Rachel
Blaufeld
Redemption
Lane
Release
Date: February 19th, 2015
Blurb:
Sometimes
the past bleeds into the future.
Bess,
a wild party girl running from herself, literally falls victim to her demons
when she collapses in the most unexpected of places.
Lane,
a tightly wound, up-and-coming CEO who can’t seem to stop enabling his brother,
doesn’t know what hit him when Bess falls at his feet and into his life.
It
was a night she doesn’t remember, and one he can’t forget.
But
rather than stay and help the needy college coed, Lane decides to teach his
brother a long overdue lesson––a decision that later comes back to haunt him
and only adds fury to the transgressions of his past he is already fleeing
from.
Years
later, Bess and Lane meet again. She doesn’t know him, and he doesn’t share
that he knows what happened on that ill-fated night when she almost died. After
all, he has a web of complicated lies from his own youth to protect.
Both
are seeking salvation in the arms of others and ignoring the truth—that the
only road to redemption lies in confronting your past.
When
the past and present collide, is there any chance at redemption?
Goodreads:
Giveaway:
About Author
Rachel Blaufeld is a social worker/entrepreneur/blogger turned author. Fearless about sharing her opinion, Rachel captured the ear of stay-at-home and working moms on her blog, BacknGrooveMom, chronicling her adventures in parenting tweens and inventing a product, often at the same time. She has also blogged for The Huffington Post, Modern Mom, and StartupNation.
Turning her focus on her sometimes wild-and-crazy creative side, it only took Rachel two decades to do exactly what she wanted to do—write a fiction novel. Now she spends way too many hours in local coffee shops plotting her ideas. Her tales may all come with a side of angst and naughtiness, but end lusciously.
Rachel lives around the corner from her childhood home in Pennsylvania with her family and two dogs. Her obsessions include running, coffee, icing-filled doughnuts, antiheroes, and mighty fine epilogues.
Website:
https://rachelblaufeld.com/
Blog: http://backngroovemom.com/
Blog: http://backngroovemom.com/
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/@rachelblaufeld
Quotes & Teasers
“Lane’s beard tickling the inside of my thigh
in all the right places.” – Bess
A
brand spanking new fantasy rolled through my head––visions of a lonely, yet
seductive waitress, dressed in navy slacks and a little matching vest, her long
hair spread down around her neck… - Lane
I
had no choice, so I spent the dinner perfecting Lane Wrigley, the overly involved
hotel business man, getting to know Bess Williams, the unimpressed, fragile,
mysteriously beautiful waitress… - Lane
Setting
my magic pills on the dresser, I stripped out of my smelly clothes from the
night before. As they fluttered to the floor, I watched their descent,
remembering my own extremely real downward spiral.
___________________________________________________________________
I
couldn’t be upset…the girl next to me was smoking hot. Intrigued, I took in her
long wavy brown hair that she was twisting into a messy bun, small tits in a
bright blue halter top, and tight hips and a round ass poured into tight black
yoga pants. The disappointing thing was she fucking stank, and my eyes began to
water from the stench wafting my way, like booze and stale sweat.
This
girl smelled like a bar after a long Saturday night.
Was
she drunk? Was she even legal?
___________________________________________________________________
“Excuse
me? Do you want a table,” I asked.
He
flipped the paper down, peering over the top of it, and his crystal-blue eyes
sharpened. A series of expressions flitted over his face, first hurt or
sadness, then morphing into what looked suspiciously like lust. In the end the
man continued to stand there, saying nothing and looking bewildered.
Weird.
Unnerved,
I stared back at him for much too long but his gaze mesmerized me, capturing my
body, mind, and soul in a way I wasn’t familiar with. It left me wanting to
stare forever.
What the eff, Bess?
Stare forever? Just seat the damn guy.
“Are
you ready to sit for breakfast,” I asked, using my professional tone as a
shield. I wasn’t on the menu, and definitely wasn’t one of the specials.
He
cleared his throat and said, “Yes. Table for one.” Then he added, “Please.”
“Right
this way.”
_______________________________________________________________
AJ:
“It
doesn’t have to be that way, Bess. You don’t have to be alone. You’re not
alone. You have friends…and me.”
His
eyes searched mine, begging me to understand the hidden meaning behind his
words. I didn’t really have friends. And
we were nothing more than sponsor and sponsee.
I
didn’t really have him. Or did I?
“AJ…”
I breathed out his name slowly, looking up but hesitating to meet his eyes.
________________________________________________________________
Licking
his lips, he ran his hand through his dark hair and leaned close once more. “As
for why I’m back here with you, I can’t really say. I only know I haven’t been
able to get you out of my head since our unbelievably boring dinner in the
tavern…or the coffee we shared in the back room the morning after.”
His
expression softened. “There’s just something about you, Bess. You’re sweeter
than the aroma of the blueberry muffin I devoured with you, prettier than the
sun setting over the ocean back home, and tangier than the lemons you squeeze
into your water. Something I can’t put my finger on pulls me in and makes me
want to be close to you, probably the same thing that makes you want to run.
Hell, it makes me want to flee so fucking fast, but I’m not. So…just don’t.”
___________________________________________________________________
My
orgasm tore through me like a five-alarm fire through a wooden cabin.
I
floated off to somewhere I didn’t recognize. It was an island of bliss, a place
where I’d never been on Molly or coke, a destination that a steady diet of
alcohol and pot would never transport me to. And I never wanted to leave.
Exhilarated,
I wanted nothing more than to pack my bags and permanently move to this unknown
zip code.
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