Book Title: Saving Leah Author: Misha Elliot Publisher: Booktrope
Genre: New Adult Release Date: September 22, 2015 Hosted by: #CBB ProductionsSometimes the only thing worse than revealing a painful secret is keeping it from the one who wants to save you. In time, fractured bones mend and torn flesh heals. But what about a fractured soul? Years of abuse have left Leah scared and broken, in solitude with the only symbol of the person she used to be-her violin. While in hiding, she never expected to meet the handsome and alluring Asher. Can he save her before all is lost or will her secrets become the death of her?
*WARNING* This book contains adult material including violence and sexual content intended for readers over the age of 18.
EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT : It’s just like riding a bicycle, your hands and body never forget what they are supposed to do, right? I slip it snug up against my throat, jaw on the chin rest. With fingers in place, I bring the bow down. As I slide it across the strings, I see the images of Ian and everything that happened. Hesitating to do something that once was second nature to me makes me feel weak. I shake my head no. “Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. I’m just not ready to fall flat on my face for a second time.” I hate that all Asher has seen so far of me is all of my weaknesses and fear. “And if you fall, I’ll be here to catch you.” He walks over toward me, hands stretched out. He pulls me up into a hug and begins kissing me. His kisses melt away every other thought, leaving me to only think of him. Our feet start to move like a dance. We turn, and he’s pushing me backward with each step he takes. I don’t know where we’re heading but we can’t get there soon enough. He swallows my soft moans as he tugs gently on my hair. My hands run over the crest of his strong shoulders, down those rippling muscular arms. God, how I’ve missed touching him. His hands snake down between us, and in a flash he lifts the dress up over my head, leaving me naked by the bay window. “There, that’s better.” He leads me over, instructing me to sit on the stool in front of where he’s standing, then sits behind me on the window seat. “Get ready to play. This time I don’t want you to think about how the notes are supposed to sound or what you know you should do. Just play what you feel. Show me how I make you feel,” he whispers seductively in my ear. Nerves on edge, I reposition myself to play. I’ve sat this way thousands of times, but this is so different. I am naked, totally exposing everything to him inside and out. The tips of his fingers softly caress the curve of my breasts, and goosebumps pucker the dark skin around my nipples. I make the first calm pass of the bow over the strings, and a sad, slow melody comes out. His fingers pluck at my nipples as he sucks and bites at the base of my neck. I imitate his movements and pluck several notes off the strings. There is an urgency inside me, and the bow slides up and down the strings as my fingers dance along the neck. The relentless pull of him on my body and the ache I feel for him hurries the melody along. “I love you, Leah.” He whispers over and over in my ear. My body shudders as he reaches up to stroke my nipples with his thumbs. After the first orgasm ripples through me, something changes. The melody I played that was mere dead notes, comes to life. With each touch, my fear and tough façade melt away. The familiar calm comes, smoothing the tense expression from my face. Finally, I close my eyes and give in to it. Each time the bow moves, I am pulling this heavenly sound from Asher’s heart and sliding it across the strings. He continues to kiss, suck, and nip tender parts of my ear and neck. His touch warms me, making my body pliable; the music fuels me as it flows wildly through my veins. I’m so caught up in the moment that I keep going. The notes come out of me from somewhere deep inside. I play for the little girl who lost so much of her life trying to make her parents happy; I play for the young woman who had the most private piece of her taken away; I play for Asher and everything he gave back to me; and when I played for just the joy of playing, I played for me.
Misha Elliott is an old movie watching, wine drinking, book-lover. Once a northerner she now calls the sweet state of Alabama her home. She can't remember a time when books weren't a part of her life. Writing gives her a reason to talk to the voices in her head. When she isn't writing you will find her talking about books with friends or at the beach with her toes in the sand.
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