Sunday, December 18, 2016

Sale Blitz: Coming Home Series Boxed Set by Meli Raine

Coming Home Series Boxed Set
by Meli Raine
Genre: New Adult/Romantic Suspense/
Military Romance/Contemporary Romance
Release Date: February 4th, 2016


When a mysterious job offer brings Carrie Myerson back to the town where her father was set up for a federal crime, she Returns - to face a past more dangerous than she ever imagined.

And a love more passionate than she ever dreamed.

Drug crimes, kidnappings, set-ups and betrayal all unfold as Carrie and her ex-boyfriend, local police officer Mark Paulson, untangle the complicated web of deceit at the heart of her past.

Nothing is what it seems.
Including Mark.

This boxed set includes all three books in the Coming Home series:

Buy now:
99c sale from December 16-25


In the first few weeks after I moved to Oklahoma to follow Dad, the dreams started. The same two dreams. This one, and one where I almost see the face of the being that captures me. Almost.
It’s maddening.
But I’ve spent two years without the dreams. Why are they back?
As I think, Mark studies me. His eyes change. Concern floods the irises until they’re a dark brown with a golden ring. It’s the color of worry. The color of compassion.
The color of love.
“You were screaming,” he says in a voice hoarse with agony. “I thought someone was attacking you.”
They were, I think. Just not in the way you imagined.
I sniff and blink lots of times. My mind feels split in two. Blood floods my arms and feet. My toes feel numb. My lips feel big. Nothing is normal. I pull the sheet over my body and just stare at him. The only sound in my little home is our breath.
We’re both panting hard, but for totally different reasons.
His brow deepens with worry, the muscles around his jaw tight. His eyes flit around the room as if he’s scanning. Surveying. Still on constant watch for danger.
“It was a dream,” I finally choke out.
“Some dream,” he says in a voice filled with sympathy. “You really screamed like someone was killing you, Carrie.” His concern becomes greater. Mark’s eyes narrow. He’s watching me like I hold the key to everything.
“They were.”
Alarm floods his features.
“In the dream, I mean,” I blurt out, reaching for his hand. I don’t know why I do that. I can see my hand stretch into the space between us. The part of me that knows it’s wrong isn’t saying anything. The part of me that needs to be connected to Mark must be stronger.
My fingers feel like a brick of ice. His hand is hot. It feels like I’m touching a stove burner and I pull back.
He softens and tilts his head. A wave of sandy blonde hair slides over his worried brow. He reaches for my hand and I let him.
“You’re so cold,” he says, his voice dropping. He sounds so protective.
My teeth start to chatter. He’s right. Suddenly, I can’t stop shivering. Everything in the trailer begins to bounce slightly, like in earthquake scenes in the movies. I shake so hard my skin starts to hurt.
“Oh, Carrie,” Mark says in a voice full of sadness. He crawls across my little bed and moves behind me, kicking off his shoes in the process. They thump - thud thud - and the sound echoes in my head.
Thud thud.
Thud thud.
Like a heartbeat.
Like my own heart in my mouth in the dream.
A sob fills my chest, growing like a balloon. It swells and fills, so big I can’t breathe again. Can’t talk. Can’t anything.
And then Mark is behind me on the bed, his jeans-covered legs around my hips, his heat pressing against my thighs, my calves. He pulls me back against his warm, muscled chest. He tucks the covers up to my chin and wraps his arms around my shoulders.
He’s so warm. He smells like old sweat and dust and coffee and autumn leaves. He feels so good behind me. I can’t stop shivering. The vibration radiates out of me from within.
I feel like a gong. Like someone hit me as hard as possible and now the ripple effects can’t stop.
“Shhh,” he says against my ear, rocking me slightly. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”

“You’re a what?” I gasp.
He looks like he’s vibrating. Mark leans forward and puts his hands on the edge of the kitchen table. His fingertips are white. The cords in the back of his hands stand out. His veins bulge. His chest rises and falls, heavy and hard, his pecs straining against the thin, beige fabric of his shirt as he stares at me.
The look he gives me makes me want to hug him and flee from him at the same time.
“I’m a DEA agent.”
I can’t believe this is happening.
“Since when?” I gasp.
“Since four years ago.”
“Four what?” My voice rises with shock. What is Mark saying? What does he mean? He’s been a...huh?
“Four years. I got back from Afghanistan and my special forces training made me a candidate, so—”
“No.” I laugh, a barking sound that feels unreal. All of this is surreal, so why shouldn’t my laughter join in? This is absurd. “You’re a police officer.”
I knew he’d served in Afghanistan. He’d mentioned it, briefly, with a lot of pain and a brooding look. I’d stopped asking more details. It seemed like an off-limits topic back then.
Now I wish I’d asked more questions.
“I’m afraid yes, Carrie. I’ve never been a true police officer. I mean, I am...I have all the legal clearances and the—never mind.”
I’ve never heard Mark ramble nervously. There’s a cuteness to it, like an awkward teen boy trying to talk to a girl.
Except this isn’t a teen boy. This is the man who got my father arrested, who also knows who stole my best friend, and who is standing before me telling me that everything I knew about him was a lie.
“Our entire relationship was fake,” I whisper.
“God, no,” he hisses, his eyes gleaming in the light as he gives me a savage look. “You were the only real part of my entire life here, Carrie.” The way the light bounces off his face makes me want to weep. His eyes, his skin, the way his jaw muscles fold and grind. The sheer power of his emotions feel like heat waves radiating toward me.
I go numb. My ears ring. My eyes blink over and over. My body feels like it’s hurtling through space and time without any control.
My heart is along for the ride.
I toss his badge on the table. It skitters and slides off the edge, bouncing on his foot. I reach for the doorknob to the kitchen door, shaking so hard my teeth start to chatter. I’m not cold. I open the door and look back at him.
His head is bent down, fingers gone a strange shade of white from gripping the table so hard. His hair is longer than usual and covers his forehead. I can’t see his eyes. His entire body is rigid with tension. Every muscle swells. His arms look like carved wood. If we were in any other situation I’d admire him. Take him in with my eyes.
Devour him.
Right now, though, isn’t that time. It’s like something between us just died. How many lies were in my life that I didn’t know about? How many truths that I believe aren’t really true? How could I give my heart to Mark so long ago only to be brutally betrayed?
“Don’t go,” he says. Begs. Pleads. He doesn’t look up, though. The words are so desperate that he doesn’t have to. I know what I will see in his eyes if he looks at me.
“Give me a reason to stay,” I whisper before I can stop myself.

My heart feels like it’s resting under my tongue and beating a thousand times a minute. I frantically clear the web from my face and force myself to stay in place. I’m sure there are spiders and probably mice down here. Maybe worse. I’ve never heard of rats in the old bar, but you never know.
None of that matters right now.
I make myself take a step away from Amy and toward the dim light. One step. I stop.
I did it.
I can do it again.
Ten steps later I find myself off balance. The light isn’t growing any brighter. It’s just a vague, brownish light that I start to think is in my imagination. Maybe I’m going crazy and hallucinating this.
The ground becomes soft, then hard again. I backtrack, shuffling my toes on the ground.
Yes. There’s a divot. A soft spot, but it’s not dirt. More like a rubbery section.
I start to pitch to the left and reach my hand out. It touches wood. Ah, that’s right. The shelving along the walls. I’d forgotten about that. My finger cracks as it strikes a piece of wood, but at least I know where I am. Pain radiates from my finger. I keep walking.
My hand reaches the end of the shelves and just touches the concrete wall. Every foot or so there’s a small indent. The cement blocks are stacked on each other down here for the foundation. I’m feeling the groove where they separate.
And then I hit something made of metal. The cold, stark difference between the cement blocks and the steel makes me squeal. I go quiet, then hear a rustling sound. It’s tiny. It’s coming from in front of me.
Then I hear the unmistakeable sound of a mouse squeaking.
I go into instant panic mode. My eyes widen, desperate to see where I am so I can defend myself. I’m terrified of mice. Have been since I was little. The spider web earlier was freaky enough. A live mouse will make my blood burn and I’ll faint.
Dad used to tease me about my fear. Dad isn’t here. No one is here other than Amy, and I’m the strong one now. I’m her only hope.
I’m my only hope.
An ache for Mark hits me square between the breasts, like an arrow shot through the bone. I’ve been on my own for a very long time. The last three years were all about helping to get my dad exonerated. I know what it means to be completely on your own.
To have no one to lean on.
This is a completely different kind of aloneness.

About the author:

USA Today bestselling author Meli Raine writes romantic suspense with hot bikers, intense undercover DEA agents, bad boys turned good, and Special Ops heroes -- and the women who love them. Her books include the Breaking Away series (Finding Allie, Chasing Allie, Keeping Allie), the Coming Home series (Return, Revenge, Reunion) and the Harmless series (A Harmless Little Game, A Harmless Little Ruse, A Harmless Little Plan).
Meli rode her first motorcycle when she was five years old, but she played in the ocean long before that. She lives in New England with her family.


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