by: Karen-Anne Stewart
Publication: December 2014
ISBN: 1502757745
ASIN: B00PRC0RFE
Length: 281 pages
Genres: New Adult, Paranormal Romance
Blurb:
The one whose emotions I can't feel is the one who makes me feel the most.
I was a sensitive, at least that's what I was told by the boy who saved me from the overwhelming emotions that consumed my soul, the boy who saved me from myself when my gift became stronger. Through the years, he was my redemption, my reason to take my next breath ... then, he was gone.
Jensen always told me I was strong, but I didn't believe him until I was forcdd to be strong on my own, and I kept breathing without him. I've taken 42 million breaths since the moment he sent me away. Now, four years later, he's standing in front of me, and I can barely breathe.
This isn't just a story about the abilities I possess; it's a story about something much stronger ... the love of the man who possesses every part of me.
*Disclaimer --- Feel is intended for readers 18+ due to strong language, mature scenes, and some violence.
Buy it : Amazon
I’m getting ready to open the
bedroom door when a shot of someone’s anger, and a heavy case of nerves, hits
me right before a hand clamps over my mouth and an arm wraps around my waist,
pinning me against someone hard and large.
Stupidly, I try to scream even though I know it will be muffled.
“Shut-up,” a gruff voice demands,
and I bite his hand in response.
“Owww, that fuckin’ hurt!” the
voice barks as his arm squeezes my body tighter against his.
I elbow and twist wildly in response,
trying to get a better read on his emotions while mine are drowning in
fear.
“Take it easy,” he spits in
between a few groans as my elbow makes contact.
I do the opposite and fight
harder, giving all I’ve got. A sharp
pain radiates through my right arm as he twists it behind me and pushes it up
my back. My cry is stifled by his hand
that he’s pressing against my mouth and nose, almost cutting off my air.
He starts dragging me out the back
door and down the stairs, and I kick backwards, hitting his shin. A loud expletive leaves his mouth, and I’m
rewarded with another sharp upward thrust of my arm, and I gasp in pain.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he
growls, “so stop fighting me!”
Is he out of his
flippin’ mind? I scream bloody murder as
I see a dark gray van. My heart is
beating so hard it hurts. Using all my
strength, I struggle against the creep trying to kidnap me and throw my head
back against his nose in a last ditch effort of escape.
“Sonofabitch!” he yells, but his
grip never relents as he pushes me inside the van.
My body hits the metal floor as
the door slams shut. Raw fear spirals
through me as I try to squint through the dark.
My emotions are heightened, clouding his, and I try to calm my
panic. I let out an ear-piercing scream
as I lunge for the door, but he blocks my path.
Lashing out, I curl my fist and swing as hard as I can. My knuckles explode in pain when they crash
into his jaw.
“Will you stop hitting me?” he
yells, grabbing my arms and pushing me into a chair.
“Let me go!” I scream, kicking
savagely.
“You can scream all you want; the
van’s soundproof,” he states, his voice sounding as pissed as he feels. He straddles my lap, and I let out another
loud wail. Slapping his hand over my
mouth, he grabs duct tape, “On second thought, shut the hell up.” He keeps his left arm pressed roughly against
my chest and arms as he holds the duct tape with his right hand, ripping two
long pieces off with his teeth.
My eyes begin to acclimate to the
dim lighting in the van and I can make out blue eyes and dark hair. I would think he was attractive if he wasn’t
currently taping my wrists to a chair, getting ready to do God knows what to
me. “Let me go, please,” I switch
tactics.
“I need a few answers first, then
we’ll see,” he states, pulling against the duct tape to make sure it’s
secure.
“Answers?” My question comes out
in a rush as I try to keep from hyperventilating when my wrists won’t even
budge against my restraints. “I don’t
know anything. Just let me go.”
He steps closer and I push back,
causing an ear-splitting screech as the metal of the chair slides against the
metal floor of the van. “Don’t touch me,
asshole!” I warn, my anger rioting as I feel his burning through me.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he barks, looking like he’s about to bust a
vein trying to keep from yelling at me.
His eyes darken before he rakes a frustrated hand through his hair and
grinds his jaw before speaking to me again, “I’m not the bad guy here.”
Glancing down at the duct tape
currently pinning my wrists to the cold metal, I cut my eyes at him, flashing a
sickeningly sweet sarcastic smile, “Oh, okay, I get it…so you’re supposed to be
the good and cuddly kind of fucked-up, perverted bastard who likes to tie women
to chairs, then.”
Whatever he’s getting ready to say is cut off when the door opens. The sun blinds me as it pours inside, and I
open my mouth to scream but all air flees my lungs when I see him, the one
person I ever trusted, ever loved; the one person who ever made me feel
safe. For years, Jensen was my air. He was my redemption, my reason to take my
next breath…then he was gone. He always
told me I was strong, but I didn't believe him until I was forced to be strong
on my own, and I kept breathing without him.
I've taken forty-two million breaths since the moment he sent me
away. Now, four years later, he's
standing in front of me, and I can barely breathe. How is it possible that the one whose
emotions I can’t feel is the one who makes me feel the most? That night four years ago sears my soul and
the pain threatens to destroy me all over again.
Karen-Anne Stewart has always adored reading and has now fallen in love with writing. Her written works are The Rain Trilogy: Saving Rain, Healing Rain, and After the Rain. Her debut novel, Saving Rain: The first novel in The Rain Trilogy, as a nominee for the Book Junkie Choice Awards and is a nominee for the 2013 RONE Awards.When Karen-Anne isn't writing, she enjoys spending time with her family and friends, hiking, and visiting new places. She fuels her addiction of creating new stories by her only other addiction, caffeine, and listening to a myriad of musical genres. Tucked away near the Blue Ridge Mountains, Karen-Anne lives with her husband, daughter, two dogs, and their cat. She plans on writing new adult romance as long as her fingers maintain dexterity.
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