FORGIVE ME by Eliza Freed (November 4, 2014; Forever Yours E-Book; $3.99)
The thing he loves most in the world will kill him. It's only a matter of time . . . "College student Charlotte O'Brien is lost and she can't find her way home. Devastated by her parents' tragic deaths, she aches for any kind of connection…and finds it in a man who is all wrong for her. Jason Leer is a rough-hewn steer wrestler from Oklahoma-and the hottest thing Charlotte has ever laid eyes on. Yet he has his own dark secrets…
Burying herself in Jason, Charlotte soon discovers that life doesn't have to be so painful. When they're together their passion eclipses everything-and Charlotte can finally begin to see a way out of the darkness of her past. Fighting for a future with Jason won't be easy, but for the first time since her parents' deaths, this lost soul might have finally found a place that feels like home.
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About the author:
Eliza Freed graduated from Rutgers University and returned to her hometown in rural South Jersey. Her mother encouraged her to take some time and find herself. After three months of searching, she began to bounce checks and her neighbors began to talk; her mother told her to find a job.
She settled into Corporate America, learning systems and practices and the bureaucracy that slows them. Eliza quickly discovered her creativity and gift for story telling as a corporate trainer and spent years perfecting her presentation skills and studying diversity. It's during this time she became an avid observer of the characters we meet and the heartaches we endure. Her years of study have taught her laughter is the key to survival, even when it's completely inappropriate.
She currently lives in New Jersey with her family and a misbehaving beagle named Odin. An avid swimmer, if Eliza is not with her family and friends, she'd rather be underwater. While she enjoys many genres, she has always been a sucker for a love story...the more screwed up the better.
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M’s Sinful Reviews Q&A w/ Eliza Freed
- What 3 words would you use to describe your heroine, Charlotte?
Unsinkable. Jersey. Girl.
- How important are names to you in your books? Do you choose the names based on liking the way they sound or the meaning?
I completely obsess over names. Each one’s meaning is researched. I have the hardest time naming unlikeable characters because I feel bad for real life people with those names. The names in the Lost Souls Series have changed several times throughout the process, even up to the final editing round.
Charlotte was Kathryn, then Ariana, and finally Charlotte. I dressed as a spider for Halloween and my friend kept yelling, “Charlotte” across the room at me, and I thought it’s perfect.
- What can readers count on you to deliver in a story?
A thought provoking love story. It may not be pretty, but it’s going to make you think about things.
- What do you think is the biggest misconception about being an author?
The thing that has surprised me the most is how lonely the work is. The project you’re working on may not be shared for months, and by then you’ll be solemnly working on the next one.
- What’s ahead for you and the Lost Souls series?
There are a few “lost scenes” I’d like to write. I’ll have to see where we end up after the editing process is complete. I’m toying with the idea of writing Charlotte’s mother, Katherine Whatley’s, story and possibly Clint’s as a holiday novella. I have my dream romance I want to publish, as well as a contemporary series that’s a mix between The Office and Sex and the City.
EXCERPT
I sit up and a pain jabs from my neck down between my shoulders. I roll my head as I pinch the muscle on both sides. The kink will take days to come out. It’s from attempting to sleep on the concrete wall that is Jason Leer’s chest. He is painful. But the thought of sleeping without him sends a chill down my spine. Watching him sleep, his black hair circling his face, makes him seem so gentle and calm. He looks sweet in his sleep, but Jason’s not sweet. He’s some force between good and evil that whisks me away from everything I’m afraid of.
We should be talking more, though. We exist in silence. No one has sex this often without speaking. I’m not sure what has to be said, but I think everyone else is talking about something. The world is communicating. Jason rolls onto his side. He reaches out and grabs my hip. Without opening his eyes he slides his hand up my side until he comes to my breast and there he rests his hand as he smiles. My stomach flips and I cannot help but smile, too. This cowboy is doing something to me. Jason’s eyes open and rise to me, his hand never leaving my breast.
“What’s your favorite color?” I ask.
Jason seems frustrated, or amused. For Jason, the two emotions might be the same.
“You’ve known my favorite color since we first learned the names of the colors,” he says, sitting up.
“Red? Is it red?”
“Are you thinking, Annie?”
“Thinking about what?”
“Thinking in general. Trying to figure this out? Trying to make sense of everything. It’s probably the reason we’ve never been together before last week. The entire world doesn’t have to make perfect sense.”
Fuck. You.
I take a deep breath. Why does he piss me off so much?
“I can tell by your anger I’m right,” he says, and pulls me onto his lap. He throws one leg over the side of his body and I’m pretty sure he could hog-tie me if he wanted to. “My favorite color is red.”
“Do you think you’re falling in love with me?” I ask, afraid of the answer.
“Definitely not.”
“What are you doing with me then?” I need to know, but panic seizes me. I need him so much.
“Surviving.” I look down at his chest. My hands find his nipples and with both between my fingers I consider pulling until he yelps.
“I don’t understand,” I say, barely above a whisper.
“Falling in love with you does not begin to describe what’s going on.” Jason tilts my chin up so I’m forced to see his gray eyes. “I felt like I was walking around dead from the day my mom died until I drove you to Stoners Lane.” He pauses and I remember how he stole me. “You are the only thing I need. The only thing I want. And you consume me every minute of every day. With you, I am alive. Without you, I am not,” he says, and the weight of his words crushes me. “‘I love you’ just doesn’t properly convey that.”
“Oh,” I say.
“Stop thinking. Give your mind a break and just be with me.” I slide closer to him and kiss him. By the time he bends me backward onto the bed I forget what we were even talking about.
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