COVER REVEAL:
Fighting Shadows
By Aly Martinez
Full Jacket/Cover
Fighting Shadows
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RELEASE DATE: July 7th
Blurb
I come from a family of
fighters. I always thought I’d follow in their shadows, becoming unstoppable in
the ring. That changed the day I saved the life of a woman I loved, but could
never have.
My brother hailed me as a hero, and my reward
was a wheelchair.
Paralyzed, my life became an inescapable
nightmare.
Until I met her.
Ash Mabie had a heart-stopping smile and a
laugh that numbed the rage and resentment brewing inside of me. She showed me
that even the darkest night still had stars, and it didn’t matter one bit that
you had to lie in the weeds to see them.
I was a jaded asshole who fell for a girl with
a knack for running away. I couldn’t even walk but I would have spent a
lifetime chasing her.
Now, I’m on the ropes during the toughest
battles of my life.
Fighting the shadows of our
past.
Fighting to reclaim my
future.
Fighting for her.
Fighting
Shadows Excerpt
Fighting Shadows
Prologue
Ash
“Where the fuck have you been?” a man’s voice growled as
soon as I entered the conference room.
My eyes flashed to his for only a single second before I
recognized them. The door had barely clicked behind me but I already wanted
nothing more than to bolt. My heart raced and my mouth dried.
I had to get out of there.
“Um…” I stalled, giving myself time to formulate a plan.
“Sit. Down,” he ordered, pushing out the chair next to
him, but there was no way I was getting that close.
“I’m good,” I said, taking a step backwards toward the
door.
“Don’t even think about it,” he snapped. “I swear to God,
if you so much as open that door…” His words may have trailed off, but the
threat was clearly stated.
I swallowed hard, and slowly walked to the chair farthest
away from him, perching on the very edge—waiting for just the right moment to
escape.
He looked down at the name badge around my neck and
quirked an eyebrow.
“Victoria?”
“You can call me Tori if it’s easier.” I tried to fake a
smile, but it only seemed to infuriate him. He took several calming breaths,
which did nothing to dampen the blaze brewing in his angry eyes.
“I’ve been looking for you, Ash.” He snarled my name.
“Oh, yeah? Well, mystery solved. Here I am.” I pushed back
to my feet, but was halted when his fist pounded against the table. I jumped as
my whole body flinched from the surprise.
When the room fell silent, I slowly looked back up to find
him staring at me with a murderous glare. Even sitting down I could tell he was
huge, and as he held my gaze, the tense muscles in his neck and shoulders
strained against the cotton of his grey Henley. He blinked at me for several
seconds before finding his voice again.
“You live in a homeless shelter,” he stated definitively,
as if the words told a story all of their own.
And maybe they did.
“I work at a
homeless shelter,” I quickly corrected.
Only he corrected me just as fast. “In exchange for a
permanent place to live…In. A. Homeless. Shelter.” He enunciated every single
syllable.
I looked away, because it was the truth.
A truth that I hated.
But the God’s honest truth nonetheless.
Tears welled in my eyes and I battled to keep them at bay.
My life was hard, but him being there made it infinitely
harder. If I could just escape that room, I could disappear again. It wasn’t
ideal, but neither was him showing up.
“I want you to
leave.” I lied with all the false courage I could muster.
“I can’t do that. You stole something of mine.”
“Look, I don’t have your book anymore.”
A knowing smirk lifted one side of his mouth. “Liar,” he
whispered, reaching into the chair beside him, revealing the tattered book and
ceremoniously dropping it on the table.
My eyes went wide, and without a conscious thought, I dove
across the table after it.
That was mine.
Not even he could have it.
Just as quickly as the book appeared, he snatched it away
and grabbed my wrist.
I slid off the table and tried to pull my arm from his
grasp. It was a worthless attempt though because even if he had suddenly
released me, his blue eyes held me frozen in place.
“Three fucking years,” he seethed.
“I had to,” I squeaked out as the tears streamed down my
cheeks.
“Three. Fucking. Years, Ash. You took something that
belonged to me.” He released my arm and pushed to his feet.
My mouth fell open and a loud gasp escaped as he took two impossible steps forward.
Pinning me against the wall with his hard body, he lifted
a hand to my throat and glided it up until his thumb stroked over my bottom
lip. Using my chin, he turned my head, and dragged his nose up my neck,
stopping at my ear.
Sucking in a deep breath, he released it on a gravelly
demand. “And I want her back.”
My breath hitched.
I’d waited years to hear those words.
If only I could have trusted them.
“Flint, please.”
Aly Martinez
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.
After
some encouragement from her friends, Aly decided to add “Author” to her
ever-growing list of job titles. Five books later, she shows no signs of
slowing. So grab a glass of Chardonnay, or a bottle if you’re hanging out with
Aly, and join her aboard the crazy train she calls life.
THANK YOU
Come and visit the neighbors of Harper's Cove. Every couple on the street is pretty sure they're the only ones doing something as kinky as they're doing, but the joke's on them!
Find out exactly what the neighbors of Harper’s Cove are up to when they go inside and close their doors. According to Gloria, the drunken busy-body of the cove, they’re all up to something perverse, and she’s determined to find out their secrets. As she sneaks, peeks, pokes, and prods, her long-suffering husband, Russell, begs her to leave all of their nice neighbors alone.
Welcome to Harper’s Cove! It’s a welcoming little place, after all, a street lined with beautiful homes, well-manicured lawns, and upscale vehicles in cobblestone driveways. It looks idyllic.
For as long as I can remember, I've been a writer . . .
