So I got a email from AToMR tours and guess what they have yet another GREAT book that has just been released! We are lucky enough to have received a Excerpt the book and let me just be the first one to say I think I love it! I am going to be going over to Amazon.com and get my copy so I can read it in full!
Two years ago, Lorrie’s mother was murdered. But that wasn’t the end of it.
Reeling from the tragedy, Lorrie’s father spiraled into alcohol, depression, and
finally suicide.
The two most important people in Lorrie’s life are both gone but she’s still alive.
Trying to recover from the tragedy, Lorrie returns to campus, ready to pick up the
pieces of her life. All Lorrie wants is to get back to “normal.”
Then she meets Hunter. The man, the legend, “The Hammer.”
Hunter is a cage fighter who takes on every fight like he’s got nothing to lose.
His life is a tangled mess of girls, booze, and fist fights. And while it may seem
like he’s got a devil-may-care attitude, he’s fighting a private cage-match with a
monster he can’t defeat.
Lorrie knows that Hunter is exactly the type of guy she should stay away from,
especially in her fragile state, but Hunter has other ideas.
As Hunter and Lorrie grow closer together, will they be able to overcome their
pain and heal each other? Or will they both end up wrecked?
GENRE: Mature New Adult Romance (18+)
LENGTH: Novel, 350 pgs
RESCUED (WRECKED BOOK TWO: Coming Early 2014)
Here is one of the two excepts i received hope you enjoy as much as I do!
I was okay. Just okay.
Not good, not bad—just okay. After what happened to Mom, I answered a lot of
questions with that line.
“Lorrie, how are you
coping?” they would ask.
“I’m okay.”
Or: “I’m so sorry
Lorrie, this shouldn’t have happened to a woman like your mother. How are you
dealing with things?”
“I’m okay.”
Before the trial, during
the trial and after the trial, I gave that same answer. What the hell did they
expect me to say? Sitting on the edge of a
low stone bridge spanning a narrow part of Lake Teewee, I looked out across the
dark waters, idly gazing at the old, towering trees along the distant shore as
if they somehow knew the answers I was seeking.
I dangled my legs over
the side, my snow boots almost touching the high water. The bridge spanned over
a narrow part of the half-frozen lake that eventually turned into a stream
winding through and around the west side of campus. Some of the students liked
to call the lake “Lake Peepee.” I thought it was a stupid name at first but
then someone explained that there were frequent rumors of frat boys pissing in
the lake. Whether it was true or not, the water in the lake was still covered
in a disgusting layer of green algae.
I had finished unpacking
and setting up my dorm room last night, and decided to take a walk this morning
to refamiliarize myself with the campus layout. It would be nearly a week
before classes officially started so there weren’t too many students roaming
the campus yet which made the place rather quiet.
I exhaled deeply and my
breath fogged in front of me. After taking three
semesters off, I was back on campus again at Arrowhart College, ready to start
the Spring semester in the middle of the coldest winter ever experienced in
Studsen, Illinois. The crappy weather made the timing of my move from my aunt’s
house in Indiana back to Illinois unfortunate, but I didn’t want to delay
coming back to school.
Aunt Caroline had suggested I take another semester off, but that was
the last thing I wanted. I wanted to feel normal again. I needed to go beyond
the denial, the anger, and the depression. The therapist had told me I was one
step away from reaching the last stage of grief, which was “acceptance”, then I
could move on with my life. She’d said this last step was the hardest for most
people. For some it takes months, others years, and the rest . . . well, they
never make it. I didn’t know which category I’d fit into; all I knew was being
away from school didn’t help me cope. If anything, it just gave me more time to
dwell on the past.
A high-pitched squeal to
my left made me jump. Frantically reaching for a grippable stone on the bridge,
I managed to find one and regain my balance, saving myself from falling into
the water. I turned toward the noise and caught a glimpse of a black cat
disappearing into the thick brush with a mouse in its mouth. It was probably a
stray trying to collect enough food to last the remaining winter.
I wrung my hand like a
disgruntled old woman warning kids to get off her lawn. “Hey buddy! You almost
made me fall into the lake.” The cat had almost lived up to its reputation for
being unlucky. The cat poked its head
out of a bush for a moment, looked at me curiously with its green eyes, lost
interest then vanished again.
“That’s right. Get out
of here kitty,” I said, a bit disappointed that he left. No one else was around
and I could’ve used the company.
The cat was like most of
the friends I’d made freshman year at Arrowhart; we had a momentary connection
but then we quickly went our separate ways and lost contact. I’d only kept in
touch with Daniela Stauffer, who was now going to be one of my suitemates this
semester. Maybe I’d make new friends this semester. Thinking about that, I
frowned when I imagined students’ reactions to me telling them that I was a
twenty-year-old sophomore. I could almost hear the questions. Did she get
academic probation? Could she not afford to pay for school? I had good reasons for
being a first semester sophomore when I should’ve been a second semester
junior, but I’d prefer they didn’t know.
Unfortunately, most
probably did know—through the media covering the trial and through
campus rumors. Word tended to spread fast on a college campus with only a few
thousand students.
I sighed heavily then
inhaled through my mouth. The crisp winter air entering my lungs felt
refreshing. The thick puffer jacket I wore kept my chest warm, but the cold
stone beneath me sucked the heat from my bottom through my jeans, leaving my
ass slightly numb.
My ass matched my feelings. I was numb when I should’ve been excited.
Wasn’t it supposed to feel good returning to college? To go to fun parties and
meet hot guys? To be moving on with my life
again? Wasn’t that what Mom and Dad would have wanted?
Reaching into the inner
pocket of my jacket, I pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper. I unfolded
it and stared at the black letters shakily written in cursive by Dad. My chest
grew tight and my fingers trembled but there were no tears in my eyes as I read
the letter again, for the thousandth time.
Dear Lorrie,
Whatever happens after
this, I want you to know that I love you and that this had nothing to do with
you. Even after the divorce, I still loved your mother. I guess you always knew
that. I can only blame myself for what happened to her. Maybe if I hadn’t
worked so much, had paid more attention to her, we would’ve never gotten
divorced, and she would’ve never met that monster. I’m so sorry Lorrie. I’m
sorry to you, and I’m sorry to your mother. She was so beautiful. She was the
best thing in my world, and even after the divorce, I was happy to just be a
part of your lives.
I know that you need me
now, more than ever, but I can’t. I just can’t Lorrie. I’m too weak. It hurts
so much that she’s no longer here. You’re the strong one Lorrie, you’ve always
been strong. Ever since you were born, you were always so strong. You have to
keep going, don’t make the same mistakes I made.
I’m sorry Lorrie.
Goodbye.
Love,
Dad
I should cry now, I thought. That’s
what normal people did right? In the movies, whenever someone read their
father’s suicide note they cried
afterwards. I’d cried the first hundred times I read it but now I couldn’t cry.
I couldn’t feel anything. Not even when I wanted to. It was like there was a
switch in my brain that was connected but nothing was transmitting. No sadness,
no pain, no joy. Just numbness. Was that what dad meant when he said I was
strong? That I could numb away the pain and move on?
I dipped the toe of my
boot into the water and nudged a thick ice piece floating by.
Dad took his own life a
few months ago, after the trial was over. It was a hell of a thing to do to
your loved ones. It was a hell of a thing to do to his sister, Caroline. And to
me, after I spent most of my time living with him after the divorce. Didn’t he
know how much we cared about him? Didn’t he know how broken we’d be when he
committed suicide? I folded up the note and
put it back into my pocket. When I patted my jacket for my phone to check the
time, I remembered I’d left it back in my room. I should probably head back.
A soft gurgling drew my
attention to the water beneath the bridge and I looked down. I almost didn’t
see it at first, but then I spotted it. There was a large goldfish making slow
circles under the water.
“Hey fishy. What are you
doing? Aren’t you freezing in there?”
The fish glugged a few
bubbles to the surface and I took it as a yes. It was slow but looked alive in
the bitter coldness of the water. I envied that feeling of being alive. My ass
was numb and I was numb on the inside. I wanted to feel something. Anything.
Just to know that I was still here. I tucked my legs beneath
me and leaned over the side of the bridge, dipping my fingers into the water. A
frigid chill spiked up my arm invigorating me.
I could still feel
something.
I leaned further over
the side of the bridge so that I could reach deeper into the water. My wiggling
fingers must’ve looked like dinner because the fish approached and started
nibbling at me. The icy bite of the water made me alert and awake, clearing the
numb fuzz that I thought had settled permanently on my mind. I pushed up the
sleeve of my jacket with my other hand, before leaning further, to plunge my
arm deeper. The edge of my sleeve was getting wet but I didn’t care. The cold
had a cleansing quality, even as the tips of my fingers were starting to lose
their feeling.
I thought about leaning further, but it was already the furthest I could
go without losing my balance. If I fell in the freezing water, I might
die—there was certainly no one around to help me. I might have been numb but I
wasn’t stupid.
Something felt odd
around my shoe.
I twisted my head and
saw a black, furry creature tearing viciously at my shoelaces.
“Hey!” I yelled.
The cat screeched and
jumped three feet in the air, scaring the shit out of me. I wanted to pull my
hand out of the water, but it was too late. I flailed for a split second,
trying to grab onto the stone I’d used earlier to save myself, but this time I missed.
I tipped forward, losing
all balance.
Then I was underwater.
Surrender To You pulled me in like no other book I have read! Ellie's heartbreak and Stefan trying to win back her heart just pulled me in and made me feel like I was experiencing it first hand. I could feel Ellie's pain and heartache then turn around and feel her love for Stefan even when she was trying her best to fight the overwhelming pull of attraction she had when ever they were close.
