4.5
-
1,237 ratings
A romantic suspense novel of a womanâs fatal allure and a soldierâs mission to protect herâfrom the New York Timesâbestselling author of Dark Water Rising.
Since her motherâs death, Ally Monroe spends her days cooking, cleaning, and caring for her father and two middle-aged brothers. Holding on to her dreams is the only way she will survive this lonely life in the mountains of West Virginia.
John Wesley Holden is a special-ops soldier stationed at Fort Benning, Georgia. Having served a horrific tour in Afghanistan, where he was captured as a prisoner of war, he now suffers from PTSD. His wife and son are his lifeline to finding happiness again. But when a suicide bomber attacks the base, killing his family, Wes loses his grip on reality. Feeling as if the enemy has followed him home, Wes walks away from his life, nearly catatonic.
Then he meets Ally . . . and begins to find his way back to life. But somethingâs not quite right in Blue Creek, West Virginia. Their neighbor is hiding a secret operation, and heâll stop at nothing to keep Wes and Ally out of itâand to take Ally for his own.
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ISBN-10
079530028X
ISBN-13
978-0795300288
Print length
182 pages
Language
English
Publisher
RosettaBooks
Publication date
October 24, 2022
Dimensions
6 x 1 x 9 inches
Item weight
10.2 ounces
ASIN :
B07H1844WF
File size :
2186 KB
Text-to-speech :
Enabled
Screen reader :
Supported
Enhanced typesetting :
Enabled
X-Ray :
Not Enabled
Word wise :
Enabled
Sharon Sala is a long-time member of the Romance Writers of America, as well as a member of Oklahoma RWA. In 2014, she published her one-hundredth novel. A fan favorite, Sala is an eight-time RITA finalist, winner of the Janet Dailey Award, four-time Career Achievement winner from RT Magazine, five-time winner of the National Readerâs Choice Award, and five-time winner of the Colorado Romance Writers Award of Excellence, as well as Booksellerâs Best Award. In 2011 she was named RWAâs recipient of the Nora Roberts Lifetime Achievement Award. Her novels have been on the top of major bestseller lists including the New York Times, USA Today, and Publishers Weekly. Sala also writes under the name Dinah McCall.
One
That inner part of a soldier that tells him when heâs being watched was going off big-time in Wes Holdenâs head. His face was hidden beneath a layer of menthol-scented shaving cream, which gave him a false sense of anonymity, yet, despite his disguise, theyâd found him again.
As he looked up, his eyes narrowed to slits, staring first at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror, then into the room behind him. When his gaze centered on the woman standing in the shadows, he stifled a groan.
He should have known.
It was Margie.
The fear on her face was palpable. He knew heâd caused it, but unless he changed what he did and ignored who he was, he didnât know how to help her. Heâd known her since childhood, had loved her since high schoolâand, for the last fifteen years, had called her his wife.
He started to acknowledge her presence but changed his mind. There was tension between them that had nothing to do with his most recent tour, which had sent him first to Afghanistan, in search of Osama bin Laden, then, after the president had declared war, into Iraq.
Like every soldierâs wife, Margie knew that he served his country at the risk of his own life. But this time it had been different. This time they were at war. Every day sheâd watched the news on CNN in silent desperation, partly hoping to see his face, partly praying, if the filming was in the midst of conflict, that he was nowhere around.
The day sheâd answered the door to find two army officers and an army chaplain standing on her doorstep, sheâd started to scream. It had taken valuable minutes of their visit to calm her down long enough to explain that her husband, Colonel John Wesley Holden, wasnât confirmed deadâonly missing.
Missing in action.
Three words that had almost brought sanity to an end.
The next month of her life had been a blur of fear and numbness. She admitted to Wes later that, if not for the presence of their son, Michael, she would have gone mad.
At that point Wes quit thinking about the weeks heâd spent as a POW, not certain he would ever see his family again, and shifted his focus from her face to his own.
There were still whiskers that had to come off before his meeting with a base psychiatrist at 0900 hours, and while the pace of life might be slow and easy in Georgia, it was a different story at Fort Benning.
Before he could resume shaving, he heard the sound of running feet. Moments later, he heard Margie cautioning their son not to run in the house; then Mikey burst into the bathroom, landing with a none-too-gentle flop on the closed lid of the commode.
âEasy, buddy,â Wes said. âYou almost missed the landing pad.â
Five-year-old Michael John Holden giggled, then shoved the hair out of his eyes as he gazed longingly at his father.
âDaddy?â
Wes pulled the razor through a patch of shaving cream and whiskers, twisting his chin to accommodate the blade.
âWhat?â
âSomeday will I have whiskers like you?â
Wes hid a grin as he sluiced the razor beneath a steady flow of hot water.
âYeah⊠someday, but not anytime soon. You have to grow up some more before you get whiskers.â
âIs it as long as Christmas?â Michael asked.
Pain wrapped itself around Wesâs heart as he looked down at the earnest expression on his little boyâs face.
âYeah, Mikey, itâs at least as long as Christmas.â
Satisfied with the answer, Michael settled back for his front-row seat for the ritual they shared, where Daddy shaved and Mikey watched, interspersing the moment with a constant barrage of comments and questions that soon had Wes laughing. Mikey was so enthralled with the process that Wes finally caved in, took the blade out of an extra razor, handed it to his son as he stood him up on the lid of the toilet seat, then put some shaving cream on Mikeyâs face.
âThis is just for practice, okay, son?â
âOkay,â Mikey said, then took the razor with all the ceremony due a first shave and peered at himself in the mirror. âLook, Daddy, Iâm âmost big as you.â
âYeah, buddy, you sure are,â Wes said gently, then watched his son scraping the shaving cream off his face with the empty razor, twisting his chin as Wes did, and grimacing with great Ă©lan. A few minutes later, he pronounced himself done and settled back down on the toilet seat with a wet washcloth to his face while Wes finished his own shave.
Wesâs thoughts wandered, trying to come to terms with the fact that when heâd left for Afghanistan, Michael had been barely four and his biggest interest was watching Bob the Builder. Now heâd come back to find him only months away from his sixth birthday and concerned about growing whiskers.
It was enough to stagger a normal man. For Wes, it enhanced his guilt about leaving his family, and reinforced his concern about the nightmares and flashbacks heâd been having.
Post-traumatic stress disorder.
PTSD.
A nice four-letter acronym for a bitch of a problem.
Fancy words for trying not to go crazy from the hell of war.
Heâd accepted the diagnosis with little emotion. It was his opinion that army doctors, like all doctors, preferred to categorize their patientsâ health issues. It was easier to treat them if their symptoms fell within certain parameters, so they gave everything a name. Wes would like to give the name back, but he had yet to figure out how to shake it.
It should have been simple.
They had rescued him, sent him home to heal, and one day soon, when he was pronounced ready on all counts, they would send him back to Iraq. But it wasnât simple. There were days when he wasnât sure he would ever be healed. For now, he would make love to his wife, watch his son grow, and take all of the fierceness of their loving with him when he went.
He was almost finished when a trash truck backfired on the street outside. Wesâs stomach lurched. His instinct for survival told him to duck and run, but reality surfaced. He could still see his sonâs face and smell the citrus scent of his own shampoo, which meant he was in a safe place.
Still, by the time he realized it was a false alarm, he had pulled the razor too close to his skin. When a tiny dribble of blood suddenly appeared on his neck, he cursed beneath his breath.
Mikey saw the blood and cried out in quick dismay.
âDaddy! Youâre blooding!â
Wes studied the tiny droplets. Considering where heâd been and what heâd seen, they were nothing, but he couldnât seem to break his gaze, or stop the memories of bloody bodies and lifeless eyes from flooding back into his mind. A knot began to form at the back of his throat as a cold sweat beaded across his forehead. He knew where he was. He could feel the cold tile against the bottoms of his bare feet, but he couldnât seem to pull away from the dark.
Then, suddenly, Mikeyâs hand was on his forearm.
âDonât cry, Daddy,â Mikey said. âI can fix it.â
He bolted out of the bathroom as Margie came back into the bedroom with a stack of freshly laundered towels. Ever cautious that sometimes her sonâs swift exits were because heâd done something wrong, she hurried into the bathroom where Wes was still standing.
âWhat happened?â she asked.
He swallowed the bile at the back of his throat and then took a deep breath, willing his voice not to shake.
âI just nicked myself,â he said, as he pressed a washcloth against the spot.
âLet me see,â Margie said, and moved his hand aside. âIt doesnât look bad,â she said. âI think I have something that will stop the bleeding in the medicine cabinet.â
Wes slid his arms around her waist and pulled her close before burying his face against the curve of her neck.
âYou have everything I need right here,â he murmured, then kissed the spot just below her right ear.
Margie moaned, then sighed, savoring the feel of him in her arms. Sheâd loved him forever, and having him homeâeven for a short timeâmade her whole again. But before anything went further than a kiss, Mikey was back.
âHold that thought,â Wes whispered as Margie grinned.
âI got it, Daddy. I got it!â Mikey cried.
Wes knelt down on one knee and put his arms around his boy.
âGot what, my little man?â
âA Band-Aid. Mommy puts âem on me when I get blood. This will be good, but you have to be still.â
Wes nodded and sat down on the side of the tub, wondering how Barney the purple dinosaur was going to blend with his uniform. Now they were face-to-face and only inches apart. Wes could see his own reflection in Mikeyâs eyes and was slightly surprised he looked no different. He would have thought it would be evident that he seemed to be coming undone.
âJust a minute, Daddy,â Mikey said as he peeled the wrapper from the small antiseptic bandage.
Wes looked at his son, taking strength from the tenderness of his little boyâs touch. The mint from Mikeyâs toothpaste was still strong on his breath, and there was a tiny bit of scab just visible on the curve of his chin that his pseudo-shave had not disturbed. His hair was thick and black, with a swirl in the crown just like Wesâs, and when he smiled, the gap left from his missing tooth was too heart-wrenching for Wes to take.
He took a slow, deep breath, swallowing past the knot in his throat. His child was growing up without him. His commitment to serving his country and to the military was strongâas strong as it had been the day he had enlistedâbut he had to find a way to honor his commitment to his family, as well.
âSit still, Daddy,â Mikey said. âDis wonât hurt.â
Wes closed his eyes to hide tears and made himself smile as he felt small fingers pressing against his neck.
âYouâre a good little doctor,â Wes said. âThat feels great.â
Mikey nodded but kept staring at his fatherâs neck. Wes sensed there was more to come, and when his son slowly rubbed his own little neck, Wes suddenly got it.
âBetter let me have a look there,â Wes said. âWell, thatâs just what I was afraid of.â
Mikeyâs eyes widened. âWhat, Daddy? What do you see?â
âDarned if it doesnât look like you need a Band-Aid, too, and right in the same spot.â
Mikey sighed. âYeah, thatâs what I was afraid of, too.â
Margie quickly hid a smile.
âSince Iâm the only one in the family whoâs not part of the walking wounded, I will get another Barney Band-Aid, ASAP.â
As she left the room, Mikey scooted between Wesâs knees and then slid an arm around his fatherâs neck.
âASAP means as soon as possible.â
Wes nodded. âYes, it does. Good job, buddy. Youâre learning fast.â
Mikey beamed, and then, suddenly bashful, hid his face beneath his fatherâs chin.
âIâm glad youâre home,â he said softly.
Wes wrapped his arms around his son and tried not to think of how small and fragile he felt.
âYeah, buddy, Iâm glad Iâm home, too.â
As soon as Margie returned, Wes returned his sonâs favor. With their heads so close together, Margie thought, it was like looking at the large and small editions of the same face. Then she put her hands on her hips and pretended to frown as Wes stuck the other bandage on his little boyâs neck.
âOut now, please, before I have to start mopping up any more spilled blood,â Margie teased.
Her words set Wesâs stomach to turning, but, again, he hid the feeling.
âCome on, buddy. I think weâre in Mommyâs way.â
A short while later, they were all in the car, on their way to the base.
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Sharon Sala
Sharon Sala has over 135 books and novellas in print, published in six different genres â Romance, Young Adult, Western, Fiction, and Womenâs Fiction and Non-Fiction. First published in 1991, sheâs an eight-time RITA finalist, winner of the Janet Dailey Award, five-time Career Achievement winner from RT Magazine, five time winner of the National Readerâs Choice Award, and five time winner of the Colorado Romance Writerâs Award of Excellence, winner of the Heart of Excellence Award, as well as winner of the Booksellers Best Award. In 2011 she was named RWAâs recipient of the Nora Roberts Lifetime Achievement Award. In 2017 Romance Writers of America presented her with the Centennial Award for recognition of her 100th published novel.
Her books are New York Times , USA Today, Publisherâs Weekly best-sellers. Writing changed her life, her world, and her fate.
For book list and up-dated blogs visit her on Facebook.
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Customer reviews
4.5 out of 5
1,237 global ratings
Glenda
5
Prepare To Read in One Setting!
Reviewed in the United States on February 3, 2023
Verified Purchase
Sala has presented us with a country setting in which activities are mostly about the community, family and the church... I enjoyed reminiscing about my earlier years in this same environment, especially when she used one of my earlier colloquials of "crick" for creek. Yes, I, too, lived near a crick and had to work hard to change to the correct pronunciation... LOL
Ally's was a woman of 28 and had a birth defect of a crooked leg. She could walk, but it was normally with a drag for one foot. She lived with her father and two brothers and had essentially taken over housekeeping duties when her mother died. But her father was a kind man and even though he wasn't quite sure how to do it, he wanted to keep his promise to his beloved wife and mother that he would help ensure Ally had a fulfilling life. Problem was, that most men were put off by her disability, fearing that her children would also be lame and they didn't want to risk that...
But when a neighbor proposed that he be allowed to call on Ally, her father, Gideon, thought this might be the answer, since he'd lost his wife and had three children already to take care of. Needless to say, Ally was not happy, especially when she learned her father had acted on her behalf and without talking, first, with her.
Ally, of course, wanted a different life, plus she had a dream early in her life that, one day, a tall dark man would come walking out from the woods surrounding their place and come to her and ask for a drink...
Still, even when it happened just as she had dreamed, she couldn't quite believe it... But, even Grannie Devon had given her hints over the years through her "sight" but lately, it was more about danger as well.
Wes Holden was the man who walked out of the woods... And, indeed, he asked for a drink of water! But Wes may have been a dream for Ally--maybe even a God Incident. However, he was totally confused and had earlier been in a hospital when he went through a trauma nightmare from which he couldn't wake up. Wes had been doing fairly well upon his return from Afghanistan, but he was still having constant flashbacks that placed him right back into the middle of battle. It was his wife and son who were slowly bringing him back...
Until they were both killed in a domestic terrorist attack at the commissary at which they were shopping. Sometimes, when evil wins a battle, God intervenes and takes what is left of His chosen and helps them to find the way to where someone is now needed... It's not easy to understand, yet, it does show that God cares and loves His people and will provide strength to continue on in a new life.
For surely, there was a new battle to fight for Wes Holden. In the West Virginia Hills where he had wandered into one day. He had been in shock and had no memory of what had happened to his family...
Until he did...
Colonel Wes Holden had been through a lot, but what he now needed was to get out of the hospital--without anybody knowing that he had regained some of his memory. They had found a step-brother who was willing to take him (and his government check!) Wes knew only one thing, this was the way to get him out of the hospital, under medical discharge. He would deal later to get away from the one individual with whom he would never be safe, and planned his escape!
Even from the beginning, Ally could not escape how Wes, in essence, had fulfilled the dream that she'd had all her life. With her mobility problem, she was shy and hesitant to deal with a stranger, but when Wes came knocking, she not only gave him water, a meal...but also a place to stay! She had inherited a small cabin nearby and had Wes moving in that very day. Without ever mentioning it to her family!
While the relationship began between Ally and Wes, there was evil underway by a man who was out to make big money selling drugs... And Ally's two brothers were caught up in what would become a major disaster.
The story builds up from a drama to a point when what is happening is so tense that I, for one, wound up reading through the night to see how the story ended. With more than a touch of horror, Sala shares still another way just how one evil man can turn against anything or anybody that does not fulfill his needs. The villain, a science professional, who is also a sociopath, caring not what he was doing to harm others, was soon confronted by Wes, Ally, and, finally, her brothers, although it came too late for the two men who had hired on to make some quick money, only to begin to understand what was happening.
Of course, the ending was exactly what we wanted to have happen. But just how close disaster had come had included having to call in the DEA, the FBI and even the CDC...
Sala's stories are realistic, yet allow for the goodness of humanity to come through as winning that seemingly constant fight. Thriller Suspense fans will love this one! Highly recommended...
GABixlerReviews
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2 people found this helpful
Kindle Customer
5
Excellent!
Reviewed in the United States on August 24, 2023
Verified Purchase
This was a great story. I've heard of PTSD but had no idea of the horror the victims suffer. I was glad Wes came out of it. I just started this book yesterday, it was so good I'm finished already. Bummerđ¶
Amazon Customer
5
Another Winner
Reviewed in the United States on October 17, 2023
Verified Purchase
I love Sharon Sala's books. I've never read a bad one. She is such a wonderful storyteller. It's another winner.
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