COVER REVEAL- Mine by Brittany Taylor
Title: Mine
Series: Back to Me #2
Series: Back to Me #2
Author: Brittany Taylor
Genre: Romantic Suspense/Psychological Thriller
Cover Design: Alora Kate
Release Date: October 22, 2020
Cover Design: Alora Kate
Release Date: October 22, 2020
Blurb
We were living in a
state of ignorant bliss. Ready to move on, ready to heal.
Our plan was working until we found that small slip of paper inside our apartment. A promised message that I would never truly be free. Now, the life I thought I'd have with Logan was quickly becoming no life at all. Cutting ties with everyone I know; Logan and I decided to start a new life, hoping to leave the past behind us, along with that piece of paper.
Three thousand miles and one year later, Logan and I were still struggling with the choices we’d made. The guilt I had for leaving my best friend, Abby remained, devouring me from the inside out. But then, in a twist of fate, Abby came back into my life, offering a chance to mend our broken friendship.
But just like Abby’s unexpected return, the demons from my past quickly began to resurface. Pieces of my past continued to haunt me, forcing me to question whether the life Logan and I had built was real or whether everything wasn't as it seemed.
My past had returned, determined to prove my life wasn’t truly mine.
It never was.
Our plan was working until we found that small slip of paper inside our apartment. A promised message that I would never truly be free. Now, the life I thought I'd have with Logan was quickly becoming no life at all. Cutting ties with everyone I know; Logan and I decided to start a new life, hoping to leave the past behind us, along with that piece of paper.
Three thousand miles and one year later, Logan and I were still struggling with the choices we’d made. The guilt I had for leaving my best friend, Abby remained, devouring me from the inside out. But then, in a twist of fate, Abby came back into my life, offering a chance to mend our broken friendship.
But just like Abby’s unexpected return, the demons from my past quickly began to resurface. Pieces of my past continued to haunt me, forcing me to question whether the life Logan and I had built was real or whether everything wasn't as it seemed.
My past had returned, determined to prove my life wasn’t truly mine.
It never was.
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Excerpt
Chapter 1
Lena
The
crunching beneath my foot feels like a million bones snapping all at once.
“Well,
shit.” I groan, bending down to pick up the remnants of what was once my phone.
The shattered screen and half-broken backing bend across the palm of my hand
like a sad, spineless mess. Wiping large clumps of mud and rain from the
screen, I foolishly try to turn it back on knowing there’s no possible way it
could still work.
When it
doesn’t come back to life, I snap my head up at the sound of a car door
closing. Logan’s footsteps pound into the soaking wet asphalt as he steps up
onto the curb, stopping in front of me.
Concerned,
he eyes the shattered remains of my phone. “Again, Lena?”, he sighs, cradling
my hands in his. Heavy drops of water cover the skin of our joined
hands. I look up at him between rain-soaked eyelashes.
“I know.” A
piece of me deflates, knowing I’ve only had this phone for two months. However,
the last phone was replaced simply out of necessity and survival than it was
pure clumsiness. “I can’t help it,” I say. “I tripped getting out of the
car.” I glance over my shoulder, narrowing my eyes at the exact spot I
tripped.
Logan
swipes his thumb along my cheek, pulling my gaze back to him. “Always so
clumsy.”
I laugh.
“No. I think it’s just a case of bad luck.”
We’re
standing on the sidewalk outside Logan’s apartment in the center of Providence.
Thick, heavy drops of rain continue to pour down on us, soaking us
from head to toe. The sound of passing cars, their tires barreling through
puddles, echoes behind us. Logan’s touch stirs me, bringing back those all
too familiar warm feelings at the bottom of my stomach. His thumb grazing my
skin matches the warm water saturating our skin.
I’m still
holding my broken phone in my hand when I raise my other one to his head. I
brush my fingers against the freshly cut strands. His chestnut-colored hair now
looks black thanks to the thunderstorm brewing above us. The ends are pressed
against his forehead, weighed down by the cool water. His hair is cut short and
a piece of me deflates, missing the way it used to look, long and unruly. But
just like my first replacement phone, Logan cut his hair out of
necessity.
I run my
hand down the side of his face then slide it across his waist, wrapping my arm
around his sculpted frame. His muscles instinctively retract at my touch and I
can’t deny how my stomach flutters knowing I still elicit this kind of reaction
out of him. It’s only been a few months since Logan and I have really
been together and not a day has passed where I don’t remember how much I love
him. I scan his face, my heart fluttering as his mouth turns up into
a smile. His jaw is covered in the beginnings of a beard, the
scruff hiding the leftover evidence of what his face had endured several months
ago. Scars are buried underneath, a constant reminder of how I had nearly lost
him.
Logan wraps
his hands around my waist, gripping onto my hips. He pulls me close and the
familiar scent of orange tic-tacs fills the moisture-filled air between
us. Ever since I met him, he’s been absolutely obsessed with orange tic-tacs.
Claims they’re the only ones worth eating. I always thought it more had to do
with the fact that he quit smoking just after I met him, and he knew
it was the only thing that kept him from picking up the habit again. That and
the fact that they were significantly cheaper.
His eyes
search my face. “We should probably get inside. We’re getting soaked.”
“I don’t
care.” I laugh. Thunder rumbles the sky above us and my heart skips a
beat, the feeling shooting straight through me.
“Come on.”
Logan laughs, tucking a few loose strands of hair back behind my ears. His
fingers stop short when he reaches the ends. As Logan had done, I cut my hair
as well. Not too short, but enough for me to be able to feel the absence
of the weight it once held. He grabs the shattered remains of my phone and
drops them into the grocery bag he’s holding. He wraps his arm around me,
urging me to follow him inside to his apartment. “We’ll get you a new phone
tomorrow."
Logan’s
apartment building is tall. It’s one of those apartment buildings that require
a security code to get in the front door. One large door remains as the only
entrance into the building, its brick exterior acting as a blanket of security.
When Logan had recovered enough to be released from the hospital, both of us
had decided it would be best for us to stay together, to live together. His
recovery was going to be a long process, one that would take up the
majority of my time. Neither of us felt safe anymore and as far as we
knew, Julian didn’t know where Logan lived. In the time that Logan was
recovering in the hospital, I would stay with him as much as I possibly could,
or I would stay with my best friend, Abby. I didn’t feel safe returning my
apartment, knowing my ex-boyfriend knew where I lived.
“So, what
will it be tonight?” Logan enters the code into the small silver box beside the
front door to the building. I follow him as he steps inside. He begins walking
backward toward the elevator, lifting the now soggy brown paper bag of
groceries. His mouth curls back into that playful smirk. His golden eyes spark
and I can feel them consuming me. “Spaghetti or tacos?”
I twist my
face in disgust. Laughing, I step into the elevator, pressing the button for
the nineteenth floor. “Spaghetti? Are you really asking me to choose between
spaghetti and tacos? Hands down you know I’m choosing tacos.” I reach up,
squeezing the excess rainwater from my hair then lean against the
wall, eyeing Logan from across the small space between us.
“I knew it
wasn’t a contest. I’m just a sucker for when you twist your face the way you
just did. The way your smooth lips twist at the perfect angle. The way your
eyebrows slant into those gorgeous light brown eyes of yours.” His eyes gleam
despite the dim lights overhead as he slowly says each word. He leans back
against the opposite wall, tipping his head back, mimicking my stance and
watching me with hooded eyes. He’s happy. I’m happy.
Pushing off
the elevator wall, I walk across the small space, tipping my chin up to meet
Logan’s gaze. I press my hips into him, melting into his body. I grasp onto the
wet fabric of his shirt with my fingers and run my tongue across my lip,
pulling him impossibly closer. “And I’m a sucker for you, Logan Moore.”
Logan reaches
up, wrapping his hand on the back of my head. His movements are quick as if he
knows exactly what he’s doing. His fingers thread through my wet hair. He pulls
me close, pressing my lips to his. His mouth is warm and wet from the rain. I
sigh against his body. His hand slides away from my hair and along my cheek,
holding me back just enough for me to see his face. “I want it to be like this
forever, Lena.”
“Me
too.”
Then, as
the elevator dings, reaching the nineteenth floor, I will Logan’s words to be
true. I wish I could freeze this moment in time. One where my heart feels
like it might burst out of my chest and Logan’s staring at me like he wouldn’t
want to ever be looking at another person for the rest of his life.
I playfully
bump my shoulder into his solid, sculpted arm as we step out into the hallway.
It’s quiet as it usually is, and I’m thrilled about the prospect of
removing my rain-soaked clothes. My cheeks grow sore from grinning as
Logan walks ahead of me. My smile immediately fades when I stumble and nearly
trip into his, the right side of my body slamming into his. His body is stiff,
frozen solid and every part of my body turns cold when I follow his gaze.
The door to
Logan’s apartment is propped open, six inches of black empty space between it
and the doorframe. We both don’t immediately walk toward the door. Instead, he
reaches his arm out, blocking me from walking further than where he is
standing. He’s protecting me, unsure what kind of situation we’re in.
“Wait
here.” Logan whispers.
“No.” I
whisper back. “I’m going with you.” I wrap my hands around his arm, pressing my
fingers into his tensed muscle.
He narrows
his gaze toward me for a moment, knowing how stubborn I can be.
A chill
prickles down the back of my neck and a familiar feeling washes over me.
Fear pierces its way into my chest. Logan’s heavy boots carefully step onto the
carpet as we inch forward, carefully examining what type of situation we’re
walking into.
We’ve been
here before. Months ago, I walked into my apartment to find Logan’s Boston
Bruins t-shirt shredded to pieces on my bedroom floor and my ex-boyfriend's tie
knotted to the metal post of my bed frame.
I close my
eyes and take a deep breath, willing myself to believe this isn’t the same.
This can’t be Julian. It can’t.
When we
make it to the front door, Logan leans forward and carefully peeks
through the opening, before gently nudging the door open with the tip of his
boot. The hallway leading to the living room is pitch black and after my eyes have
taken a moment to adjust, it doesn’t appear as if anything has been disturbed.
But the sight doesn’t bring any sense of relief. It’s Julian’s way. He has a
way of letting you know he’s there without making it obvious.
Neither of
us steps into the apartment and I could swear I could hear Logan’s heart
pounding alongside mine, echoing through the empty hallway. I suddenly remember
just how alone we are. I hold my breath, the oxygen swelling in my neck as I
turn my head, glancing down each side of the hallway. There’s no one that I can
see. Again, there’s no relief, worried the person could still be inside.
“I’m going
to check inside the apartment and make sure there isn't anyone still in there.
I need you to stay here.”
“No.” I
shake my head. “I’m going in there with you.” I remove his hands from my face,
holding them between us. “I’m safer with you than I am standing out here
alone.”
He presses
his lips into a thin line, nodding in acknowledgment. I can see the war in
Logan’s eyes. He’s afraid. He’s not afraid of what is inside the apartment.
Instead, he’s more afraid of how what’s inside will affect me. He’s
worried for me.
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Author Bio
Brittany Taylor grew up all over the world including places
such as California, England and Texas. Today she resides in Connecticut with
her husband, two sons, two cats, and a dog. She loves reading but loves writing
even more. Her favorite things in life are her family, binge watching Golden
Girls, and tacos.
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