NEW
RELEASE and EXCERPT
Bittersweet
(Love Edy Book 2)
(Love Edy Book 2)
by Shewanda
Pugh
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Description
In the aftermath of one tragic and uncertain night, Edy and Hassan shut
out the chaos with a kiss. But when Hassan's traditionalist mother sees that
kiss … well, a nightmare of a different sort begins. After all, he still has an
arranged marriage on the horizon.
Love attacks the glue of their two bonded families; while the slow tug of
success pulls Edy and Hassan in opposite directions. After denying their
feelings for so long, they now have each other, but are forced to ask
themselves if being together is worth it.
Excerpt
Hassan examined the
gash on his right hand with mild interest, curious as to what point he’d earned
it. His hand shook; his whole arm shook, and the tightness in his chest worked
like a vice. He believed he could whittle away the panic. He believed he could
wish away the night. He closed his eyes, opened them, and found all exactly as
it had been.
He swatted at the
EMT impatiently as his legs dangled from the rear of the ambulance. “That’s
enough,” Hassan said. “I’m good.”
The man frowned down
at his work. He’d cleaned the wound, applied an ointment, and looked at a roll
of gauze longingly. “Really, you should let me—”
“I said ‘no.’”
Hassan snatched his arm free and stood.
They’d rolled Wyatt
away on a gurney. When that happened, the wheel of the stretcher had bumped on
the door frame’s ledge, causing his arm to swing out from the bed. Long, white,
limp—that was Hassan’s last image of him. He thought of it now as he stared at
the Green’s front entrance. A uniformed officer banged at the door. Another
stood at his side. The wind howled in response.
He couldn’t watch
that. He couldn’t stand this. Swarming, aimless flashing lights, the methodical
sectioning and combing of here and there, and Wyatt’s swinging arm, slipped out
to greet him.
He’s dead. No one
loses that much blood and lives.
Hassan’s thoughts
turned to Edy, Edy whose friend had been shot. Quick steps brought him to her,
in the cold, in the dark, in the madness they’d rushed home. Get to her was his
only command.
She stood underneath
a winter-stripped oak wrapped in a fleece Patriots blanket. Seeing her reminded
him of his own bare arms and of how cold he should have been.
He slid in with her,
wrapped her in the circle of his arms so tight, and exhaled a puff of
exhaustion. Better, he thought. Best. Because he couldn’t think just now. He
could only feel and breathe in drafts, so wrecked was he from the senselessness
of it all. Some part of him, some inner part, fractured and burned, fluttering
off in winter winds ashen piece by ashen piece.
“Hassan,” Edy said.
“I—I’m freaking out. I’m going to lose it completely.” Her eyes swept the lawn
without seeing, watering to overflow, sliding into panic.
“Edy,” he said, but
she didn’t hear.
“Edy,” he repeated,
but she still didn’t hear. She gripped the fabric of his shirt at the waist,
fisting it with a hand and twisting. He pulled her in so they were forehead to
forehead and trembling.
She would keep it
together or he would unravel right with her.
“Don’t leave me,”
Hassan said. “You know you can’t.”
He yanked at her as
if he could rouse her into forgetting, into going backward, into being
yesterday’s Edy and therefore okay. In this tighter, fiercer embrace, he was
hyper aware of his every clenched muscles, of her fingers first touching, then
digging into his side, and of the snow that eventually began to fall.
He’d hold them
together if it took all night.
She ran a hand
across his face and he caught her by the wrist. Funny how the noises dulled
then, how the rushing thuds of footsteps and the commanding voices drifted to
insignificance when she looked at him. While he couldn’t will every muscle in
his body to release, or his heart to slow down on the gallop, he could do this.
He could hold her and she could him. They could ground each other, help each
other. It worked two ways.
Luckily.
She licked her lips.
And he kissed them.
It happened that
fast.
“Hassan!” his mother
cried.
Yeah.
His mother.
Praise for the Book
"Well written!
This story takes you on a ride, draws you in; almost as if you're right there!
I cannot wait to read how the story continues!" ~ Amazon Customer
"I really
enjoyed this book. The characters and plot were well written. I really found
myself drawn into it and couldn't put it down until I finished. I felt for Edy
as she struggled trying to figure out how Hassan and she could be together but
it seems like everyone is against them. I really look forward to reading more
from this amazing author." ~ Kindle
Customer
"I love the way
Ms. Pugh put words together. This is written beautifully. There are a few
mistypes & and missing words. But, I'm a fan and will continue to read your
work. Great job! I'm looking forward to whatever you write next." ~ Tai
"The author did
an excellent job capturing life and the many issues it brings. Culture while it
enhances our differences can cause many issues. The characters make a lot of
decisions some more difficult than others. The author is very adept on
relationship and character development. I will highly recommend this
book." ~ Alison
About the Author
Shewanda Pugh is a tomboy who credits Stephen King with being the reason
she writes romance. In 2012 she debuted with the first novel in a three part
contemporary adult romance series, Crimson Footprints. Since then, she's been shortlisted for the
AAMBC Reader's Choice Award, the National Black Book Festival's Best New Author
Award, and the Rone Award for Contemporary Fiction in 2012 and 2013. She has an
MA in Writing from Nova Southeastern University and a BA in Political Science
from Alabama A&M University. Though a native of Boston, Massachusetts, she
now lives in Miami, Florida, where she can soak up sun rays without fear of
shivering.
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