Excerpt!
The asshole surfer pulled up to Talerco’s a goddamn hour and a half after the surf shop closed.
Unlike me, he entered a code on the keypad by the gate and the arms swung open. He pulled his truck through and turned it around in the driveway before stopping.
It was dark as shit, but I still stood in the shadows.
The passenger door opened and she got out. “Thanks for the rides. And dinner,” she added like she was embarrassed.
I couldn’t hear the prick’s response, but I wanted to kill him.
“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” She shut the door and headed toward the house.
The asshole surfer didn’t even wait to see if she got inside. The security gate was closing behind him before my woman had even made it to the front door.
Walking like shit hurt, she pulled a key out of her small-as-fuck shorts pocket and aimed for the lock.
I stepped out of the shadows. “You went to dinner with that asshole?”
Jumping a foot and shrieking, she dropped the keys and clutched at her chest. “What the hell, Tarquin? Don’t do that!”
“Do what?” I seethed. “Ask if you went on a fucking date?”
I couldn’t escape the hard sins of my past.
I couldn’t unsee the truths in my mistakes.
Every breath she took was a reminder of the pain I’d caused.
Growing up at the mercy of a madman, I swore I would never give anyone that kind of power over me again. But here I was, on my knees, begging for a life I lost.
Except no amount of forgiveness would bring it back.
I couldn’t unsee the truths in my mistakes.
Every breath she took was a reminder of the pain I’d caused.
Growing up at the mercy of a madman, I swore I would never give anyone that kind of power over me again. But here I was, on my knees, begging for a life I lost.
Except no amount of forgiveness would bring it back.
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Author bio:
Sybil Bartel grew up in Northern California with her head in a book and her feet in the sand. She dreamt of becoming a painter but the heady scent of libraries with their shelves full of books drew her into the world of storytelling. She loves the New Adult genre, but any story about a love so desperately wrong and impossibly beautiful makes her swoon.
Sybil now resides in Southern Florida and while she doesn’t get to read as much as she likes, she still buries her toes in the sand. If she isn’t writing or fighting to contain the banana plantation in her backyard, you can find her spending time with her handsomely tattooed husband, her brilliantly practical son and a mischievous miniature boxer…
But Seriously?
Here are ten things you probably really want to know about Sybil.
She grew up a faculty brat. She can swear like a sailor. She loves men in uniform. She hates being told what to do. She can do your taxes (but don’t ask). The Bird Market in Hong Kong freaks her out. Her favorite word is desperate…or dirty, or both—she can’t decide. She has a thing for muscle cars. But never reply on her for driving directions, ever. And she has a new book boyfriend every week—don’t tell her husband.
To find out more about Sybil Bartel, be sure to follow her on Twitter (she loves to hear about your favorite book boyfriend!), visit her website, like her on Facebook or join her Facebook group Book Boyfriend Heroes for exclusive excerpts and giveaways.
Giveaway!
love the excerpt
ReplyDeleteLove it! I can't wait to read this book.
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