Release Date: September 23, 2014
Regret . . . she’s a snarky little bitch.
I’ve tried several times to regret the events that took place on June 5, 2008, but for the life of me, I can’t. I’d never regret the pain, the suffering, or the heartache because they ultimately led me to the place I am now. And I can’t regret the place I am now. What I still can’t figure out is this: how is it possible that the single worst day of my life inadvertently became the very best day?
Five years ago my life was irrevocably changed.
Seventeen minutes was all it took—
to lose my best friend…
to lose the love of my life…
Seventeen minutes was all it took for the seeds of hope—the seeds of my future—to be planted in the worst possible way.
My name is Harley Thompson, and this is my story.
I loved the original cover, but the new one is equally as gorgeous! Have you read the prologue of Where We Belong? This is the reason why I had to read this book! You can also read my review here.
“Okay. First of all,” she says, waving her fork in the air, “don’t ever say that again! Balls are not strong. Growing a set of balls will not make you stronger. Now, a vagina, that’s strong. Take your vagina, for example. You pushed out a ten-pound baby without a lick of medicine. That,” she shoves a bite in her mouth, “is a strong vagina. You’ve got like the superhero of all vaginas!” I’m at a loss for words. Quinn is known for her random rants, but this is way off-the-wall. I keep staring. What the hell do I say to that? She’s right. My vagina freakin’ rocks!
A deep cough sounds behind me and I turn around to see a woman about my age, slapping her husband on the back. Said husband is looking at Quinn and I with a horrified expression and an extremely red face. I can’t help but smile when his obviously pregnant wife slides out of the booth, tosses some money on the table, and high-fives me on her way out of the diner.
K.L. Grayson resides in a small town outside of St. Louis, Missouri. She is entertained daily by her extraordinary husband who will forever inspire every good quality she writes in a man. Her entire life rests in the palm of six dirty little hands, and when the days is over and those six little hands have been washed and tucked into bed . . . and the stars align, you can find K.L. typing away furiously on her computer. K.L. has a love for alpha males, brownies, reading, tattoos, sunglasses, and happy endings . . . and not particularly in that order.