Hostage Cover Reveal...

My life is split into two realities. Before Code. And after him.

The first time I saw him, he walked into my father’s bank with the strut of a man who knows exactly what he wants. I saw in him a fearlessness that I desperately wanted, needed, craved as much as my next breath.

Because I was watching him, I knew immediately when he pulled out a gun, aimed it at the ceiling, and fired three shots.

And that is the way I mark my life—before that moment and after it. Before, when I tried to be agreeable, tried to be admired, tried to be pretty, tried to make sure everyone liked me. Tried to shake myself of shame. And after, when all of that fell away. When I just didn’t care anymore.

Before Code. And after him.

I didn’t know then what he would be to me. I didn’t know how he would transform the fabric of my existence. I didn’t know he would move me, reshape me, mold me into someone else, someone I wanted to be.

Afterwards, he would become my lover, my savior, my hope, and my strength.

But, before that, he was my hostage-taker.

My life is split into two realities. Before Code. And after him.

Much of what happened before Code has faded into a blur—a dark string of shaky images and disconnected sensations. But after Code is all brilliant, star-fire-bright clarity. Day after day, hour after hour, minute and minute—each nanosecond becoming deeply alive.

I still remember the first moment I saw him walk into my father’s bank. He had that strut of a man who knows what he wants and knows how to get it, but at the same time there was something haunted his eyes—so blue and deep and stormy they could have been the sea. His body was perfectly crafted, the tight muscles rippling even through his old t-shirt.

I was standing in the lobby, waiting for my father to come down from his office and take me out for my obligatory birthday lunch. It was a really just a gesture toward a family feeling that had never existed.

Then I saw Code, and I wanted him. I wanted him.

There was no reason to want him. He was as sexy as hell with his broad shoulders and dark five-o’clock shadow, but nothing else about him stood out. He wore jeans. He needed a haircut, and he had tattoos running down the length of one arm. He carried a black canvas bag on his shoulder.

And he scanned the lobby like he’d never been scared a moment in his life.

I had been scared. So many times. I used to huddle under the covers and hope my nightmare wouldn’t come that night, that the sweaty heaviness wouldn’t trap me, hurt me, rip me apart. I lived my whole life scared.

Before Code.

Maybe that was it. I saw in him a fearlessness that I desperately wanted, needed, craved as much as my next breath.

My eyes never left him as he stopped next to the front desk and checked his watch.

His back was to me now, and I stared at the breadth of his shoulders, the way his shirt fit snugly over lines and strong plans of his back, tapering down toward the tightest, finest ass I’d ever laid eyes on.

Because I was watching him, I saw immediately when he pulled out a gun, raised it to aim at the ceiling, and fired three shots.

And that is the way I mark my life—before that moment and after it. Before, when I tried to be agreeable, tried to be admired, tried to be pretty, tried to make sure everyone liked me. Tried to shake myself of shame. And after, when all of that fell away. When I just didn’t care anymore.

Before Code. And after him.

I didn’t know then what he would be to me. I didn’t know how he would transform the fabric of my existence. I didn’t know he would move me, reshape me, mold me into someone else, someone I wanted to be.

Afterwards, he would become my lover, my savior, my hope, and my strength.

But, before that, he was my hostage taker.

N.S. Moore has been writing for years, and she loves romance of all varieties—from sweet to very dark. Her first book, Hostage, is a sexy New Adult contemporary romance about two people who find each other in very unlikely circumstances but discover they’re exactly what the other needs.

When she’s not writing, N.S. Moore likes to read, shop, play tennis, and spend time with her family and her dog. She’s currently working on her next book.

She would love to hear from readers. If you’d like to get in touch with her, you can follow her on Facebook or email her at nsmooreauthor@gmail.com.

 

HOSTED BY: