“Dark and delicious.”—KERRELYN SPARKS, New York Times bestselling author, for Race the Darkness
Seeing is believing…
Thomas Brown can’t see color, but he can see people’s true souls. His abilities allow him to work with criminal investigators and deliver justice to families of the wronged. And he’s starting to accept that his life will forever be in black and white…
Then he encounters Helena Grayse, and everything changes. She brings vibrant color to his world, and he brings acceptance and belief to hers. But Helena’s past is quickly catching up with her, and Thomas is in the crosshairs.
As an enemy hidden in plain sight threatens their every move, they’ll have to rely on their love to beat the darkness.
What People Are Saying About Abbie Roads:
“A dark and intense romance that pulls no punches and offers plenty of mind-bending twists.”—RT Book Reviews for Hunt the Dawn, 4 Stars
“A haunting story about love, redemption, overcoming the past, and acceptance.”—Harlequin Junkie for Saving Mercy
“Roads blends high-action romantic suspense with the paranormal to tell a love story.” —Booklist for Race the Darkness
Indie Bound: http://bit.ly/2Ard4rT
Release day: November 6, 2018
She’d loved Rory the way any naive girl could love a boy. Their relationship had been a sweet exploration for both of them. It hadn’t been complicated or difficult. It had been nice and easy and, for her, different. He had been her first in so many ways. Her first boyfriend. Her first lover. Her first heartbreak.
“Oh, Rory.” She whispered the words—not quite ready to let the world have the full volume of her voice. “Everything was so normal one moment, then the next you were dead and everyone blamed me.” The situation had been horrible all around, but one thing had made it even worse for her—knowing that someone had killed Rory and gotten away with it. She wanted to promise him that she’d find his real killer. But she didn’t make promises she couldn’t keep.
No tears came for Rory. Just as she’d had none for her grandparents when she’d visited their graves, minutes ago. The only thing she felt was regret that so many people’s lives had been shattered. Rory’s. His mother’s. Her grandparents’.
She tore her gaze away from the gravestone and the pain it represented.
A man stood no more than fifty feet from her. Tall and… Strong came to mind. It was more than the width of his shoulders; it was something about the set of them, as if he carried a heavy burden. His hair was so dark it rivaled the majesty of the night sky. But it was his eyes that enthralled her.
From that distance, she couldn’t see their color, but she could see kindness in them. Maybe it was the way they tilted down at the outer edges to lend a strange understanding to his expression. But then his lips moved, sliding upward, into a look of undiluted male satisfaction.
Her heart warmed under his appraisal, and the weirdest sensation came over her. It took a moment for her mind to match a word to the feeling—pleasure. She basked in the glory of his attention. Everything inside her wanted to go to him. Meet him. Talk to him. But the thought of speaking, of sharing that piece of herself that she’d kept hidden away for so many years… The mere thought terrified her. Her voice had been the only part of the past ten years that she’d retained control over.
All the warmth she got from being the center of his focus turned to ice. She wasn’t fit for public consumption. Fairson Reformatory for Women had fractured her as neatly as a broken bone. Now she needed time to heal. Oh, and that wasn’t even taking into consideration her status as a felon. As much as she wished it wasn’t true, people would judge her for the rest of her life on that murder conviction.
She couldn’t bear to look at him any longer, couldn’t bear to see him looking at her. Without any hesitation, she turned and walked away. Her legs felt gangly and awkward, as if they didn’t want to obey her bidding, but she forced her feet to keep moving.
Don’t look back. Don’t look at him. Don’t you dare.
She clenched her fists so tight they shook. A deep, throbbing ache formed in her palm where the Sister’s blade had sliced her. Exactly what she needed. She thrust her fingers wide open, stretching the injury, allowing the burning pain to vanquish all thoughts of the man.
One step and then another, she walked through the wrought-iron cemetery gates and headed out of town toward her next destination. The cold didn’t bother her. She’d planned to be outside all day and had made sure to purchase thick, warm clothing.
She followed the strip of road as it wound its way through the naked woods and low hills. Salt crunched beneath her insulated boots, the sound rhythmic and soothing. Occasionally a car passed, but for the most part she was alone. Alone was nice. Alone meant she was safe. Safe from the Sisters for the first time in ten years.
Some women spent years planning for their wedding. She’d spent the past decade planning for this day. The day she walked out of prison.
She used to fantasize about Grandma making all her favorite foods. The joy of sleeping in her own bed. But Grandma and Grandpa had died in a car accident on their way to visit her three years ago. And then she’d had to sell the house…
It’d taken a while, but she’d formulated a new idea. Visit the graves of everyone she’d lost, visit the Bear, then find a place to stay. She’d give herself one night—maybe two—to say a final goodbye to the life she used to lead and then move on. Move away from this place that represented so much pain.