Release Date: June 22, 2015
What started out as a deal quickly became a friendship that conquered monsters.
I killed, but I escaped hell.
Emotionless. Disconnected. Cold. A mannequin. It’s what I’d become in order to survive the years held in captivity. I was able to endure the abuse and devastating loss as long as I remained detached.
But he wouldn’t let me.
Crisis, the bass guitarist in my brother’s rock band, Tear Asunder. He’s cocky, rude, a total man-whore. But the rock star has far more beneath the surface of his inked skin, and he’s determined to make me laugh again.
He made me a “deal”, but really, it was blackmail.
His terms were simple. Until his playful honesty became the building blocks to something unexpected. Something strong enough to pull me from the eye of the storm.
Because even though I escaped years of abuse, it didn’t mean I was free.
Warning: Shattered by You contains dark elements. If you are uncomfortable with harsh language and/or disturbing scenes, then this book might not be for you. Trigger warning for drug use.
*Mature audiences only.
Shattered by You is written as a standalone, however, it is recommended you read Book 1 and 2 in the Tear Asunder series.
Words: 98,000
This is a Contemporary Romance.
Have you checked out the other books in the Tear Asunder Series? With You, the first book in the series is FREE! 🙂
Sculpt is an illegal fighter.
He’s also the lead singer of a local rock band.
No one knows his real name.
And from the moment I met him, he made me forget mine.
In order to convince Sculpt to give me self-defense lessons, I had to follow his one rule—no complaining or he’d walk. I didn’t think it would be a problem. I could handle a few bruises. What I hadn’t anticipated was landing on my back with Sculpt on top of me and my entire body burning up for him.
I tried to ignore it.
I failed of course. And having a hot, tattooed badass on top of me week after week, acting completely immune to what he was doing to my body—it was frustrating as hell, so I broke his rule—I complained.
Then he kissed me.
Author’s Note: This novella is Sculpt and Emily’s beginning and how they met. It is an extra and not required to be read before “Torn from You”. Their story and what happens to them is the novel “Torn from You”.
*Warning* Huge cliff-hanger. Like huge! But “With You” and “Torn from You” are released on the same day.*
Love is like an avalanche. It hits hard, fast and without mercy.
At least it did for me when Sculpt, the lead singer of the rock band Tear Asunder knocked me off my feet. Literally, because he’s also a fighter, illegally of course, and he taught me how to fight. He also taught me how to love and I fell hard for him. I mean the guy could do sweet, when he wasn’t doing bossy, and I like sweet.
Then it all shattered.
Kidnapped.
Starved.
Beaten.
I was alone and fighting to survive.
When I heard Sculpt’s voice, I thought he was there to save me.I was wrong.
(It is highly recommended to read “With You” the novella first).
*Warning: This book contains some disturbing situations, strong language and sexual content. Over 18 years.
This is a love story with some dark elements. Dark contemporary romance. No cliffhanger and next in the Tear Asunder series is Ream’s story (the band’s lead guitarist).
Love is ugly and secrets will destroy you.
KAT
I don’t beg.
I don’t cry.
And I don’t give second chances.Ream, the lead guitarist of the rock band Tear Asunder, deserves a gold medal for best dick move ever when he ran the moment he discovered my secret after two days of hot sex. Then he brings some chick to my coming home party from the hospital—after being shot.
I hate him.Until …
Ream’s six foot two frame unfolds out of the car after being gone on tour for eight months. I stared. And in my defense, any girl would stare. It would almost be rude not to because Ream was the type of guy who stood out. Not because he was loud and obnoxious. No, it was because he was the complete opposite. Subtle and dangerously quiet. If he spoke, you’d better hope he liked you because otherwise you’d be falling at his feet begging for mercy. Except me … I don’t beg—ever.
But when our eyes locked, it was Ream’s steady confidence that had my nerves shooting off like jet sprinklers.Then…
Ream told me he didn’t need a second chance because he was still working on his first.
REAM
Sex is ugly. It’s using someone for your own narcissistic pleasure. I did it, but hated it—until her. She was unfuckinexpected. Then I had to wreck our beginning with my screwed up past. I don’t deserve her, but I’m selfish and I’m taking her anyway. This is who I am and it’s too late to change me.
*Warning contains violence, sexual content, and coarse language. Some scenes may be triggers. Mature audiences 18+
A contemporary romance with lots of angst.
Haven
I woke up to my phone buzzing on the nightstand. I rolled over and put the pillow over my head. My leg muscles ached from my run last night, having pushed myself farther and longer than usual. The wind had been strong, trying to unhinge me with each step. I refused to give in. I’d win this fight. I’d kill the monsters. I’d watch them bleed until they no longer lived inside me.
But they did. My last few episodes proved that.
Buzz.
I sighed and tossed the pillow aside.
“Pick up your phone,” Crisis called through the door.
Oh, my God. “What are you doing outside my door?”
“Pick up your phone and find out.” I heard a thump on my door.
I reached over and snagged my phone.
Move it, Ice. We’re taking out the big tractor.
I scrolled.
Don’t ignore me, baby.
Third text.
I made coffee.
Fourth.
Okay, maybe not yet, but I will.
Fifth.
I’ll just sit outside your door until you get your ass out here.
I glanced at the time on the screen. Nine. “It’s Sunday. I’m going back to sleep,” I called, then tossed my phone aside and rolled over, tucking the sheet under my chin.
The door burst open and quickly shut again. Crisis leaned against it, his lips pushed together with that familiar crease between his eyes. “Our brother is a fuckin’ Terminator. I swear he has radar in his head that goes off every time I talk to you.”
My eyes narrowed in on him; he was so full of crap. “Crisis. Get out.” My brother wasn’t—
A light knock sounded on the door. “Sis?”
Shit. I sat up, making certain to keep the sheets covering me because I was wearing a pink silk negligee with skimpy spaghetti straps and it barely covered my breasts. Kat had bought it for me when I first came to live with them, along with a drawer full of panties and bras. She said, ‘every girl deserved to have beautiful negligee next to her skin.’ At first, I balked, internally of course, wanting nothing to do with anything sexy. But after a few months feeling the soft silky material on my hands as I pushed them aside in my drawer . . . I tried one of them on.
I’d never had anything but cheap clothes, and the negligee felt nice against my skin. It made me feel . . . good about myself.
Crisis crossed his arms and I couldn’t stop from glancing at his tatted biceps. Then my gaze trailed down his hard muscled body to strong thighs clothed in worn jeans hanging low on his hips.
God, where was my head? It was too early in the morning and I was wavering under the sweet clenching between my legs and the whirl in my belly. He was a rock star, a hot rock star who was always on social media. Triple hard limit.
“Haven? I just saw your door close.”
I cleared my throat and gestured to Crisis to get away from the door before my brother barged in, saw him and jumped to conclusions. He pushed away and came straight for me, his eyes sparking a mischievous glow.
My brother knocked again. “We’re going to brunch today at Georgie and Deck’s. I’d really like you to come.”
Fine. Crisis wanted to play . . . he froze halfway toward the bed when I raised my brows and smiled. He shook his head back and forth and mouthed, “Don’t do it.”
“Yeah, come in,” I yelled.
Crisis dove for the bed, threw the duvet up in the air and landed flat on his stomach, the cover settling over him just as Ream strode in. I lay frozen beneath the covers, my heart racing, and a whoosh of blood charging through my veins. My breath hitched as warm heated air brushed across my bare thigh and goose bumps popped up along my skin.
Nashoda Rose is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who lives in Toronto with her assortment of pets. She writes contemporary romance with a splash of darkness, or maybe it’s a tidal wave.
When she isn’t writing, she can be found sitting in a field reading with her dogs at her side while her horses graze nearby. She loves interacting with her readers and chatting about her addiction—books.
