When I Think of You
Rosa Sophia
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Blurb: When Nina Archer dreamt of Wes Ladner, they were both in Florida, both runners, both writers, and both passionately attracted to each other.
After
a year and a half, Nina is growing accustomed to a new life in Kill
Devil Hills, North Carolina, and though she feels as if something is
missing, she doesn’t think she will ever return to the place of her
birth. Despite this, she soon discovers she not only misses Florida, but
she is not so sure running away was the best idea.
Wes
is the man who helped Nina learn to be intimate, but a disagreement
between them seems to have finalized the idea they will never be
together.
While Wes’s career is on the rise, and his
novel is about to become a bestseller, Nina explores her inner self
while attempting to let go of her fears and accept the fact that she is
worth it and deserves love.
Will Nina and Wes find each other again, or will they ignore the dreams they’ve had?
When
I Dream of You brought them together. When I Think of You continues
their story as they try to decide if their dreams come from something
substantial, or if they are nothing more than fantasy.
Excerpt
I know it isn’t over the moment I smell the salty air, breathe in the silence of Juno Beach at two in the morning. And like that night so many months ago, the stars are clearer than anything I’ve ever seen before. I walk the road that runs along the beach, then stand for a moment and close my eyes, trying to spot the differences between here and the place I’d come from only hours before. They are innumerable, but noticeable only to someone who is paying very close attention to the way the waves hit the sand, the way the lone car slides slowly past, headlights piercing the darkness.
Juno is unique, like nowhere else; there is something different about the sensations that fill me as I stand there. The drive from the Outer Banks of North Carolina was a long one, but it was liberating. I once believed I would never return to the place of my birth, but the universe had other plans. I cannot help but think there’s a reason I’m supposed to be here.
Stepping past the sea grapes and down onto the sand, I pull off my sneakers as I recall my favorite difference between here and there: the texture of the sand. Here, it’s so much softer, and I know without having to see it that it is a tan color, not like the sand in the Outer Banks which is often much coarser, turning almost orange when the tide comes in washing up tiny rocks and shells.
To my left, Juno Pier sits steadfast and still, a hulking giant in the night reaching out over the ocean. If I hadn’t flipped on the small pocket flashlight I carry with me, I would have stepped on the man-o-war jellyfish on the sand, spread out like an amoeba, its bright tentacles reaching for the ocean it might never return to.
It is trapped, like I’d been for so long. I recoil, horrified, not wanting to get stung. I don’t know what that kind of pain is like. Backing up, I jog toward the road again, keeping the little beam of light on the path before me. Once back on the sidewalk, I tug my socks and shoes back on and stretch my arms toward the sky, feeling the soft hot breeze against my exposed flesh. In my running shorts and tank top, I can’t resist; with the rushing of the ocean to my right,
I begin to run. I run, and run, and run along the sidewalk. There is nothing like running; the simple action of moving swiftly through the heavy air has saved my life many times over. How often I ran from emotion, from turmoil that plagued me day in and day out.
I ran, ran, ran—but I never escaped.
Now I’m running on the pavement, breathing in and out with such ease it amazes me. I raise my arms to shield my eyes from the blinding headlights, squinting until stars pop in my vision. I expect the car to keep going and disappear in the distance, but instead it slows and creeps nearer.
For a brief moment, I am perplexed as I hear the car door open and shut. Then—
“Nina?”
Blinking, I lower my arm, my chest still heaving with breath, sweat coating my skin. At first, all I see is a silhouette, but the voice is so familiar. I cannot deny the lump forming in my throat, the way my heart leaps and heat rushes to the pit of my stomach.
Only one person can make my body thrum with this perpetual desire, an ache just as heavy as the heat around me. At one time I was sure I would never see him again, especially since it seemed so certain we couldn’t make it work between us.
I step into the light, I see his face, the corners of his lips twitching upward in recognition.
“Wes?”
Juno is unique, like nowhere else; there is something different about the sensations that fill me as I stand there. The drive from the Outer Banks of North Carolina was a long one, but it was liberating. I once believed I would never return to the place of my birth, but the universe had other plans. I cannot help but think there’s a reason I’m supposed to be here.
Stepping past the sea grapes and down onto the sand, I pull off my sneakers as I recall my favorite difference between here and there: the texture of the sand. Here, it’s so much softer, and I know without having to see it that it is a tan color, not like the sand in the Outer Banks which is often much coarser, turning almost orange when the tide comes in washing up tiny rocks and shells.
To my left, Juno Pier sits steadfast and still, a hulking giant in the night reaching out over the ocean. If I hadn’t flipped on the small pocket flashlight I carry with me, I would have stepped on the man-o-war jellyfish on the sand, spread out like an amoeba, its bright tentacles reaching for the ocean it might never return to.
It is trapped, like I’d been for so long. I recoil, horrified, not wanting to get stung. I don’t know what that kind of pain is like. Backing up, I jog toward the road again, keeping the little beam of light on the path before me. Once back on the sidewalk, I tug my socks and shoes back on and stretch my arms toward the sky, feeling the soft hot breeze against my exposed flesh. In my running shorts and tank top, I can’t resist; with the rushing of the ocean to my right,
I begin to run. I run, and run, and run along the sidewalk. There is nothing like running; the simple action of moving swiftly through the heavy air has saved my life many times over. How often I ran from emotion, from turmoil that plagued me day in and day out.
I ran, ran, ran—but I never escaped.
Now I’m running on the pavement, breathing in and out with such ease it amazes me. I raise my arms to shield my eyes from the blinding headlights, squinting until stars pop in my vision. I expect the car to keep going and disappear in the distance, but instead it slows and creeps nearer.
For a brief moment, I am perplexed as I hear the car door open and shut. Then—
“Nina?”
Blinking, I lower my arm, my chest still heaving with breath, sweat coating my skin. At first, all I see is a silhouette, but the voice is so familiar. I cannot deny the lump forming in my throat, the way my heart leaps and heat rushes to the pit of my stomach.
Only one person can make my body thrum with this perpetual desire, an ache just as heavy as the heat around me. At one time I was sure I would never see him again, especially since it seemed so certain we couldn’t make it work between us.
I step into the light, I see his face, the corners of his lips twitching upward in recognition.
“Wes?”
Buy Links:
Amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/When-Think-You-Rosa-Sophia/dp/1507533403/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1422897839&sr=8-
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/when-i-think-of-you-rosa-sophia/1121112977?ean=9781507533406
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/when-i-think-of-you-rosa-sophia/1121112977?ean=9781507533406
Rosa Sophia is a novelist and a full-time editorial
consultant. With a degree in Automotive
Technology, she adores writing and editing as well as fixing cars. Rosa is also a crazy cat lady in training,
and currently divides her time between South Florida and Pennsylvania.
Author Links:
Website: http://www.authorrosasophia.com
Website: http://www.authorrosasophia.com
Facebook page: www.facebook.com/editing.by.rosa.sophia
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4116872.Rosa_Sophia?from_search=true
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Rosa-Sophia/e/B0040NN5W8/ref=dp_byline_cont_book_1
No comments:
Post a Comment