not letting the bitterness of Zara’s choice or her long-standing relationship with his brother rot the bond between himself and Vikram. And he’d succeeded for the most part.

While he’d never understood their relationship, he’d left it alone. And now, with his brother about to marry the lovely Naina and the resulting nasty rumors about Vikram breaking Zara’s heart, Virat had been thinking a lot more about their purported, decade-long relationship.

Tucking his hands into his trouser pockets, he absently nodded at some comment on his left when the subtle hint of Zara’s scent hit his nostrils. Virat stiffened, as if bracing himself against an oncoming attack. He didn’t have to turn and look at her to know that she had sidled up to him, closer than a woman he hardly ever talked to in ten years should have done.

Her bare arm rubbed up against his, the warmth of her curvaceous body a teasing caress. Virat scowled and was about to ask her what the hell she was up to when the roaming strobe light focused on them both and a cheer went up around the hall.

An announcement flashed on the huge screen propped at the top corner next to the stage just as a short, bespectacled woman announced his and Zara’s names together as the primary investors in the web mag, calling out giveaways including and not limited to scholarships for female junior college students, a featured monthly charity drive for innovative small businesses from around the country’s rural villages, and an opportunity for the chosen SuperWoman of the month to meet Zara and Virat. As their schedules allowed, of course.

“Shall we, darling?” Zara said then, loosely linking her arm through his, in that husky voice of hers that he could recognize in his sleep.

He turned his head to look at her then, beyond stunned. And Virat knew that everyone in the hall was watching them, with the same wide-eyed fascination that Zara was faking as she looked at him.

As if he was the answer to all her dreams and wishes.

Their gazes met and the world around them seemed to stand still. With her silky hair in a soft cut framing her sharp-angled face, Zara was the consummate actress. Her eyes shone with some inner resolve he couldn’t read and the smile she offered him was wide and not in the least bit awkward. The lush lower lip painted a soft pink taunted him.

With her palm pressed to his chest, she winked at him and pouted. His blood pressure went up another notch, shock and desire twining into an inseparable rope. “I know you don’t like PDAs, sweetie, but you promised to do this with me, remember?” Her thigh bumped against his when she leaned closer and it was a miracle that he didn’t jump away like a scalded cat. Or more like an outraged heroine fending off the caricature villain in one of his brother’s latest box-office hits.

He noted the flare of awareness in her eyes before she pulled back. Reaching for her waist, Virat twirled her out of earshot of the rest of the group, keeping his own expression mildly amused. She came as easily as if she were floating on air, her face barely betraying her shock. He pushed her against the far wall, and the circle of light followed them.

“Now what the hell are you playing at, shahzadi?” he whispered, while she clasped her hands at the nape of his neck. The slide of her soft fingers there sent tension and desire rolling through him in fast waves.

Her breath was a silky caress against his jaw as she whispered, “It’s all for a good cause, Virat. Play along, won’t you?”

“Play along as what? Your latest boy toy?”

She laughed and shrugged. “Something like that, yes.”

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About the Author

Tara Pammi can't remember a moment when she wasn't lost in a book, especially a romance which, as a teenager, was much more exciting than mathematics textbook. Years later Tara’s wild imagination and love for the written word revealed what she really wanted to do: write! She lives in Colorado with the most co-operative man on the planet and two daughters. Tara loves to hear from readers and can be reached at tara.pammi@gmail.com or her website www.tarapammi.com.

Connect:

Website: https://www.tarapammi.com/ 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6468588.Michelle_Major 

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Spotlight: Broken by Evelyn Sola

He swept into my life, like an unexpected storm. One minute I’m planning forever and the next, I’m left picking up the pieces. Three years have passed and now he’s back wanting to reclaim what once was. Can lightning strike twice or will they be left broken? Readers who love second chance romances will enjoy this diverse, contemporary romance. 

Read Now! 

Amazon → https://amzn.to/3hNpCxF

JULIA
I never saw Noah Weston coming. He swept into my life like an unexpected storm, but soon, he was everything to me.
Until tragedy struck.
One day I was planning the rest of my life with my soulmate, and the next I was picking up the pieces of a love so strong, it broke me apart.
It took three years to put myself back together.
Three years until I was ready to move on.
I’ll never forget it. The day he came back.
Can lightening strike twice? Maybe, but when I look into his eyes, all I remember are the last words he ever spoke to me.
The words that left me broken.

NOAH
I loved her before I knew her name. She was more than just my heartbeat. Julia Blake was a dream too good to be true.
When real life invaded the bubble we had created, I was left a broken man.
I survived, but I was dead inside. Half the man I used to be.
The half I needed had a new life without me.
Three years later, I’m back to reclaim what I’ve lost.
I’m back for her, only she wants nothing to do with me.

Excerpt

Copyright 2021 @Evelyn Sola

 “Oh, really?” I take one shoe off and throw it at him as hard as possible. He manages to move before it makes contact. He’s not so lucky with the second shoe, and it hits him right on the shoulder. “Here! Take them! And for the last time, this is not our anniversary! You broke up with me, remember? This is a Friday night, and I planned on going out with a man I’m interested in getting to know and possibly fuck. Do you know why? Because I’m single!”
“Girl, watch your mouth. Don’t make me call your momma,” Mr. Hampton yells.
All the neighbors stare, waiting to see what we do next. Anger fuels my next steps as I stomp my way back to my house, but Noah and Greg are right behind me. A few of the neighbors have now stepped off their porch to stand on the sidewalk.
“You guys want a show?” I shout.
“Bring it, girl,” someone answers back.
“This is what I’m going to do with your anniversary flowers, you lying, selfish jerk.” I open the door and grab the arrangement. I walk to the middle of the street, lift it above my head, and slam it to the ground with all the strength I can muster. The vase shatters in the middle of the street, the two dozen roses bounce on the pavement, and the water from the vase rolls down the concrete. “Happy fucking anniversary, you liar! Go to hell or go back to your racist parents. I don’t care which, just stay the fuck away from me, or I swear to God, that limp will be the least of your problems!”
“Leave my parents out of this! This is between us, and for the record, I haven’t talked to them in months.”
“Sure. You managed to buy a house on your teacher’s salary, right? That’s realistic considering you’ve had the job for two months. Maybe you used your nonexistent teaching bonus as a down payment? God, you’re a liar, and I hate myself for never seeing you for the dishonest person that you are!”
“Why do you keep calling me a liar? What the fuck do you think I lied about?” he yells.
“You lied about everything!” I scream so loud I can feel the vein in my neck pulsing. I take a step closer and point my finger in his face. “I love you, Li. You’re my world, Li. I want you to have my baby, Li. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Li.” I do a poor imitation of his voice as I scream in his face. “And you let me believe you were a struggling student just like me, not the son of millionaires. Everything about you is a lie. Our entire relationship was an illusion.”
“I meant all of that! I still want all of that with you, and I never told you I was struggling. We never even talked about money. Everything I said was true. Every feeling. I love you so much, it physically hurts to breathe sometimes.”

About the Author

A Boston native, wife, mother, and wine enthusiast. If she’s not writing, thinking about writing, you will find Evelyn with a book in her hands. While a new publisher, she’s been writing for years, and she will continue to write for many years to come.  
Evelyn is obsessed with assertive and confident men who will stop at nothing to get their woman. Her stories are filled with love, passion and humor. 
She currently lives in Chicago, IL with her husband and two daughters.

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