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Copyright © 2015 J.W. Phillips

All rights reserved

Smashwords Edition

ISBN

All rights reserved. This book may not be
reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic
form without permission. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance
of events to real life, or of characters to actual persons, is
purely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademark status
and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of
fiction.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

There are not words available to properly
thank the people who made this dream possible.

First, I want to thank my Lord and Savior for
giving me a crazy mind that can spin tall tales. Scratch that, I
want to thank him for everything because, without him, nothing is
possible.

Secondly, the greatest husband in the world,
mine: Who didn’t fuss if the house were less the perfect or when I
ignored him to type away for hours. But mostly for teaching me my
self-worth, loving me when I was less than lovable, and for showing
me what real love is. I’m capable of writing about true love
because you show it to me daily.

Thirdly, my greatest blessings, my two
rugrats: Thank you for sharing momma with her imaginary friends.
But mostly for being all-around great kids.

Last, but certainly not least: Julia and
Rachael. This story would still be shoved in my computer if not for
them. Though I have never met either one physically, they both have
become two great friends. It was worth every hour I spent writing
this story just to have them in my life now.

DEDICATION

For my hubby,

My everything and more

There are three things that amaze me – no,
four things that I don’t understand: how an eagle glides through
the sky, how a snake slithers on a rock, how a ship navigates the
ocean, how a man loves a woman.

Proverbs 30: 18 - 19

PROLOGUE

Trucker Castleman saw the light breaking
through from the line of trees leading to her house. He could
pretend he was there to check on her but it would be a lie. He
wasn’t simply going to watch her this time; he was going to take
her. His dad said it was the only solution, but how could he hurt
and force anything on Julie Emison, the girl who had swooped into
his life and changed everything. He laughed to himself. She had
changed him, and she didn’t even know he existed. But soon she
would know all too well.

Julie was curled up on a wooden porch swing.
Her head rested on her hand as her other one wrapped around a book,
her mouth partially open but not quite smiling, her cheeks were
flushed from the afternoon sun. Trucker closed his eyes. Oh, how he
loved the way her porcelain skin often flamed. She beckoned him
like a soft siren, sending an unknown chill down Trucker’s back. He
listened to the sounds of her breathing, thinking it would make an
excellent CD to sleep to.

He quickly stepped out of the shadows and
stood in a clearing as he overlooked her backyard. . . Now she was
smiling, and he wondered what book she was reading to make her
whole face light up. Grazing at her, he knew everything was about
to change. He was going to give into the primal and animalistic
urge to claim the pure and angelical Miss Emison. She was there,
calling him. The genteel scent of the very blood coursing through
her body was almost more than he could bear.

His mind moved at lightning speed as he
envisioned holding her in his arms, kissing her, biting her. He
would be gentle. Possibly even take her to his home, and enjoy her
in the confines of his room. He would feel her pulse race through
her body and found himself strangely calm at the thought. She would
be scared at first. He would tame her nerves, whisper words of
sweet seduction into her ear. He would tell her whatever she needed
to hear, and she would against her better judgment believe every
word. His hands would trace over every inch of her beautiful and
innocent curves, marveling at the way she would blossom under his
touch.

Eventually, she would be eager to please him.
The thought sent a thrill through his groin. Damn, how he wanted to
kiss down her lovely neck and feel her vein thump under his
tongue.

He’d tease her out of her clothes, make her
believe what they shared could lead to a forever. He would make her
believe in him, a belief that would be entirely false. He snapped a
nearby branch off. He wanted the “forever” with her, and for that
moment, he would convince himself it was possible.

Chapter 1

The small town of Promise Land, Tennessee was
experiencing record heat, yet Julie Emison had never felt colder.
Staring out over Main Street and the little town that stood still,
she sipped on a strawberry milk shake at Priddy’s and sighed. It
was a town where a person found themselves prisoners. Farmers were
king, and everybody else just got by. Newcomers were frowned upon
and were believed to be up to no good. After all, who would choose
to move to the groin of the Bible belt? There was not even a single
red light in the entire county. Here there were sturdy old
farmhouses, children roamed freely down the street, and old men
still met to play checkers and gossip.

A little boy’s laughter caught Julie’s
attention. He tiptoed around trying to avoid the many cracks in the
original hardwood flooring.

“Step on a crack and break my mommy’s back,”
he sung as he skipped around the building between aisles of over
the counter medicine, medical supplies, candy, and small iron
tables and chairs. Yes, Priddy's was not only a soda shop, but also
Promise Land’s one and only drug store. It was a perfect mixture of
a 1950s ice cream parlor and an old fashioned apothecary's shop. It
was so old that the first pharmacist there probably
was
called an apothecary. It held a special spot in Julie’s heart. Her
grandma brought her there every Saturday for ice cream and to
review the church’s prayer list or, as Julie’s dad liked to call
it, “Promise Land’s local gossip rag.” She had celebrated every
birthday there since she was five. It hadn’t changed a bit in all
those years. She squeaked the straw in the lid of her cup.
Nothing ever changes in Promise Land
.

Julie bounced to her feet, ready to leave,
only to be abruptly knocked back down by a hard body of
muscles.

“Excuse me,” said a raspy, smooth voice.

Julie glanced up to catch a glimpse of him.
He was a force of control, power, and devastating beauty. How she
hadn’t already noticed him was beyond her. He wasn’t a person so
easily overlooked. His hair was dark brown, almost black; it wasn’t
too long or too short and had a slightly untidy look. Yet, it still
fell flawlessly around his unnaturally beautiful face. His eyes
were a striking blue and seemed to look directly into her soul. He
demanded respect and focused all his attention on Julie.
What
could a boy like him find fascinating about me?
With a shake of
her head, she told herself to snap out of it. He wasn’t there to
watch the town’s plain Jane. Yet, that was exactly what he was
doing.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked, motioning to
the chair closest to her. She focused on his massive hands as he
pushed his hair off his face. For a fleeting second, she speculated
what it would feel like to have those hands hold hers. A smile
faintly lit up his face as he took a step closer. The way his head
inquisitively tilted to the side made her heartbeat quicken, her
breathing hasten, and she blinked rapidly. He reached over and ever
so lightly pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His
fingers felt like a butterfly, softly fluttering down her neck.
With a shaky breath, she fought the urge to run her nose along his
wrist to take in more of his smell. He smelled sinfully delightful.
Yet, she couldn’t put a finger on it; it wasn’t the normal freshly
clean smell or even the smell of high-priced cologne. Whatever it
was, it was mouthwatering and almost as heavenly as his savagely
gorgeous face. She stared at him, hopelessly speechless.

He reached out his hand as if to touch her
face, but offered it up for a handshake instead. “I’m Trucker
Castleman, by the way.”

She reached for his hand and let out a little
cry of pain; his skin burned hot, unnaturally hot. Julie was sure
her hand would come away blistered and scarred, but she found she
couldn’t let go. The feel of his hand in hers felt natural and
right.

“You’re hot,” she babbled.

Julie tasted a drop of blood where her teeth
bared down onto her bottom lip. He slowly licked the corner of his
lips, and a little half grin appeared across his face. Trucker ran
the pad of his thumb across her lip. His eyes closed. He seemed to
be fighting an impromptu craving.

With a firm shake of his head, his eyes
popped open and he whispered, “Thank you, you’re not so bad
yourself.”

“Um ... I meant your skin feels hot,” she
managed to get out. She stared at him like an idiot. She was sure
he thought she was mentally incompetent.

“I like your first take better,” he
answered.

Noticing they were still holding hands, she
slowly pulled her hand back, and he reluctantly let go. He flipped
the chair around and took a seat. Julie saw a spark of something
flash across his eyes. She jumped and almost toppled out of her
seat. His hand moved entirely too fast as he steadied her. The
sensation of death and rage spilled out from his touch. Julie
always had the unnatural ability to feel the emotions of those
around her. Her mom told her it was just a very sensitive sixth
sense, and she went out of her way to act as if it was a cool quirk
to have instead of something freakish as Julie knew it was. Julie
could feel everyone’s emotions but she had never had an awareness
so strong and real as she did at that moment. It was as if she was
choking on misery. Trucker gradually slid his hand away, and the
feeling went to a small trickle only playing on the fringes of her
mind.

Julie started fidgeting with her granny’s
cross necklace and prayed her most recent feelings were her fears
and nothing to do with the boy sitting at the table with her.
Trucker was fixated on the necklace. Julie slouched in her seat as
he concentrated on her fingers twisting around the cross.

“Do you believe there is something out there
greater than all this? Greater than you?” he whispered.

“Pardon?”

Her face scrunched up and she sunk father
down in her seat.
Why would he ask such a question? Where did it
come from?

“I noticed your necklace,” he said and nodded
toward her neck.

“Oh, yeah, I do believe. Do you?”

“You could say that.” He reached over to
touch her and stopped himself.

Mr. Doyle, the pharmacist and owner came
over, tousled Julie’s hair, and placed a cupcake in front of
her.

“Thank you,” she whispered, sweeping her hair
behind her ear.

“Special occasion?” Trucker eyed the candle
flickering on top of the cupcake.

“I guess,” Julie murmured, tucking her chin
onto her chest.

“It’s my birthday.”

Her teeth slid over her bottom lip. She felt
the heat rush to her face and knew the redness was soon to follow.
She always hated the spotlight, and the way he was scrutinizing her
brought those qualms to the surface. Crawled up tight into her
shell, she felt him willing her to look up.

“Julie,” he snapped. His tone had a stern,
authoritative bite to it. “Look at me.”

She tried to resist. The sheer will of his
glare forced her gaze to travel up the length of his body.

He stared back, revealing a scorching force
of superiority that caused her to gasp. Dominance. Command.
Despair. Longing. Fondness. Confusion. All of those spilled from
his eyes and straight to her heart.

“Julie Danielle Emison, never hold your head
down in shame again. You’re too special and beautiful to ever feel
less than.”

She nodded in agreement as the most
overwhelming feeling of all washed over her, apprehension. He’d
called her by her name. Not just part of it, but her entire name.
How did he even know it? She’d never told him.

He smiled and started questioning her about
being alone on such a special day. Her speech, her reactions, and
her mood shifted into automatic. She explained that her parents
unexpectedly got called into work. How her friends and her had been
planning a trip to Nashville to celebrate her coming of age, but
how they had each given one lame excuse after another to bail on
her. She smiled and answered him, but her mind stayed firmly on the
fact he already knew who she was. She never noticed the look of
guilt and regret at the sadness in the tone of her voice when she
explained about her new found loneliness.