Seared on My Soulby Cole Gibsen Publication Date: June 27, 2016 Genres: New Adult, Entangled Embrace, Contemporary Romance
Synopsis: 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.
EXCERPT: Seared On My Soul by Cole Gibsen
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.”