The Renegades #2
Releasing February 20, 2017
The only heart he wants is the one he already broke…
He’s Landon Rhodes.
The Renegade they call Nova.
Sinfully gorgeous, broody, tatted-up, professional snowboarder.
Four-time X Games medalist—
They say a girl broke him once—
That’s why he’s so reckless, so driven, so careless with his conquests.
But I’m that girl.
They can call me his curse all they want.
He and I both know the truth—
He’s the one who destroyed me,
And I’m not the sucker who will let that happen again.
***NOVA can be read as a standalone***
Rebecca Yarros is a hopeless romantic and a lover of all things coffee, chocolate, and Paleo. She is the author of the Flight & Glory series, which includes Full Measures, the award-winning Eyes Turned Skyward, Beyond What Is Given, and Hallowed Ground. She loves military heroes and has been blissfully married to hers for fifteen years.
When she’s not writing, she’s tying hockey skates for her four sons, sneaking in some guitar time, or watching Brat Pack movies with her two daughters. She lives in Colorado with the hottest Apache pilot ever, their rambunctious gaggle of kids, and an English bulldog who is more stubborn than sweet. They recently adopted their youngest daughter from the foster system, and Rebecca is passionate about helping others do the same.
$20 Amazon eGift Card and an Ebook Copy of WILDER (Renegades #1)
“Right. I’ll be quick—you’ve got to be getting cold. My point is that what happened back then…what I did to you. It was wrong. I was wrong. I did the wrong goddamned thing for what I thought was the right reason, and I’m so damn sorry—”
The door opened, and I stepped back in shock. Maybe I should have led with the sorry in the first place. Rachel stood there, gloriously nude, water dripping down her petal-soft skin, and it took every ounce of willpower from every man in the world to keep my eyes on her face. She openly glared at me then lifted a single eyebrow, bent to grab her clothes off the floor—holy shit, her ass could stop traffic—and walked right past me, her head held high.
My mouth actually watered with every step she took, and I snapped my lips closed to avoid drooling. I barely contained my groan, unsure of what was sexier—Rachel’s perfect body that I knew fit mine like a damn puzzle piece, or her I-don’t-give-a-fuck confidence as her hips swayed down the hall. I should have known that a bathroom door was no match for her tenacity.
My heart sank when I looked closer at her lower back. There was a vague, silvery mark, but no tattoo. She’d had it removed. Erased it. Erased us.
She slammed her bedroom door, and I followed until my head rested against the wood. “Fuck, you are so stubborn,” I whispered, but it came out as more of a compliment than a measure of my frustration.
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