A Flawed Heart Read online

  A FLAWED HEART

  April Emerson

  Erotic Romance

  Secret Cravings Publishing

  www.secretcravingspublishing.com

  ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

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  A Secret Cravings Publishing Book

  Erotic Romance

  A Flawed Heart

  Copyright © 2014 April Emerson

  E-book ISBN: 9781-63105-253-8

  First E-book Publication: July 2014

  Cover design by Jada D’Lee

  Edited by Leslie Fish

  Proofread by Courtney Karmiller

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2014 by Secret Cravings Publishing

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Secret Cravings Publishing

  www.secretcravingspublishing.com

  Dedication

  For my flawless husband.

  The Cravings Ebook Club

  The Cravings Paranormal Ebook Club

  Have you heard about the newest idea in ebooks, the ebook club? Secret Cravings Publishing has two ebook clubs, The Cravings Ebook Club or the Cravings Paranormal Ebook Club, and we invite you to become a member.

  As a new member, you will receive Trouble With a Cowboy* by Sandy Sullivan and Blood Kisses** by H.N. Sieverding FREE, just for joining!

  You’ll also receive 4 BRAND-NEW EBOOKS, specially selected by our Editorial Director, every month in a variety of genres for a total price of only $9.99 for all 4. This comes out to barely $2.50 per book, much less than the retail price and you’ll be able to enjoy your books even before they are uploaded to the popular sales sites. One of several privileges of club membership.

  *Trouble With a Cowboy, a western, erotic romance:

  18 wheels had her heart until one hard-up cowboy found her kickin' up her heels and propositions her to take his bull to Vegas.

  Jacie Hawkins drives big wheelers for a livin'. Something not a lot of women do. Littleton Oklahoma is just a dry stopover for a few hours of rest and relaxation at the nearest bar. Jacie needs to find a hot cowboy to release some of her pent up frustrations on for the night, but wannabe's aren't her style.

  Tucker Marshall needs a big-rig driver to haul his prize bull to National Finals Rodeo and he needs one fast. Who would have thought he'd find one shootin' pool at the local bar dressed to kill and takin' numbers?

  Can some slashed tires and an ornery bull bring two hard-headed people together for some fun in the sun and a little more?

  **Blood Kisses (Nightwalkers 1), paranormal erotic romance:

  Ashleigh Brown, the author of the popular Nightwalkers series, lives a quiet life free of the limelight. She keeps her real identity secret by writing under the pen name, Victoria Allure. She soon finds herself in a bind when she's kidnapped by a group of handsome vampires seeking Victoria. She then agrees to meet their Master, who's a huge fan of her books. But instead of meeting him, she accidentally crosses paths with her rock star crush. He is the sexy muse behind Nightwalkers and the man she based the hero in the series upon. She would do anything to meet him but little does she know her crush has a secret...

  We will try to match your books to your preferences, however, if you’re a major paranormal fan, we suggest you join the Cravings Paranormal Club. Everything is the same except that three of your four books will be paranormal. The remaining book will be of a different genre.

  As a club member, you will also receive:

  · our monthly newsletter

  · sneak previews of new books

  · exclusive interviews with your favorite authors

  · special offers not available to the general public

  To join, visit the Secret Cravings Publishing website. At the bottom of the page you’ll see a button for the club. You can sign up there and share your preferences for genre, format and heat level with us. You will be charged, automatically, through PayPal, only $9.99 every month. Your books will be shipped within 1 day after PayPal payment has cleared. You may cancel at any time by clicking on the “unsubscribe” button located on the Cravings Club tab at the bottom of our website and keep the FREE BOOKS as our gift.

  We hope our Secret Cravings books will delight you each and every month.

  Best wishes,

  Beth Walker

  A FLAWED HEART

  April Emerson

  Copyright © 2014

  Chapter One

  It’s hotter than the hinges of hell. Moss-covered branches older than some cities bend low over the dirt driveway, offering much needed shade. The damp fabric of my tank top sticks to me, and the balmy breeze does nothing to cool my skin. The ice has completely melted in my sweet tea, and it’s turned into a lukewarm, flavorless liquid. I’m sitting on the porch of the home I grew up in, and this is the last day I will spend here. My bags are packed and my room is empty.

  I can hear her in the kitchen—my mama—slamming cabinets harder than she needs to. She’s unhappy that I’m leaving, but it’s time for me to go. It’s been only me and her since my daddy lost his life. She loves me with a ferocity most wouldn’t understand. Her sister Louise—our only other relative—came to live with us after my father passed. I can’t feel guilty about this. I’m ready for something new. Tomorrow I trade this Georgia heat for the grit of New York City.

  It’s not easy, me leaving. I’ve not seen much of the world outside of Savannah, but I know in my soul that this isn’t my home. Like snow in the summertime, I don’t belong here.

  * * * *

  I wander through LaGuardia with my luggage. I’m on the edge of having one of my attacks, so I pull my out my prescription and wash the Xanax down with the last drips in my bottle of water. It stinks here, and bodies rush around me. In my attempt to get out of this hellish place, I’ve been stepped on twice and elbowed once. Finally, I find what I’m looking for—the exit.

  I step through the sliding door and pull out my cigarettes—a filthy habit that I picked up in college. My mama hates it, but she’s not here to scold me. I don’t have a light, so I ask the guy at the taxi stand. He looks me up and down, and I catch him staring at my cleavage. No southern gentleman would ogle me the way this man just has. Choosing to move here wasn’t easy, and a small part of me knows I’m not as brave as I pretend to be. I take the light he offers with a shaking hand.

 
I dart my eyes around as I smoke, searching for my ride—my ride and my new roommate, Lydia Taylor. From our email exchanges I know she’s an artist—a sculptor. From our phone conversations I know she’s energetic, and from Skype I know that she’s beautiful—big eyes and a gloriously white smile. When I see her in person I realize just how pretty and enthusiastic she really is. I put my hand out for her to shake it but she hugs me instead, as if we’ve been friends since the day the lord made us.

  “If you’re crazy enough to find a roommate on Craigslist, then I think we should skip formalities,” she says.

  I follow her toward a black Dodge Charger. Every good ole boy I grew up with wanted one of these so they could zoom around like the Dukes of Hazard. “Nice car,” I say.

  “Oh, thanks, but it’s my brother’s.”

  She helps me put my luggage in the trunk, starts the car, and tears out of the parking lot, honking at a cab driver and giving him the finger as he tries to cut her off. I quickly buckle my seatbelt and my mouth goes dry.

  Lydia gives me a smile. “Welcome to New York.”

  She currently lives with her daddy on the upper west side of Manhattan, right near the Museum of Natural History. The building is huge and beautiful. The doorman takes my bags and helps us into the elevator. We stop on the eighteenth floor. Lydia’s childhood home is a penthouse. The elevator door opens right into the living room, and I’m stunned by the view. Large windows look right out into Central Park. It’s breathtaking. The apartment is decorated in a clean and modern fashion. Expensive looking paintings cover the walls, and a baby grand piano is set in the center of the room.

  “Hello, Claire. Welcome to our home. I’m Daniel.”

  Lydia’s daddy has ice blue eyes, and he’s as charming as cherry pie. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, and thank you for having me,” I say, shaking his hand.

  “Lydia, why don’t you show Claire around, and then we can get some dinner?”

  She walks me down a long hallway and into a bedroom. The room is stark white, but the bed has a black comforter and a dozen pillows. One wall is completely covered in books. On the opposite wall are shelves lined with hundreds of records, cassettes, and CDs. The wall that the bed is against has huge floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the park.

  “Lydia, your room is incredible.”

  “Actually this is my brother Jason’s room, but you’ll be staying in here tonight.”

  I’m confused about why she never told me she had a brother. She was so friendly in our emails and seemed so eager to share the details of her life with me.

  “He’s a musician. He lives in Brooklyn, and his apartment isn’t far from the one we’re moving into. He and my dad don’t really get along. My dad wanted him to go to college…it’s a whole tangled thing. I don’t like to share my family demons. That’s why I never told you.”

  “I get it. My family has demons, too.”

  “Well, make yourself comfortable. The bathroom is down the hall, if you want to shower or anything. I’m gonna go change for dinner.” She rubs my shoulder, gives me a smile, and leaves.

  I scan Jason’s bookshelves—Shakespeare’s collected works, Melville, Emerson, Kafka, Walt Whitman, and Dostoyevsky. I run my fingers down the bindings with appreciation. My attention turns to a record player in pristine condition and a pair of expensive, noise-canceling headphones, not to mention an insane amount of music—The Stones, Iggy and The Stooges, The Ramones, Black Sabbath, Roy Orbison, Johnny Cash, Guns and Roses, The Mammas and The Papas, The Velvet Underground…Jason is a true music lover. Down south, no one ever shared my taste in music. I was the lone wolf, listening to rock while everyone else enjoyed country.

  There aren’t many photographs in the room, but near his bed I spot a frame. Inside the chrome frame is a black-and-white picture of a woman holding a bouquet of lilies and laughing. She has soft eyes, and just by looking at the picture I can tell she’s the kind of person who hugs and kisses everyone she meets. I find myself wondering if that’s Jason’s girlfriend, but she looks too old. I chastise myself for being so nosy.

  * * * *

  Lydia, Daniel, and I take a cab to Midtown, and eat at an expensive sushi restaurant. I let them advise me on what to order, but I don’t confess to never having tried sushi before. Afterward, we go for a walk and get ice cream from a truck. The buildings around me are enormous, and I feel so insignificant compared to their overwhelming size. I would be lost here if it weren’t for Lydia and Daniel. I really enjoy being with them. They’re easygoing and they make me feel welcome. Daniel asks about my plans for the future and I do my best to sound as if I know what I want out of life. I always wanted to become an English teacher, but I’m still uncertain about what I will ultimately do with my degree.

  When we return to the penthouse, Lydia mentions that we have an early start in the morning. I say goodnight and head to Jason’s room.

  The moon is bright, and it shines through the window. Combined with the lights of the city, there’s enough illumination for me to change and get into bed. I sink into the feathery comforter and look out on the city. I’m buzzing—electrified at beginning this new chapter in my life. I catch my reflection in the huge window. I’m lying in a strange man’s bed, in a strange city, and I couldn’t be more excited. The pillows smell like detergent and cologne. I get distracted by the smell of Jason. My mind wanders and I begin to dream of what he would be like—a nerdy bookworm—a sexy musician…

  I’m not sure if it’s the city or the excitement of this new adventure, but my thoughts are wrought with images of the man who owns this bed. I don’t often indulge desires, but my hands find their way down my body and my fantasy about Lydia’s sexy, bookworm, musician brother gets the better of me. Lying in the darkness, I’m a little ashamed, but I giggle softly to myself. If I ever meet Lydia’s brother I’m going to have a hard time looking him in the eye.

  * * * *

  I wake to the sun shining through Jason’s windows, and look at the clock. Six thirty. We need to be in Brooklyn by seven thirty to meet the moving truck. I grumble as I rise. It was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a while.

  After I shower and dress, I find Lydia and Daniel eating bagels and drinking coffee in the kitchen. They look so happy to be together, chatting and eating. It makes me miss my daddy.

  “Good morning, Claire.” Daniel greets me with a smile.

  “How did you sleep? Are you hungry? Do you want a bagel? I made coffee.” Lydia is peppy as ever, and clearly a morning person.

  “Yes, I slept great, thanks. I’d love a bagel and some coffee.”

  Lydia hops off the kitchen stool and busies herself making my breakfast. “We should leave as soon as we’re done eating. I can’t wait to get to Brooklyn! Though I do love the city…and being with my dad, of course.” Lydia winks at Daniel and places my plate and mug in front of me.

  After I eat, I head up to Jason’s room to make the bed and gather my things. I bid farewell to the ultra comfy dreamland, and blush remembering my crazy fantasy of Jason last night.

  * * * *

  Lydia and I drive over the Williamsburg Bridge, blasting music through the Charger’s speakers. She tells me about our apartment building.

  “It’s all brick, like you saw in the photos, but the people there make it warm. I only recently moved some of my stuff in, but there’s a great sense of community. It’s mostly artists and college grads like us, all hanging out and trying to hold down jobs. My brother is playing a show tonight. You want to go?”

  “What kind of a show?”

  “Like a music show. What do you call it in the south?”

  “A concert.”

  “Well, he’s just playing at a little dive bar, so I wouldn’t say it was a concert. But yeah, that’s the idea.”

  “What kind of music does he play?”

  “Rock. He plays guitar and piano. He writes his own songs, but he plays a lot of covers because people respond to that—singing along, dancing, you know. He�
��s got a bit of a following. I always make fun of him for having groupies. He saves most of his original material for recording. It’s intimidating how much he knows about music, actually. Sometimes it’s obnoxious.”

  “So, are y’all close?”

  “Yeah we’re very close. We always have been. We’re only a year apart, and we grew closer after our mom died.”

  In our emails, Lydia had told me her mama died of cancer three years ago. We bonded over the fact that we have the loss of a parent in common. I stare out the window thinking of how nice it must have been to have a sibling to go through it with. Then I realize that the black-and-white photo of the woman with the lilies, by Jason’s bed, is not a girlfriend but his mother.

  “Jason definitely changed after mom died. He fought with my dad a lot. I don’t know if he blamed him for not doing enough, or maybe it’s because my dad really wanted to see Jason use his intelligence in a capacity other than music. I don’t know why they fight so much. I love them both and I hate it.” Lydia gets quiet and puts her hand to head.

  This topic is hurting her, and I know the feeling, so I change the subject. “I’m looking forward to the show tonight. Maybe we can walk around the neighborhood and grab some dinner first?”

  “Yeah, definitely. There’s someone I want you to meet first, though.”

  We search for a parking spot for at least thirty minutes, and I’m hypnotized by the amount of people and lights and noise. I absorb as much as I can. The thrill of seeing this part of the city is dampened only by Lydia’s reckless driving. She changes lanes without putting on her blinker, and honks and shouts at almost everyone. I try to conceal my fear, but she senses it. “Relax, sweetie. If you don’t feel a chill of terror while driving on the streets of Brooklyn, then you’re just not doing it right.”