Series: Fatal Truth Series
Author: Abbie Roads
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Out of darkness and danger…
You can't hide your secrets from Lathan Montgomery-he can read your darkest memories. And while his special abilities are invaluable in the FBI's hunt for a serial killer, he has no way to avoid the pain that brings him. Until he is drawn to courageous, down-on-her-luck Evanee Brown and finds himself able to offer her something he's never offered another human being: himself.
Dawns a unique and powerful love
Nightmares are nothing new to Evanee Brown. But once she meets Lathan, they plummet into the realm of the macabre. Murder victims are reaching from beyond the grave to give Evanee evidence that could help Lathan bring a terrifying killer to justice. Together, they could forge an indomitable partnership to thwart violence, abuse, and death-if they survive the forces that seek to tear them apart.
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Excerpt
Lathan
laid Honey in his bed. Her body was dead weight and awkward, so he adjusted her
arms, her legs, her head as if she were a life-sized ragdoll, until she looked
comfortable.
He
tore off his gloves, pressed his fingers to her neck, and concentrated on
finding her pulse. The steady pressure of her heartbeat tapped against his
fingertips in a Morse code rhythm all its own. He laid his other hand on her
chest, just below her clavicles, to ensure the rise and fall of her breathing.
He tried not to notice how close his hand was to her breasts. Failed.
The
side of his hand rested next to the gentle slope of her breast. If he fanned
out his pinkie finger—no. He pulled his hand away.
She must’ve just passed
out.
He went into the
bathroom, soaped up half the stack of clean washcloths and washed the lingering
scent of decay from her hand.
Her skin was rough and
red, her fingers knobby and strong, her nails ragged and short. She had the
body and clothing of a stripper, but he expected something more faux sexy than
torn up fingernails and blistered feet. What kind of job abused her hands and
her feet? Nothing seemed to fit.
He had questions and not
one answer. What was her name? Why didn’t he get SMs from her? Why was he able
to touch her? Where the fuck did she get a human eyeball?
He stared at her face as
if the answers were written in the delicate arch of her brows, or in the gentle
curve of her lashes. Or in the small sickle shaped scar at the corner of her
mouth that curved upwards giving her the curious appearance of smiling out of
one side of her mouth, while the other side frowned.
Her eyelids fluttered.
Opened.
“How are you feeling?”
That question was more appropriate than interrogating her on how she came into
possession of a human eyeball. He’d wait until she was fully conscious before
tripping down that trail.
“Cold. So cold.” Goose
bumps pimpled over her bare skin. She scooted toward where he sat on the edge
of the bed, wrapping herself around his hips, seeking his body’s warmth.
He should get
the heavy sleeping bag from the closet. He should cover
her with it and leave the room. He should, he should, he should. He didn’t. He
pulled off his boots, eased into the bed—she latched onto him before he fully
reclined.
She molded herself to
him. His shoulder her pillow, her arm around his middle, one of her legs draped
over his thighs, her knee just a few miniscule inches from his groin.
Everything vanished, except the vivid sensation of her feminine curves
burrowing into him, seeking his safety, his comfort, his warmth. She was cool
where he was on fire. She was soft where he couldn’t bend. She was sweet where
he felt bitter.
She fit
into his arms, against his body, and into his soul, like she was designed
especially for him. He wanted to believe he could have a happy ending with her,
but his reality was a cruel hard place where good things just didn’t happen. Or
if they did, they never lasted.
Seven Things About Abbie Roads
- She loves Snicker Parfaits. Gotta start with what’s most important, right?
- She writes dark emotional books featuring damaged characters, but always gives her hero and heroine a happy ending… after torturing them for three hundred pages.
- By day she’s a mental health counselor known for her blunt, honest style of therapy. At night she burns up the keyboard. Well… Burn might be too strong a word. She at least sits with her hands poised over the keyboard, waiting for inspiration to strike. And when it does—the keyboard might get a little warm.
- She can’t stand it when people drive slowly in the passing lane. Just saying. That’s major annoying. Right?
- She loves taking pictures of things she thinks are pretty.
- She’s represented by Michelle Grajkowski of 3 Seas Literary.
- Her first book RACE THE DARKNESS was a Publishers Weekly Top 10 Pick for Fall.
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