~Synopsis~
She
was my nightmare. Every time I closed my eyes, I watched her fall into that
inferno. Over and over, I failed to save her.
I
hadn’t been able to reach her, and the guilt only burned hotter over time. Four
years later, I was the unreachable one.
Heroes
aren’t always saints. Sometimes, we’re nothing more than jaded sinners driven
by sleepless nights and hearts full of darkness.
And
then I met her. She was a dreamer who managed to soothe my scars and heal my
wounds.
But,
as the flames closed in around us, I feared I wasn’t the right man to save her.
That is until I realized she was the one woman I’d burn the world down to
protect.
~Buy links~
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2kfNgXh
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2kfyRdL
Nook: http://bit.ly/2kQyB5S
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2kC4kru
~Excerpt~
Chapter One
Jude
“Tomorrow, it’s on me,” I
said, standing up off the barstool.
Behind the bar, Carmen
waggled her eyebrows, seductively calling out, “Funny, I could be on you
tonight if you stayed awhile longer.”
I laughed at her innuendo
and tossed her a wink. “I gotta get home, babe. Seven a.m. comes way too
early.”
“Well, offer’s on the
table,” she purred.
It always was with her.
And, if I wasn’t careful, I’d eventually take her up on it.
Not that sleeping with
Carmen wouldn’t have been good. But, when you find a cheap bar only five
minutes from your house, you don’t fuck that up by dipping your cock into the
bartender.
“Later, Carmen,” I called,
pushing the door open and heading to my car.
I wasn’t out of the parking
lot before I heard, “Officer Levitt? We’ve got an alarm going off in Park Hill.
You mind taking a look on your way home?”
Banging my head back
against the headrest, I groaned to myself. Park Hill was about as “on my way
home” as swinging past California on the way to Maine.
Switching my radio to my
other hand, I complained, “I’m off the clock, Jocelyn.” I had been for several
hours, even if I hadn’t made it home yet.
She laughed. “I’m sorry,
but you’re the only one remotely close. I had to send two cars out to the
Laslows’ to break up another argument between Cam and his old man.”
“They at it again?” I
asked.
“Apparently, Cam told
Lindsey he didn’t want the baby. Lindsey told his dad. Old Man Laslow lost his
mind.”
I chuckled, putting my
blinker on and then doing a U-turn in the middle of the empty road. “Christ. I
bet he did. I know the man’s seventy-five, but I sure as hell wouldn’t want to
go toe-to-toe with him.”
“I’m with you on that.
So…you gonna head out to Park Hill?” she asked in a sugary-sweet tone.
I grumbled deep in my
chest. “You’re gonna owe me some of that banana bread for this. I missed it the
other day when you brought it up to the station.”
“I don’t owe you anything.”
She giggled. “However, as a personal thank-you from the state of Illinois, Park
County, and the owners of Park Hill, I’ll bring you in a loaf on Friday. Deal?”
“Deal. I’m en route now.”
“Stay safe, and radio in
with your report.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied,
knowing exactly how much thirty-year-old Jocelyn loved being called ma’am by a
twenty-five-year-old man.
“Don’t you—”
“Gotta go.” I turned the
volume down to mute her, grinning to myself as I flipped my lights and siren
on.
I’d been a cop for two
years. And, in that time, I’d been out to the privately owned Park Hill estate
at least a dozen times. It wasn’t unusual for the alarm on the mansion to get
triggered. It never amounted to anything. The expansive estate was on the very
edge of the county, and trouble didn’t usually travel that far out. More often
than not, a bird at a window or a bumbling new member of the grounds crew would
accidentally trip the alarm. Truth was, no one actually lived in Park Hill. The
owners visited sporadically. But, for the majority of the time, it remained
empty.
Some minutes later, I cut
my siren as I pulled up to the entrance. The cold air assaulted me as I stepped
out of my patrol car with my flashlight in hand and aimed at the keypad on the
massive security gate that blocked the driveway off. That damn thing alone had
to have cost more than I’d make in a lifetime. Forget about the house inside.
The smell of wood burning
in a fireplace wafted through the night air. I guessed someone was home for a
visit.
I typed in the emergency
code on the gate panel and then climbed back in my car and made my way down the
tree-lined driveway. I’d spent the day on patrol, and, with the exception of
some minor vandalism across town, it had been a slow one.
Though, in the blink of an
eye, that would change.
Along with my entire life.
“Oh fuck,” I breathed as
the main house came into view on the top of the hill.
After throwing my car in
park, I jumped on the radio at my shoulder. I could barely get the words out as
I slung my door open and took off at a dead sprint.
“This is Officer Levitt! I
need fire support at Park Hill immediately!”
And then I froze as a wave
of adrenaline crashed into me like a tsunami.
An inferno roared in the
night sky, but it was the small silhouette of a woman perched outside a
third-floor window, smoke pouring out all around her, that knocked the breath
out of me. My heart stopped, but my feet continued to pound against the
pavement.
Jocelyn’s voice caught me.
“What’s going on?”
“I need medical too!” I
barked as I got closer. “The whole damn place is in flames and there’s a woman
trapped!”
The woman’s long, black
hair blew out behind her like a battered flag whipping in a storm. I couldn’t
make out her face or her skin color or even guess at her age for the black soot
covering her, but her fear was unmistakable.
And unforgettable.
“Hang on!” I yelled up to
her.
“Oh my God!” she screamed
before it turned into a fit of coughing. “Help me!”
“Hang on! Don’t let go!”
Frantically, I searched the
perimeter for a way in, but it wasn’t only her house that was on fire. Flames
were encompassing her. The yard and all the surrounding flowerbeds. Top to
bottom. The first and second floors were completely engulfed, and if the sound
of shattering windows was any indication, it was quickly making its way up to
the third floor—to her.
“No! Don’t leave me!” she screamed,
panic thick in her garbled voice, as I started around the side of the house.
A wall of heat stopped me
in my tracks. Throwing an arm up, I did my best to block my face while scanning
the building for any possible entry—or, in her case, exit.
But there wasn’t a surface
of that house that wasn’t ablaze.
Except the roof.
Son of a bitch.
I spoke into the radio. “I
need an ETA on fire.”
Jocelyn replied, “They’re
on their way. Five minutes out.”
I didn’t have one minute,
much less five.
Fuck.
My pulse quickened, sending
blood thundering in my ears. I was a cop. I’d trained for chaos. I should have
been able to come up with a solution for a situation like this, but they didn’t
teach you how to conquer the impossible at the Academy.
And, as I took inventory of
the flames dancing beneath her, I knew that was exactly what I was up against.
My gut wrenched as I
helplessly sped back around the house. She appeared almost childlike, hovering
barefoot on that narrow brick ledge, but her long-sleeve top and her
loose-fitting pants clung to the body of a woman.
Jesus Christ! Where was
that fucking fire truck?
“Is anyone else in the
house?” I yelled up to her.
Not that I could have
helped them, either. Short of running into a burning building, on what would surely
be a suicide mission, there was not one thing I could do. And didn’t that
little reality feel like a wrecking ball to the chest.
“No!” she cried, a loud sob
lodging in her throat. It turned into more coughing, her body shaking violently
with every heave.
I fisted my hands at my
sides as my anxiety spiraled higher.
“Please. Do something!” she
begged.
I ground my teeth together
and once again glanced around as if a water hose and a ladder were going to
suddenly appear out of nowhere. “Hang tight, okay? Fire trucks are on their
way.”
“I can’t hold on much
longer!” she cried.
“Yes, you can,” I demanded.
“I…I think I need to jump,”
she coughed out.
I assessed the massive fire
below her. I’d never be able to reach her before it swallowed her. But there
was no way I’d be able to stand by and watch her burn.
No. If she jumped off that
ledge, she was going to get us both killed.
“Don’t you dare,” I barked.
“Don’t even think about it. Two minutes. They’ll be here.”
“I…I can’t.”
“Two minutes,” I repeated.
“Hold—”
Suddenly, a window to her
left exploded, shooting glass and flames in all directions.
I covered my face as she
screamed in a paralyzing mixture of fear and agony. It cut me so deep that I
knew I’d bear the scars for the rest of my life, and that had nothing to do
with the glass and everything to do with the heavy weight of my failure already
lingering in the smoke-filled air.
When I opened my eyes
again, I caught a glimpse of orange flickering in the window behind her. Panic
built in my chest.
“You need to move!” I
yelled.
She shook her head and
continued to cough and cry.
But it wasn’t an option. I
couldn’t help her. Though I damn sure refused to watch her die.
“Please. Just listen to
me.” I swallowed hard. “You can’t stay there.” I looked to the roof.
Sending her higher seemed
wrong and went against everything I’d learned in my limited fire training. But
fuck, my options were having her jump into a conflagration or scale up the side
of a building in hopes of buying us the precious minutes needed for the fire
department to arrive.
Drawing in a smoke-filled
breath, I made a decision that would haunt me for the rest of my life. “You
need to climb up to the roof.”
“I can’t!” she shrieked.
My stomach twisted, but I
gentled my voice. “Look, I know you’re scared. But I’m right here. I’ll help
guide you up, but, sweetheart, it’s bearing down on you. You gotta move, and I
mean now.”
She choked on a mouthful of
smoke as she attempted to look over her shoulder.
“You’re going to be fine. I
swear to you,” I lied. “But you have to move.”
“I’m not going to make it!”
She had to have yelled it in order for me to hear her, but I felt her defeat
slither over my skin like a whispered goodbye.
I took a long step forward,
too focused on her to feel the heat singeing my skin. “Yes, you are!” I
declared. “Move your ass up to the roof and we’ll both be out of here in time
for breakfast.”
Her gaze landed on mine,
tears forging paths down her soot-covered cheeks, her disbelief obvious even
from yards away. “Are you sure?”
It was a ridiculous
question. It wasn’t like I could make any guarantees. It was fire, for God’s
sake. But that didn’t stop me from covering my heart with my palm and vowing,
“I swear on my life you’re going to make it through this.”
Her hesitation was evident,
but with one last sob, she inched her small body farther out onto the narrow
ledge, reaching the tips of her shaking fingers out for the windowsill above
her.
“Good girl,” I praised, a
fraction of relief washing over me.
And then I sucked in a
sharp breath as one of her shaking legs slipped out from under her.
“No!” I yelled.
On instinct, I rushed
toward the flames, my arms stretched out in the air as though I could catch
her.
A scalding heat blistered
my face and forced me to stop, but the real pain was in my chest. I watched in
horror for what felt like a lifetime as she fought to right herself, her dainty
arms flailing like a wounded butterfly frantically trying to catch the wind.
But there was none to be found.
My heart lurched into my
throat, and my breath seized in my lungs.
And then a deep, guttural
sound tore through me, shredding me from the inside out, as I watched her fall.
I woke up in a cold sweat. It wasn’t exactly something
new. I’d been dreaming of Butterfly for over four years. She always flew
directly into the flames, screaming as I stood helpless to save her.
Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I cradled my
head in my hands and tried to pretend I was okay. That wasn’t exactly something
new, either. I could still feel the heat on the back of my neck. My lungs were
still thick with smoke. The pressure in my chest never left me.
The distance while I was living in LA had helped. But, in
the week since I’d been back in Illinois, I’d woken up every morning at that
blazing house. I didn’t even have to be asleep for the memories to assault me.
I should have gone back to sleep. It was my first day at
my new job, and the last thing I needed was to show up haggard and
sleep-deprived. But, as I’d learned over the years, another fiery butterfly
awaited me on the other side of REM. No way I was volunteering for that.
I pushed myself off the bed and tugged a T-shirt on,
preparing to head down to the hotel gym with hopes that I could outrun the mental
fog that had been hovering over me since I’d returned. There was a reason I’d
thrown all of my shit in my car and driven as far as I could all those years
ago.
Yet, somehow, I’d come full circle.
But I’d come back a different man.
At least that’s what I’d told myself as the deafening roar
of doubt had overwhelmed me the moment I’d driven across the state line.
Regardless, it had been time to go home.
I’d been gone too long.
Or, as I’d decided as I’d passed the exit to Park County,
not nearly long enough.
~Review~
Singe is the type of book that will draw you in from the very
start and grabs a hold of your attention and keep you as it's hostage, all I
have to say is buckle up your seat belts you are in for one hell of a ride.
I started this book with the intentions of only read 50% of it then going to bed, guess what that never happen I couldn't put the book done because the suspect was so high and Aly Martinez knew the right words to put on paper so that she could capture our attention and never let it go. All I have to say is this is the second book that I've read by Aly and there's no going back for me after I've read Singe. This is a most read for EVERYONE!!!!
I started this book with the intentions of only read 50% of it then going to bed, guess what that never happen I couldn't put the book done because the suspect was so high and Aly Martinez knew the right words to put on paper so that she could capture our attention and never let it go. All I have to say is this is the second book that I've read by Aly and there's no going back for me after I've read Singe. This is a most read for EVERYONE!!!!
~About the Author~
Born
and raised in Savannah, Georgia, Aly Martinez is a stay-at-home mom to four
crazy kids under the age of five- including a set of twins. Currently living in
South Carolina, she passes what little free time she has reading anything and
everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a glass of wine at her
side.
~Social links~
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