Title:
Solid Ground
Series:
Wounded Love #3
Author:
Megan Green
Release
Date: Nov 17, 2016
Synopsis:
From piggy back rides to promise rings.
Joey Roberts and Nichole Hadley were inseparable from the moment they met on
the playground. Years later, with graduation looming and their future about to
begin, they were positive nothing could tear them apart.
Until one bad decision.
More than a decade following their breakup, Joey returns to town after
suffering a devastating injury in Iraq. With a new job on the police force and
a new house to fix up, he knows he’ll have no trouble keeping his mind and body
occupied.
But when a call brings him face to face with a broken and battered Nichole
Hadley-Reynolds, it ignites a flame he'd long thought extinguished.
Joey was certain he’d forgotten Nichole.
Nichole doubted she still held a place in his heart.
Will this be the start of a second chance at lost love? Or will they remain
floating adrift, forever in search of...
Solid Ground?
Pre-Order
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Excerpt:
“Unit Twenty-Two, we have a reported
ten-sixteen over on Maple. Do you copy?”
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand,
clearing any lingering doughnut crumbs. I know, I know. A cop eating a
doughnut—I’m a walking, talking cliché. Sue me.
I press the button on the side of my radio
and respond to Becky, “Ten-four. Unit Twenty-Two en route. ETA, less than five
minutes.”
Becky’s voice crackles through the radio
once again. “Thanks, Roberts. Twenty-four fifty-six Maple. And be careful. The
neighbor who phoned it in said it sounded bad.”
“Copy that,” I say with a smile.
In the small town of Superior, Colorado,
it’s likely that the ten-sixteen —a domestic dispute—is simply a couple arguing
over whose turn it is to take out the trash. After all my years away, I forgot
how small this place was. You’d think, in the twelve years since I left,
something would’ve changed. But nope. It’s still the same sleepy little town I
left behind where something as simple as a cat being stuck in a tree makes the
local evening news.
Fucking
Mayberry, I think to myself. And here I am, Sheriff Andy Taylor, reporting for duty.
I eye the greasy brown paper bag in the
seat next to me, contemplating whether I want to wolf down doughnut number two
before I get there or if I should save it for later. I give it a soft pat,
deciding to wait. I still have another six hours on duty after all. Better to
have something to look forward to.
This isn’t exactly the way I pictured my
life turning out, writing speeding tickets and helping little old ladies cross
the street. I always felt like I was destined for more than what this town
could give me.
I was the kid waiting at the door of the
Army recruitment office the morning after graduation, ready to see the world
and fight for my country. While all my friends had been preparing for
college—dreaming of girls, parties, freedom from their overprotective parents—I
had pounded the pavement, running ten miles every day and spending several
hours in the school gym, lifting and squatting it out, until there was no
question I was in peak physical condition. I didn’t want to give the Army the
chance to turn me down.
And, for almost six years, I got exactly
what I wanted. Sure, there were some shitty days—lots of them, if I’m honest.
But I never doubted what I was doing. After eighteen years of trying to figure
out where I belonged, I finally felt like I fit. No matter what anybody said, I
knew I was doing exactly what I was meant to.
Until, one day, it was all taken from me.
Someone had made the decision for me. See, losing a leg in the line of duty
isn’t exactly something the Army just looks the other way for. No matter how
strong I remained, no matter how agile I was on my prosthesis, I was done. They
wouldn’t allow me to reenlist. It was the worst fucking day of my entire life.
So, now, after several years training
service dogs with my best friend Emma, I’m back where I started. And, as I turn
onto Maple Drive, I can’t help the memories that flood my mind.
She lived on this street. I’ve somehow managed to avoid turning down
this road in the six months I’ve been back. I’ve driven past it numerous times,
but this will be the first time I’ve actually had to drive past the house that
holds so many memories.
I watch the house numbers ascend as I drive
along the asphalt, a lump forming in my throat the closer I get to twenty-four
fifty-six. It can’t be her house, can it?
As many times as I was there back then, I
never actually paid attention to the address. But, as my cruiser pulls to a
stop in front of the familiar blue door and matching shutters, I know I
should’ve expected this. Fate seems to like to show up and bite me in the ass
at the worst times. So, not only do I have to see the house I’ve longed to
avoid, I’ll actually have to go up and knock on the front door.
The only thing that makes it slightly more
bearable is knowing she won’t be there. Her parents had to have sold the house
years ago, judging by the state of the yard. Mrs. Hadley would die of
embarrassment if she saw the weeds currently occupying her prized flower beds.
Plus, Mr. and Mrs. Hadley were like the fucking Cleavers back in the day.
There’s no way in hell I’d have been called to their house for a domestic
dispute if they were still living here. I’m pretty sure they never argued about
a single thing in their entire marriage.
I pop the car into park and radio Becky to
let her know I’m on the scene. After she assures me that backup can be here in
a few minutes if I need it—eliciting a roll of the eyes from me—I climb out of
the cruiser and approach the porch. As always, it takes a step or two for my
stride to become comfortable after sitting for so long, but by the time I’m
climbing the front stairs, I know nobody will be able to detect a hitch in my
gait.
I knock softly on the front door. “Boulder
County Police.”
Author
Info:
Megan lives in Northern Utah with her
handsome hubby, Adam. When not writing, chances are you’ll find her curled up
with her Kindle. Besides reading and writing, she loves movies, animals,
chocolate, and coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. She loves hearing from readers,
so drop her a line!
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