Cover Re-Reveal: Jordan’s Shadow by T.R. Cupak

Jordan’s Shadow by T.R. Cupak

Dark Erotic Romance

Release Date: 29 September 2017

Cover Designer: BexHarper Designs

Cover Model: Drew Leighty

Photographer: Travis Lane

 

Blurb

 

Jordan’s life started out privileged. Aside from being the daughter of not so affectionate parents, she never wanted for anything.  She was fortunate enough to receive affection from her nanny, Hannah, who for the most part was the mother figure in her life since her own mother’s sole purpose in life was to please her husband and no one else.

Tragedy struck when her father had a sudden heart attack, changing Jordan’s life forever.  Who knew one person’s death would set off a chain of unfortunate events leading Jordan down a dark desolate path?

The once privileged girl who should be attending debutant balls, dating the son of one of the most prestigious family’s in their community is now a runaway; all because of one fateful night, at the ripe age of seventeen, that turned her into a drug addict who sells her body in order to survive.  All Jordan has to look forward to is The Shadow.  A man she’s never laid eyes upon since she’s always blindfolded when he orders her services.

The Shadow, a man with a plan who finds comfort in revenge and a strong desire to show Jordan that she too can exact revenge, but will she seek the type of revenge he offers.  Will it be too late for her to turn her life around?  Will she trust the only man she doesn’t fear once she learns his true identity?

(blurb is subject to change)

Prologue

*Unedited*

I was born privileged.  My father, Merrick Fillmore, was a ruthless venture capitalist that preyed on young, naïve college graduates who harvested brilliant business ideas.  He would proposition money-hungry men and women with the funding they needed to make their dreams a reality.  Little did they know they were selling their souls to the devil himself.  All of my father’s business transactions were legitimate on each contract these poor suckers signed.  It wasn’t his fault they signed without reading the fine print.  Nothing he did was illegal— just evil.

Vivian, the woman whom I referred to as Mother, was my father’s eye candy.  She was only an accessory to his custom-tailored suits and tuxedos.  She had the classic beauty, elegance, and most importantly, the aristocratic upbringing a man like Merrick would marry for status, not love.  Her only job was to be at my dad’s beckon call.

Needless to say, our small family was not known to be affectionate.  The only true affection I received growing up was from my nanny, Hannah.  It didn’t take a genius to figure out I was Hannah’s daughter.  The older I got, the more I began to resemble her while showing zero signs of Vivian’s pristine bloodline.  When you’re told a woman with silk-like raven hair and skin like a porcelain doll is your mother, it’s a bit disconcerting to look into the mirror to see my father’s olive complexion while my thick sandy-blonde hair, deep blue eyes, facial features, and athletic frame, mimic all that is Hannah.

I eventually found out the truth about Merrick, Vivian, and Hannah.  My dad had an affair with Hannah while she was his personal assistant, resulting in a pregnancy.  In an effort to keep her and his child close, my parents concocted a story that Vivian couldn’t bear children so Hannah was propositioned to be their surrogate.  Whoever bought that bullshit lie needed to get their heads examined.  This day and age, it is a standard way of life to cheat on your spouse.  At least that’s how I saw it.

Shortly after my fifteenth birthday Merrick had a heart attack that took him from us unexpectedly.  I was grateful that Hannah was there for me after my father’s passing.  She was the comforting support system I needed.  Sadly, I lost Hannah to breast cancer not too long after my dad.  Loneliness and depression began to take hold of me.  All I had left was Vivian, the woman who barely acknowledged my existence, and for a lack of a better word, friends who were too wrapped up in their lives to give two fucks about me.  It was after Hannah died that Vivian had my therapist put me on prescription medication for anxiety and depression.  I guess you could say that’s where my drug addiction began.

As if things weren’t already bad, my mother didn’t know how to be single.  Even though she had enough money to live three wealthy lifetimes, she was used to being someone’s property. That’s when the revolving door of suitors began.  The men that frequented the house were only after one thing; my father’s money; that is until Armen Montgomery walked into our lives.

Armen promised Vivian the world and she accepted it.  He was a handsome real estate investor that was born into money.  That made him the first suitor who didn’t need my dad’s money.  Armen was doting, caring and loving.  He made us a family, at least for a little while.
∞∞∞

             It was a warm, late summer evening before my senior year of high school.  Max, my boyfriend for just over a year and I, were driving up the tree lined, gravel driveway to my colonial style home. We had spent a perfect day at the beach with a group of our friends.  I knew what he was going to ask the second his Range Rover stopped in front of my house.  Just like any other day, the question is asked, “Babe, do you want me to come in with you?”

            I did my best not to roll my eyes at what the true meaning behind that question was.  “It’s late, Max, and I’m tired.”  I quickly add a yawn to the end of my sentence for good measure.

            He glanced over at the three unfamiliar vehicles parked near the six-car garage that replicated the style of the home it sat next to.  Vivian had gone out of town which meant Armen had brought his business meeting home.  This wasn’t an uncommon ritual even when my mother was home.

Max’s attention quickly returned back to me, his molten chocolate eyes giving away his horny teenage intentions, with a shimmer of hope that I would change my mind.

            “Seriously babe, I’m tired and I am going straight up to bed— to sleep,” I repeated, with emphasis on the last two words. After swinging the vehicle door open, I leaned over the center console to kiss his pouty lips goodbye and then quickly jumped out of the SUV.  I snagged my bag off of the floor, asking Max to text me when he got home before closing the door in effort to avoid verbal begging.  I swear his begging was the only unattractive thing about him.  If he could stop that one little annoyance, he would be absolutely perfect.

            Feeling bad for not inviting Max in, I turned to blow my obviously sulking boyfriend a kiss before going inside.  The weak smile I received in return for my caring gesture evoked the eye roll I held back earlier.  “Boys,” I muttered under my breath before entering the house.

            It didn’t take long before the sound of male voices filled the silence.  Their deep voices rang out from the library that was off to the right of the front entrance.  Cigar smoke made its way from the opened doors, encasing me with a spicy scent.  From what I could make out, the gentlemen were talking animatedly about sports which could only mean one thing; they were done with business for the night and moved onto indulging their pallets with one of Armen’s expensive bottles of scotch that paired nicely with the hand-rolled Cuban cigars.

“Lezleigh, is that you?” Armen’s voice echoed out through the quiet foyer.

To be polite I made my way over to the double walnut doors that lead into the library, peeping my head in to find my stepdad standing by the bar refilling his snifter while three other men in tailored suits were occupying the large, high-back antique leather chairs by the fireplace. This was my by far my favorite room in the house.  It was my reading haven when the house was empty and I wanted a cozy place to read while being surrounded by hundreds of literary geniuses that sat prominently on the built-in wooden shelves.  The smell of the freshly polished wood and the leather of the chairs only added to the whole reading experience.

“Yep, just me.  I’m headed to bed.  You gentlemen have a great evening,” I answered with a quick flash of a smile and quickly headed up the two flights of stairs that took me to my third-floor bedroom in the west wing of the house.  I couldn’t quite make out what the men had said upon my retreat as I learned a long time ago to tune out any of my step-father’s business acquaintances.  The one thing I could be sure of, it was most likely inappropriate.

Ever since I grew out of the gangly teenager stage and began to look more like a young woman, the men Armen would bring around always stared at me like I was a piece of meat.  Again, it was another reason to ignore them.

As I cleared the last step and began my trek down the hallway, I couldn’t help the sadness I felt when I passed Hannah’s old room.  She was my biological mother and even after the truth came out about her and Merrick’s affair, I still wasn’t permitted to call her Mom, not even in the privacy of our home.  Now she was gone and I would never get to tell her how much I loved her.

From the time I was old enough to understand, Hannah had always told me to be a strong, independent woman who didn’t need to depend on a man for happiness because in the end, it could ruin me.  I could see it in her eyes that she was referring to her relationship with my father.  My heart broke a little more with that memory.

After my quick shower I finished my evening ritual of brushing my teeth and changing into my boyshorts and tank top in preparation for bed.  Before climbing into bed, I took one of my anti-depressant medications.  The medication seemed to help the lingering sadness when I would have memories of Hannah or my dad.

Just as I snuggled comfortably into my plush, king size, four-poster bed, my phone chimed, lighting up with a picture of Max and I at the beach earlier in the summer.  He had on a baseball cap that shaded his eyes from the bright sun, but his impeccable smile was beaming as his chin rested upon my shoulder for what was probably our millionth selfie.

Max:  Home, babe. I wish I was in ur bed :(

Me:  Glad ur home. I’ll c u 2morrow

Max:  Nite. <3 u.

Me: Sweet dreams. <3 u.
∞∞∞

     I don’t know how long I had been asleep, but I was awakened suddenly by four sets of hands gripping at each of my limbs.  I had always been a light sleeper so I was more surprised that I had no warning when they entered my room.  The stench of cigar and liquor alone should have been enough to warn me.

“What are you doing,” I screamed while trying to wriggle out of their clutches.

“Don’t fight this, LJ.  It will only hurt more if you do,” Armen’s slurred voice whispered by my ear.  Dread surfaced when I found it nearly impossible to speak.

“What does that even mean?”  I finally croaked out, still fighting to break free from the hands that held me in place.

I couldn’t make out any faces in the dark room, but each voice I heard in the shadows was distinctly different.  One had a southern drawl, maybe Texas or Louisiana.  Another voice whispered and I picked up on the East Coast New York or Jersey slang.  The last stranger had a foreign accent, maybe Australian, but it was hard to tell with the thundering sound of my heart pounding.  At least I thought it was my heart.

Terrified, my fear kicked into another gear.  I continued to thrash around in effort to break free, but sadly I was no match for these strong men.  I exerted myself with my failed attempts to break free.  I began to feel what I could only assume were each man’s neckties being secured around both of my ankles and wrists; then tied to my bed posts.  The tears had begun to stream down my heated cheeks.  All I could think about is how I should have let Max stay the night.  Never in my life did I think I would be raped let alone raped in my own home, in my own bedroom, by grown men; one being my step-father.

“She’s a sweet lil thing, ain’t she, Armen?” the man with a southern accent remarked as I felt what I could only assume was his hand running down the length of my arm, stopping to grope my left breast.  His hand massaged over the thin layer of my tank top before finding its way under the fabric.  His scotch-laden breath wafted over my face sending a chilled tingling sensation down my spine.

“Please don’t,” I whimpered through the lump in my throat, silently praying one of these men would come to their senses and help me.  Deep down I knew that wasn’t going to happen.  They were drunk and horny.  My panicked state won’t sway them from the task at hand.

Another hand had begun to ascend my right leg, moving its way slowly up my shin to my thigh.  My skin was crawling from the feel of the rough, callused, unwanted touch on my soft skin.

“She’s smooth as silk, Arthur.  Run your hand up her other leg,” said the East Coaster.  Arthur’s hand didn’t even start on my lower leg; instead he immediately found the bare skin of my thigh.  He rubbed his hand up my inner thigh, stopping at the hem of my shorts, and then descended just above my knee, gripping it tightly as if he were trying to reign in his control.

“You weren’t kidding, Christian,” replied the man with what I could now tell was an Aussie accent.  My attackers were saying one another’s names, letting me know who is touching me.  The only one I still didn’t know yet was the southerner’s name.

“Armen, please let me go,” I begged once more.

“Sh, Lezleigh,” Once again, Armen’s voice was by my ear, his nose runs down the curve of my neck then back up, the smell of the alcohol he had been drinking filled the miniscule space between us.  My eyes were screwed shut as hopelessness filled my mind.  I didn’t know what else I could do.  There was nothing more I could say that would stop this nightmare from happening, so I mentally shut down.

“That’s a good girl,” Armen praised me; mistaking my attempt to disconnect as a sign of compliance.  His hand found its way under my tank, groping at the breast the southerner had been ignoring.

“I want inside this sweetness, Armen,” chimed the man with the southern drawl.

“You will get your turn, Henry,” Armen snapped in a heated tone.  “I get my dick wet before any of you fuckers, do you understand?  If you have a problem with that, then get the fuck out of my house.”

My body shook from the uncontrollable crying and before I could catch my breath four sets of hands ripped away the only barrier I had, shredding the fabric like it were a simple piece of paper.

“Fuck me, she’s perfection,” Christian grumbled through his blatant aroused state.  I could feel his erection through his slacks rubbing against my thigh.

It took everything I had to keep my eyes shut, which heightened my sense of sound.  I heard the leather of a belt being unbuckled and the sounds of a zipper being dragged down, immediately followed by the swish of pants dropping to the floor.  The dip of the bed between my legs made me well aware that Armen was positioning himself to take me.

This was the moment I realized I had one last chance to fight.  Fear overwhelmed my entire being; I began to writhe frantically against the ties that bound me, thrashing wildly against the bed in the desperation that one of my flailing limbs would connect with one of these monsters, but as quickly as I began to fight, the tighter the restraints got, exhausting me, draining what little strength I had left.

“Please, stop Armen.  I won’t say anything.  I swear it,” I plead one last time.

After a few seconds in what I believed was the darkest pit of hell, I finally felt my body shut down.  I welcomed the darkness that had been threatening to overcome me.  I was aware of everything, yet nothing at the same time.  How was that even possible?

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Author Bio

10410722_1379444155694150_4583055113616095962_n

T. R. Cupak was born and raised in the California Bay Area. She now lives in a quiet town south of where she grew up with her husband and their shih tzu Harley. She is obsessed with cars, especially fast ones, and enjoys her music louder than anyone should. When she’s not at work or busy writing, you can find her curled up, reading and enjoying a fabulous glass of wine or a Dirty Shirley.

Despite her lifelong love of literature, Cupak lost touch with her creative side in her early twenties. Her passion for reading was rekindled six years ago, however, and in 2013 she started journaling. This practice helped Cupak hone her creative aspirations, and soon she saw her characters come to life. She has rediscovered her passion for storytelling and wants to share her words with everyone who wants to read them.

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Cover Reveal: Jordan’s Shadow by T.R. Cupak

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Jordan'sShadow-eBook_final

Jordan’s Shadow by T.R. Cupak

Dark Erotic Romance

Release Date: TBA

Cover Model: Drew Leighty

Photographer: Travis Lane

Blurb

Jordan’s life started out privileged. Aside from being the daughter of a not so affectionate family, she never wanted for anything. She was fortunate enough to learn love and affection from her nanny, Adeline, who for the most part was the mother figure in her life since her own mother’s sole purpose in life was to please her husband and no one else.

Tragedy struck when her father had a sudden heart attack, changing Jordan’s life forever. Who knew one person’s death would set off a chain of unfortunate events leading Jordan down a dark desolate path?

The once privileged girl who should be attending debutant balls, dating the son of one of the most prestigious family’s in their community is now a Runaway. All because of one fateful night, at the ripe age of seventeen, that turned her into a drug addict who sells her body in order to survive. All she has to look forward to is The Shadow. A man she’s never laid eyes upon since she’s always blindfolded when he orders her services.

The Shadow, a man with a plan who finds comfort in revenge and a strong desire to show Jordan that she too can exact revenge, but will she seek the type of revenge he offers. Will it be too late for her to turn her life around? Will she trust the only man she doesn’t fear once she learns his truth?

Add to Goodreads TBR

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Author Bio

10410722_1379444155694150_4583055113616095962_n

T. R. Cupak was born and raised in the California Bay Area. She now lives in a quiet town south of where she grew up with her husband and their shih tzu Harley. She is obsessed with cars, especially fast ones, and enjoys her music louder than anyone should. When she’s not at work or busy writing, you can find her curled up, reading and enjoying a fabulous glass of wine or a Dirty Shirley.

Despite her lifelong love of literature, Cupak lost touch with her creative side in her early twenties. Her passion for reading was rekindled six years ago, however, and in 2013 she started journaling. This practice helped Cupak hone her creative aspirations, and soon she saw her characters come to life. She has rediscovered her passion for storytelling and wants to share her words with everyone who wants to read them.

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Cover Reveal: Lie With Me by M.Never

Title: Lie With Me
Series: Decadence After Dark #4
Author: M. Never
Genre: Dark Erotic Romance
Cover Design: Cover Me Darling
Photographer: Sarah Eirew
 Release Date: November 27, 2015

 

Blurb
Tell me a secret…CJ Carmichael hasn’t been able to get the vivacious blonde he spent four delirious days with off his mind. The blonde who was completely off-limits, but he couldn’t deny.Tell me a secret….

CJ had no intention of pursuing her, but Tara Stevens knew what she wanted and it was him. Now six months later, their time together still haunts him. As much as he’s tried to talk himself out of seeing her again, the craving is just too powerful.

Tell me a secret…

Tara is more than willing to spend an entire fantasy weekend with CJ. More than willing to hand herself over to him completely and fulfill his every desire. More than willing to pretend he owns her despite their age difference and Kayne’s disapproval.

Tell me a secret…

Sometimes fantasy becomes a reality. Sometimes people fall in love before they even know it- before they even know each other- and after it’s too late.

Tell me a secret…

Sometimes, beneath the sweetest secrets are the most deceptive lies.

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AMAZON US / UK / AU / CA

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Author Bio
M. Never resides in New York City. When she’s not researching ways to tie up her characters in compromising positions, you can usually find her at the gym kicking the crap out of a punching bag, or eating at some new trendy restaurant.

She has a dependence on sushi and a fetish for boots. Fall is her favorite season.

She is surrounded by family and friends she wouldn’t trade for the world and is a little in love with her readers. The more the merrier. So make sure to say hi!
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Blog Tour: Surviving Him by Dawn A Keane

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Book: Surviving Him
Series: Shameless Series #1
Author: Dawn A Keane
Genre: Dark Contemporary Romance
Cover Designed By: RE&D Margreet Asselbergs
Hosted By: Francessca’s Romance Reviews

Synopsis

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Dark erotic romance contains subject matter some might find distressing, also violence and sexual scenes. Not suitable for readers under the age of 18.
An explosive love story of a mother and her struggle to be with the love of her life against all odds. Logan is strong, sexy, and the type of father that Dana’s daughters deserve in their lives. Dana’s life is rocked by tragedy, she is forced into running from her psychotic ex-husband, Ian, and it seems he’s determined to keep them apart.
Left with nowhere else to turn Dana and her girls seek shelter in a women’s refuge in Manchester, where Dana finds lifelong friendships in the other women who live there. Sisters brought together by despair that haunts them every single day, but the laughter they bring keeps out the darkness that is Dana’s past, she hopes she can find herself again. But a life away from Logan and his ability to ignite the flame deep inside her is almost unbearable.
Dana’s not the only one, Logan will fight anyone and anything to be back in Dana’s arms again. Can they carve out an existence for their fiery passion amid Ian’s rage?

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Prologue

The Women’s Aid worker, Pam, seems like a kind lady with short, blonde hair, and concerned grey eyes as she sits opposite me behind her desk with a sympathetic look on her face. A pen and a notebook are situated in front of her and she is listening to my every word, while I tell her of the abuse I suffered at the hands of my ex-husband. All because of a bloody tap.

I turned the tap on as slowly as I could to fill up the kettle, and the water pipe made a loud screeching sound, a rumbling that shook through the whole house. It did that every time the tap was turned on. Ian was in bed and it woke him up. He was so angry with me, he jumped out of the bed, ran down the stairs towards me and started having a complete meltdown, going completely ballistic at me for waking him up. I shook with fear his as his eyes blazed with anger; a murderous violence poured from him as he glared down at me. He started shouting at me for turning the tap on the wrong way. He said that I was a stupid fool for not knowing how do it properly. I didn’t realize there was a right way to do it. I was so frightened because I knew what was coming next.

Ian lost it completely and flew at me so fast my head spun. He was shouting and swearing; he was beyond being in control of his temper. I was scared out of my mind. I trembled as my throat closed. I proceeded to beg him not to hurt me. I pleaded with him, but it didn’t do any good. He flew at me again and punched me so hard in the face that I fell on my knees on the floor. Ian didn’t want to hear anything I had to say. He got right in my face with his forehead firmly pressed up against mine, pushing me down and shaking me with the force. “You’re pathetic. You don’t even know how to do a simple thing. Not knowing how to turn on a tap quietly, you stupid bitch.” He punched me again and again. “Next time, yeah,” he shouted, “Do it fucking right.” He punched me on the right side of my jaw. I could no longer hold myself up.

I slowly agreed that I was pathetic for not knowing how to turn the damn tap on correctly, then my head smashed on the floor full force.

I could feel the blow to my eyes as he repeatedly hit me over and over and again. Black spots filled my vision then everything turned black. When I came to, I couldn’t believe what was happening to me, and Kayleigh. Was she ever going to be safe? What sort of mum am I to let this happen? How can I stop it? I believed that I must have deserved everything I went through. I must have one of those faces men want to injure. Ian left me alone and went to his sister’s house to calm down. I went to the bathroom and splashed my face with cold water, and it hurt so much I winced; the pain was excruciating. The water slowly soothed my face, stinging slightly with each splash. I couldn’t see very well as my eyelids had swelled and were changing colour, my tears stinging the open wounds. My head was in so much pain, I put my face back into the water in the sink to soothe it.

I looked up into the mirror; I was a complete mess. No amount of make-up was going to cover it up; it felt like my heart would pop through my chest, it was racing so hard.

All I wanted to do was go and see my mum and tell her what happened, ask her for help. But I knew she would be disappointed in me. I couldn’t call her and tell her, she would think I’m such a failure. I stared at my broken reflection in the mirror trying to figure out what I had done to deserve this and I couldn’t. I was so shocked, so scared out of my mind. Ian was back in no time at all with a box of chocolates, like that made it all ok again. He said he was a psychotic human being. He kept saying how sorry he was, so sorry for what he had done, so sorry for losing control and that he couldn’t believe he had hurt his woman. He promised me it would never happen again, but the damage was already done.

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About The Author

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Hi all I am just your normal average everyday mum nothing exciting, I was brought up in Manchester, and I am now living in the beautiful Scottish Borders with my three children.
I have enjoyed writing my story as I had a pretty hard upbringing and have suffered like everyone does over the years in different situations, but everyone has a story to tell.
I just hope my story can help someone out there who is or has been through the same sorts of situations to myself.

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Cover Reveal: From Dust by Freya Barker

Book: From Dust (A Standalone Novel)
Author: Freya Barker
Genre: Dark / Suspense Romance
Release date: August 2015
Cover Design: RE&D, Margreet Asselbergs
Hosted by:Francessca’s Romance Reviews

Synopsis

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Pain punished her.

The bottle numbed her.

Guilt kept her trapped.

In the dark alley of a pub, the words “Please don’t” take hold of her heart and break the silence she seeks. Thinking herself beyond redemption, she tentatively grabs on to the slim thread of hope that unfolds inside of her.

Holding her secrets close, she can’t resist the comforting draw coming from The Skipper. The unconditional friendships it offers, the protective roof it provides, and the spark that its owner ignites in her—melting the frost off her heart, and slowly stripping away her resistance.

His life flows from one crisis to the next. Under the pressure of competition crowding him out of his family’s pub and the need to protect his children from the ruins of a bad marriage, he barely breathes. That is until a mane of strawberry-blonde hair and a set of big, pale blue eyes, shake him up.

He never expected the shadow of a woman he finds on the floor of his washroom to bring him the air―the balance and the light he’s been missing.

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Excerpt

“I have more than I’d learned to be satisfied with for a long time. A bed, a shower every day, warm water—it’s more than enough. More than I deserve…” Her last words are so faint, I almost miss them. The meaning behind them seems clear. She feels a great amount of guilt over something. I haven’t missed the occasional flashes of blatant pain I see in her eyes, nor have I missed the wistful glances she sends in the kid’s direction. That coupled with her initial reaction when she met Dex first has me thinking she’s left something very precious behind.
For a moment she seems so forlorn, I react instinctively and pull her up from her seat and into my arms where she stiffens at the contact.
“Hush. It’s just a hug,” I whisper into her hair that barely touches my chin. Damn, she smells good, and with the angles softening on her body, she feels fucking fantastic in my arms. I feel her relax a little and tentatively her arms slip around my waist and her cheek presses against my chest. “When you need to unburden some of what you’ve been carrying around, I’m right here.” Without thinking I press a kiss on her head.

About the Author

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Freya Barker craved reading about ‘real’ people, those who are perhaps less than perfect, but just as deserving of romance, hot monkey sex and some thrills and chills in their lives – So she decided to write about them. Always creative, from an early age on she danced and sang, doodled, created, cooked, baked, quilted and crafted. Her latest creative outlets were influenced by an ever-present love for reading. First through blogging, then cover art and design, and finally writing. Born and raised in the Netherlands, she packed her two toddlers, and eight suitcases filled with toys to move to Canada. No stranger to new beginnings, she thrives on them. With the kids grown and out in the world, Freya is at the ‘prime’ of her life. The body might be a bit ramshackle, but the spirit is high and as adventurous as ever. Something you may see reflected here and there in some of her heroines…. none of who will likely be wilting flowers.

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Other Books by this Author

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All Cedar Tree novels available with KINDLE UNLIMITED!

”CLEAN LINES” (Cedar Tree #4)
Universal Purchase Links

”AGAINST ME” (Cedar Tree #3)
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“HUNDRED TO ONE” (Cedar Tree #2)
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“SLIM TO NONE” (Cedar Tree #1)
Universal Purchase Links

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