Contests on my fb

2 Contests available on my fb page https://www.facebook.com/authornwolf/

Book Reveiw Almost Innocent

This is not a fluffy romance, if you want lovey dovey look elsewhere. This was a dark romance but it was a beautiful story. This is a romance that refuses to give up on each other. The story it told from the perspective of both of the  main character. I found it to be well balanced between the two. This story had a bunch of great twists! This story was not predictable at all, it was exciting and powerful. This book keeps you captivated the whole time; it was super hard to put down. It was very well written, and shook you to the core. there were a few grammatical issues and missing words, but it didn't distract from the reading. If you  can read darker stuff I suggest this book! 

Reveiw Stanton Bliss by T. L. Swan

Firstly grammatically the book was well written, I only found a few mistakes -mine used instead of my, a missing 'a' here and there, a name misspelled, etc...- and a few sentences were a little confusing.
This is the conclusion to the Stanton series which, if I'm being honest I didn't read the others, but boy do I want to. I wouldn't recommend reading this if you haven't read the other but I never follow the rules. For not having read the rest of the story I wasn't very confused. I managed to keep up with what was happening and filled in what was missing. Reading the rest of the series is now on my to-read list because it  is a very intriguing story. I didn't feel that parts of the story felt rushed and others felt dragged on, but for the most part the story was well balanced. I can't wait to read more!

Grab your copy TODAY!!

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1Pt2fIS

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/28ahcpF

iBooks: http://apple.co/25FCvk2

Nook: http://bit.ly/1UjVyVZ

Kobo: http://bit.ly/1UjVq8F

 

Haven’t read this series yet?

Now is your chance to grab the Stanton Box Set!

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/22LA8Y7

Guess who's starting a new book?

I got the idea for a horror/mystery story and the plot just rolled naturally. I don't know when I'll start the writing or just how long it will be but this is what I have so far.
"It dark and cold, my mind says it should smell musky, but I can't breathe or move. If I knew it would be this lonely I would have been cremated."
"'I can't sleep' she whispered as she crawled into my bed. I woke with start my body cold as I clutched the dress she was buried in."
She woke up dead and buried. She find her way out and her way to him. She doesn't know why she can't sleep but she thinks it's because her murder is running free. How does a ghost solve her murder if no one can hear her?
He hears her, he feels the cold she brings and her icy fingers caress his cheek. The police said it was suicide but he knows her, he know she wouldn't take her life. He know she's here because her soul can't sleep because she was murdered and no one knows it but him. Why can't she say anything besides "I can't sleep,"? How do you solve a murder everyone has ruled a suicide, when your only witness is the the dead victim?

Stanton bliss Excerpt Reveal

 

Blurb

We've changed. Darker, damaged and unable to conform. My husband Joshua is dealing with the past the best that he can.....as am I.

Nobody else can understand the language we speak. The trauma we have been through.

But with the pain comes pleasure and happiness is our gift.

 

Excerpt

My eyes glance up to the stone staircase for the hundredth time as my heart hammers in my chest.

“She changed her mind,” Cameron whispers. “Smart woman. She’s currently on her way to Ibiza.”

I throw him a glare and Adrian chuckles.

Eight years and it all comes down to this – this moment in time where we become one.

A united family.

A broad smile instantly crosses my face as the thought runs through my mind.

I inhale deeply. What the fuck is taking them so long? I turn back to Ben who is sitting in the front row. “What time did they get back from the beach?” I frown.

Max smirks. “Relax. She’s fine. I checked on her half an hour ago. She’s ready to go.”

I nod nervously and blow out a breath. Ok, relax. I shake my head and look at the ground as my nerves, once again, steal my rationality.

“Here they come,” Adrian whispers and my eyes instantly flick to the top of the stone staircase. I see them. First Abbie, then Bridget.

I feel like I can’t breathe.

A smile spreads across my face as my girl comes into focus on Brock’s arm, the wind whipping through her hair.

She looks gorgeous… and not because she is wearing a sexier than hell wedding dress – although, that could have a lot to do with it.

It’s her smile.

Her strength.

Her courage, and the love that has shone through to me since she has been found.

I always knew she was strong, but I had no idea to what depth.

Her eyes lock on mine as she walks down the stairs like a rock star without one single hesitation.

God, I love this woman.

She is wearing a fitted, white satin dress, and her hair is down and full with a large white flower tucked behind one ear. I have never seen anything more beautiful and I feel myself harden as a wave of emotion hits me like a tsunami. Fuck… not now.

I have to stop myself from running up the stairs to greet her, to pull her down to me. Hurry up!

I watch intently with my heart in my throat and, after what seems like an eternity, she arrives at the bottom of the staircase before making her way to the alter on our ledge.

“Hello.” She smiles softly.

“Hello,” I whisper, and before I can stop myself, I have her in my arms and I’m kissing her gently on the lips. I haven’t seen her all day and I’ve missed her so desperately. Tash closes her eyes and kisses me back, then again, and before either of us know what’s happening, we are kissing passionately and our friends are all laughing.

We eventually pull apart from each other in realization of what we are doing.

Fucking hell, reign it in, Stanton.

There is a time and a place, and at the alter, on your wedding day, with everyone watching isn’t it.

The memory of us making out on the dance floor, that first night at Scott’s wedding, comes to the forefront of my mind, and I have to bite my bottom lip to hold back my grin

What is it about us and weddings?

The minister moves forward and smiles warmly. “Can you take each others hands please?”

My eyes flick to the minister, Father Joseph. I flew him in from L.A. yesterday. I had to be positive that the marriage was legal, and the only way I could ensure that was to get him here myself.

Natasha and I face each other and she giggles loudly.

“Holy crap. We are getting married!” she exclaims excitedly as she lifts her flower bouquet in the air. Everyone bursts into laughter and I melt as my eyes hold hers. That is such a Natasha thing to say.

And then I’m transfixed.

I watch my beautiful Natasha declare her love with her sacred wedding vows and I watch as she slides the gold band on my finger. I, in return declare mine vows to her and slide the gold band onto her finger.

She slowly leans forward and tenderly places her hand on my cheek and kisses me, sweeter than anything I have ever experienced, longed for with all of my heart. I feel myself well up and blink to stop myself from crying.

The love on the ledge, both between us and from our families, is so strong that I’m sure it could be felt from another galaxy, it’s such a tangible force. I pull out of her kiss and glance around to see everyone seems to be feeling the same way, all of them wiping their eyes, overcome with emotion. Even Ben has a tear in his eye. Nothing has ever felt so right and so damn well fucking deserved.

I desperately wish I could bottle this perfect moment in time so I could replay it again and again throughout my life.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Through teary eyes Natasha laughs, leans closer, and tenderly cups my face.

“Kiss me, my husband.”

Our lips touch and I am lost.

T.L. Swan’s newest release in the Stanton Series drops on June 5th!

You don’t want to miss this final chapter in Stanton Bliss!

Add to your TBR at: http://bit.ly/1UbDv6B

Cover Reveal Ollie by Gina Whitney

 This looks interesting...

Blurb

Two men.

One woman.

During one of the darkest moments in Allison’s life, she met two men. She loved them both, but not equally. One made her feel alive when she was so close to feeling dead inside. The other made her feel safe, protecting her against the world.

One took her heart, and then vanished.

The other settled for her friendship, but never stopped loving her.

Two hearts.

One choice.

The rocker who became her rock. 

Or the flame who's burned her more than once. 

One she can’t live with. 

The other she can't live without.

What do you do when the one who broke you is the only one who can fix you? And the one who has always been there, hiding in the shadows for his chance, is now taking center stage?

 

Meet Ollie on June 15th!

Add Ollie by Gina Whitney to your TBR here:

http://bit.ly/1sN8cGN

Until June Book Review

I didn't read any of the other books in the series and I didn't have to. This book was good. There were some times where I felt the author was including things that weren't necessary for the story, but it was still a good story. A few grammatical and spelling errors are expected for first editions, but there weren't many.
The story itself was a sweet romance with a few intense times of drama. The story's pace is a medium, not to fast and not to slow. The romantic sense were great, and enticing. You can't help but fall in love with the characters. Personally I enjoyed this book and will be looking into the ones that came before it.

Almost Innocent Cover Reveal

I'm loving this cover!

personally I like a dark or heavy read so this book is so something I'm looking forward to it coming out if 

you like a dark romance without the fluff add Almost Innocent by Carina Adams to your TBR for a June 9th release here:
http://bit.ly/1rNKoSs

Callaghan. A name synonymous with power and fear. A family of untouchable criminals.
 

Blurb
As a teenager, Gabriella Forte had no intention of getting to know the town's most dangerous brothers. Once Dustin set his sights on her, she was trapped. There was only one way out of her personal hell.

Declan was determined to break away from his family's shadow. Until he fell in love with the one woman he couldn't have. She changed everything.

Life isn't always kind. Love can hurt. Sometimes you need to sacrifice yourself to protect the people you care about.

It's been twelve years since Declan did the unthinkable and went to prison. He promised to stay away from Gabby and his nephew. That's one vow he can't keep.

Things aren't always what they seem. Facts are only as credible as the person stating them. The truth doesn't always set you free.

Warning: This is a dark romance. If domestic violence bothers you, if you can't read violence in literature, or you are looking for a light and fluffy read, this book is not for you.

Surprise Cover Reveal from Geneva Lee!

Whoo hoo! I love Ms. Lee's work I can't wait for this to come out!

Blurb

In a world with too much money and not enough rules, anything goes. Welcome to Belle Mère, the most exclusive zip code outside the Las Vegas Strip. It's every sinner's fantasy and every good parent's worst nightmare.

Emma Southerly doesn't belong at Belle Mère Prep despite her new stepfather's money. Not after she shunned her invite to the popular table, and especially not after what happened last summer. So when her best friend begs her to crash an invite-only, end of the year party, she should say no with a capitol H-E-L-L.  

It's just a party. What could go wrong?

Getting kicked out to start. Running into the man who destroyed your family.

Everything.

Until she meets Jamie, who's also hiding from the in-crowd. After spending the night with the cute stranger, Emma barely makes it home before news hits Belle Mère's brunch tables. A body's been found on the West estate, and Jamie is the number one suspect. But he couldn't have done it…right?

Emma isn't sure she can trust him or the rest of Belle Mère. After all, no one is safe when everyone is a liar.

Gilt:  By Invitation Only releases on May 31st!  

Pre-order your copy today!

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/24VbxRO

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1WBCsjL

iBooks: http://apple.co/1qoa46V

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1TSOi2L

Writing and being a mom

So, the last two days I've been babysitting my friend's 4 month old baby boy. He is a very chill baby, my 2 year old was loving having a baby in the house. Well, despite having 2 kids to watch and a house to take care of, I still managed to get a chapter written! Here's how I did it...
 I put the 2 year old in the high chair to eat and gave the baby his bottle. Once he was burped the 2 year old was still eating so, little man got some tummy time in the kitchen while I finished the dishes. The kitchen counter got all wiped down and the toddler wanted out. While little man went down for a nap, the toddler and I cleaned her room. I turned putting the toys in the bin a game, every time i miss I had to jumping jacks. Once that was done she needed to go potty after cheering and thanking her for telling me she was rewarded with watching "Blah blah blah" (Hotel Transylvania 2). Little man was still sleeping soundly so I wrote a few pages. Half way through the movie little man woke up and need a change. Once he was clean we dance while I one-handed swept and mopped the kitchen. Then he got to lay down in my bed with the toddler watching Little Einsteins while I folded laundry and picked up the mess in my room. After reading stories while I fed little man and little Tsula turned the pages, he sat on my lap while I typed out a few pages and my toddler colored in her Minions book and then herself. Then while she ate dinner little man and I did some baby work outs so he could get the gas out. The two monster watched Dragon Tales while I cooked dinner and then finished most of my chapter! Finally my hubby came home and praise me on the house which made me feel really good. Little man's mommy came to pick him up and Tsula went to bed after many goodnight kisses and a slight melt down because her favorite blanky was in the dirty pile thanks to that after dinner Ice cream. It took 4 blankies and 4 extra toys and the promise that Callie will be clean for the morning to get her to sleep. Now, while the rest of the laundry and her blanky is washing I finished off my chapter and wrote this post. I will be reading 2 chapters of a book I've been so lucky to receive an ARC (advanced reading copy) to review before bed. As long as I can continue to read 2 chapters before bed I'll finish in time for when my review is due.
Being a stay at home mom is a tough job if you are trying to do other work as well. Finding time to write can be tough, but when I get words out in to me file it feels so good. At the end of the day when I am thoroughly exhausted it feels so good to relax and read something great out write down what's been bouncing around in my mind. It feels good to accomplish what I do and have the ability to spend so much time with my little one.

Doesn't this look interesting

Blurb

We've changed. Darker, damaged and unable to conform. My husband Joshua is dealing with the past the best that he can.....as am I.

Nobody else can understand the language we speak. The trauma we have been through.

But with the pain comes pleasure and happiness is our gift.

Update

So, I finished writing my second book! It is NOT part of the S.U.I.T.S series it will be a book all alone for now. I will publish it as soon the cover is ready. As for my S.U.I.T.S series I am currently finished writing chapter 2!

Until June Prologue

Prologue

Looking at my reflection in the mirror across from me, I cringe. My hair is a disaster, there are bags under my eyes, and the nightgown I have on isn’t even one of the cute ones I normally wear. It’s the one my sister, December, got me as a joke, but I wear it occasionally, because its comfortable, even if it was made for a woman three times my age. Resting my elbows on the desk in front of me, I run my fingers through my hair, pulling the strands back away from my face.

“I hate men,” I whisper into the empty interrogation room, where I was told to wait over an hour ago after the police kicked in my door and dragged me from my bed. Lifting my gaze, I look at myself in the mirror again and vow that whenever I get out of the mess my ex-boyfriend has gotten me into, I’m going to learn how to be a lesbian, even if I’m not sure that’s actually possible.

“June Mayson.” Turning my head, I look over my shoulder at the now open door behind me, and my eyes meet those of a man who reminds me of my dad. He looks to be in his mid-forties, and is one of those men time has been kind to. He’s built, with dark hair that’s cut short and parted on the side. His eyes are a blue that stands out against his dark lashes and tan skin. “I’m Officer Mitchell, and this is Officer Plymouth.” He nods behind him and is followed in by a man who must be playing the roll off ‘Bad Cop’, judging by the frown on his face and the look he gives me when our eyes meet. Time hasn’t been as kind to him; he looks like he has enjoyed one too many beers. His middle is soft, and his skin doesn’t look healthy.

Nodding, I cross my arms over my chest and run my hands down the bare skin of my biceps that’s chilled from the cool air coming from the vent above me.

“Would you like something to drink?” Officer Mitchell asks as he walks fully into the room.

Shaking my head, I mutter, “No, thank you.”

“Hot chocolate?” he offers, and I feel tears burn the back of my eyes. Since I was little, whenever I was having a bad day, my dad would offer me hot chocolate. His hot chocolate has magical powers that always make everything seem okay, but I doubt police station hot chocolate would have the same effect.

“No, thanks. I’d just like to know why I’m here,” I tell him as he takes a seat in the metal chair across from me and places a thick folder on the table between us.

“We may be here awhile, Miss Mayson, so I’d like you to be comfortable,” he says gently, and I look at Officer Plymouth, who is leaning against the wall, then back to him.

“I don’t mean to be rude, Mr. Mitchell, but I’d really like to get to the point. I have class in a few hours and I’d really like to make it on time.”

“I’m afraid you’re probably going to miss your class today, Miss Mayson.”

Closing my eyes, I open them slowly and ask, “Can I get a sweater?”

Surprisingly, Officer Plymouth slips off his suit jacket and walks it over to me, placing it around my shoulders.

‘Thank you,” I whisper up at him, and his eyes soften around the edges. Pulling my eyes from him, my gaze goes back toward Officer Mitchell.

“How long have you known Lane Diago?” Officer Mitchell asks, and I sit up a little taller.

“I don’t know anyone by that name,” I tell him, and he opens the file folder, fanning out a few pictures of my ex-boyfriend, Aaron, and me directly in front of me. Each of them were taken while we were a couple, showing we had been followed more than a few times. Him coming to my apartment…him kissing me outside my car…at the store, walking hand-in-hand down the aisles…at the movies…out to dinner…both of us doing normal couple things.

“You mean Aaron?”

“That what he told you his name was?” he asks, and I nod looking up at him.

“I’ve known him for about a year,” I whisper, dropping my eyes to the pictures again, realizing I actually didn’t know him, since his name isn’t even Aaron.

“How long have you two been dating?” he inquires, and my eyes drop to the pictures once more.

“We dated for about four months. I broke up with him a month ago,” I tell him truthfully as a feeling of sadness hits me unexpectedly. I wasn’t in love with Aaron—or Lane. Not even close. But I cared about him, and believed he cared about me as well. That was, until he sent me a text to meet him at his house. When I got there, one of his roommates let me in, and I found him up in his room with Susie Detrei’s mouth around his cock, proving I was wrong about him.

“You were close,” Officer Mitchell states, and I nod because we were, or I thought we were. “Can you tell me who this man is?” he asks, pulling out a picture of Aaron’s—Lane’s cousin, or at least the guy he told me was his cousin.

“Aaron…I mean Lane’s cousin Cody. He lives in Mississippi,” I tell him.

“Did you ever overhear them talking?”

“Overhear them talking?” I ask, looking at a picture of Cody and Lane sitting in what looks like a bar, Lane with his favorite beer in his hand, and Cody with a short, wide glass with dark liquid and ice on the bar top in front of him, and his hand wrapped around it while he laughs at something.

“Overhear them talking about anything out of the ordinary?”

“No.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Maybe if you told me exactly why I’m here, I can give you the information you’re looking for.”

“Lane Diago’s uncle is one of the biggest distributors of illegal narcotics in Alabama, Kentucky, Tennessee, Mississippi, Georgia, and South Carolina.”

“What?” I whisper as my eyes focus on one of the pictures of Lane and me standing outside my apartment. I was wearing a short colorful summer dress and gold strappy sandals, and Lane had on a pair of black cargo shorts and a plain white tee. His head was bent toward mine, my hand was resting against his chest, and his was wrapped tight around my hip. It was our third date and our first kiss. I had waited forever to even go on a date with him, because I wasn’t ready for a relationship. I finally gave in to him, because he was so persistent. He asked me out every time we saw each other, and he was always dramatic in the way he did it.

“Did you ever see—”

“I never saw anything,” I cut him off. “Lane didn’t even smoke pot, and almost everyone I know smokes pot,” I whisper, pulling my eyes from the picture to look at him.

“You two were together a lot. He would have you drop him places. My men saw you on more than one occasion.”

“To friends’ houses,” I tell him, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. “If he asked me to drop him to a friend’s or to run him somewhere when we were going out, I would do it, but I never saw him do anything illegal.”

“Do you understand you can go to prison if we find out you spent any of the money he earned from selling drugs on things for yourself.”

Laughing, I cover my face with my hands and lay my head on the table while I try to pull myself together. I probably shouldn’t be laughing right now but its either laugh or cry.

“What do you find funny about this?” Officer Plymouth asks, and I lift my head to look at him.

“I paid for us to do things more than once, and he even asked me for gas money a couple of times. I never, not once, took money from him, not even for a coffee,” I tell him, and his eyes go to Officer Mitchell, who mutters, “Fuck.”

“He cheated on me a month ago, and I haven’t talked to him since then,” I tell him, and he shakes his head.

“We have time stamps for phone calls between the two of you over the last month.”

“Did you ever look at how long those calls lasted?” I ask, knowing that if he did, he would know we didn’t actually talk. “He called. He called over and over. Finally, I had to pick up to tell him to stop calling me. I didn’t want anything to do with him a month ago, and I sure as hell don’t want anything to do with him now.”

“Another fucking road block,” Officer Plymouth grumbles, and my head swings to him.

“I’m sorry. I swear that if I knew anything, I would help you out, but I don’t. Lane never told me anything, and I sure as hell didn’t see anything. If I had, I would have talked to my uncle about it.”

“You’re sure you didn’t see anything, hear anything?”

“I’m sure,” I tell him, wishing I did know something, not because I’m a rat, but because I know what drugs can do to people. I know not everyone dies from using drugs, not everyone’s life goes to shit from using them, but my best roommate freshmen year of college overdosed and died, and that was only after she turned into a completely different person. Someone I didn’t like much. Someone I couldn’t trust. So, there’s no way I would ever protect anyone who is responsible for supplying those drugs, no matter how much I care about them.

“Would you be willing to get back in with Lane?” Officer Plymouth asks, bringing my attention to him. My heart flips in my chest at the thought, but I don’t get a chance to answer, because someone bangs hard on the glass mirror in front of me, causing my image to go funny.

The Sins That Bind Us (Book Review)

     I was lucky enough to get an ARC (Advance Readers Copy) of this book to review. Gevena Lee is one of my favorite authors, this book did not disappoint. I had a hard time putting it down to get my chores done. A few sentences were a little confusing, I had to re-read them to fully understand. However, that is my only complaint. 

     The story itself, was beautiful. I laughed and cried, I felt the characters joy and my heart broke for her. Personally some parts were a little tough to read because I have been through some horrible stuff myself. I haven't been a victim to addiction personally but I have been through rape. I have seen what addiction does to people and lost friends to addictive behaviors. 

     I liked it a lot, it was different than most romances where only one of them is broken. In this one both of them were broken and didn't want to change they other, they just wanted to to be there. There were a lot of issues touched in a very well done way.

Ugh

     I've had a rough few days as a mom and as an author. I found out some pretty embarrassing issues with my novel. I thanked the wrong person in the acknowledgments, i forgot to number the pages and 'monsters' was spelled wrong on the COVER! That's on the author side of things.
     On the mom side of things, my daughter has become pretty aggressive with her cousins. Separating her from them when she's aggressive works for a little bit, but soon she forgets why she was separated in the first place and starts all over again. But on the bright side she's been eating healthier foods with little fuss, YAY :D . That's all i have to report for now thanks for reading :D

sneak peak from Geneva Lee

Chapter One

        Some times life changes in an instant. The shift so violently unexpected that it sucks the breath from your lungs. But more often life changes subtly—a series of tiny tremors one barely feels. A person falls out of love as gradually, and obliviously, as she fell in love in the first place. The perfect job or the bright future never quite materializes. The collapse of the what might have been isn't abrupt or tragic. It’s just unavoidable.

        That's why I find myself here, in a church basement, once a week.

        I stir a bit of crappy, powder creamer into even crappier, old coffee. It’s only characterizing flavor is burnt. Maybe no one cares how it tastes. Or maybe everyone here is so used to bitterness that they prefer it that way. I take a cup out of habit. It’s something warm to hold. I can sip it during the long, uncomfortable pauses or the awkward moments in a stranger’s story. It’s a prop, but I cling to it like a security blanket.

        Clutching the styrofoam cup, I turn and hit a wall. No, not a wall—a him. Thin, hot liquid sloshes over the rim and he narrowly avoids ruining his shirt, moving with the precision of a man who knows how to avoid being burned. Time slows as it splatters to the floor. I’m already considering how to mop up the mess, but when I glance up to apologize, my gaze travels along the muscular torso that his black t-shirt doesn’t try to hide. Tattoos trail down his bicep, and I imagine that they extend up his shoulder to the chiseled chest that’s visible through the thin cotton. I reach his face, and I freeze.

        His eyes don’t match the rest of him—soft and warm, occupying the space between brown and green. They are a direct contrast with the sharp lines of his body and the jaw he’s hidden under a rugged beard that’s as dark as his messy, black hair. As he stares at me, his eyes harden into scornful gems.

        “Sorry.” I step back to allow him to pass, looking around for a napkin.

        “It was an accident.” His voice is as cool as his eyes have become. “It happens.”

        But not to him. I can hear it in his words. Maybe it’s a lifetime of experiencing the exact opposite—of being the one gifted with bad luck and poor decision making skills—but his attitude scrapes along my nerves. I bristle, forgetting the napkin and spilled coffee. “No need to be an asshole about it.”

        His eyebrow arches, disappearing under a fallen lock of hair. “I thought I was being pretty polite given that you nearly dropped a cup of boiling coffee down my pants.” He leans closer and I catch a whiff of soap and the lightest hint of clove. “A man has to have his priorities.”

        He’s one of those—a guy constantly drawing attention to his dick as though it’s a public treasure. Arrogant. That is to say, he’s a man.

        I focus on the anger bubbling in my chest and ignore that my body has come to the same conclusion. I pretend I can’t feel the gentle pull of his presence, rejecting the leap of my heart as a fantasy of pressing my body to his flashes through my mind.

        I walk away without another word, leaving him and the mess behind me. He’s as responsible for it as I am and he could use a little accountability by my estimation.

        It’s not because I don’t trust myself.

        I take a seat, gambling that Stephanie, our group’s over-eager leader, won’t sit next to me. Four doze metallic legs scrape across the poured concrete as everyone joins. Stephanie takes the seat next to mine. A cup of coffee isn’t going to be enough to hide behind, but today her eyes are on our newcomer: Mr. Arrogant.

        I can’t blame her. Mine were until I heard him speak. I can’t see if he’s softened again or if our near miss has permanently affected his mood. I shouldn’t care. It pisses me off that I’m curious. Men that snap over things like spilled coffee are on the top of my list of ones to avoid.

        Stephanie manages to collect herself before any drool escapes. But she fluffs her bottle blonde hair as she stands and leads us through a pointless mantra about acceptance and forgiveness.

        I direct my attention to the words. I’ve said them a million times. I’ve screamed them into my pillow. I’ve whispered them like an incantation. They never becomes real. For a long time I believed saying them chipped away at the boulder of self-recrimination resting on my shoulders. Now I know that I grew strong enough to carry the weight. Unforgiven sins don’t diminish, after all. You can’t magic them away with well-meaning words, because forgiveness is granted not taken.

        “Does anyone want to share?” Stephanie prompts. Her request drips with sugar, and I instantly miss Ian, our former leader, who never had time for bullshit. He’d taken that philosophy global and retired to sail the coast. I still hadn’t warmed to his replacement.

        I shrink back so she won’t pick on me. Sharing is supposed to be voluntary. There’s always someone desperate to spew their failures or proclaim their accomplishments, but when there isn’t someone gets put on the spot until the meeting starts to flow. It’s not that I want to sit here and stare at a circle of familiar strangers. I don’t want to be the first to go. Not today.

        “Perhaps…” Stephanie trails away but her gaze is pinned on Mr. Arrogant. I actually feel embarrassed for her. It’s beyond obvious that she’s screwing him in her mind. It couldn’t be more clear if she had stood up and drawn a pornographic cartoon on the church basement’s chalkboard.

        “Jude,” he answers the unspoken question.

        Jesus Christ. Jude. I hope he has a motorcycle. Then he can officially be our new town rebel. His eyes flicker to mine as if he can hear what I’m thinking. They’re soft again, but he doesn’t keep his gaze on me. An icy shiver shoots up my spine and spreads its chilly tendrils across my scalp as my heart pounds erratically against my rib cage.

        I hope then that he speaks. I want him to share his story so that I can understand the strange effect he has on me. Even now surrounded by a dozen other people, the connection between us is palpable—a tangible thread winding from him to me. I haven’t felt this way since…well, never. Not for a man.

        Certainly, not for a stranger.

        Even as he turns away and addresses the group, it's still there, binding us to each other.

        He stuffs his hands in his pockets and smirks.  “Like I said, I’m Jude. Um, do you want my resume? A list of my transgressions?”

        A few others chuckle. Every newcomer falls victim to the classic “I’m Nancy. I’m an addict" trope they've been sold in movies. Reality is a bit messier than that. Some people show up and start spilling their guts as if the rest of us have a secret we can share to fix everything. Others sit and fume. They’re the ones who are here because their wife or husband or the court demanded it. The worst are the ones that come with all the answers already. You can’t help them. Then there are the ones that listen. The ones that wait.

        I have no idea which one Jude is, but I know what he’s not. He's not a gut spiller, and I strongly doubt he's got someone waiting at home for him. If I had to bet, I’d guess he was here on court order. It would explain the attitude. And maybe there’s a part of me that wants the whole package—tattoos, arrogance, legal trouble. No woman wants to admit that she never grew out of her bad boy phase.

        I can't even remember mine. That’s why I’m here.

        “No need.” Stephanie flutters her lashes, and I realize I’m not the only one who hasn’t grown out of that phase. “If you’d like to share what brings you here, feel free. This is a safe space.”

        She draws a circle in the air, and I smash my lips together to prevent a laugh from escaping just as Jude bites his own lip.

        Well, that’s one thing we have in common. We both see the absurdity of our situation, and yet, we’re both here.

        It’s probably the only thing you have in common, I remind myself.

        He tilts his head a bit. “If you don’t mind, I’ll just listen for now.”

        I didn’t expect that. The thread connecting me to him tugs and I glance up to find he’s staring at me. He doesn’t look away this time. His eyes pierce me, seeing past the careful image I’ve constructed for myself. This time I turn away, for the sake of survival.

        A woman begins to speak—Anne, I realize— and he directs his attention to her. Her husband is gone. It was bound to happen. She’s not surprised. Even as she calmly relays this news, my own thoughts drift inward. I'd come today to share my own breakthrough. I no longer want to, because the few moments I’ve shared with Jude—a complete stranger—undermines it. The years I’d spent atoning, the sacrifices I made—all of it shattered when he looked at me and revealed the truth. My world is as fragile as glass, pretty lies blown carefully into a delicate bubble to cover up the ugliness in my past. The ugliness in me.

I know now that he is the devil, and he’s come to collect on my sins.

        Very little filters through for the rest of the meeting. Someone screwed up. It’s his first meeting, but his arrival is overshadowed by Mr. Arrogant. Today is Charlie’s recovery anniversary. He’s made it five months. I smile and clap along with everyone else but I’m aware of the nerves hollowing a pit in my stomach.

        My mind stays on Jude and the mystery he’s brought to this monotonous hour of my life. I’ve attended this NA meeting for four years, and I've watched people come and go. At first my heart hurt for each new story. I don’t suffer from that anymore. I keep my eyes on my own paper, so I can focus on keeping myself straight.

        Not that there's much temptation in this sleepy, little town. That’s exactly why I wound up in Port Townsend. There’s drugs and booze here, just like anywhere. But here I have the sea and the tiny, insulated world I’ve created for myself. This meeting taught me exactly what I needed to survive: the less people I let in, the less chance I’ll be hurt again. I stopped letting these wounded, wild creatures into my thoughts years ago. It keeps me safe, so what is it about him that is so tempting?

        Whatever it is—whatever this connection is between us—I need to pinpoint it and cut it out of me. Men like Jude are dangerous. Not because of their tattoos or swagger, but because they see boundary lines as optional. I can’t let the walls I’ve built can’t be breached.

        I dump the remains of my coffee in the wastebasket. I never even took a sip. I’d just allowed it to grow cold in my hands.

        “What do you think of Jude?” Sondra is my age, but looks old enough to be my mother. After years of abusing prescription meds she moved on to the hard stuff, leaving her with wrinkles carved as deeply as the coke lines she had snorted. She’s a walking anti-drug poster.

        I shrug, but I don't have to try hard to convince her I’m uninterested. She’s too busy plotting her plan of attack. I admire her blunt sexuality, even though I don’t pretend to share it.

        She unwraps a stick of gum and folds it into her mouth. “Maybe I can take him out for a drink. He’s new to town, for sure. I’d remember seeing him around.”

        "A drink?” I repeat pointedly.

        “Coffee.” She waves off my concern.

        “That would be nice of you.” I’m not ready to admit to my own interest, but if Sondra gets him to go out she’ll ferret out every last detail. I make a mental note to ask her about him next week.

        “I have to go. My…” I begin, but my excuse is unnecessary, she’s already moved on to give Charlie an overly affectionate hug. The celebratory gesture paints a swath of pink from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

        That’s not my gig. I don’y offer hugs or grasp hands. I come, I sit, and I try not to make eye contact when I see these people outside these concrete walls. I give an hour of my time. Nothing more.

        With Sondra distracted, I seize my chance and dart for the coat closet. The weather has been fickle as it shifts into spring, but I can always count on the breeze off the ocean being a bit too cold. As I round the corridor, I stop in my tracks

        Anne is sobbing. The collected business woman who relayed the news of her separation is anything but apathetic. She’s just as broken as the rest of us.

        Guilt sweeps over me. This isn't how she wants to be seen. It’s why we come here after all—to perfect the lie that we’re fine. Lies like that take practice before they’re displayed for the world to believe, and this group is a captive audience. She doesn’t want me to see her like this, just like she doesn’t want me—or any of us—to know the truth. Her divorce wasn’t inevitable. It wasn’t mutual.

        It’s another casualty of the war she’s fighting against herself.

        I shuffle backwards with plans to retrieve my coat on Sunday after morning services. Then Jude steps from the shadows, his towering figure already familiar, and joins her.

        He isn't new to these meetings. He went through the motions like the rest of us. He said the right things and nodded sympathetically at the appropriate moments. He’d even known to listen—a skill only a seasoned veteran acquires.

        Still here he is approaching a woman who has her guard down to offer comfort. I thought he was the devil-a test of my strength= before, but now I know he can't be. The devil doesn’t offer solace, even when he lies. But an angel is too much to hope for, and I’d stopped believing in them long ago.

        But a man—flesh and blood and all the complications that come with—is the most dangerous possibility of all.

        I can't hear what he says to her as she nods her trembling head. His hand rests on her upper shoulder and I can almost feel the comforting weight of it on my own.

        The fantasy jerks me back to the present and I leave without my coat. Without another word.

        Without looking back.