~*~Summary~*~
Two bullets — one just under
her right breast and the other in the middle of her left leg. That’s all it had
taken to destroy Elle Reid, to leave her weak and useless. Just two little
bullets.
Elle gave into her desires and allowed
herself to love. The road to redemption hasn't been easy for her, or her
lovers, but together, she, Sadie, Callum, and Derek strive for a life of peace
and harmony. But will they get their happily ever after, or will a madwoman's
quest for revenge shattered their dreams?
~*~Excerpt~*~
“She cut you.”
Samuel nodded. “We’d gone out for breakfast, and when
we got back, the front door was open. I told Lydia to stay outside and call the
police while I went inside.”
“You stupid fool,” Lydia cried.
“What were you thinking?” Elle exclaimed. “Were you
trying to get yourself killed?”
“No, of course not!” he insisted. “But I couldn’t just
stay on the porch. I found Trixie inside our bedroom. She was . . . she was on
the bed, touching herself.”
“Ew,” Callum groused as he, Derek, and Sadie sat on
the other sofa.
“Tell me about it,” Samuel scoffed, shifting so that
he was facing Elle. “Sweetheart, she, um, she’s dyed her hair dark, like . . .
like yours.”
“Like mine?” Elle whispered.
“Yeah, and, uh, I think she was wearing your clothes.”
“W . . . What?” she stammered, her chest heaving as
she struggled to keep her breathing calm and even. “What do you mean my
clothes?”
“I don’t know how she got them, but you remember the
outfit you wore the day you presented your plans for Alvarez Park?” he asked.
Elle bit her lip, thinking back to the day she and
Sadie had met Samuel Davis. It’d been a year — a long year, that hadn’t been
the easiest on them. “Um, vaguely. I remember wearing one of my black skirts,
but I can’t remember what blouse I wore.”
“It was your blue silk blouse,” Sadie said, her cheeks
warming. “You looked hot in it. Hugged your —”
“Sadie,” Elle hissed, shifting her eyes to the
detectives before looking back at Samuel. “She was wearing my clothes?”
“Or clothes that looked like yours,” he said. “When I
found her on the bed, she smiled and said she’d been waiting for me. I told her
to leave, called her by her name, and she . . .
Well, Trixie went nuts and started screaming at me, saying she was you.”
~*~Biography~*~
Obsessive, compulsive, slightly crazed, but enough about her
personality. First and foremost, Lisa Bilbrey is a mom to three and a wife to
one. She loves to write, and spends the majority of everyday writing. It's who
she is, and what she's meant to be doing. Words are her life, the air she
breathes, and the nutrients of her soul.
Finding
a love in the written word, Lisa Bilbrey started writing as a way to express
herself and let her voice be heard. From the first word she wrote, she'd found
her heart and soul. Always willing to learn, she's spends much of her time
trying to improve as a storyteller.
~*~Links~*~
