Publication date: January 29th 2018
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Suspense
He died that night, alone, in the rain, in the dark, the boy that called me baby girl.
I was only seventeen; we were going to be together forever.
On his way to pick me up for prom, he swerved. I’ll never know what made him do it, what killed the boy I’d loved my whole life. With roses clutched in his hand, he bled out in icy wetness all alone.
His best friend is here though, and I’m pretty sure he loves me.
But after the accident, I left for a year and didn’t look back.
Now I’m back in town and my heart is like shattered glass.
Do I pick up the pieces and risk getting cut? And do I let another boy call me baby girl?
This is an emotional story of how love changes and grows, even from the deepest pain.
After her fiancé dies, Embry is convinced she will never be normal, never be whole again. Pushing away her family and closest friend, she runs away from it all to college. An emergency visit home reopens all the wounds she’s kept hidden, but many surprises await her as she, reluctantly, begins letting in that close friend she ran away from 416 days before.
The author handled the issues of grief, young love, soulmates & hope in a way that was not only comforting, but made for good reading, as well.
I voluntarily read & reviewed an ARC of this book.
“Almost there in your terms or almost there in mine?” I ask and he chuckles again, the warm, low sound sliding across my skin like hot fingertips.
“Forty-five minutes thereabouts,” he says, and I breathe a sigh of relief. “But we’ll have to venture off the road and into the water again.” I groan but Phoenix bumps me playfully with his shoulder, scalding me with heat. “It’s safe out dere, not like at the shop.” His eyes darken and I can tell he thinks he made a mistake by letting me stay there. “I’m sorry, Embry—”
I cut him off before he can keep going.
“Please don’t apologize. The reason I stayed at the shop was to protect you.”
“You protect me?” he grumbles and then he’s licking his lips and glancing away sharply, curling his hands into fists. “I’m such a fuckin’ idiot, getting you dragged into this shit. I shouldn’t have let you stay there. It occurred to me, yeah, that they might come looking for me, but not like that. And I didn’t think they’d recognize you none or even care. Girls don’t have to show back up as long as they keep dere mouths shut.”
He rubs a hand over his face.
“Do we have a plan for after we get to the cabin?” I ask and Phoenix gives me this … look that I don’t know how to interpret. My breath catches and I glance away sharply.
“What kinda plan you thinkin’ about?” he asks me, and his voice is so rumbly and low that I feel this tightening in my lower belly, this primal pull that I could almost swear Phoenix is in control of. He gives a metaphorical tug and my body responds like it’s on a string.
“Not that sort of plan,” I whisper back, touching my fingers absently to my lips. Phoenix notices and laughs again, that warm easy chuckle that cuts through the night and swirls around me. “I’m not having sex with you.”
“We’re both naked and wet and aroused and you don’t know think we gonna fuck?” he asks, stopping in the middle of the road and just staring at me with that heavy-lidded gaze of his. Phoenix’s eyes are the color of starlight through clouds, a soft, muted gray that draws me in even when I don’t want it to.
“I chose him, not you, Phoenix,” I say, and then I hate myself as soon as the words leave my mouth. My stomach clenches tight, and with the extensive bruises, it hurts.
“I know dat,” he tells me, voice husky and thick. “But I don’t care.”
C.M. Stunich is a self-admitted bibliophile with a love for exotic teas and a whole host of characters who live full time inside the strange, swirling vortex of her thoughts. Some folks might call this crazy, but Caitlin Morgan doesn’t mind – especially considering she has to write biographies in the third person. Oh, and half the host of characters in her head are searing hot bad boys with dirty mouths and skillful hands (among other things). If being crazy means hanging out with them everyday, C.M. has decided to have herself committed.
She hates tapioca pudding, loves to binge on cheesy horror movies, and is a slave to many cats. When she’s not vacuuming fur off of her couch, C.M. can be found with her nose buried in a book or her eyes glued to a computer screen. She’s the author of over thirty novels – romance, new adult, fantasy, and young adult included. Please, come and join her inside her crazy. There’s a heck of a lot to do there.
Oh, and Caitlin loves to chat (incessantly), so feel free to e-mail her, send her a Facebook message, or put up smoke signals. She’s already looking forward to it.