To understand me, you have to understand my pain.
You have to understand where it all started...
I see her differently now.
My friend, Michelle Douglas.
It’s the summer of 1994 where the love of the 80’s still holds on for dear life.
She’s wearing a black ACDC shirt that hangs over the shoulder and she is hanging out with a group of friends.
I don’t know what it is about her right now, but in this moment, everything has changed for me.
Everything about her calls out to me.
I think it always has. It always will.
Her love isn’t easy to get, but I’m determined to get it.
There’s one problem.
She’s promised to another.
An abusive man that doesn’t know he has the entire world right in front of him.
We fall in love realizing we have always been in love.
She’s going to leave him.
I have the rest of my life planned out. My future is Michelle.
I just need to survive the war.
I need to come back to her.
But when I do…
Nothing is the same.
And everything has changed.
Shows no mercy.
“Heartbreak, 4 stars”
“Heartbreak, 4 stars”
I wasn’t a hundred percent sure when I started reading Mercy what I was getting into. I just saw Ruthless Sinners and one-clicked. Mercy made my heart hurt in a good way.
Mercy isn’t exactly a love story. Is there love? Yes. But it’s so much more. We watch Audrey try to put the puzzle pieces of the past back together to get the answers he needs. The only one who could tell him is no longer alive, and he wants nothing more than to get to know the daughter he never knew he had.
My heart went out to him. I think if you're looking for something a little non-traditional you should try Mercy.
Plot-4/5 Heat-4/5 Characters-4/5 Writing style- 4/5 Overall-4/5
GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56808257-mercy
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“Okay.” Brandon slaps his hands together and rubs them villainously. “Let’s go get our palms read.”
“In there?” I point to the double-gallery house behind him. There isn’t a sign. There’s a blue neon light in the shape of a palm in the window, and in the middle it says, ‘Palm Readings.’ Nothing else. No business name or anything. If anything, the building gives me the creeps. It’s two blocks over from Bourbon Street, so it isn’t as busy. It’s dark; the only light illuminating the sidewalk is from the blue glow of the sign.
“Look, this place has got to be legit, right? I saw a flyer at the bar,” Brandon protests.
Michelle is grabbing my hand tight and hiding behind me, peeking out from around me. “It looks creepy,” she whispers, just as the wind blows, causing the wind chimes hanging above the doorway to tinkle mysteriously.
I narrow my eyes at the musical instruments creating gorgeous high-pitched tunes, but the closer I look at them and the more my eyes adjust to the night, I begin to notice something off about them. I take a step forward, the porch groaning as I step onto it.
“What are you doing?” Michelle hisses to keep her voice low so no one inside hears us.
Doubtful, since no one seems to be here.
“How have we lived in New Orleans all this time and not done this? I’m excited.” Brandon goes to knock, but I grab his wrist before he can.
“Because locals fucking know better. Either you dive into the real shit or you don’t. Tourists don’t care,” I explain.
I keep my arm stretched out to keep Michelle behind me. Something feels off. I look around noticing no one else around. The upbeat jazz music has faded in the distance, but the cheers of drunk people can still be heard.
The clonks of hooves tap against the road, which has me turning my head to see a horse and carriage. The loud wail of the chimes rings again, bringing my attention back to the odd shapes. Are those… my eyes widen when I finally see what I think they are.
“Oh my god, are those bones?” I reach up to touch them to see if maybe they feel real, but Michelle stops me.
“Don’t you dare. If they are bones, you could catch something…”
“They aren’t real. Come on.” Brandon runs his finger over what looks like a ribcage. “It’s supposed to be spooky. Gives it the ‘real feel.’”
“Your friend is right, mon cher.” An old woman’s Cajun accent has us all jumping and taking a step back.
When the hell did she open the door?
“‘Dem bones are from a cat. Don’t worry. It was already dead. Did not want to let it go to waste.” She rings the chimes by pulling the spine that sways in the middle and runs it across the ribs to create more music.
Honestly, now all I hear are sad meows.
#2 Whistler – Releasing August 6
K.L. Savage decided they were tired of looking for the kind of books they wanted to read. They had an itch that needed to be scratched, and as every girl knows, nothing scratches better than an alpha.
They write about gritty, alpha males, sometimes their dark sides, and the women they love.
If you have the same itch, their alpha males should fix that.
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