She’s so young, so full of life…
I couldn’t let her die…
Even if she made the world’s worst coffee.
Emily Garret never asked to be rescued, let alone by a walking JCrew ad whose idea of fun is probably managing his stock portfolio and watching the nightly news. Then again, she never thought she would wind upside-down in a ditch after a night having a little too much fun.
Reece Montgomery never planned on being anyone’s hero, especially the foul-mouthed, bleach-blonde barista from the local coffee shop. He thinks there’s more to Emily than her tattoos, and lip ring, but getting close means letting her into his past and meeting his ghosts.
And he’s not sure she’s ready for that battlefield.
★ ★ ★ ★ ☆
Emily may be a strong woman who looks like she doesn’t care what people think on the outside, but on the inside she’s a little lost. While her friends have found their loves and paths in life, Emily is stuck with one night stands and a dead-end barista job. She’s completely happy with her lifestyle until one drunken hookup leads to almost losing her life.
Reece is barely keeping himself together after suffering the loss of his friend and fellow soldier. He may have a teaching job, a place to live and an amazing motorcycle, but he’s constantly on the brink of his next anxiety attack.
After Reece saves the barista from his local coffee shop from a fiery car crash, he can’t stop thinking about her. Even though he’s never really talked to Emily, he feels a connection with her. As he gets to know Emily, he realizes she’s rough around the edges, but she gets him in a way no one else has.
Seared on My Soul started out a little rough for me. It’s told in dual point of view and starts with Emily’s perspective. That first chapter just didn’t pull me in like I hoped it would. I can’t put my finger on what exactly I didn’t care for, but there was just something a little off-putting about Emily’s point of view in that initial introduction. I didn’t think I was going to like her character at all.
Luckily, it was just that first chapter that I didn’t connect with because the I really enjoyed the rest of the book! I immediately felt a connection with Reece’s character. He was a war veteran dealing with the loss of his friend. He felt responsible and was dealing with PTSD symptoms. He was fighting so hard to make it through each day. It was actually the way Emily connected with Reece that helped me connect with her.
Emily was a very mixed up character. Her brash personality helped hide her insecurities. It made her appear stronger than she really was. Emily used alcohol to numb her pain and it was slowly consuming her. But even though she had her own issues, she easily identified Reece’s and was able to give him the safety he needed. Emily was actually a very sweet person once you got past what she was trying to portray to everyone.
Emily and Reece were pretty darn perfect together. They heated up the sheets spectacularly, but more importantly, they were a support system for each other. Their relationship had bumps along the way, but those bumps lead them to better themselves and grow a stronger connection to each other.
Seared on My Sole was a great romance filled with friendship, love and healing.
**I received this book from IndieSage PR via NetGalley in exchange for an unbiased review.
My world becomes nothing but pain. Every breath is a mixture of blood, smoke, and gasoline.
From far away, I hear sirens and muf ed voices that can’t quite penetrate the darkness I’ve fallen into. Blood, tasting of copper, trickles down my throat. A searing ache, like barbed wire, rips into every inch of my body.
Am I dying?
Terror coils around my gut and I ail in the darkness inside my mind, desperate for anything to hold onto, an object to keep me grounded so I won’t fall away. My ngers brush against something soft and I grab hold, twisting the fabric into my st.
It doesn’t take me long to realize the fabric is attached to something—or rather someone—because seconds later a pair of muscular arms snake around my shoulders and press
me against an equally rm chest. It doesn’t make sense. I haven’t been held this way since
Daddy died nearly a decade ago. “Can you hear me?” The unfamiliar voice sounds
distant, echoing inside my head like a cavern. I try to answer, but my throat is tight and blood coats my
tongue. Instead, I hold tighter, pressing my knotted ngers against his chest. His warmth bleeds into my skin, loosening the fear twisted around my ribs just enough for me to breathe— only it comes as a gasp. “I don’t want to die.” The words are a surprise, but I realize they’re the truest words I’ve ever spoken.
Unconsciousness tugs at me with velvety ngers, pulling me deeper inside myself. I clutch the fabric in my hands, suddenly terri ed that if I’m pulled away, I might not be able to nd my way back.
The darkness presses against me, smashing me beneath a wall of endless satin. My ngers lose their grip on the man’s shirt, and I can feel myself slipping. Fear rises inside my throat, a jagged lump I can barely breathe around. “Don’t,” I manage to choke. My voice sounds far away—almost as if it were coming from outside my body. Or maybe I’m the one outside my body.
The thought sends an icy wave of terror crashing over me.
“Don’t what?” the man asks, sounding farther away than before. Even so, the panic in his voice is unmistakable.
The darkness grows heavier, and I am too weak to ght. Even my fear ebbs under the crushing weight of exhaustion. It takes all my remaining strength, but I manage to breathe life into the words tangled on my tongue before
unconsciousness consumes me.
“Don’t let me go.”
ABOUT COLE GIBSEN
At seventeen Cole found herself homeless with only a beat-up Volkswagen Jetta and a bag of Goodwill clothing to her name. The only things that got her through the nights she spent parked in truck stops and cornfields were the stacks of books she checked out from the library along with her trusty flashlight. Because of the reprieve these books gave her from her troubles, Cole vowed to become a writer so she could provide the same escape to readers who needed a break the reality of their own lives.