Written With Regret, the first in an
all-new emotional duet from USA Today
bestselling author Aly Martinez, is available now!
Every little girl dreams of the fairytale. The one where
the white knight rushes in to save her from the clutches of evil. They fall in
love, have babies, and live happily ever after.
By that definition, my life should have been a fairytale
too.
When I was eight years old, Caven Hunt saved me from the
worst kind of evil to walk the Earth. It didn’t matter that I was a kid. I fell
in love with him all the same.
But that was where my fairytale ended.
Years later, a one-night stand during the darkest time imaginable
gave us a little girl. It was nothing compared to the pitch black that consumed
me when I was forced to leave her with Caven for good.
At the end of every fairytale, the happily-ever-after is
the one thing that remains consistent. It wasn’t going to be mine, but there
hadn’t been a night that passed where I hadn’t prayed that it would be hers.
I owed Caven my life.
However, I owed that innocent child more.
And that included ripping the heart from my chest and
facing her father again.
Download
your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
Excerpt:
Life had never been easy for me.
Chaos had been following me like a dark cloud, looming and hovering, casting
its shadow far and wide despite how bright the path in front of me should have
appeared. After growing up the way I had, where happiness had been more of a
privilege than a choice, I knew better than to believe that that moment would
be anything other than fleeting.
And one second later, the universe
proved me right.
I opened the door to see who had rung
the bell—a cursory check revealed an empty hallway.
And that’s when I heard it: the sound
that changed not only my entire life in the present, but my life for all future
days to come.
At first, it was just a grunt, but as
if that baby could feel my gaze, the minute my eyes made contact, it let out a
sharp cry.
Confusion hit me like a lightning
bolt, sending me back a step. I used the door frame for balance as I took in
the yellow blanket with a hole only big enough to reveal a pale-pink face.
“What the fuck?” I breathed. Glancing
around the hall, I waited for someone to jump out and start laughing. When no
one spoke up to issue a punchline, I took a step closer and repeated, “What the
fuck?”
I was utterly unable to process the absurdity
in front of me.
Of course, I knew the facts.
It was a baby.
On my doorstep.
Alone.
But the why in that equation was glaringly absent.
“Uhhh,” Ian drawled, peering over my
shoulder. “Why is there a kid at your door?”
“I have no idea,” I replied, staring
down at the squirming and now-screaming bundle. “It was just there when I
opened the door.”
Ian shoved me to the side so he could
stand beside me. “You’re shitting me, right?”
“Does it look like I’m shitting you?”
He looked from me to the baby, then
back again. “How did it get there?”
We were two incredibly smart men who
had created a technology empire out of nothing. But, clearly, a baby was too
big for either of us to wrap our minds around.
I swept an arm out and pointed to the
kid. “I have no clue, but I’m assuming it didn’t catch a cab.”
A light of understanding hit his
eyes. He moved first, stepping over the crying baby and hurrying down the hall,
searching around the corner near the elevator before returning alone.
The party continued behind me, but
even with the door open, the loud chatter was no match for the ear-piecing
cries happening in that hallway.
Veronica suddenly appeared beside me,
her body going solid as she stammered out. “Is that…a baby?”
“Back up,” I urged, throwing my arm
out to block her path as though the infant were going to suddenly morph into a
rabid animal. And let’s be honest, I knew nothing about babies. Anything was
possible.
Ian dropped to his knees, scooping up
the wailing child. Meanwhile, I stood there like a gawking idiot, paralyzed by
a weight I didn’t yet understand.
“Call the pol—” He stopped abruptly and
reached into the top of the child’s blanket. “Oh shit,” he whispered, his wide,
panic-filled eyes flashing to mine.
“What?” I asked, stepping toward him
to get a better look at the kid. Only it wasn’t that tiny baby cradled in his
arms that made my heart stop and bile rise in my throat.
There, in my best friend’s hand, was
a folded piece of notebook paper that had been tucked into the child’s blanket.
From the looks of it, the paper was unremarkable in every sense of the word.
Blue lines, white spaces, hanging remnants from where it had been haphazardly
ripped from a spiral bound notebook. Even the crease was crooked. But it was my
name scrawled on the outside in messy, black ink that made it the most
remarkable paper in existence.
I snatched it from his hand and, with
blood roaring in my ears, opened it.
Caven,
I’m sorry. I never meant for this to happen. This is our
daughter Keira. I’ll love her forever.
Take care of her the way I can’t.
Written with regret,
Hadley
The hall began to spin, my head
feeling like every ounce of blood had been drained from my body. The thundering
in my ears faded and the loud chatter of my guests, who were suddenly aware
that something was happening at the door, roared to life.
And then the chaos finally found me
all over again—the past playing out in my head like my life flashing before my
eyes.
I sucked in a deep breath and looked
at the baby in his arms. The blanket had fallen off its head just enough to
reveal a patch of fine hairs, more orange than its mother’s red.
“Call the police,” I
declared, turning on a toe and walking back into my apartment, leaving Ian
standing in the hall with Hadley’s child.
Shoving through the crowd of concerned onlookers, I headed
straight to the bottles of liquor lining the counter. I didn’t bother with ice
or even a glass. I threw back that bottle of vodka, hoping like hell the burn
of the alcohol could numb the panic coursing through my veins.
Through it all, that baby never
stopped crying.
Pre-order the stunning conclusion, Written With You,
today!
About Aly
Originally from Savannah, Georgia, USA
Today bestselling author Aly Martinez now lives in South Carolina with her
husband and four young children.
Never one to take herself too seriously, she enjoys cheap wine, mystery
leggings, and olives. It should be known, however, that she hates pizza and ice
cream, almost as much as writing her bio in the third person.
She
passes what little free time she has reading anything and everything she can
get her hands on, preferably with a super-sized tumbler of wine by her side.
Connect with
Aly
Stay up to date with Aly by signing
up for her mailing list today:
Comments
Post a Comment