17
Roan
Annie had written a story unlike anything I’d ever read. Including those romance novels her mom brought out for my sisters. The inner turmoil of the characters came alive inside me, twisting my guts up as fate brought them together with a crash—literally. Two cars, head on. One spouse dead, one living with guilt and remorse even though she hadn’t been at fault.
Two broken souls meeting again a year later, one still haunted by causing a death, the other healing through grief therapy.
Eventually friends, then turning into lovers.
An unexpected pregnancy—blame coming about because of misunderstood intent when there’d been no attempt to manipulate.
Annie’s voice had grown hoarse by the time she neared the end of the first book, heading toward a cliff hanger ending she’d warned me
