From the Author
REVIEWS
"I felt like I was shot through the heart and author Annie Arcane is to blame as she tells a frustratingly beautiful and sweet tale of what real love is, warts and all." -Tome Tender ★★★★★
"Real. Beautiful. Heartbreaking still..." -Zee ★★★★★
"Annie's writing is once again, captivating, beautiful, hilarious, and unique - all in one. It was so easy to fall into the minds of the characters, and the dialogue and thoughts were all so witty and hilarious." -Ethereal Pages ★★★★★
"There's no one like Annie Arcane in romance land today. Her writing style is unique and fresh." -Romance Rehab ★★★★★
"It captivated my undivided attention until the very end and then, I wanted more." -TDC Book Reviews ★★★★★
"It wasn't always pretty, but it felt real. I also love Annie's writing style. She has a unique style that really pulls you into the mind of the characters." -Jilly ★★★★★
From the Inside Flap
HART OF HIS: A WOUNDED HERO ROMANCE (CALE & MICKEY, BOOK 2)
Excerpt containing spoilers
Gripping the countertop, I laid my head against the cool tiles and willed the damn thing to stop pounding. My head, not the counter. Given, I was currently in no condition to distinguish one from the other. Maybe they were both pounding. I couldn't actually tell the difference.
The only thing I knew for certain was that I felt like complete and utter shit. As if someone had jammed an ice pick six inches deep into the base of my skull and was prying it wide open.
Jesus Christ...
Splitting it right down the fucking middle.
That hurts.
I'm not even sure how I made it to the bathroom.
I'd woken up with my ears ringing and a jolt of blinding pain shooting straight up my spine. And the very first thought that had come to mind? The only thing I'd been even remotely concerned about?
Not waking her.
Which was no easy feat when I couldn't stop myself from shaking. And by the time I'd finally managed to transfer into my chair, I was already starting to see spots. I can vaguely recall navigating down the short hallway.
It's so damn hazy.
I can't even tell you how long I've been sitting here for. Mere seconds? Minutes? A whole hour? Yeah, I haven't a fucking clue.
And now I have to take a piss.
No, I can't physically "feel" it. I can't feel a single goddamn thing down there. But I do experience this distinct tingling sensation right below my navel whenever my bladder gets full.
Sexy, right?
In any case, I was fully aware that I'd have to relieve myself at some point. Soon. Fumbling a bit with the zippered pouch hanging behind my knees, I was able to retrieve what I needed.
Of course, I might have a slight issue.
My hands were trembling so badly I didn't actually trust them to insert a catheter into my dick at the moment without causing some serious damage.
Not that I had another choice.
Fuck.
Palming the sink basin, I pushed toward the toilet and lifted up the seat. It took me less than ten seconds to realize that I had an even bigger issue. Forget about inserting anything anywhere. I couldn't even open the fucking package. Because my fingers weren't cooperating. They simply refused to separate the clear film from the white plastic backing.
My traitorous body was staging a coup and I was fucked.
Closing my eyes because my vision had completely blurred anyway, I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and tried to breathe. Even that was becoming difficult.
I was completely fucked.
It couldn't possibly get any worse.
Except it did.
Because just as I was hitting rock bottom...
"Cale."
The floor fell through.
I felt her touch the back of my neck.
No.
Her hand was warm. So damn warm. Unnaturally warm.
No. No. No.
Maybe I wasn't shaking, after all. Maybe I'd actually been shivering nonstop this entire time.
"Let me help."
"No." The harsh syllable ricocheted through my head, almost making me wretch.
"Yes."
"Get out." My words were slurred to shit. I sounded drunk off my ass.
"I'm not leaving."
My teeth were chattering incessantly too. Yeah, I was definitely cold. "Get the f-fuck out."
"I'm not leaving no matter how many f-bombs you drop, Cale."
"P-please."
"Or how much you beg."
This girl.
"Better together, remember?"
This damn girl.
I clenched my jaw tight, cringing as my teeth grated together like nails on a fucking chalkboard, and growled, "I don't want you to see me like this."
The feverish heat of her fingers traveled across my shoulder, down the entire length of my arm, banding around my wrist. Flipping my hand over. "I won't look."
She was placing something back in my grasp...
Fuuuck.
And then she was gone.
From the Back Cover
CALE & MICKEY
Book 1: Hart Broken
Book 2: Hart of His
Book 3: Hart of Hers
Book 4: Hart of Mine
About the Author
Romance with wounded heroes, disabled characters, alpha males, and angst.
Annie doesn't like long walks on the beach, getting dolled up, or HEA endings with a boringly perfect hero. She'd much rather be rock climbing, shooting guns, or ending on cliffhangers with a deliciously imperfect hero. And hugs. She likes hugs.
She also has a B.Sc. in Biology and feels kinda sorta weird referring to herself in 3rd person.
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