by Fields, MJ
RECKLESS ABANDON
A heart-wrenching breakup, an accident, and…a loss.
Every time Emma Paige stretches out her right hand,
she is reminded of all the dreams that faded into
one awful weekend.
But, when Emma and her sister, Leah, embark on a trip to Capri, Italy, a near drowning leaves them deserted in a foreign country. When a stranger offers to help, the sisters follow him to his luxury yacht where Emma faces her greatest challenge yet.
His name is Asher.
Over the course of three days, Emma and Asher enter into an intense, complex, and emotionally-extracting relationship. But, when Emma learns of Asher’s real identity, she finds herself betrayed and stranded by the only man she was ever able to open her heart to.
A chance meeting in New York, a romance communicated through music, and a choice greater than any love she’s ever known, Emma learns of Asher’s demons and is left to wonder…
Is he here to save her, or is he the one who needs saving?
The Abandon Collection
Pure Abandon
RECKLESS ABANDON
WILD ABANDON
WILD ABANDON CHRISTMAS
SINFUL ABANDON
TRUE ABANDON (Fall 2017)
Listen to the audiobook Leah and Adam did in Wrecked!
Listen to the audiobook Leah and Adam did in Wrecked!
GRAVITY
By Lauren Runow
Is now available on Audible!
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Acknowledgments
In 2016, I was asked to write a novella. My husband came up with the idea of telling Leah and Adam’s story. He loved Leah in Reckless Abandon and thought she’d make a great heroine. I jumped on the idea! Problem was, once I started their story, I couldn’t stop! I shelved the novella to turn it into a full-length novel. Thank you, Bryan, for convincing me that Leah and Adam’s story needed to be told.
Over the past three years, I have met an incredible group of women whom I have learned to trust as my alpha and beta readers. Thank you Giovanna Bovenzi Cruz, Laurie Breitspreicher, Stefanie Pace, Kelli Mummert, Grey Ditto, Robin Rene Hill, Wilmari Carrasquillo Delgado, and Jennifer Ristic for your advice, passion, and friendship. And, a special shout-out to Chelsea Holder for your honesty.
Lauren Runow is my true alpha, the first to read my words and the other half of my indie brain. Thank you for letting me steal the words from Gravity to help Leah and Adam find each other.
I don’t know what I’d do without Sarah Hansen of Okay Creations and her beautiful covers or Jovana Shirley and her exquisite editing and interior design. I am also overjoyed to add Virginia Tesi Carey and her proofreading skills to my Abandon family.
A special thanks to Emily Smith Kidman for her guidance, and Give Me Books for their promotion. To my A Secret Affair girls for their safe-space to just me and to Autumn Hull for always being there when I need a question answered.
An indie author is no one without the support of blogs. Thank you to every blog who read, reviewed, shared, or commented on Wrecked! A special shout-out to Collector of Book Boyfriends, Sisterhood of the Traveling Book Boyfriends, Maryse, Black, Summers Eve Reads, Naomi’s Reading Palace, True Story Book Blog, Sweet and Spicy Reads, Schmexy Girl Book Blog, Once Upon an Alpha, FMR Book Grind, Shelly’s Book Corner, Andrea’s Book Corner, and Tasty Wordgasms for going the extra mile.
I would be a nobody if it wasn’t for my Roses. Every review, share, recommendation, and like means the world to me. Thank you to the JCol’s Army of Roses for being the best group I could have asked for.
Love to my best friends—Nicole Lancellotti, Tara McCormick, and Nicole Parsons—who have shown this gal what girl power really means.
To Art and Michelle Worden for their tremendous encouragement and love. Thank you, Art, for telling me where to bury the body and how to cuff criminals to walls. You wanted me to write a book called The Sarge. Instead, you’re getting Wrecked. Michelle, I am so happy to have dragged you over to the dark side of contemporary romance.
To my sister, who is always an inspiration, and my mom, who is my greatest support system.
To Jennifer Windstein, the original “Crazy Bitch.” I love your wild ways and the purple whore. This one’s for you.
And to my three tiny loves, who have to share their time with mommy with her books! I love you!
Oh, and to Matthew McConaughey for being so damn amazing!
About the Author
Jeannine Colette is the author of the Abandon Collection—a series of stand-alone novels featuring dynamic heroines who have to abandon their reality in order to discover themselves…and love along the way. Each book features a new couple, an exciting new city, and a rose of a different color.
A graduate of Wagner College and the New York Film Academy, Jeannine went on to become a Segment Producer for television shows on CBS and NBC. She left the television industry to focus on her children and pursue a full-time writing career.
She lives in New York with her husband, the three tiny people she adores more than life itself, and a rescue pup named Wrigley.
Jeannine and her family are active supporters of The March of Dimes and Strivright The Auditory-Oral School of New York.
www.jeanninecolette.com
Both Of Me
By Amber Kelly
Dedication
To my “&” girls.
The world would be a dull place without your love, laughter, and friendship.
This book is for you.
Prologue
Gabby — Four Years Old
I am getting all dressed up like a princess.
Papa and Mamma are expecting company for dinner tonight, so Nonna has dressed me in my prettiest dress. It is purple, and it has yellow butterflies on the front. Purple is my favorite color.
I twirl and twirl until I’m dizzy.
“Hold still, so I can finish your hair, Gabriella,” Nonna scolds.
She helps me get my shoes on as she explains that the Scutari family just moved two estates down from us. Mr. Scutari is in the same business as Papa. He and his three boys—Emilio, Atelo, and Christoff—as well as their grandparents are coming to meet us all tonight, and Papa wants me and my brothers to be on our very best behavior. She holds my hand and leads me downstairs.
“There is my bambina.” Papa reaches out for me, and he picks me up and spins me around as I laugh with glee. He turns, and I see a group of people huddled in the foyer.
“Say hello to our new friends, Gabriella. This is Papa’s friend Mr. Scutari and his boys and their grandparents.”
“Hi.” I wave shyly and lay my head on Papa’s shoulder.
They all say hello in return, and Papa shows us into the dining room where Mamma and Nonna are placing food in the center of the table. My tummy growls loudly, and everyone laughs.
“My baby girl is always hungry.” Papa smiles down at me as he places me in my seat between Nicco and one of his friend’s sons.
I sneak a peek up at the stranger. He has long, dark hair that falls into his face. His eyes are dark green, and when he smiles down at me, he has a dimple in his cheek, just like Nicco.
“Hey, I’m Christoff.”
“Where is your mamma, Crisscross?” I ask.
“No, Chris-toff,” he repeats.
I wrinkle my nose. That’s what I said.
I mimic him, “Criss-cross.”
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He laughs, and so does Nicco.
“Gabriella, he said Christoff, not Crisscross. Crisscross would be a silly name.”
“I didn’t say Crisscross. I said, Criss-Cross,” I state in aggravation.
“You just said it again.”
“I did not.”
Nicco is always mean to me, and he always tries to embarrass me.
“It’s okay,” Christoff whispers to me. “You can call me Crisscross if you want to.”
“I don’t want to call you that. People will laugh at me. I want to call you Crisscross.”
Nicco laughs out loud again, and I don’t understand what is so funny.
“It can be a thing just between you and me, okay?” he says. “I’ll call you”—he scratches his head—“Gabby. You call me”—he stops, and his forehead crinkles like he is thinking—“Cross. What do you think?”
I look up into his green eyes, and I smile.
“Nicknames just for us?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I smile big at him. He is so nice. I think we will be the bestest friends ever.
Cross’s papa tells us that his mamma was in an accident, and she is with Jesus and the angels now. His mamma’s parents came to live with them afterward to help. I look up at Cross, and when his papa talks about the angels, his lips quiver. He is sad. I would be sad, too, if my mamma went to live with the angels and did not come visit me. I will have to love him extra hard for her, so he is not sad anymore.
After dinner, the adults have yucky coffee while we all enjoy dessert that Cross’s grandmother, Una, made. Then, they excuse themselves. Nicco looks to Cross and asks if he wants to ride bikes, and I ask if I can come, too.
“No, you can’t even ride your bike without training wheels.” He rolls his eyes.
I start to get upset because I want to go with them. I don’t want to stay while the older boys play video games and the grown-ups talk in the study.
Why can’t I go?
“Tell you what, Miss Gabby.” Cross bends down and looks me in the eye. “Next time I come over, I will help you learn how to ride without training wheels. Then, you can always go with us. Deal?”
“Okay,” I say through my tears.
He wraps one of my curls in his finger and tugs. “Don’t cry. We will have lots of time to spend together now that we live just down the street. I promise.”
“Cross your heart?”
“Cross my heart.” He slashes his fingers over his heart and winks at me as he follows Nicco out the back door.
I think he might be my prince, just like Cinderella. Prince Cross.
One
Brie — Present
As I step off the plane into the hustle and bustle of LAX Airport, anxiety kicks in. This is real. I’m doing this. I left everything and everyone behind to begin again three thousand miles away from home.
I follow the horde of rushing travelers through the packed airport and into a surprisingly empty restroom. I look in the mirror at the weary face staring back at me. My chestnut eyes are slightly bloodshot, and my long, dark locks are a tangled mess from sleeping over half the flight from JFK. I splash some cool water on my face and run my fingers through my unruly hair. I pinch my cheeks and add a quick swipe of gloss across my lips. I take one last moment to gather myself. It’s as ready as I am going to get.
I give myself a pep talk as I walk down to baggage claim to collect my luggage. “You can do this. You are Brie Masters. You are a single girl from the big city, here to experience life outside of your hometown bubble while finishing your degree.” I work hard to convince myself as I grab my bags from the belt and head out into the warm California sun.
I take a deep breath to calm myself. Calm is something I haven’t felt in a very long time. I’m not exactly sure what Los Angeles has to offer a broken soul like me, but it has to be better than what I walked away from. It just has to be. Starting over is not something I thought I would be doing at twenty-two years old, but here I am. I have lived a thousand lifetimes in those twenty-two years, and I have cried over the past long enough. Time to chase—and hopefully catch—a few new dreams. So, I gather myself and walk into my future.
* * *
“Jeez, Brie, how did you manage to pack your life into two suitcases? I don’t think I have ever known a girl to travel on vacation this light, much less move across the country.”
With an emphasis on the name I now choose to be called, my cousin, Daniel, ribs me as he lifts all the belongings I cared to carry with me into this new adventure into the bed of his pickup truck.
“I told you, I’m taking this moving-on thing very seriously. New everything. New name. New home. New friends. Even new clothes.”
So far, I’m happy with my decision to move west and reconnect with my cousin. We were great friends when we were children—before his parents divorced, and he moved to Cali with his dad, Matthew Taylor. Uncle Matt had done well for himself as the premier Dentist to the Stars. I assume well-maintained teeth are a fairly lucrative commodity in Hollywood. Every single face aspiring to be on stage, screen, or print has to have them after all.
Daniel and I kept in touch through the years as much as possible. Sending each other birthday cards every year and placing the occasional telephone call when we were younger and seeing each other when he came to visit his mom, my mother’s older sister, in the summers. Once we were old enough for social media accounts though, it was like he had never left. That is the thing about sites like Instagram and Twitter; you feel like you are actively participating in the lives of people you haven’t set your eyes on in ten or more years. It is the best and the worst thing about social media. Disconnected connection.
It felt good to be in the same space as him now. He has grown into a handsome man, tall and broad-shouldered, like his dad. His dark hair is a little wild, and he still has the scar that runs through his left eyebrow from when he fell from the tire swing in my backyard when we were about six years old. He is sporting a five-o’clock shadow; actually, it looks more like a seven-o’clock shadow at this point. And, of course, he has a smile that could blind you, courtesy of his dad. He is all grown up and an aspiring musician, still living at home in his dad’s pool house in Beverly Hills while he lives his dream. He is a talented guitar player and singer-songwriter. I just know he is going to be famous one day. I wanted freedom and a fresh start, but I longed for a familiar face that wasn’t vetted to the past in a way that it would keep popping up on me. Daniel is that face.
“You have certainly come to the right place. A lot of miles between here and New York. They are two completely different worlds, but don’t worry; I am sure you are going to fit right in. Dawn and Kelsey have already gotten your room ready, and they are excited to officially meet you.”
Dawn Martin is Daniel’s current girlfriend and his stepsister, Kelsey Green’s, best friend and roommate. Uncle Matt married Kelsey’s mom when Daniel and Kelsey were already temperamental teenagers, so their relationship was strained from the beginning. Her mom was a former dental client and a wilting flower of an actress who had found fame in the early nineties, playing the sexy villain on a popular network soap opera. Daniel didn’t take too well to the two female drama queens coming into and taking over his and his dad’s easy bachelor lives. However, once he started dating his new sister’s best friend, much to her chagrin, they were forced into a tentative truce. According to Daniel though, they grew on each other and settled into a love/hate, familial relationship.
The girls’ former roommate, Tonya, just vacated her room and moved out on her own. That left them with a room for rent and hopefully room in their inner circle for me. I could use some friends.
Daniel told me all about the two—the good, bad, and ugly—and I feel like I already know them. My favorite part about them is the ugly. I know that sounds insane, but maybe my ugly won’t seem so bad next to theirs. I guess we all carry a bit of it with us, but I’m here to try to shed mine for good.
We
pull up to a gorgeous stucco building in Santa Monica about thirty minutes later. It is a well-maintained place with a quaint courtyard and gated parking. It is close to the beach and the Third Street Promenade and definitely something I would never have been able to afford on my own, but with my savings and the money Una tucked into my hand as I left, I should, hopefully, be able to cover one-third of the cost until I can find a decent-paying job.
Enrolling in classes is my first order of business though. I graduated high school a few months early and then took time off to spend a couple of years in Paris with my mom’s younger sister, Aunt Mitzi. It was a glorious time in my life. Paris is a dream, and Aunt Mitzi is one of my favorite people on the planet. She took a heartbroken teen in and showed her a whole new world full of culture, food, fashion, and excitement that only Paris could provide.
I started taking classes at NYU the semester following my return to New York, but a little more than a year in was when everything in my life went sideways. Looking back, I probably should have stayed in France and gone to university. I loved it there, but something—or better yet, someone—kept calling me back home. Him. No, he is not allowed here. No thoughts of him in my new life.
Daniel parks the truck and hops out. I gather my purse and phone and open the door. A wonderful aroma of salt and sea envelops me, and I instantly love it here. Fresh air. Fresh start.
“Apartment number is three-B, and the girls are waiting for you. Go on up and say hi, and I’ll grab your things and be up in a minute,” Daniel instructs me as he types away on his phone.