Both being extremely independent and familiar with
rejection, Celeste Hill and Elliot Godwin have a short but intense time
together, something very special.
how he might pursue a connection he’d never dreamed of having. And, despite
pursuing her dream, Celeste can’t stop thinking about Elliot and what might
are pregnant. Impossible. Believing he’s sterile, the reason his wife left him,
Elliot is devastated—and lashes out. Celeste flees his cruel words, putting
distance between them, and now determined not to name him as the father of
Elliot follows his heart and Celeste again opens hers for their happily ever
Knowing the majority of her response was hormone-fueled did nothing to mitigate the meltdown. How hard had she held herself against the news until now, sharing with no one but him? Forgoing the acceptance and excitement of her friends and family… Doing the right thing, notifying the father first. She sobbed and
choked until she thought her throat would tear and her lungs collapse, her
cheeks raw with the deluge. Her baby…
She pressed a hand against her abdomen, whispering a heartfelt reassurance. Not about you, sweetheart. I love you.
minutes before she wrestled back her composure, albeit as a soggy wreck of
sorted out the reasoning—and ensuing rejection—behind his flat comment in short
order. But it wasn’t impossible. He was capable regardless of what he believed.
The tiny seed in her belly was living proof.
pregnant with another man’s child, to cadge… She couldn’t bear to think of what
he thought of her. His opinion didn’t matter either. Asshole.
remained of her makeup and took a shuddering breath, pushing any thought of
Elliot Godwin from her head.
started, turning to stare at his unwelcome bulk hunched over her little car,
his handsome face only inches away. His silvery eyes were narrowed, cold and
impenetrable, not at all like the turbulent wash of emotion when he’d been as
deep inside her as any man could be in a woman. Planting their child.
faint shiver of that arousing memory before dispatching it. Stupid hormones.
her face and she knew what he saw. She never cried prettily, but then she
rarely cried. Make that never. Tears were for the weak. He would know that.
not—Elliot didn’t judge, at least about consenting adults sexing things up. So,
what then? What was a woman called who tried to stick a guy with a kid that
wasn’t his? Something far worse in his eyes, for sure.
vehicle into gear.
regard to his proximity, she drove forward and then guided the car back onto
the pavement, ignoring his tall form in the mirror.
Allyson Young lives in cottage country, Manitoba, Canada with her husband and numerous pets. she has always enjoyed the written word, and after reading an erotic romance, quite by mistake, decided to try her hand at penning one.
A best selling Amazon author, a hybrid author, as of December 2017, along with her alter ego and three co-authors, she has published four series and several standalones in contemporary, sci fi, fantasy and suspense genres–50 books in total.
Allyson will write until whatever is inside is satisfied, until the heroes man up and the heroines get what they deserve. Love isn’t always sweet, and she favours the darker side of romance.