Resurrection by Evelyn Montgomery
Series: The Salvation Duet #1
Publication date: May 29th, 2020
Synopsis (according to Goodreads):
Rose
My husband is gone and all that remains are his clothes, his shoes, our memories.
The bathroom is filled with his shaver, his toothbrush, his hair brush--but the last thing he left behind was a folded flag that now sits in the living room.
My children will never know their father.
I will never know how it feels to grow old with him.
All that I have left are the voices.
The voices that haunt me day and night and never leave me alone. The ones telling me I'd be better off six feet under instead of him.
But they stop when he comes along.
Justin Gatz.
My boss.
My new best friend, and a savior I never expected.
Justin
I left Knoxville for a reason.
I promised myself I'd never get close to anyone ever again.
All I do is ruin, damage, destroy everything I touch.
But she sees me. Through me. To the place I don't let anyone into.
She sucks me in and I suddenly find myself playing house with her and her two kids wondering how the hell I got here and when I am finally going to stop.
All I do is ruin.
I know all too well her demons, having served my country like her late husband and still concealing secrets of my own.
I watch her fall apart. I watch her wrestle with her mind. I see her struggle and know I have to help, if only for a while.
Rose Gables.
I can't get enough of her.
She might need a savior, but what she doesn't know is she is the one doing all the saving and I'm a damn fool to think I can ever walk away.
Awakening by Evelyn Montgomery
Series: The Salvation Duet #2
Publication date: June 19th, 2020
Synopsis (according to Goodreads):
Justin
A dark past.
A secret identity.
A future ruined by the one thing I can never control.
My curse.
I swore to protect them.
I promised to always stand by her side.
But how can I do that when all I have ever run from comes crashing back into my life and steals away all the hope I had for a future.
I swore to protect them, and I will.
I will do all I have to do to keep them safe.
Always.
Even if in the end, it is over my dead body.
Rose
Fear.
Regret.
Voices I fear I will never overcome.
The final battle for my soul rages inside and I am suddenly paralyzed from stopping it.
But I finally see the light.
The truth.
Find my strength.
The enemy doesn't stand a chance when the victim finally chooses to survive.
When I finally learn it has no power over me.
My will is stronger now with him by my side.
Always has been. Always will be.
Forever.
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"Salvation" Excerpt
Justin
"Men will do anything when they have it bad enough. Might be too late for that little boy in there." I say, trying to change the subject, but she sees right through me.
"Where did you go just then," she asks, as she swirls the red liquid around in her wine glass. Startled, I stare back at her blankly before she continues. "You know," she says, coming a little closer to me and rounding the counter.
"Sometimes, when you look at me, I swear you can see right through me." Her confession startled me, because hell if I haven't thought the same damn thing. She sets her wine glass down, and nerves take over me as she picks up my empty hand in her own. She rotates it around for a moment before glancing back up into my eyes. "It's like, I don't even have to speak because..."
"You already know what I am thinking." I finish for her. Her sad eyes smile at me and fuck if it doesn't kill me knowing that I need this connection between us more than I have ever needed anything in my life. Turning slightly, I set my beer down on the counter before pulling her closer and grasping both her hands in my own. She doesn't look at me, and a part of me doesn't blame her, but I need to see into her eyes. I need to know that this connection is real, that I am not just imagining things.
"Rose," I whisper, but she doesn't respond. "Rose, look at me." When she does, she has tears in her eyes. She blinks, and they fall over and splash against her skin. I take my thumbs and brush them away lightly. Just as I am about to drop my hands, her own come up to grab them and hold them steady against her face.
"I'm going to regret this, I know it," I whisper between us.
She smiles, reading me and knowing what I am thinking just as much as I can read her. "Not as much as I will." She cries slightly, as she slowly closes the distance between us.
I watch her eyes as she pulls me in. Time pauses as her face, her lips, her body comes closer until I can't take anymore. I forcibly run my hands to the back of her head and pull her into me quickly. She lets out a gasp as our lips hover against one another, moments away from touching, and I hope her soft mouth against my own. She stills, and something about this moment feels too perfect. Something about the feeling of her body against my own tells me I will never get the chance to feel the way I do when I am with her, with anyone else.
My hands drop to her waist as I pull her tighter against me. She moans slightly, her arousal taking over as our bodies brush up against one another. Tenderly, her lips inch closer and part, but our eyes stay open and I stare into her soul as my tongue brushes against her own for the first time. I watch as her eyelashes flutter when the sensation becomes too much. I know the way she is feeling because fuck, I feel the same as her addictive kiss steals my breath away and makes it hard to ever need anything again in my whole fucking life the way I need her.
As the sensation becomes too much, our eyes close on instinct as our kiss deepens. Our embrace now hungry, passionate, needy with an urgency to feel more of what only we can give each other. She fists my shirt in her hands and pulls me closer. I stand and grab her tightly around the waist, pushing her and making her walk backwards into the living room.
Reaching the couch, I hoist her up in my arms effortlessly and she wraps her legs around my waist before I lay her out beneath me. She purrs quietly as I lay on top of her and raises her hips to grind against my hardening length. I grab her long brown hair in my fist, making her turn her head to the side, and she lets out a moan as my lips meet her skin. Gently, I plant kisses across her neck, over her collarbone and start to make my way down her chest.
"Justin," I hear her whisper above me as my hands come up to grab her breasts and mold them in my large palms. But I don't answer, and I know she knows I won't. I can't. I am too lost in the beauty, the allure, the delicacy that is her. She raises her hips as my free hand runs up the inside of her leg before my fingers lightly brush against her center. She lets out a whimper and all that does is make me fucking harder. I groan as I take the top of her cleavage in my mouth and suck hard like my life depended on it. Like she is the last chance I'll ever get at tasting heaven, and I intend to enjoy every last fucking drop. Just like I want to do to other parts of her body, but won't out of fear of pushing her too far.
Her hands fall to my jeans, and my heart rate quickens as she fumbles with the button before she successfully has me free and I feel her small hand as she begins to stroke me through my boxers. God, we can't be doing this. Not now. Not ever. But she is too damn perfect, and I know I will never get this chance again, so fuck my conscious I am taking what I want. What I need. And I pray I don't break us, ruin whatever this is in the process.
"Damn," I hiss out in approval as her fingertips circle my tip. She knows she has me almost at the point of no return and the thrill it gives us both is a high I never want to live without as long as I love. "God that feels so good," I whisper, as I attempt to free her from her leggings and do the same to her body. I need to feel, touch, caress, taste, and right now there is too much in my way. But the way she touches me feels too damn good and I stop as the sensation it gives me reaches new heights and I look at her and watch as she seductively stares back at me. She grabs my length and strokes it in her hand, moving up and down my shaft and taking all my self-control with her. My head falls back as I get lost in the feeling. The growing need to have her, keep her, and never let us go.
"Fuck, Rosie, you have no clue what that does to me." I groan just before her movements stop. I wait for them to continue. I hold my breath and pray for this moment to never stop. When she doesn't begin again after a moment, I look down and see regret in her eyes and know I put it there.
Backing away, she sits up quickly and starts to cry softly. I try to console her, but she puts her hands up and stops me.
"Rosie, I..."
"Rose!" She angrily responds. "Only Michael called me Rosie." She pushes off the couch and shit if what she didn't just say stabbed me in my selfish heart. My insides sink as I button up my jeans, stand, and make my way over to her in the corner of the living room.
"Men will do anything when they have it bad enough. Might be too late for that little boy in there." I say, trying to change the subject, but she sees right through me.
"Where did you go just then," she asks, as she swirls the red liquid around in her wine glass. Startled, I stare back at her blankly before she continues. "You know," she says, coming a little closer to me and rounding the counter.
"Sometimes, when you look at me, I swear you can see right through me." Her confession startled me, because hell if I haven't thought the same damn thing. She sets her wine glass down, and nerves take over me as she picks up my empty hand in her own. She rotates it around for a moment before glancing back up into my eyes. "It's like, I don't even have to speak because..."
"You already know what I am thinking." I finish for her. Her sad eyes smile at me and fuck if it doesn't kill me knowing that I need this connection between us more than I have ever needed anything in my life. Turning slightly, I set my beer down on the counter before pulling her closer and grasping both her hands in my own. She doesn't look at me, and a part of me doesn't blame her, but I need to see into her eyes. I need to know that this connection is real, that I am not just imagining things.
"Rose," I whisper, but she doesn't respond. "Rose, look at me." When she does, she has tears in her eyes. She blinks, and they fall over and splash against her skin. I take my thumbs and brush them away lightly. Just as I am about to drop my hands, her own come up to grab them and hold them steady against her face.
"I'm going to regret this, I know it," I whisper between us.
She smiles, reading me and knowing what I am thinking just as much as I can read her. "Not as much as I will." She cries slightly, as she slowly closes the distance between us.
I watch her eyes as she pulls me in. Time pauses as her face, her lips, her body comes closer until I can't take anymore. I forcibly run my hands to the back of her head and pull her into me quickly. She lets out a gasp as our lips hover against one another, moments away from touching, and I hope her soft mouth against my own. She stills, and something about this moment feels too perfect. Something about the feeling of her body against my own tells me I will never get the chance to feel the way I do when I am with her, with anyone else.
My hands drop to her waist as I pull her tighter against me. She moans slightly, her arousal taking over as our bodies brush up against one another. Tenderly, her lips inch closer and part, but our eyes stay open and I stare into her soul as my tongue brushes against her own for the first time. I watch as her eyelashes flutter when the sensation becomes too much. I know the way she is feeling because fuck, I feel the same as her addictive kiss steals my breath away and makes it hard to ever need anything again in my whole fucking life the way I need her.
As the sensation becomes too much, our eyes close on instinct as our kiss deepens. Our embrace now hungry, passionate, needy with an urgency to feel more of what only we can give each other. She fists my shirt in her hands and pulls me closer. I stand and grab her tightly around the waist, pushing her and making her walk backwards into the living room.
Reaching the couch, I hoist her up in my arms effortlessly and she wraps her legs around my waist before I lay her out beneath me. She purrs quietly as I lay on top of her and raises her hips to grind against my hardening length. I grab her long brown hair in my fist, making her turn her head to the side, and she lets out a moan as my lips meet her skin. Gently, I plant kisses across her neck, over her collarbone and start to make my way down her chest.
"Justin," I hear her whisper above me as my hands come up to grab her breasts and mold them in my large palms. But I don't answer, and I know she knows I won't. I can't. I am too lost in the beauty, the allure, the delicacy that is her. She raises her hips as my free hand runs up the inside of her leg before my fingers lightly brush against her center. She lets out a whimper and all that does is make me fucking harder. I groan as I take the top of her cleavage in my mouth and suck hard like my life depended on it. Like she is the last chance I'll ever get at tasting heaven, and I intend to enjoy every last fucking drop. Just like I want to do to other parts of her body, but won't out of fear of pushing her too far.
Her hands fall to my jeans, and my heart rate quickens as she fumbles with the button before she successfully has me free and I feel her small hand as she begins to stroke me through my boxers. God, we can't be doing this. Not now. Not ever. But she is too damn perfect, and I know I will never get this chance again, so fuck my conscious I am taking what I want. What I need. And I pray I don't break us, ruin whatever this is in the process.
"Damn," I hiss out in approval as her fingertips circle my tip. She knows she has me almost at the point of no return and the thrill it gives us both is a high I never want to live without as long as I love. "God that feels so good," I whisper, as I attempt to free her from her leggings and do the same to her body. I need to feel, touch, caress, taste, and right now there is too much in my way. But the way she touches me feels too damn good and I stop as the sensation it gives me reaches new heights and I look at her and watch as she seductively stares back at me. She grabs my length and strokes it in her hand, moving up and down my shaft and taking all my self-control with her. My head falls back as I get lost in the feeling. The growing need to have her, keep her, and never let us go.
"Fuck, Rosie, you have no clue what that does to me." I groan just before her movements stop. I wait for them to continue. I hold my breath and pray for this moment to never stop. When she doesn't begin again after a moment, I look down and see regret in her eyes and know I put it there.
Backing away, she sits up quickly and starts to cry softly. I try to console her, but she puts her hands up and stops me.
"Rosie, I..."
"Rose!" She angrily responds. "Only Michael called me Rosie." She pushes off the couch and shit if what she didn't just say stabbed me in my selfish heart. My insides sink as I button up my jeans, stand, and make my way over to her in the corner of the living room.
About the Author:
From the beaches of California to the hollers in Central Kentucky, I always knew one thing I wanted out of life - I wanted to write!
Growing up on the West Coast, I started on that journey but didn't publish my first book until me and my family of 5 moved to Central Kentucky to start a new life.
Although I miss my old world in sunny California, I have found a new love for the south that I always knew existed and you can see throughout my novels.
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