As a big fan of both Jennifer L. Armentrout, and of the Wait For You series, I am so honored and excited to share the first chapter of the highly anticipated romance, Fire In You. Coming November 28th, this moving second chance love story will consume you, as Jillian and Brock’s story unravels.
β¦ Pre-order Now: Amazon | iBooks | Barnes & NobleΒ β¦
Together with my blogger sisters Natasha from Natasha Is A Book Junkie and Maryse from Maryse’s Book Blog, you’ll be able to get a taste of what awaits, one chapter at a time. So read below and then head on over to these two blogs to keep reading! Ohhhhβand don’t forget to pre-order the novel (digital or paperback) so that you can get an exclusive bonus scene featuring all the major couples throughout the Wait For You series!
β¦ FILL OUT THIS FORM AFTER YOU PRE-ORDERΒ β¦
Synopsis
From the # 1 New York Times and International bestselling author, Jennifer L. Armentrout writing as J. Lynn, comes a richly moving story about heartbreak and guilt, second chances and hope. Full of familiar, fan-favorite characters and no two people more deserving of a happy ending, Fire In You will burn bright beyond the last pageβ¦
Jillian Limaβs whole world was destroyed in a span of a few hours. The same night her childhood love, Brock βthe Beastβ Mitchell, broke her heart, her life was irrevocably altered by the hand of a stranger with a gun. Β It takes six years to slowly glue together the shattered pieces of her life, but Jillian is finally ready to stop existing in a past full of pain and regret. She takes a job at her fatherβs martial arts Academy and sheβs going out on her first date since a failed relationship that was more yuck than yum. Jillian is determined to start living.
She just never expected Brock to be a part of her life again. But heβs firmly back in her life before she knows it, and not only is he older, heβs impossibly more handsome, more teasing and more everything. And when he sees Jillian, heβs no longer capable of thinking of her as the little girl who was his shadow growing up or the daughter of the man who gave him a second chance at life. He sees the woman whoβd always been there for him, the one person who believed in him no matter what.
Brock knows sheβs the one he shouldβve made his, and what begins as a tentative friendship quickly turns to red-hot chemistry that sparks a flame that burns brighter than lust. Falling for Brock again risks more than her heart, because when the past sorrow-filled and guilt-ridden past resurfaces, and a web of lies threatens to rip them apart, the fallout could lay waste to everything theyβve fought to build together, and destroy the dreams of those they care most about.
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βI survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me.β
βJoshua Graham (Fallout)
Chapter 1
I was going to kill Avery Hamilton.
Sweaty palms gripped the steering wheel as I told myself I needed to get out of the car. It was way past time, but I knew Iβd rather walk barefoot across broken, heated glass than go into that restaurant.
Sounded excessive even to me.
But all I wanted to do was go home, change into a pair of leggings that were probably not suitable for public viewing, curl up on the couch with a bowl of sour cream and cheddar potato chips (the ruffled kind) and read. I was currently going through this weird stage where I was devouring historical romances written in the eighties, and I was about to start a Johanna Lindsey viking romance. There was a lot of bodice ripping and alpha men on steroids awaiting me. I loved it.
But then, Avery would kill me if I bailed on tonight.
Well, okay. She wouldnβt kill me, because who would babysit Ava and little Alex so she and Cam could have a date night? Tonight was a rarity. Camβs parents were in town, so they were watching the babies, and I was here, sitting in my car, staring at one of the Japanese maple trees that lined the parking lot and looked like it was seconds from toppling over.
βUgh,β I groaned, tipping my head back against the seat.
If I was doing this any other day, it wouldnβt be so bad, but this had been my last day at Richards and Decker. Thereβd been so many people in and out of my tiny office. Balloons. An ice cream cake that I may have had twoβ¦or three slices of. I was all peopled out.
Leaving my job of five years had been weird. Iβd convinced myself for so long that Iβd loved it there. I went to work, closed my door and, for the most part, was left alone while I processed insurance claims. It was a quiet, simple job I could lose myself in, and I had no risk of ever bringing it home with me at the end of the day. It paid for the two-bedroom apartment and covered the loan on my Honda. It was a quiet, boring, and harmless job to go along with a quiet, boring, and harmless life.
Then my father had finally, literally, made an offer Iβd be an idiot to walk away from, and that offer had unlocked something inside me, something Iβd long since thought was dead.
The desire to start really living again.
Yeah, that sounded cheesy to even think it, but it was the truth. For the last six years, Iβd existed from one day to the next. Not looking forward to anything. Not doing any of the things I used to dream about.
Taking the offer my father made was the first stepβthe biggest stepβin finally moving forward with my life, but I still couldnβt believe I was doing it.
My parents hatedβ¦they hated how things had turned out for me. They had all these dreams and hopes. I had those sameβ
A tap on my car window startled me and I jumped. My knee cracked off the bottom of my steering wheel as I looked to my left.
Avery stood outside my car, her hair a fiery red in the fading evening sun. She wiggled her fingers at me.
Cringing because I felt foolish, I reached over and hit the button. The window slid down silently. βHey.β
She leaned over, resting her forearms on the door and all but stuck her head in the car, speaking directly to my left side. Avery was a few years older than me and had two kids, one of them less than a year ago, but with those freckles and warm brown eyes, she still managed to look like she was barely in her twenties. βSo, whatcha doing?β
I glanced from her to the windshield and then back again. βUm, I wasβ¦thinking.β
βUh-huh.β Avery smiled a little. βDo you think youβll be done doing that anytime soon?β
βI donβt know,β I murmured, feeling my cheeks heat.
βThe waitress just took our drink orders. I got you a Coke,β she offered. βNot diet. Iβm hoping youβll join us before we order appetizers, because Cam is talking soccer and you know how my attention span is when he starts talking soccer.β
The right corner of my mouth curved up a little. Cam had played pro soccer for several years. Now heβd moved onto coaching at Shepherd, which meant he got to be home way more often. βIβm sorry to leave you hanging like that. I wasnβt going to bail.β
βI didnβt think you would, but I figured you might need a little coaxing.β
Peeking up at her again, the small half-smile slipped from my face. Letting Avery talk me into this was also a part of the whole getting out there and living again thing, but this also wasnβt easy. βDoesβ¦does he know aboutβ¦?β I gestured at my face.
A soft look crept onto Averyβs face as she reached inside and patted my arm. I was back to gripping the steering wheel like a freak. She nodded. βCam hasnβt gone into detail, of course, because thatβs not our story to tell, but Grady knows enough.β
Meaning he wouldnβt have that βWTFβ expression on his face when he saw me.
Granted, he probably would still have that expression at some point. From a distance, there didnβt appear to be anything off about me. It was upon closer inspection that my face just didnβt add up.
And thatβs what I was dreading about tonight, what I dreaded whenever I met anyone for the first time. Some people just blurted it out, having absolutely no care if the question embarrassed or bothered me, or made me think of a night Iβd rather forget for a multitude of reasons. Even if they didnβt ask what happened to my face, they were thinking it, because I would think it too. Didnβt make them terrible people. It just made them people.
Theyβd stare, trying to figure out why my right jaw looked slightly different than my left jaw. Theyβd try to hide that they were looking, but theyβd keep glancing at my left cheek, guessing about what couldβve left such a deep notch just below my cheekbone. Then they would wonder if the deafness in my right ear had anything to do with what was going on with my face.
No one had to ask those questions, but I knew that was what they were thinking.
βHeβs a really great guy,β Avery continued, squeezing my arm gently. βHeβs super nice and very cute. Iβve told you how cute he is, right?β
Ducking my chin, I smiledβsmiled as best as I could, which always looked fake or like I was smirking. I couldnβt get the corner of the left side of my mouth to work right. βYes, youβve mentioned that a few times.β I sighed as I forced my hands off the steering wheel. βIβm sorry. Iβm ready.β
Avery stepped back as I hit the button, closing the window. Turning my car off, I grabbed my burnt-orange purse off the seat. I had a thing for purses. Truly the one thing I splurged on, and I could throw down some ridiculous money on a purse. As in, that autumn-themed Coach purse was by far not the most expensive one Iβd bought.
I stepped out into the cool, late September evening air, wishing Iβd worn something heavier than the thin black turtleneck, but the light sweater looked good with the black, knee-high boots, and I was actually trying tonight. You know, putting effort into how I looked, which meant I would hopefully put effort into this date.
βYou need to stop apologizing.β Avery looped her arm through my left one. βTrust me. Take it from someone who used to be a habitual apologizer of the secular order. You donβt need to apologize when you havenβt done anything wrong.β
I lifted my brows. I knew Avery had a pretty messed-up past. For the longest time, Iβd had no idea what had happened to her, but about five years ago, sheβd confided in me. Hearing what she had gone through, even though it was vastly different than what had happened to me, had helped. Especially seeing her moved on from such a traumatic event, happy and healthy, and in love.
Avery was the proof that scars, whether physical or emotional, could be not just a representation of survival but also a story of hope.
βYeah, but you guys have been waiting for me,β I said, reaching around my neck and gathering up the long strands of hair. I brought them around my left shoulder, so the thick curtain of hair fell forward. βIβm almost twenty-seven years old. You shouldnβt have to come get me out of my car.β
Avery laughed. βThere are times that Cam has to come get me out of the closet and pry a wine bottle from my fingers, so this is nothing.β
I laughed at the image those words created.
βIβm glad you agreed to come out tonight.β Avery slipped her arm free and opened the door. βI think youβll really like Grady.β
I hoped I did.
But I didnβt have the highest expectations, mainly because I had, well, not the best of luck when it came to the opposite sex. Iβd only been super interested in two guys. I didnβt even want to think about the first oneβabout himβbecause that was a pit of despair I was not going to fall back into. And there was this guy I dated three years ago, but Ben Campbell had treated me like he could deduct dating me from his taxes under charitable donations.
Other than that, I was sort of dateless and I truly believed my mom feared Iβd end up unmarried, childless, and alone for the rest of my life, living in my apartment with a dozen exotic birds.
βYou ready?β Avery asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I nodded, even though this wasnβt what I wanted to be doing. I lied, because sometimes lying was like surviving. You were doing it without even realizing it. βIβm ready.β
β¦ Head to Natasha Is A Book Junkie to read Chapter 2Β β¦
Series Reading Order
Each full-length novel can be read as a standalone.
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