Happy Tuesday guys!
So if you haven’t heard, I’ve decided to write a prequel novella for DAMIAN called The Heartbreaker!!! This is so exciting to me because I get to write a fun and crazy story of one of Damian’s “adventures” before he met our much loved Alexis! So the prequel will be released on Valentine’s Day, so everyone gets to enjoy some Damian before Taming Damian is released in early March.
Before you read the first teaser, you should check out the cover and synopsis for The Heartbreaker. You can also add The Heartbreaker on Goodreads here.
Here’s the teaser! Let me know what you think. 🙂
xo,
Jess
The Heartbreaker – TEASER #1
(UNEDITED AND SUBJECT TO CHANGE)
PROLOGUE
Eight Years Ago
“Damian, I don’t know what to say.” She avoided my gaze as she mumbled those words, her eyes darting from the floor to something past my shoulder and back to the floor.
“There’s nothing you can say,” I assured her bitterly. “The one and only thing I’d want you to say is the only thing I’d want to know from you—” I snorted at my comment as I fought back the angry tears, “—and that’s something you could never give me because you don’t know the answer.” I felt the bitter pain of her betrayal stab at me like shards of glass against raw exposed flesh.
I caught her eyes dart quickly past my shoulder again. This time, I turned and my eyes followed hers. I knew what she had been glancing at, but I turned to look anyway. We both stared at the half-opened front door that lead to the pitch-black darkness that seemed to swallow up the world outside of this house—outside of the lowest moment of my life. We were both looking at the same door in front of us, and yet what we saw was something completely different. She saw her freedom and escape while I saw her betrayal and abandonment.
“If you want to leave, no one is stopping you.” I noticed her wince at my stone-cold words.
“I don’t …” Her voice was low and unconvincing. I knew she wanted to be anywhere but here where she had to face the truth of her actions.
There was a long, still silence that seemed to stretch on forever. It lasted so long that the heavy silence morphed into a sound of its own, and it was no longer truly silent anymore. I could hear my heart still pounding violently against my chest, even though my breathing had gone back to normal.
“Were you ever planning on telling me?” I finally cut through the silence.
She finally looked up at me, and I saw the regret in her eyes. “No.” Her words were cold and sharp. “I didn’t want to believe that it was true.”
“Do you not care about the truth?” I heard myself whisper the words. I couldn’t stop myself from holding those words in. Even though I was 19 years old, it was as if I was thrown back into my role as a child again, desperately seeking approval from the one woman I have ever loved in my life: my mother.
“I-Damian, honey, it’s not that simple.” Her answer was too much for me to bear. I grabbed my coat and walked towards the door—the same door the man I thought was my father all my life had just left through thirty minutes before.
“It’s very simple, mom. You lied to me. You lied and cheated on the man—who up until today—I thought was my father. You slept with enough men while you were married that you can’t even tell me who my real father is.”
She looked away from me again. “The doctors had said that I was likely infertile. That worked well for me. I never really wanted to have children. I didn’t think I’d get pregnant when I was involved with the different men. I … I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t plan for anyone to get hurt.”
“You mean, you didn’t mean for me to happen! But it did happen and people did get hurt. I got hurt, mom!” I felt the rage course through me and overtake me, and before I could stop myself, I spat out the one thing that had been racing through my mind. “Why did you have to be such a whore?”
I saw the hurt in her eyes as my words sunk in. “Let’s not pretend like I’ve ever been any kind of mother to you. You loved your nanny more than you’ve ever loved me. You can’t be that hurt.”
“That’s not true. You’re my mother.” My anger instantly turned into sorrow in response to her
“Sometimes it seems easier to be a whore instead,” she whispered as she turned away from me.
Before tears left my eyes, I stormed out the front door and rang out into the bitter cold darkness.
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