Description
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About the author:
Bethany Bazile reads, writes, and lives in the Northeast with her husband and two amazing kids. Her passion for writing was born from a love affair between books and music. She loves books that draw her in and won’t release her until she’s inhaled every word, panting with excitement. Then she realizes the sun came up, but the loss of sleep was so worth it. When she isn’t reading, she’s conjuring up steamy love scenes and hot romance stories to share with fellow romance lovers. She can’t function without her cup of coffee and operates on a vampire-like timeframe.
What inspired you to write your book?
I’ve been reading romance since the age of twelve. My intense love for a great love story or love songs inspires me to write. Sometimes a small spark starts a wildfire in my mind, and characters come to life.
Here is a short sample from the book:
Hate is a strong word, and a word I very seldom used. I’d learned years ago what it felt like to really hate someone. I’d reserved that term for one man. The man who snatched me from my life, changed me, and then returned me as if nothing had happened.
I’d dreamt of his face, though I’d never seen it. I’d imagined him to be a vile, disgusting beast in a beautiful disguise. What he took from me had damaged me so immensely it had consequently ruined every other relationship in my life.
He destroyed me.
But the Juliana Callahan who now stood tall was the epitome of perfection. She was at the top of her class, followed her father’s hopes and dreams to a tee, but inside, she was a dark mess.
I was a broken mess.
The seventeen-year-old girl, who’d lived a nightmare, refused to go away and take her memories with her. So when I say I reserved that word for someone who tore me apart, I never once guessed I’d grant that same title to the man who made me feel love again.
The thin line between love and hate everyone spoke of was bullshit. It was more like a dark, gaping pit I plunged into headfirst. There was no line, thin or thick, that separated the feelings. In that gaping hole, all emotions infused into an unbearable struggle to hold onto my soul or to hand it over to a man who’d left me unbalanced.
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