Welcome to the Official Blog Tour for Jennifer Rebecca's Say a Sweet Prayer, book 3 in the Claire Goodnite series! Today, on our tour stop, we have an exclusive excerpt and a tour-wide giveaway! So... Check it out and grab your copy now!!!
Genre:
New Adult/Adult
Romantic Suspense
Series:
Claire Goodnite, #3
Publish Date:
August 6, 2018
Cover Designed by:
Alyssa Garcia at Uplifting Designs
Synopsis:
The sleepy little New Jersey township has been turned upside down as plans for the wedding of Claire Goodnite and Wesley O’Connell are in full swing. But when the patrons of the church’s singles group are being picked off one by one and branded with a scarlet letter—in blood—Claire and the team put their festivities on hold to track down a killer.
It’s just another case, another day in the life of a police officer until tragedy strikes their small circle of friends. When one of their own becomes one of the victims, how will the group go on? Or more importantly, can Claire survive it?
It’s probably best you say your prayers . . .
*Excerpt*
I gasp, feeling the band tighten around my chest as the nightmare leaves me in its wake. Fuck, it’s still happening. A small part of me had hoped that with my life finally becoming normal that the dreams would go away. But you know what they say about hope being a fickle bitch and all that . . .
My body is covered in a sheen of sweat, my head is pounding with the drums of the old Salvation Army band, and my stomach is roiling. I jump up and run to the bathroom, dropping down to my knees just in time to lose my very expensive celebratory dinner and champagne.
My body stiffens when I feel a hand brush my hair back from my face.
“Too much champagne?” he asks with a note of humor in his voice. The miserable bastard would just love for me to be hungover.
“Yeah,” I whisper.
“Claire?” he asks. I hate the worry in his voice. I hate that I put it there. I thought I had escaped—that I was finally free—but I’m not free, I’ll never be free. I’ve brought Wes straight into hell with me and I hate that most of all.
“Just let it go, Wes.” My voice is rough in desperation, for him to leave it alone, to leave me to my own devices, I don’t know which.
“No,” he grounds out his voice firm. I hang my head unwilling to look at him yet. I can’t stand that this is how he sees me, at my lowest, covered in sweat with the scent of vomit in the air.
“Wes—” I begin to plead but he stops me before I can even get the words out.
“No!” he shouts. “No, I won’t let it go and no, I won’t go away. I want in there, Claire. You have to let me in, baby.” He’s pleading, and I can’t stand the desperation in his voice or the knowledge that I am solely responsible for it.
“It’s too dark, Wes,” I whisper. “I can’t drag you further into hell with me.”
Wes drops down onto his knees behind me, wrapping his arms around me as if he can block the world from seeping on to my shoulders. In this moment, Wes is my shield, my protector, my big, bad warrior and I know in my heart that with him I can do anything, be anything, but without him, I don’t even want to try.
“I’ve already been to hell, honey,” he says softly, his chin resting on my shoulder, reminding me that he has been to hell and knows its demons on a first name basis. “Let me walk in there with you. Let me be your light in the dark.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“But what if it is?” He asks softly. “What if together we can beat it back?”
“I just don’t know,” I say softly, my voice harsh. “I’m so scared.”
“I know, baby.” His arms grip tighter around me, easing the invisible band around my chest. “Let me be your light.”
“You already are.”
And in this moment, I realize the veracity of my words. The power they hold rings true for both of us. No longer have I craved the bite of my own bullet and while I struggle with the nightmares, the trauma that still lives inside me, twisting me up, I no longer feel alone, because I’m not. Maybe, just maybe, we can beat back the darkness, together. Wes is right, it’s time to let him in. If we’re really lucky, I won’t drag him into hell with me, but he might just be able to help me pull myself out once and for all.
“Then let’s go back to bed,” he whispers.
“Okay.”
I gasp, feeling the band tighten around my chest as the nightmare leaves me in its wake. Fuck, it’s still happening. A small part of me had hoped that with my life finally becoming normal that the dreams would go away. But you know what they say about hope being a fickle bitch and all that . . .
My body is covered in a sheen of sweat, my head is pounding with the drums of the old Salvation Army band, and my stomach is roiling. I jump up and run to the bathroom, dropping down to my knees just in time to lose my very expensive celebratory dinner and champagne.
My body stiffens when I feel a hand brush my hair back from my face.
“Too much champagne?” he asks with a note of humor in his voice. The miserable bastard would just love for me to be hungover.
“Yeah,” I whisper.
“Claire?” he asks. I hate the worry in his voice. I hate that I put it there. I thought I had escaped—that I was finally free—but I’m not free, I’ll never be free. I’ve brought Wes straight into hell with me and I hate that most of all.
“Just let it go, Wes.” My voice is rough in desperation, for him to leave it alone, to leave me to my own devices, I don’t know which.
“No,” he grounds out his voice firm. I hang my head unwilling to look at him yet. I can’t stand that this is how he sees me, at my lowest, covered in sweat with the scent of vomit in the air.
“Wes—” I begin to plead but he stops me before I can even get the words out.
“No!” he shouts. “No, I won’t let it go and no, I won’t go away. I want in there, Claire. You have to let me in, baby.” He’s pleading, and I can’t stand the desperation in his voice or the knowledge that I am solely responsible for it.
“It’s too dark, Wes,” I whisper. “I can’t drag you further into hell with me.”
Wes drops down onto his knees behind me, wrapping his arms around me as if he can block the world from seeping on to my shoulders. In this moment, Wes is my shield, my protector, my big, bad warrior and I know in my heart that with him I can do anything, be anything, but without him, I don’t even want to try.
“I’ve already been to hell, honey,” he says softly, his chin resting on my shoulder, reminding me that he has been to hell and knows its demons on a first name basis. “Let me walk in there with you. Let me be your light in the dark.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“But what if it is?” He asks softly. “What if together we can beat it back?”
“I just don’t know,” I say softly, my voice harsh. “I’m so scared.”
“I know, baby.” His arms grip tighter around me, easing the invisible band around my chest. “Let me be your light.”
“You already are.”
And in this moment, I realize the veracity of my words. The power they hold rings true for both of us. No longer have I craved the bite of my own bullet and while I struggle with the nightmares, the trauma that still lives inside me, twisting me up, I no longer feel alone, because I’m not. Maybe, just maybe, we can beat back the darkness, together. Wes is right, it’s time to let him in. If we’re really lucky, I won’t drag him into hell with me, but he might just be able to help me pull myself out once and for all.
“Then let’s go back to bed,” he whispers.
“Okay.”
~~~
Catch up on the Claire Goodnite series...
(cover links to Goodreads)
~~~~~
**About the Author**
Jennifer Rebecca is a thirty something lover of words, all words: the written, the spoken, the sung (even poorly), the sweet, the funny, and even the four letter variety. She is a native of San Diego, California where she grew up reading the Brownings and Rebecca with her mother and Clifford and the Dog who Glowed in the Dark with her dad, much to her mother’s dismay.
Jennifer is a graduate of California State University San Marcos where she studied Criminology and Justice Studies. She is also an Alpha Xi Delta.
10 years ago, she was swept off her feet by her very own sailor. Today, they are happily married and the parents of a 8 year old and 6 year old twins. She can often be found in East Texas on the soccer fields, drawing with her children, or reading. Jennifer is convinced that if she puts her fitbit on one of the dogs, she might finally make her step goals. She loves a great romance, an alpha hero, and lots and lots of laughter.
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