If She Were Blind by Laney Wylde (The After Twelve, #1)
If She Were Blind
by Laney Wylde
(The After Twelve, #1)
Published by: Crimson Tree Publishing
Publication date: October 22nd, 2018
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance, Thriller
Synopsis:
Not everyone can get justice the traditional way���that���s where Estlyn Collins comes in. A young lawyer in Santa Monica, her ���legal��� service, After Twelve, works outside the courtroom to tip the scales when the justice system has failed.
For a price.
Thanks to her powerful underground network, Estlyn���s success rate is stellar, and her inbox stays filled with inquiries from the desperate and vengeful. But when one of those names is a ghost from her past seeking vengeance against her, she���s shaken to her core. Off balance and scared to be alone, she makes an impulsive move for a guy. He���s a complication she doesn���t have time for, but it turns out he may also be unlikely���if unwitting���asset.
Treading the rapidly thinning line between personal and professional, Estlyn pursues her target while outrunning the one on her own back���only to find she may be running into a lot more than she bargained for.
IF SHE WERE BLIND is the first book in the engaging New Adult series AFTER TWELVE by author Laney Wylde. Perfect for fans of the television shows REVENGE, SCANDAL, and VERONICA MARS, the AFTER TWELVE Series is a gritty social-issue drama that delivers steamy romance, intrigue, and the most bittersweet revenge plots. Estlyn���s determination to right every wrong is sure to quench your thirst for justice, yet leave you wanting more.
Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/40866623-if-she-were-blind
Purchase:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Were-Blind-After-Twelve-Book-ebook/dp/B07FY82KDJ/
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/if-she-were-blind-laney-wylde/1129186876?ean=9781634223386
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/ca/book/if-she-were-blind/id1418955414?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/if-she-were-blind
Excerpts
Girlfriend. That word means I���ll get to go home with Estlyn and sleep beside her every night and keep my toothbrush in her bathroom and leftovers from our dates in her fridge. I���ll get to ask invasive questions about her family and ex-boyfriends and find out her annoying quirks like if she flosses in the living room or bites her nails. I���ll get to fight with her about how she works too hard and needs to take it easy and listen to her doctor. I���ll see how pretty she is without her makeup and how big her hair is when it air dries.
What the hell is wrong with me? Let me try again.
Girlfriend. I���ll have regular access to a pussy. That sounds healthier, right?
���That sounds like bullshit. Let me talk to Dean.���
���Dean���s not here.���
���You���re alone? You can���t be by yourself if--���
���No, no, I���m not alone. I have a friend staying with me this week.���
���What friend?���
���Cal.���
���Cal? I don���t know any Cal.���
���I met him Tuesday.���
���Dillon,��� he scolds and lowers his voice, ���is he an escort?���
���No, Dad!��� He really thinks I have so few friends that I hired an escort to help me as I recover?
���Then what does he do?���
���He���s a writer.���
���What does he write?���
���Television and movies.���
���I almost prefer the escort story.��� See what I meant earlier. Literature snob.
���He���s also a part-time bartender.���
���Is he any good?���
���At bartending or writing?���
���How hard is bartending?���
���Well, he makes a mean old fashioned and has mastered period-specific dialogue. Does that answer your question?���
���Is he straight?���
���Jesus, Dad. That���s neither relevant nor your business.���
���He is, isn���t he?���
���Why does his sexual orientation matter?��� Linus glances at me with a confused smirk. I shake my head and roll my eyes to dismiss him from my conversation.
���He���s not a friend! He���s a straight boy!���
���I can have male friends who aren���t gay.���
���Let me talk to him.���
I glance past Dean���s shoulder as a man close to my dad���s age takes nervous steps closer and closer to Dean. Once he���s in his space, he taps his back. Dean whips around to face him. ���Excuse me, are you Dean Martinez?���
His eyes are full of suspicion as he studies the stranger. ���Um, why?���
���It���s Dwayne. We���ve been chatting on Match.com and are supposed to meet up here at seven.���
Dean���s shoulders slouch and his expression turned sympathetic. ���Sweetie, you���ve been catfished.���
���Been what?���
���I���m Dean, but I���m not on any dating site.���
���Really? Because,��� the older gentleman displays Dean���s dating profile on his phone for him, ���you���re right here.���
Dean grabs the phone and starts scrolling through the profile. ������Male seeking male, any race or religion, age fifty-five and older.��� Seriously? ���I love me a sweaty old gay with that curly salt-and-pepper chest hair. The longer and curlier the better. I want it poking above those top shirt buttons. Oh, yeah, let it blow in the wind while we drive down PCH in your Lincoln sedan with the windows cracked. In search of someone, I can raise a family of hypoallergenic, small breed dogs with, someone who doesn���t have all their original joints. I���m so over all these sexy twinks who just want me for my hot bod. Looking for a real man to settle down with, preferably in a gay-friendly, fifty-five and older community.������
I can���t help but give Dean���s blind date a once over. The poor guy is buttoning the second to top button over his ungroomed, grey chest hair as Dean reads. His upper lip looks like the outside of a cold drink on a summer day. Dean gives him back the phone and drops his forehead into his hand. ���Cal, did you let Estlyn go to the library?���
���Um������
He glares at me then chastises, ���Cal?���
���Yes?��� How was I supposed to know she���d use a computer to catfish unsuspecting old gays?
He turns to the humiliated older gentleman with confident compassion. ���Sorry, hon. My friend set you up. Best of luck to finding a man half your age to raise that family of dogs with.���
Death is emptiness.
It���s an empty apartment with his furniture, with his books and clothes.
It���s an empty kitchen that holds his favorite foods.
It���s an empty shower with soap I���ll never breathe from his skin again.
It���s an empty bed with the covers thrown back the way he left them.
It���s an empty embrace, cold where his arms used to surround me.
It���s an empty scream that cries to walls that echo but can���t hear.
It���s an empty ache in my chest, hollow and raging to be filled.
And I swear to god I will fill it.
Fear. It���s how all of us justify what happened that night. Fear and reason can���t overlap. Fear isn���t higher level thinking. It isn���t logical. It���s primal. It���s a response so basic, every animal has it. And crucially, it���s the fire that tests the deepest beliefs, reveals the truest character of the human species.
Not that fear is wrong. It isn���t something to blame anyone for. Just like anger or jealousy or sadness, it springs forth from a place in the mind no one can control. But anger doesn���t excuse violence. Jealousy doesn���t excuse abuse. Sadness doesn���t excuse self-destruction. And fear will never excuse the four bullets that killed Michael.
So, yes, Mom and Dad, I do understand. I understand more than they do because they won���t stare down their own fear long enough to crush it. Because they���re too ashamed to admit their fear of men like Michael, men like my dad, men whose skin is darker than their daughter���s. They shouldn���t be ashamed that they���re afraid. They should be ashamed for pretending they aren���t.
AUTHOR BIO:
Laney Wylde is enamored with all things southern California--the traffic, smog, surprise earthquakes, and nonindigenous palm trees. Consequently, it's the landscape her strong and sometimes lovable female leads paint their stories on. Her New Adult novels Never Touched and the After Twelve series are bright with provocative themes, steamy romance, and inappropriately timed humor.
When Laney isn't writing, she's singing Taylor Swift with her little boy or asking her husband not to tell her about his work as a surgical resident while she's eating. She daydreams about using her math degree to get into law school, then realizes that would be too much work and that she should just play pretend court on paper instead. While she loves a good book, nothing beats 30 Rock with a bag of popcorn and M&Ms.
Author links:
https://twitter.com/LaneyWylde
https://www.facebook.com/laneyawylde/
https://laneywylde.com/
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17741145.Laney_Wylde
