Published by Self on 06/03/19
Genres: Contemporary Romance
Buy on Amazon US | Buy on Amazon UK
I fell in love with him when I was thirteen years old.
He was older, mysterious, and unattainable. The guy I could never touch.
Then one night changed everything for us. But there was one huge problem.
He belonged to her.
Genre: Forbidden Romance
When I read the blurb for The Truth about Heartbreak by B. Celeste I knew I wanted to read it. I am a huge fan of angsty books and this had it all! Forbidden romance, cheating, a brother’s best friend, family ties and so much more! I could not wait to get it started and I was not disappointed.
River James has not had an easy life. She has been in foster care for years, until she is finally adopted. She does not trust easily, but when she meets her new family, something clicks. She meets Everett Tucker and there is a deep connection between them. But he is her new brother’s best friend and a big part of the family. So begins a story that lasts years and is full of angst and second chances. They faced so many obstacles throughout their journey.
River’s story was heartbreaking and it took her a while to find her place in her new world. Everett was so caring and patient. I loved that we got the point of view of both characters and were able to see both their past and present. This was an emotional story full of angst and I devoured it!
Present / 23
caress of silk sheets against my bare skin leaves me hyperaware of what I’ve
done. Early morning sunlight slips through the cracked blinds and kisses my exposed
back, coating the room in soft pinks and yellows.
rhythmic breathing sounds from behind me. In, out. In, out. It’s a melody that
makes my muscles lock, too afraid to reacquaint my eyes with every dip and
curve of chiseled muscle displayed inches away.
musky scent wraps around me, overwhelming my senses until my heart thumps
wildly in my chest. It doesn’t take away the memories of lingering touches,
gentle kisses, and an overpowering sense of belonging. And less than twelve
hours ago, I belonged to Everett Tucker in ways I never thought possible in the
ten years of knowing him.
mattress dips with the shift of his weight. I hold my breath, waiting to see if
he’s awake. When his soft snores echo in the half-empty room, I release the
breath and white knuckle the sheets against my breasts. Carefully, I sit up and
squeeze my eyes closed like it’ll soften the blow of reality.
the pounding headache or quake of unavoidable nausea to punish me, but my
conscience reminds me of what I already know. I wasn’t drunk last night. What
I’ve done can’t be blamed on alcohol.
drags across my bare neck until my heart thunders in pure panic over my missing
possession. I swallow my anxiety when I catch the silver chain resting on the
night stand and remember the very moment he took it off me.
skin. That’s what he said he wanted between us. I’ve only taken this necklace
off to shower and sleep. It goes everywhere with me, the silver paint palette
and brush charms sweeping over my heartbeat as a reminder that he cares. But in
the moment I had him as more than a wish, a hope, a dream, he didn’t want it
fingertips touch the newest charm, a cracked heart, and I suck in a short
breath when the contact shocks me. Clenching the sheets tighter to me, I turn
slightly to peek through my peripheral and see a tussle of dirty blond hair
against my starch white pillow case.
conscience taunts. Look at him.
tan skin make their way into my sight as I shift, my gaze drifting up the
mountain of hard muscles that form his toned biceps as they wrap around a
pillow. Worrying my bottom lip, my heart summersaults in my chest when the curve
of his square jaw comes into view. The sharp line of it is coated with early
morning shadow that he’ll shave despite preferring a thin layer of stubble.
peaceful when he’s sleeping; the hard edge he normally radiates eased to a
laxed slumber. From this angle, I can see the faded white scar that stretches
from the bottom of his left ear along the curve of his throat, landing just
above his pulse. You wouldn’t know it’s there unless you know the story, and he
doesn’t tell just anybody.
tightens from the emotions lodging in the back of it as I scope out his
sculpted body. He works hard for every muscle, spends countless hours in the
gym or training at the fire department, and it shows. The man sleeping beside
me has been a figment of my imagination that I’ve conjured thousands of times,
but his body is a masterpiece I never could have perfected unless I saw it in
the memory of his body spread on my mattress, bare to me. Every vulnerability
laying in a mess of sheets, open to pull apart and dissect and regret when the
sun fully rises.
twelve hours ago I belonged to the minty eyed boy I’ve loved since I was
thirteen. But Everett Tucker isn’t mine to love.
I rise from bed.
I whisper brokenly, my heart shattering inside my chest. I can feel the pieces
splintering apart as I choke out my final words. “We made a mistake.”
is the alter ego of Barbara C. Doyle.
with forbidden romance enabled her to pave a path into a new world of love,
sex, sin, and angst.
novel is The Truth about Heartbreak.