Tru Blue & The Secrets in My Scowl

Tru Blue

Wow, just wow!!  

Would you go to prison for your brother?  Would you sacrifice everything for the only family you have left?  I was so heart broken for Truman.  His early life was really crappy and but he still gave all for the love of his siblings.  When he finally though his life could find a happy medium, he finds himself the father he never had.  There is nothing sexier than a big tattooed hunk with a baby or two.  

Gemma is the answer to his prayers whether he knows it or not and it is a match made in heaven.  They just fit.

 

Imagine falling in love with a man, then finding out he was a killer…TRU BLUE is a sexy, dark stand-alone novel written in the same loving, raw, and emotional voice romance readers have come to love, and the deeply emotional literary prose women’s fiction readers have come to expect, from New York Times & USA Today bestselling, award-winning author Melissa Foster. 

He wore the skin of a killer, and bore the heart of a lover…

There’s nothing Truman Gritt won’t do to protect his family–Including spending years in jail for a crime he didn’t commit. When he’s finally released, the life he knew is turned upside down by his mother’s overdose, and Truman steps in to raise the children she’s left behind. Truman’s hard, he’s secretive, and he’s trying to save a brother who’s even more broken than he is. He’s never needed help in his life, and when beautiful Gemma Wright tries to step in, he’s less than accepting. But Gemma has a way of slithering into people’s lives and eventually she pierces through his ironclad heart. When Truman’s dark past collides with his future, his loyalties will be tested, and he’ll be faced with his toughest decision yet.

 

 
 
TRUMAN GRITT LOCKED the door to Whiskey Automotive and stepped into the stormy September night. Sheets of rain blurred his vision, instantly drenching his jeans and T-shirt. A slow smile crept across his face as he tipped his chin up, soaking in the shower of freedom. He made his way around the dark building and climbed the wooden stairs to the deck outside his apartment. He could have used the interior door, but after being behind bars for six long years, Truman took advantage of the small pleasures he’d missed out on, like determining his own schedule, deciding when to eat and drink, and standing in the f**king rain if he wanted to. He leaned on the rough wooden railing, ignoring the splinters of wood piercing his tattooed forearms, squinted against the wetness, and scanned the cars in the junkyard they used for parts—and he used to rid himself of frustrations. He rested his leather boot on the metal box where he kept his painting supplies. Truman didn’t have much—his old extended-cab truck, which his friend Bear Whiskey had held on to for him while he was in prison, this apartment, and a solid job, both of which were compliments of the Whiskey family. The only family he had anymore.
 
Emotions he didn’t want to deal with burned in his gut, causing his chest to constrict. He turned to go inside, hoping to outrun thoughts of his own f**ked-up family, whom he’d tried—and failed—to save. His cell phone rang with his brother’s ringtone, “A Beautiful Lie” by 30 Seconds to Mars.
 
“F**k,” he muttered, debating letting the call go to voicemail, but six months of silence from his brother was a long time. Rain pelleted his back as he pressed his palm to the door to steady himself. The ringing stopped, and he blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d trapped inside. The phone rang again, and he froze.
 
He’d just freed himself from the dredges of hell that he’d been thrown into in an effort to save his brother. He didn’t need to get wrapped up in whatever mess the drug-addicted fool had gotten himself into. The call went to voicemail, and Truman eyed the metal box containing his painting supplies. Breathing like he’d been in a fight, he wished he could paint the frustration out of his head. When the phone rang for the third time in as many minutes, the third time since he was released from prison six months ago, he reluctantly answered.
 
“Quincy.” He hated the way his brother’s name came out sounding like the enemy. Quincy had been just a kid when Truman went to prison. Heavy breathing filled the airwaves. The hairs on Truman’s forearms and neck stood on end. He knew fear when he heard it. He could practically taste it as he ground his teeth together.
 
“I need you,” his brother’s tortured voice implored.
 
Need me? Truman had hunted down his brother after he was released from prison, and when he’d finally found him, Quincy was so high on crack he was nearly incoherent—but it didn’t take much for f**k off to come through loud and clear. What Quincy needed was rehab, but Truman knew from his tone that wasn’t the point of the call.
 
Before he could respond, his brother croaked out, “It’s Mom. She’s really bad.”
 

 
Melissa Foster is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling and award-winning author. She writes sexy and heartwarming contemporary romance, new adult romance (M/F, M/M, F/F), romantic suspense, thrillers, and historical fiction with emotionally compelling characters that stay with you long after you turn the last page. Melissa’s emotional journeys are lovingly erotic and always family oriented. Her books have been recommended by USA Today’s book blog, Hagerstown Magazine, The Patriot, and several other print venues. She is the founder of the World Literary Café. When she’s not writing, Melissa helps authors navigate the publishing industry through her author training programs on Fostering Success.

Melissa has painted and donated several murals to The Hospital for Sick Children in Washington, DC. Her interests include her family, reading, writing, painting, friends, helping others see the positive side of life, and visiting Cape Cod.

Melissa is available to chat with book clubs and welcomes comments and emails from her readers. Visit Melissa on Facebook or her personal website.

Never miss a brand new release, special promotions or inside gossip again by simply signing up to receive your newsletter from Melissa.
 
 
 
 

 

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The Secrets in My Scowl

 

The fine line between love and hate are blurred and then erased between not only the two men of this story, but also Jacob’s mind.  He learns not to hate others or himself. Wylde is the sun to the storm that has clouded Jacob’s life.  He is sweet yet doesn’t let people take advantage.  This story has a lot of heart.

 

secrets-inmy-scowl-customdesign-jayaheer2016-finalcoverSynopsis

Sparks ignite and tempers flare when a sexy, optimistic wedding planner moves his business in across the hall from a jilted, divorce lawyer’s practice. 

“Look smart ass. This is the last time I’m going to remind you about breaking sections of the lease. If there’s a next time, I won’t stop until you and your frilly, white wedding shit is thrown out of here. Do you got it?!” 

Wylde looked in Jacob’s pained eyes and answered in his deep voice. “Yeah, counselor. I got it.” 

From high school, up until he became a successful attorney Jacob Snowden was convinced that love had it out for him. “Everyone left,” were the words he lived by. His mother, his high school sweetheart, his father, and his fiancé, all left Jacob just when he felt it was safe to let down his guard. Not any longer. Jacob was a determined man, set at keeping people at a distance. If his six foot one, military-made body didn’t scare people off, his permanent scowl surely did. At almost forty, Jacob’s social life was non-existent, but he told himself his work fulfilled him. He helped people get out of their loveless marriages. Jacob Snowden was one of the best divorce lawyers on the east coast and was damn proud of it. So, imagine his disdain when a wedding planner moves into the suite directly adjacent to his… an insanely masculine, male wedding planner. 

Wylde Sterling had made quite a name for himself in his hometown of Roanoke, Virginia, working for a wedding planner that catered to the elite. He was known for his charm and impeccable taste. Yep, he was incredible at giving couples the wedding of their dreams. But he wanted nothing more than to plan his own. After striking out in love more times than he cared to admit, Wylde decided to start his own business in a new city, hoping Richmond would give him a fresh start. Things started out wonderfully – until he started to piss off the angry divorce attorney next door. 

Wylde could see past Jacob’s mean scowl, knowing there was a reason for it. It was the man’s defense mechanism, his means of keeping people away. Everything in Wylde told him to stay away, but he believed Jacob just needed to meet a man who had been hurt as badly as he had.

This story ends in an HEA and does not end on a cliffhanger.

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ae-author-pic

Meet the Author

A.E. Via is an author in the beautiful gay romance genre and also founder and owner of Via Star Wings Books. Her writing embodies everything from hopelessly romantic to adventure, to scandalous. Her stories often include intriguing edges and twists that take readers to new, thought-provoking depths.

When she’s not clicking away at her laptop, she devotes herself to her family—a husband and four children. Adrienne Via has tons of more stories to tell, but she really would like to hear yours. Via Star Wings Books is currently accepting submissions for established and aspiring LGBTQ authors.

Visit my site to learn more! Go to A.E. Via’s official website http://authoraevia.com for more detailed information on how to contact her, follow her, or a sneak peak on upcoming work, free reads, VSWB submissions, and where she’ll appear next.

                                                            Author Links

                                       

A.E. Bloghttp://authoraevia.com/blogfann.html

Excerpt

Wylde was nose deep in his computer, sucking on a green lollipop while he noted the few changes he wanted Dennis to make on the website, when he heard a ruckus on the other side of the wall. It sounded like someone moving items in the hall. He looked at his watch, noticing it was already after seven. Shit. The time went by so fast. Still not really registering the commotion, Wylde went back to his computer. Not five seconds later he heard the door to the front room burst open and a strong, masculine voice reached his ears.

“I thought I was pretty clear earlier when I asked you not to leave your damn trash in the hallway. I almost broke my neck. Not only is the same crap still out there but you had the audacity to double it.”

Wylde quickly got up and opened his office door and took in the large man standing in front of Mikki, glaring down at her. All Wylde could see was the man’s broad back and wide shoulders beneath a very expensive-looking black trench coat. His voice was getting deeper as he spoke, as if he was just a breath from yelling.

“If I have to tell you one more time, my next call will be to the property manager. Do you got it?” the man barked at his best friend. Wylde had heard enough.

“Is that the way you always speak to a lady?” Wylde asked calmly, his own voice just as deep as the man a few feet from him. But when the man turned around, Wylde’s composure slipped for a split second when he realized exactly what’d had Mikki gushing earlier. The lawyer was maybe an inch taller than Wylde’s own six feet, but he was wider and a lot more muscular. His jaw was locked tight and his forehead was creased in an angry frown. His lips were light peach and the bottom one was fuller than the top, but the lawyer was so angry those plush lips were pulled into a taut, thin line. Wylde didn’t miss the surprised look as the lawyer cast his dark eyes down Wylde’s body then back up to his face. He smirked and gave the lawyer a slight curl of his lips.

“I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to your boss,” the lawyer snapped at him before spinning back on Mikki.

Wylde said his next words slowly. “Then turn back around, because she’s not the boss.”

“Excuse me?” the lawyer asked, his temper still revved up.

Wylde came to stand in front of Mikki, shielding her from any further angry comments, in turn putting himself very close to the handsome man. Wylde was quick to pick up on how much body heat was wafting off the tall lawyer and also the extremely masculine smell that worked its way up Wylde’s nose and down to his balls. “I’m Wylde Sterling. The woman behind me is my office manager. If you have any problems, you’ll need to address them to me from here on.” Then Wylde threw the man’s words back at him. “Do you got it?”

The stare-off was intense and Wylde didn’t back down. He was not easily intimidated and he needed to set the man straight about bullying his staff, whether Mikki got off on it or not. “I apologize about the trash. There seem to be some kinks in the sanitation department, because I’ve called several times for a pick-up.”

“I don’t give a fat fucker’s ass how many times you called,” the man snarled, his voice turning as dark as his inky glare. “Move it out the hallway.”

Wylde couldn’t help but wonder if the lawyer’s bite was as hot as his bark. Damn, this man was something else. He was really trying to rile him, but Wylde rarely lost his temper, and for good reason. Wylde clasped his hands behind his back and cast his eyes up, lowering his tone even further. “I’ll get right on top of that, counselor.”

The lawyer looked caught off guard and his mouth parted like he wanted to say something else but forgot what it was. He blinked and barked one last time. “I better not see that same trash in the morning.”

Wylde’s voice was almost a whisper now. “Of course. Anything else?” The lawyer’s head jerked back before he stormed off, leaving Wylde feeling some type of way, but he wasn’t sure what that way was.

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Melissa Foster
Melissa Foster
November 13, 2016 9:26 pm

I’m so happy you enjoyed Tru Blue! Thank you for taking the time to read and review XOXO