A.J. Downey, NaNoWriMo author, hails from Seattle, Washington with her fiancé and cat. A fun loving, strong willed woman with a talent for writing characters that you can relate to and enjoy reading about. This post is about her fourth book.
Learn about NaNoWriMo.
Click the names of the books to go to the links of Book 1 through 3.5 of the Sacred Hearts Series.
One catastrophic night, Shelly Jordan’s world was ripped to shreds. Now, living in an isolation of her own making, she’s slipping away from everything and everyone she once loved. She can’t piece the remnants of who she was back together with who she is now. Shelly can barely get through the next hour, let alone the whole day, and no one blames her for it. She tells the world she’s fine, afraid to lose the only family she has. After all, there’s no place in an MC for a used up club whore who can’t bear to be touched.
Ghost has had a thing for Shelly since first laying eyes on her. Still, Ghosty-boy don’t share, and as a club slut, Shelly gives it up to whoever asks. If only she’d knock off her slut-tastic ways… But now she’s hurt and he’s torn in two. If he’d been less of a jackass, she wouldn’t have run from the safety of the fireside – his side – that night. Ghost feels responsible for the horrible things he said that drove her into the predator’s hands. Now he wants to man up and make it right. Can Ghost stitch Shelly back together again when all he’s ever really been good at is ripping things apart?
I sat up with a strangled cry, chest heaving like it had that night. I flung the covers off my legs and planted my feet firmly in the carpet beside my bed.
“Floor Shelly,” I told myself, “Floor not pine needles, not ferns… Just a dream Baby. Just a dream,” I gasped out in a half mutter half whisper, repeating the words my cousin and his wife used every time I woke screaming. But I hadn’t screamed this time. I had woken up before the screaming had begun. Not that anyone had heard my screams. Sparks had kept his hand over my nose and mouth until I had passed out from lack of air.
I scrubbed my face with my hands which was slick with a mixture of tears and sweat and grimaced. I was hot, too hot and as a result thirsty. It was about this time I realized that I could hear the TV, faint from downstairs. I sighed unhappily. Reaver and Hayden had come home after all. I stood up, still a bit shaky and tugged my robe around me, belting it. I opened my bedroom door and peeked over the railing. I couldn’t see Reave, must be at the other end of the living room nearer the fireplace. With a sigh I descended the stairs and paused midway down when I realized the man on the end of the couch wasn’t my cousin at all.
“Hey,” Ghost said quietly. He sat with his sock covered feet up on the ottoman, a beer in his hand, perched on his thigh. Men’s voices came from the television, talking. I blinked.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
He gave me a half smile, “You weren’t at the club.”
“I didn’t feel like it,” I shrugged.
“Get thirsty?” he asked. I nodded. “Go get your glass of water, Princess,” he said gently and I found myself wondering vaguely how bad I must have looked. I nodded and went into the kitchen and got some water from the tap. I returned to the entryway.
“Better?” he asked. I nodded, unsure what to say. He smiled.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I said and he smiled a bit broader.
“Pretty sure I did.” He looked me over considering, “Want to keep me company?” he asked and before I could answer I felt my head nodding. I did, I really did. He patted the couch cushion next to him.
“What are you doing here?” I repeated dropping onto the couch a healthy enough distance away to make me comfortable but close enough I wouldn’t be considered rude.
“I told you, you weren’t at the club,” he said and took a drink off his beer.
“I don’t understand…” and I didn’t, at least I think I didn’t. Maybe I just wanted to hear it.
“I had my heart set on spending the evening with my new friend,” I closed my eyes, his voice was rich and melodic, pitched a little lower than he usually spoke, his tone soothing.
“I was tired,” I said lamely and opened my eyes. His hazel eyes flicked over my face, the brown centers radiating out to a rich green the color of new spring leaves.
“Yeah?” he murmured. I nodded. “Still tired?” he asked. Yes, but I shook my head no. He gave me that one sided tilt of his lips, that half smile I found so endearing and once upon a time, incredibly sexy. Who was I kidding? It was still incredibly sexy, which made me feel incredibly sad. There was no way he’d want me now if he never wanted me before.
“What are you watching?” I asked, if only to turn my mind away from how incredibly intimate the living room space had become. I was pretty sure it was just he and I in the townhouse, and the living room was cast in an intimate pool of light from the single lamp I’d left on in case Reave and Hayden decided to come home.
“Top Gear. You guys have on demand, figured I would catch up while you were sleeping,” he reached out a fingertip and I froze, my heart hammering in my chest. He stilled when I tensed.
“It’s okay,” he soothed and I held very, very still as he brushed some of my too long hair out of my eyes, across my forehead. He sighed, a heavy thing weighted with wistfulness and sorrow. God I must look pitiful. I sank back into the couch and stared fixedly at the television.
Wow……Sh*t just got real!,March 26, 2015