Release day 10/6
Synopsis:
Everything done in darkness, will
eventually be brought into the light.
I ran, but all it did was keep me one
step ahead of my past. I tried to start over; new name, new identity. But you
can't change your soul.
A fresh start at college was just what
I needed. For a while, it worked. I was the party girl, the one that seemed
confident, but it was a lie.
When guys kissed me--I felt only pain.
When they touched me--Nothing but fear.
Deep inside, every girl wants to be the
beauty in the story, to find someone that will see you as their world.
But the truth? I was the beast. And as
much as I wanted redemption, I wasn't fool enough to think I'd ever get it.
Until he walked into my life.
I wasn't prepared to fall for someone.
My scars were too deep, the wounds too raw. But he offered me peace, he offered
me security. I should have known it was just another lie--I should have known
that falling in love with my professor was a bad idea.
But I was powerless to stop myself from
falling.
And he was powerless to catch me.
Because the darkness finally caught up
to me, and as fate would have it, a cruel twist almost bled me dry. But I'm
stronger than I knew. I'm stronger than you think.
You think you know my story, but you
don't....after all everyone has Shame in their lives-- and I'm no longer afraid
to show you mine.
BUY LINKS
EXCERPTS
I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead
against hers. A shaky breath escaped her lips. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
“Are you trying to prepare me or ask
permission?” she whispered, her voice beckoning me like a siren’s call.
“Both.” My lips hovered near hers. “I
figure it’s only fair.”
“Fair?” She pulled back slightly. “How
so?”
“Ten thousand.” I angled my head and
watched the pulse jump on her neck. “That’s how many nerve endings, on average,
are in your lips. Consequently, when your body anticipates pleasure, the
build-up is the best part. Imagine, those ten thousand nerves are swelling,
allowing blood to surge through them in anticipation of… what?” I swept my
tongue across her lower lip and whispered, “Of being touched. I ask permission,
not because I’m being a gentleman. It’s actually the complete opposite. I ask
permission so your brain anticipates the pleasure before I’ve ever even touched
you.”
I tasted her lower lip again and
abruptly dipped my tongue into her mouth. Then just as quickly retreated. “The
human body is an instrument. Know how to master it… and well…” I let my voice
drop as I moved my hands slowly to her shoulders and tugged her body flush
against mine. Our mouths met softly at first. I deepened the kiss, memorizing
her taste, knowing I wouldn’t experience a kiss like this again in my lifetime.
The way her scent, her soft moans destroyed my body, wrecked me from the
deepest part of me, was nothing short of life-altering.
And I’d like to think I’d kissed a lot
of women.
I’d studied the psychology of
sexuality.
I was an expert in pleasure.
But she was schooling me, absolutely
wreaking havoc on every logical thought as her soft whimper cascaded over me.
Blood surged through my body as it tightened with awareness at her proximity.
She pulled back, her lips swollen.
“That was… not a good enough warning.”
Laughing softly, I cupped the back of
her head and gently drew it toward mine and kissed her again, angling my lips
differently, searching her, consuming her, drawing pleasure from her lips as if
it was my life goal to discover every single secret she owned.
Her arms wrapped around my neck. She
was shy; she didn’t push against me, didn’t wrap her legs around me or moan
into my mouth like I was having sex with her rather than kissing her.
My hands moved down her corset to her
hips, and I lifted her into the air and walked her backward toward the brick
wall. The whole time, our masks collided. In frustration, I ripped hers off,
then mine. The shadows of moonlight hid our faces as I kissed her harder,
losing myself in her.
Her nails dug at the back of my neck as
she jerked my head harder. Groaning, I let her fall to the ground as I placed
my hands on the brick wall to keep myself from ripping the dress from her body.
Shouting started from the ballroom.
“Ten, nine…!”
“Eight,” I whispered against her mouth.
“Seven.”
“Six.” She sighed, her breathing
labored as her tongue found mine again. “Five.”
“Four, three.” I pulled back and
trailed kisses down her neck.
“Two.”
We broke apart, both breathing heavy.
“One.”
People burst out onto the balcony as
the fireworks started, lighting up the sky. And our faces.
And the only thing I could say as she
gasped in horror was “Oh, shit.”
It was hard to explain the way he spoke to me; at times he
was flirtatious and well… happy. Other times? It seemed like he was fighting
another side of himself, one that was more reserved, uptight, controlled. And
if you were to ask me which side scared me the most? I’d say both. Because both
sides were dangerous to me — both pushed a person like me past the point of no
return. His seriousness made me curious; his flirtation made me want more.
“Just dinner?” I asked. “Isn’t that against the rules?”
“Yeah, well…” He glanced down briefly before flashing a
sensual smile, his eyes dilating. “…it seems to be an impulse I can’t really
control around you.”
“Control’s overrated, you label-making fool.”
At that he laughed, a rich chuckle that had my entire body
relaxing and heating at the same time. I took a step toward him and smiled.
“So, rule-breaker, where are we going?”
He grabbed his messenger bag and keys. “You’ll see.”
“Cryptic.” My eyebrows arched as I crossed my arms over my
chest. “This isn’t going to turn into one of those six o‘clock news things
where the crazy professor takes the girl out then buries her in the woods, is
it?” I tried to sound like I was joking, but the minute the words left my
mouth, it was no longer funny. Suddenly, I realized how stupid it would be to
go with him. I knew nothing about him, nothing at all!
He smiled, tilting his head toward me. “Why am I getting the
sudden urge to pull out a list of character references?”
“Because I just scared myself,” I admitted out loud.
“You want my social security number?” He winked. “Credit
score? First grade class photo? Oh, and by the way, in first grade I was
nominated most likely to own a pet store… so, if you aren’t okay with that, we
probably shouldn’t continue this.”
“This?”
“Dinner.”
“Because you liked pets?”
“I wanted to own a lizard farm.”
I covered my mouth with my hands and nodded solemnly. “All
little boys have dreams.”
“A bully crushed mine when he told me lizard farms don’t
exist.” He shook his head. “In second grade I was voted least likely to
succeed, on account that I didn’t speak for the entire year.”
“Why’s that?” I took another step toward him.
He took another step in my direction and shrugged. “It took
me a while to get over the lizards.”
“So you stopped speaking?”
“It was more of me trying to make the public aware of my
outrage.”
“Ah, like lizard strike.”
“I made shirts.”
“Tell me, professor, is that when the label-making started?”
“No.” He nodded toward the door and started walking. I
followed, genuinely interested in what he was going to say and hating that it
was possible he was stringing me along only to go all cold-crazy-psycho on me
again. “That was an entirely different situation.” He pulled the door open.
“What? No more stories?” I asked.
“Dinner.” He shrugged, his eyes a stormy gray. “I’ll tell
you at dinner.”
“Bribery.”
“My trump card. Label-maker stories. You know, I do actually
know how to romance a woman.”
“Well...” I cleared my throat and broke eye contact. “…since
I’m your student, I’ll just take your word for it.”
“Right,” he said quickly then repeated, “Right, shall we?”
“Lead the way.” I forced a smile and tried to remember that
this was dinner, nothing romantic, just my very sexy professor once again
apologizing for being a jackass during class.
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She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband and their snoring Boxer, Sir
Winston Churchill. She loves to hear from readers! You can follow her writing
journey at www.rachelvandykenauthor.com
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