Series: Fatal Truth #2
Publication date: January 28th, 2021
Synopsis:
Can love untangle a web of lies and expose the truth?
A loner with a mysterious childhood...
FBI agent Dolan Watts is no stranger to pain. From his childhood spent in foster care to his daily grind of hunting down hardened criminals, pain has been the one constant through the years. Confronted by a malicious new enemy who revels in mind games, Dolan begins to doubt his own perceptions.
A woman haunted by a secret...
Psychologist Daughter Dawson sabotages her own safety the moment she accepts Dolan as a client. Still, she feels compelled to help him. Dolan's past mirrors many of the questions about her own. When she makes the mistake of confiding in him, both their lives are thrust into unimaginable danger.
Find out why people are up all night reading bestselling author Abbie Roads' chilling, emotional novels. You might want to read with the lights on and box of tissues.
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Excerpt
November
Hope was like rocket fuel. A volatile thing. It was the fuel driving him to find her. Now, thirty-five islands later, he was running on fumes. Exhaustion was a three-hundred-pound dumbbell he lugged around. He didn't have much left in him, but it was that damned hope that kept his hand on the tiller of the small boat and kept his eyes open, scanning the water for the island.
It was almost dawn, and Dolan couldn't remember the last time he'd slept for more than a few hours at a stretch. He'd turned island hopping into an extreme sport. Time was not his friend. Winter was coming to the Northern Great Lakes region, and now there was an early blizzard in the forecast.
Cold air nipped at his face and burned in his lungs. The temperature was below freezing and going to plummet over the next twelve hours. That was how much time he had to find her, save her, and get them back to the port of Edelweiss. Twelve hours when he'd already spent so many hours without her. That was if she was even on the island. He'd been disappointed thirty-five times; there was no reason to believe this time would be any different.
He squinted through the snow, searching for land, then checked his coordinates. He was close. Close enough that anyone could hear his boat. And if she was there, he couldn't afford to give Fleming a heads-up. He cut the engine.
For a moment, the quiet gave him a sense of peace. The water was still, and snow drifted from the sky in fat, beautiful flakes. The calm before a tornado tore a path of destruction through his heart and soul.
He grabbed the oars in his gloved hands and began the chore of rowing toward shore.
Pull. Lift. Down.
The rhythm of the work was mindless, and he lost himself in thoughts of what could've been.
Pull. Lift. Down.
They would've had walks in the park, movies, lazy mornings lounging in bed together. They would've had the time to explore each other's bodies, known more than each other's minds, known each other's souls.
Pull. Lift. Down.
He would've loved her family and cherished any time he spent with them. Her family could've become his family. He could've had a mom and a dad and a little sister too. The mere thought of being part of a family caused his lonely little-boy heart to ache with longing.
Pull. Lift. Down.
And Christmas, he sighed as he rowed. He would've gotten her a ring. A ring as glorious as she was. She would've said yes, and they would've planned a wedding, then their lives.
Pull. Lift. Down.
Children. There would've been children. Until her, he'd never had the desire for kids. More than anything, he wanted a little-girl version of Daught to love. He never had a dad, but he'd make it his life's purpose to be the best dad possible.
Pull. Lift. Down.
Since he never had a family and hers had been murdered, they'd create their own. A large one, full of boys and girls and laughter and happy chaos. He wanted that with her more than he wanted his next breath.
Pull. Lift. Down.
The muscles in his shoulders burned. His cheeks stung from the tears that froze to them. Because yes, all that was a dream. A beautiful dream that had no place in reality. He might very well be rowing his way toward her dead body. Or he might never find her.
Pull. Lift. Down.
He pulled harder. Lifted faster. Tried to outrun the terrible thought of losing her for good.
"Pull. Lift. Down." He whispered to the dawn as he carried out the actions. "Pull. Lift. Down."
The bottom of the boat scraped the shore. He slumped in the seat and dropped the oars, his breath coming in ragged pants that sounded suspiciously like sobs. Underneath his heavy coat, his skin was slicked with sweat, and he was afraid to move. Would he find her? Her body? Or nothing at all?
Seven Things about Abbie Roads:
1. She loves Snicker Parfaits. Gotta start with what's most important, right?
2. She writes dark emotional books featuring damaged characters, but always gives her hero and heroine a happy ending... after torturing them for three hundred pages.
3. By day she's a mental health counselor known for her blunt, honest style of therapy. At night she burns up the keyboard. Well... Burn might be too strong a word. She at least sits with her hands poised over the keyboard, waiting for inspiration to strike. And when it does--the keyboard might get a little warm.
4. She can't stand it when people drive slowly in the passing lane. Just saying. That's major annoying. Right?
5. She loves taking pictures of things she thinks are pretty.
6. She lives in Marion, Ohio with her favorite fellow and two fur babies.
7. Being a published author is a dream come true for her.
