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Maybe Yes
**FREE on March 24 & 25 only!** -- EXCERPT: I just don’t know what I want. I think of everything I’ve been told I want—money, clothes, a modeling career, an acting career, and an intelligent husband who will run the company in order to give me even more money. But not one of those things has ever made me happy. I try to think about things that have made me happy—my family and Scarlett. But that leaves me with fewer answers. I know what I don’t want. I don’t want a modeling career. I don’t want an acting career. I don’t want to marry a complete stranger. I try to think of my happiest memory with my dad. It was on my eighteenth birthday. It coincided with my high school graduation. He took me to a casino in California, one I could legally gamble at. He taught me how to play blackjack and how to count cards. We won—a lot. It wasn’t the winning that made it fun. It was learning something from my father. It was the confidence he displayed in me when he gave me high amounts of money to place a bet that I would win because I was capable. It was one of the only times I felt he was proud of me for something other than my looks. The line I will never forget my father saying to me is, “No one would ever suspect you of counting cards. You’re too pretty.” It was that day that I learned that my beauty was a weapon that could be used to my advantage. I just have never learned how to harness it. I head to my room to grab my shoes and purse to head to a casino, to find a happy memory…because, tomorrow, I’ll meet the man I’m going to marry. Tomorrow, I’ll have to face the fact that I don’t get to decide my own future, but I don’t have to today. I still have a chance to make today better. I was wrong. Today isn’t the worst day of my life. Tomorrow probably will be, so I’m going to make the most of my last night of freedom. 
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Dodging Trains
EXCERPT: I’ve been on a one-track rail to landing Paislee in my bed since she got off the plane. Not that it’s been planned, but I convinced her that Pizza Pazza in Tampa is better than Mamma Lucia’s in Calceth. I told her about Simon during dinner, one thing led to another, and here I am unlocking the door to my duplex and letting her enter first. She hasn’t commented on how we took my car from her hotel, how she’s basically dependent on me and my whims. But hey, I’m fucked too; it wasn’t my choice to have someone fill my head, and I didn’t ask that person to come to Florida. We haven’t talked about tomorrow’s schedule, but I’m going to the rich dude’s house with her. He could be a total freak for all I know, so she’s not facing him alone. “Oooh,” she whispers through a reverent puff of air like she’s never seen a cat before. Simon’s playing it up too, slinking around the corner with all the grace in the universe, stroking the doorjamb with a hip before he meanders over to us. “He’s soooo beautiful.” “He’s just a regular old black street cat,” I say, but by the wink she shoots me, she doesn’t buy it. She read me back when too. “’Kay, fine: Simon’s awesome. Straight up the best pelt ever.” “Pelt? You ass,” she giggles as she pets him from the top of his head and down the length of his body to his tail. Simon lifts it, happy. Any minute now, he’ll crank the volume on his purr-machine. “Wow, he purrs loud.” And there. For a cat, he’s being unexpectedly predictable. “He loves the ladies,” I say, which makes her giggle more. I love to make her giggle. When she stands up again, I pull her in with one arm, fingers splayed across her spine. Firm breasts press against me, and I groan a little. She puffs another laugh, all Simon’s fault. He’s gotten to the part of the agenda where he’s going to cramp my style. His purrs reach us from the floor, and he’s scissoring in and out between both of our legs. “Never mind him. Look at me,” I whisper. Let my thumb and forefinger slide over her chin. The amusement recedes from her eyes when she sees that I mean business. I’m hardening. She yelps. Then she laughs out loud. “Simon, quit it!” I say, exasperated, and bend to unhook his claws from the fabric over her knees. “I’m sorry. You see how it is now, right? Obviously, I’m digging my own grave here. There’s no hot lovemaking when your girl’s laughing so hard she’s about to pee herself.
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A Nun Walks into a Bar
by
Tracey Jane Jackson
Mar 29th
After growing up in an abbey, orphan Sadie Ross becomes Sister Abigail Eunice. Her life and career are on track until a chance meeting with a handsome stranger in a place no nun should ever go.
Ryder Carsen’s sister is missing, and he doesn’t have time for distractions. But when a pretty nun walks into his bar, he can’t ignore his attraction to her, even though she’s not the “sister†he’s looking for. He’s relieved when she walks out of his life for what he believes is forever. Sadie’s life takes a surprising detour when she finds her path crossed with Ryder’s once again. When they are brought back together, Ryder knows he’s found the only woman he’ll ever love, but time is running out for his sister. Will Ryder save his sister from the men who took her? When a source far too close to home threatens Sadie, will she trust Ryder enough to let him save her too? 
 
 
CHAPTER ONE
Sister Abigail Eunice
I HAVE BEEN told I look like Mila Kunis, and you’d think this was a good thing, but in my line of work, it’s more of a hindrance. You see, I’m a nun. Admittedly, I’m not a very good one, but nonetheless, I am, in fact, a nun.
Which (in a very roundabout way) led me to a tiny, hole-in-the wall bar at the edge of the Pearl District in Portland, Oregon, on a quiet Wednesday night.
I was supposed to be meeting my friend, Laura, for dinner, but as I stepped off the MAX, I realized I’d gotten off at the wrong stop and, as was my luck, the small wet sprinkle coming from the sky quickly turned into a downpour.
“Well, crap!†I slapped a hand over my mouth and mumbled, “Sorry, Lord.â€
Seriously, I was the worst nun ever.
Unsure of which street I was on, I took shelter under an awning next to a building with a frog motif, but no other identifying information. Frustrated, I fished my phone out of my purse and tried to figure out where I was. I had a missed call from Laura, and a new voicemail, which I could only guess meant she wouldn’t be able to make it.
“Hey, lady. I’m so sorry, I’m stuck at work and I can’t get down to the Pearl for another hour. Do you still want me to try or do you want to resched?†Yes, she said, “resched.†“Anyhoo, text me and let me know what you want to do. Love ya, ’bye.â€
Laura Chan was my oldest friend. She was actually the only one who knew me before the nunnery, and therefore knew me as Sadie Ross, not Sister Abigail Eunice. Laura’s parents had moved from China, and into the house next door, the summer before second grade. She’d spoken very little English, but we still managed to communicate and we roamed the neighborhood, inseparable until my parents’ death. I adored her, even though she wasn’t always reliable. Ever hopeful, however, I always gave people the benefit of the doubt, so here I stood, only slightly protected from the pouring rain. And it was pouring. I fired off a quick text to Laura, pressing send... just as my phone died.
“Oh, holy mother of—†I pulled my sweater closer around me and stepped toward the building’s entrance so I could warm up and perhaps borrow a phone, but just as I moved away from the wall, something came loose from above, dropping a bucket’s worth of collected water on my head. I let out a quiet squeak and pulled off my now soaked veil, yanking open the heavy wooden door and slipping inside.
“ID,†a gruff voice demanded.
I nodded even though I couldn’t see anything in the dark space, reaching into my purse and pulling out my Oregon ID.
A large hand swiped it from me then handed it back. “Sister Abigail, you look lost.â€
I let out a snort. “You have no idea. I’m stranded and my phone died.â€
“Ryder can call you a cab.â€
“Ryder?â€
“Owner.†He nodded toward the back of the building. “He’s at the bar.â€
“Do I really need to go to the bar?†I asked.
“Lady, he’s got the number for the only cab company he trusts and if I let you leave in one from a company he doesn’t trust, he’ll be pissed.â€
I gave him a look of mock concern. “That sounds serious.â€
Bouncer dude chuckled. “Yeah, he’s got this weird thing about sweet women being protected.â€
“What about women who aren’t sweet?†I challenged.
“Those too.†The bouncer laughed. “But the sweet ones always seem to get special treatment.â€
I smiled. “Okay, I’ll head to the bar.â€
“Good plan.â€
I walked past the pool tables, dartboards, and a jukebox playing something with a heavy drumbeat next to the bar, the counter of which ran the length of the building. There weren’t a whole lot of patrons, just a few who looked as though they paid weekly rent for their stools. However, I was surprised by the heart motifs hanging and taped up in a few key places. I guess it made sense... Valentine’s Day was tomorrow, so the bar was probably getting ready.
A tall man with his back to me turned and I felt sucker punched. Like, as in, the breath left my body.
His light-blue eyes met mine and seemed to peer into my soul. I froze, unable to take one more step under the weight of his scrutiny. He crossed his arms, keeping eye contact, and I was drawn into his tractor beam-like pull. I inched forward, one baby step at a time, taking in his light-blond hair, a full beard—not quite Portland hipster full, but still sexy-as-heck full. When my gaze landed on his lips he gave me this incredibly delicious sideways smirk, and Lord help me, I wanted him to kiss me.
See? Worst nun ever.
“You lost, Sister?â€
“How did you know I’m a nun?†Without my veil, most people just threw pitiful glances at my clothes as though I didn’t know how to dress in anything fashionable. I wore a sturdy black wool dress, black tights, and a gray button-up cardigan.
“Couple years of Catholic school. ’Course, I never saw a nun who looked like you, but it’s your shoes that give you away. It’s always the shoes.â€
“Oh.†I bit my lip, glancing at my feet. “Well, you got that right. They call them sensible... I call them ugly.â€
“Not touchin’ that one.†Ryder smiled. “You need directions?â€
I shook my head. “I’m that tale of woe, I’m afraid. My friend couldn’t make our dinner date and my phone died.â€
“You need a cab?â€
“Yes, but do you mind if I just warm up for a minute?â€
“You want some tea?â€
I couldn’t stop a huge smile of relief as I sat on one of the stools. “I would love some tea.â€
“Give me your phone and I’ll charge it for you.â€
“No, that’s okay.†I waved my hand dismissively. “I doubt you’ll have a charger that works.â€
He chuckled. “You’d be surprised.â€
I pulled out my six-year-old flip phone and slid it to him.
“Right,†he said.
“Solve that one,†I retorted with a giggle.
“Oh, you don’t think I can?†He pulled open a drawer next to the cash register. After testing several cords against my phone, he let out a, “Gotcha!†and faced me again, plugging my phone into the wall. “Found one.â€
“How is that even possible?â€
He laughed. “We never throw anything away and people leave shi—ah, stuff here all the time.â€
I raised my hands and gave him quiet applause. “Well done, sir. Well done.â€
He grinned and handed me a cup of hot water and a couple of tea bags. I was pleasantly surprised to see he had my favorite licorice flavor and steeped it in the water while Ryder went about his business.
“You look like you’re gearing up for Valentine’s Day,†I said, and sipped my tea.
Ryder shook his head. “Not my choice.â€
“Aren’t you the owner?â€
He chuckled. “Doesn’t mean I’m not ruled by my patrons.â€
“Ah, so not a romantic, then.â€
“Just think men should show their women they love ’em every day... not wait for one day out of the year. The whole holiday is a farce, in my opinion.â€
I smiled. Maybe he was a romantic.
As he freshened my hot water, I wondered what my fellow sisters would think about the predicament I’d gotten myself into. Granted, they rarely left the abbey, but they also didn’t have jobs like I did.
Being a fourth-grade teacher and working for the Catholic school next to our living quarters was a perfect setup for me. Lately, however, I’d been feeling restless and I know Reverend Mother noticed. In fact, I had a meeting with her in the morning and it sounded serious, so being late or tired would not be an option. Perhaps my ill-fated evening was cut short for a very good reason. Mother always says God works in mysterious ways.
“You ready for that cab?â€
Ryder’s question pulled me from my thoughts and I smiled, shaking my head. “Is it okay if I stick around for a little bit?â€
“Knock yourself out.†He glanced at his watch. “But you’re outta here within the hour. It gets a little rowdy at night.â€
“Your bouncer warned me about you.â€
“Yeah?â€
I wrapped my hands around the cup, warming them. “He said you’re very protective of women.â€
He glanced behind me and then met my eyes again. “Bennie talks too much.â€
“Maybe so.†I shrugged and then sipped my tea again.
“What do people call you other than ‘Sister’?â€
“Nothing. I’m Sister Abigail Eunice. Although my parents named me Sadie.â€
Now why did I share that? I hadn’t used my real name in years.
He leaned against the bar. “Pretty.â€
My breath caught. “My parents thought so,†I said once I could speak again.
“But not you?â€
“No, I like it fine. I guess I don’t really think about my name much.†I shrugged. “My students call me Sister and I don’t have many friends outside of... well, outside.†I shook my head. “Gosh, that sounds so narrow.â€
Ryder grinned. “Sheltered perhaps.â€
“That’s very gracious, Ryder.â€
He cocked his head. “Never been called gracious before.â€
Elbow on the bar, I settled my chin in my palm. “That surprises me.â€
“Of course it does. You’re a nun.â€
“Meaning?â€
“You’re gracious to everyone, so you assume others will be gracious as well.â€
“I’m not gracious to everyone. I’m a nun, not perfect.â€
Ryder shrugged. “Fair enough.â€
“I should go.â€
“Probably a good idea.†He grabbed his cell phone and put it to his ear. “Hey. Got time to drop someone home?†He faced me. “Where do you live?â€
“Beaverton.â€
“Beaverton. Great. Yeah, five minutes works. Thanks.†Ryder hung up and slid his phone back in his pocket.
“You’re pretty friendly with the cab company, huh?†I took the last swig of tea and set the cup down.
“One of my guys is taking you home.â€
“I thought you were calling me a cab.â€
“Can’t let a nun pay the cab fare all the way to Beaverton.â€
I frowned. “You don’t think I can pay for cab fare?â€
“Not what I said, Sister.â€
“Wow, you really take this whole I-am-man-hear-me-roar stuff, to a whole ’nother level, huh?â€
His gaze went to something (or someone) behind me and he nodded. “Ride’s here.â€
I decided not to argue; probably because it would do absolutely no good, and slid off my stool. “Thanks for the tea.â€
“Anytime, Sister.â€
Somehow, him calling me “Sister†felt lacking. I took a deep breath. Lordy, I was ridiculous... and I probably needed to confess, but I knew I wouldn’t.
Again, worst nun award goes to...
Ryder grabbed my phone and stepped out from behind the bar. “My number’s in there if you need anything.â€
“What would I need?†I asked, and took the phone from him.
He shrugged. “You never know, Sister. It’s a resource. Feel free to use it.â€
What a strange thing to say.
“Thanks for everything, Ryder,†I said, leaving my internal thoughts in my head.
“No problem.†He nodded toward his friend. “This is Reese. He’s gonna take you home.â€
Reese was tall, dark, and handsome as they say, but he had an edge about him that made me a little nervous. His hair was longer than Ryder’s and kind of shaggy, and he was quite muscular. I was fairly confident he wouldn’t hurt me, but had I met him under different circumstances, I might have declined a ride.
A warm hand settled on my back and I felt a shiver steal down my spine.
“You okay, Sister?†he asked.
“Yes, fine.â€
“You’re safe with him, yeah? You have any issues, you call me.â€
“Okay.†I stepped away from his touch and forced a smile. “Reese, it’s lovely to meet you. Thank you for the ride.â€
“No problem.†He waved his hand toward the door. “This way.â€
With a backward glance and smile to Ryder, I followed Reese out to the car, grateful he wasn’t a big talker. Our conversation consisted of him asking me for my address and me giving it to him. The rest of the ride strictly featured me gripping the door handle (as was my habit). I hated cars and avoided them whenever I could.
It didn’t take long to arrive at the rectory and I thanked Reese and climbed out of the car, a little taken aback when he followed. “I’m fine from here.â€
“Ryder’d kick my a—rear if I didn’t make sure you made it inside safely.â€
“Right, his protection fetish.â€
Reese chuckled but didn’t comment.
I led him up the brick walkway and to the back of the building where I unlocked the door and stepped inside. “Thanks again for the ride.â€
“My pleasure, Sister. Have a good night.â€
He walked away, and I closed and locked the door.
New York Times Bestselling Author, Tracey Jane Jackson, was born and raised in New Zealand, and that's where her love of horses was formed. Her grandfather taught her to ride at four years old, and she couldn't get enough.
Her love and passion for Abraham Lincoln and the entire Civil War era might have come from her American father, however, he lays no claim to influencing her. Tracey's mother used to tell her she was simply born in the wrong place in the wrong time. Tracey hasn't always wanted to write. It took her a long time to get started, but now she doesn't seem to be able to stop, the joy of escaping to the 1860s is too much fun. She's been happily married and gooey in love with her husband for more than twenty years. They live in the Pacific Northwest with their two sons. BE SURE TO SIGN UP ON MY MAILING LIST FOR SPECIAL COUPONS AND CONTESTS. 
 
 
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Book Title: Heartbreakers and Heroes
Author: Various Authors
Genre: Contemporary romance
Release Date: June 21, 2016
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
 Get your hands on TWELVE sexy HEARTBREAKERS AND HEROES, a brotherhood bound by their troubled youth. A tragedy reminds them of the mentor who taught them all the rules to become a man. But some of them haven’t been following the rules…These TWELVE new novellas from USA Today bestsellers and your favorite contemporary authors are sure get your pulse racing and heart pounding. HIDING WITH THE HEARTBREAKER by USA Today bestseller by Virginia Nelson Rule: Protect the innocent. Making people laugh for a living is easy, but when a beautiful stranger needs Aloysius Sutton’s help, he has to find a way to become Jude’s hero. HOW TO UNBREAK A HEART by USA Today bestseller Jennie Marts Rule: If you love her, don’t let her go. Solitary cowboy, Trip Turner finally has a chance to correct the mistakes he made when he let the woman he loved walk out of his life twelve years ago. But now that Bre Wilson is back, will he be able to unbreak her heart? SECOND CHANCE HERO by Michelle Major Rule: A real man doesn’t build himself up by tearing someone else down. Travis Jackson might not be the white knight Hailey Moore needs, but he’ll risk his future to win her heart. TO BE HER HERO by Tonya Burrows Rule: A real man always protects the women in his life. Sixteen years ago, bodyguard Graham Lawson failed to protect Kendall Mills and it cost him her love. He’s not going to make that same mistake twice. HERO IN DISGUISE by Sharla Lovelace Rule: A real man doesn’t buy respect, he earns it. Billionaire playboy Jake Jericho thinks he has it all, until one phone call reminds him otherwise. Can one week in disguise reform this trust fund playboy, or will his deception destroy the only real love he’s ever known? HER HEARTBREAKER BOSS by Carmen Falcone Rule: Never leave your woman unsatisfied. Can Stefano and Roxie resist the heat flaring between them or will working together force them to face their rocky past and give them the happily ever after they deserve? HOW TO BE A HEARTBREAKER by Codi Gary Rule: A real man never kisses and tells. When an A list actor returns to his hometown, old wounds and fresh gossip emerge… along with a second chance at love, if he’s brave enough to stick around. REFORMING THE HEARTBREAKER by Christine Glover Rule: A real man never breaks a woman’s heart. Can Olympic mountain bike champion Ryder Bennett and his public relations rep Addison Carrington keep things professional between them this time around, or will they risk a sexy scandal for a chance at love? HER UNWANTED HERO by Veronica Forand Rule: A real man always helps someone in need… he may be the only one who does. A disenchanted police officer must choose between keeping a woman’s affection or keeping her alive. ONCE A HEARTBREAKER by T.J. Kline Rule: A real man never lies, especially to a woman. Ty Preston ran out on the woman he loved twelve years ago, but now he’s back to prove he’s a changed man. However, Rayne can’t risk getting her heart broken by the cowboy again. MAKE MINE A HEARTBREAKER by Jodi Linton Rule: A real man never falls for his friend’s sister… ever. She’s about to change this playboy’s rule book. TUTORING THE HEARTBREAKER TO LOVE by Hayson Manning Rule: A real man never touches the hired help. Can Savannah teach serial heartbreaker Walker to be domesticated in ten days and convince them that maybe they can have s shot at a ‘them’ or can Walker convince Savannah there can be a ‘them’ on his terms only? 
Hayson Manning
Hayson Manning writes fun and flirty romances with spicy flavor. She loves Princess Bride, hates peas and believes wine goes with everything.
Sharla Lovelace is the bestselling, award-winning author of sexy small-town love stories, including the exciting new Heart Of The Storm series. She's proud to say she lives in Southeast Texas with her retired husband, a tricked-out golf cart, and two crazy dogs.
Veronica Forand
A Golden Pen winner in romantic suspense, Veronica Forand is an attorney and a novelist. An avid traveler, she loves to roam across continents with her husband and kids in pursuit of skiing, scuba diving, and finding the perfect piece of chocolate.
Virginia Nelson
Christine Glover
Michelle Major
Michelle Major is the best selling, award winning author of over a dozen sweet and sexy contemporary romances.
Carmen Falcone
Carmen Falcone writes sexy, edgy, emotional romance. She's addicted to happy endings, sunshine and Ryan Gosling.
Tonya Burrows
Jodi Linton
Jennie Marts
T.J. Kline
Codi Gary
    
  
by Intisar Khanani Genre: YA Fantasy Release Date: June 17th 2013 Summary from Goodreads: The winding streets and narrow alleys of Karolene hide many secrets, and Hitomi is one of them. Orphaned at a young age, Hitomi has learned to hide her magical aptitude and who her parents really were. Most of all, she must conceal her role in the Shadow League, an underground movement working to undermine the powerful and corrupt Arch Mage Wilhelm Blackflame. When the League gets word that Blackflame intends to detain—and execute—a leading political family, Hitomi volunteers to help the family escape. But there are more secrets at play than Hitomi’s, and much worse fates than execution. When Hitomi finds herself captured along with her charges, it will take everything she can summon to escape with her life. 
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Memories of Ash (The Sunbolt Chronicles #2) Pre-Order Links ($0.99 Special):
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About the Author
Intisar Khanani grew up a nomad and world traveler. Born in Wisconsin, she has lived in five different states as well as in Jeddah on the coast of the Red Sea. She first remembers seeing snow on a wintry street in Zurich, Switzerland, and vaguely recollects having breakfast with the orangutans at the Singapore Zoo when she was five. She currently resides in Cincinnati, Ohio, with her husband and two young daughters. Until recently, Intisar wrote grants and developed projects to address community health with the Cincinnati Health Department, which was as close as she could get to saving the world. Now she focuses her time on her two passions: raising her family and writing fantasy. Intisar's next two projects include a companion trilogy to Thorn, following the heroine introduced in her short story The Bone Knife, and The Sunbolt Chronicles, a novella serial following a young mage with a propensity to play hero, and her nemesis, a dark mage intent on taking over the Eleven Kingdoms.
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Excerpt
In the darkness, something chuckles, a sound like the rustling of dead grasses, the snapping of winter-hardened twigs underfoot. “Amused?†Kol asks. “I thought you would appreciate her.†“Your men run like startled rabbits. Their noses even twitch the same way.†I press my back against the wall, turn my head to face the door, and then slowly, while the lantern still lights the room, slide a glance towards the speaker. Kol tries to laugh. “Humans.†The creature doesn’t answer. He sits against the far wall, his legs crossed, his back resting against the stones. He is tall and gaunt, so thin his face is but a skull stretched over with skin, his eyes so faintly colored that I can almost imagine they are not even there. His hair falls to his shoulders in a straggly fringe of white. His tunic and pants hang off his frame, and his hands where they rest over his knees are hardly more than bone. If he were human, he would be dead. Kol says, “You’ll want to know a thing or two about your dinner.†
Title: 223 Bonny Street
Author: Firi Kamson Genre: Adult, Women's Fiction Published: March 27, 2016 
    “Nkechi! Why did you scare us like that? I have told you, you have to be strong”, the frail looking old woman, who had helped him get up, spoke. Looking at her again, he tried to remember who she was. “Okay ma”, he replied, whilst still struggling to get to grips with the whole situation. Swallowing his question, sensing that this old lady wasn’t to be questioned by anybody, he remained puzzled. Looking at the chair he was sitting on, he realised this wasn't his favorite army green reclining chair, where he sat in the evenings watching football, with strict house rules that nobody else was allowed to sit on his chair, not even the president. Turning to his left, he saw a group of men, who looked like they were in their mid forties or early fifties, and what struck him was that they were all wearing black, and they looked his way, speaking amongst themselves. “Please, what are these men doing”, he asked the young lady who was standing by his side. Looking at him rather strangely. “They are discussing the burial preparation of Godwin”, she whispered. “Who is Godwin?” he asked, as he watched the blood drain from her face. Whispering something he couldn't hear to the old frail looking lady, she turned to him. Taking his hands in hers. “Come with me”, she ordered. Still not settled after what had happened to him, Ikenna obliged. Allowing himself to be dragged as they walked into a dark room, she switched on the light and shoved him in front of the big standing mirror. “Look at yourself properly in the mirror, before you ask me that rubbish question again, about Godwin”. The moment Ikenna looked at the mirror he knew that he must have become mentally deranged. What he was looking at was the face and body of a woman. A woman, who had aged overnight, even though she was relatively young. She was of average height, had a round face, full bosom, but the bottom line was that he was a woman and was pregnant. Turning around, as he looked at the lady, he muttered, “Who is this? Is this a joke?” Glancing at the mirror again, he touched his skin. 
    
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Release Date: March 22, 2016
Genre: YA paranormal
Tagline: Can history repeat itself if you can’t remember your past?
Seventeen-year-old Cara Tillman’s worst nightmare has come true…
She’s been reborn as a Phoenix and has forgotten everything from her first life—including Logan Schmidt. He’s handsome and protective, but with no recollection, he can’t be trusted.
Accused of being a Hunter, Logan’s mortality is put to the test…
Logan isn’t willing to admit he and Cara are over—not even after he watches her rise from her own ashes.
While the other Phoenixes are convinced Logan is a sworn enemy, a group of deadly Hunters are sure he is a Phoenix. Only being guilty of loving Cara, he must prove them all wrong—and convince Cara she loves him.
However, a magical link may be the demise of Logan’s devotion…
With the Hunters hot on their heels, it’s up to Logan to save Cara. But when the dagger calls out, Logan is drawn to its power.
Cara’s missing memories may not be the only obstacle standing between her and Logan. Their relationship isn’t just complicated—it’s deadly. And when Cara finds herself at a crossroad, she is forced to choose…
She can plunge into the darkness of her treacherous fate, or use her Phoenix instincts to once again rise Out of The Ashes.
EXCERPT
Within minutes, everyone is yelling. It feels like it’s all my fault. If only I could remember what happened at the school. Before I woke up in Logan’s arms, all that’s there is a vague memory of Mom, Jeremy, and the other Phoenixes. No actual memories. Only names and faces.
“We all need to calm down,” Linette says, taking a seat on the couch. “Yelling isn’t going to solve anything. We can’t even hear each other.”
“She’s right.” Mom pats my head like I’m a toddler. I guess I am in this life, but I’m still physically seventeen.
I step away, not wanting to touch anyone right now. I know she’s my mom, but she’s just as much a stranger to me as this Logan guy is. He said he loves me. Is that true? Or is he another Hunter, preying on me because I’m a newborn Phoenix? So many questions. That’s all I have, and it’s making my head hurt.
Logan scans the room. “Is anybody going to let me tell you what happened?”
Garret is standing at his side, apparently not willing to let Logan get more than two feet away from him. “I’m sure that would be very entertaining,” Garret says.
“Let him talk.” The words come tumbling out of my mouth. Everyone turns to me, and one corner of Logan’s mouth curves up. I look away, not sure how to act around him. Hell, I don’t know how to act at all. Thank God we only forget everything after our first rebirth because I couldn’t take going through this three more times before I die. If a Hunter doesn’t kill me before I live all five of my lives, that is.
Mom reaches for me, but I take a deep breath and shake my head. “I’m fine. I want to hear what Logan has to say. He was there with me. He didn’t hurt me when I woke up in his arms, so I think I owe it to him to hear him out.”
“You don’t owe anything to a Hunter, Cara,” Garret spits out.
Mom shoots him a look. “Garret, that isn’t helping.”
Logan starts toward me, and Garret grabs him.
“What do you think I’m going to do?” Logan asks, sounding equally frustrated and heartbroken. “I’m handcuffed, my palms are burned to crisps, and the last time I checked, I’m the only human in a room full of Phoenixes.”
Part of me wants to laugh because it sounds crazy, but so does burning to ashes and rising up out of them. Yet, here I am.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kelly Hashway grew up reading R.L. Stein’s Fear Street novels and writing stories of her own, so it was no surprise to her family when she majored in English and later obtained a masters degree in English Secondary Education from East Stroudsburg University. After teaching middle school language arts for seven years, Hashway went back to school and focused specifically on writing. She is now the author of three young adult series, one middle grade series, and several picture books. She also writes contemporary romance under the pen name Ashelyn Drake. When she isn’t writing, Hashway works as a freelance editor for small presses as well as for her own list of clients. In her spare time, she enjoys running, traveling, and volunteering with the PTO. Hashway currently resides in Pennsylvania with her husband, daughter, and two pets.
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