Truth or Dare Amy Brent ~ Page 1

Read Online Books/Novels:Truth or DareAuthor/Writer of Book/Novel:Amy BrentLanguage:EnglishISBN/ ASIN:B07BPHDMLMBook Information:

Eleven years ago, I lost my innocence to a complete stranger.
He had everything " dominance, thirst, power, control"
It was perfect!
Except"
That he left me scarred, damaged, flawed (and pregnant).

I meet him today, only to discover that he"s gotten HOTTER with the years.
And that big, rugged body" That"s made for sin.
Those icy blue eyes scorch me with feelings so intense that make me want to forget my imperfect past.
Suddenly, getting lost in the mountains seems like the most beautiful thing ever.
And when we play the game of truth or dare, I choose dare.

And guess what"
He dares me not to fall for him again!

Just that he doesn"t know my deepest, darkest secret.
A secret that could destroy both of us " forever!Books by Author:Amy Brent Books

Chapter One

Jake

I could taste the cold every time I drew a breath. Snowflakes hit my nose and cling to my eyelashes. I stuck out my tongue, relishing the feel of the icy cold droplets. I loved the snow. It always made everything feel fresh and clean. Despite my warm coat and heavy, lined boots, the cold seeped in and sent a chill down my spine. I don"t generally mind, in fact usually like it. The cold has a way of reminding you of your vulnerabilities. We are all fragile, no matter how big and tough we may appear on the outside.

With every long stride, I am closer to home. I"m looking forward to a hot cup of coffee and a night sitting by the fire reading the book Gabe let me borrow. Up here, reading is the best past time. Television is overrated, and it rarely works. That discovery actually made me very happy. I loved being cut off from the world. Quite frankly, I am not fond of most of the inhabitants. There is far too much evil, but not up here on the mountain.

Crocker Mountain in the Carrabassett Valley in Maine, is my hiding place. I"m never leaving. Never going to face the horrors I once witnessed so many years ago. Not on my mountain.

My small cabin came into view as I emerged from the trees. I picked up my step, anxious to get everything ready before the snow really started to fall. This was going to be a big one. I was ready. I was always ready. It was part of my Army training.

Heading straight for my woodshed, I carried some logs to the cabin"s covered porch. After a few more trips, I determined it was good enough, and I"d have enough wood close at hand to get me through tonight and part of tomorrow morning. I knew I"d have to shovel a path through deep snow tomorrow to get more wood which was fine by me. I loved the grueling work that stretched every muscle in my body. It made me feel alive.

"Hey, buddy!" I greeted the large animal, a one hundred twenty pound lab mix, currently napping on the couch as I stepped through my unlocked door. I rarely locked the thing, especially with my so-called guard dog on duty. He was big, but the only real threat he posed was death by drowning in a pool of slobber.

Casper, one of my two friends in the world, lifted his head, looked at me, and thumped his tail a few times before laying back down to continue his nap.

"Appreciate the enthusiasm," I grumbled. "See if I feed you dinner tonight."

The mention of the word dinner had his tail thumping hard against the couch again, but he didn"t bother getting up. He knew it wasn"t time yet. The dog had a better internal clock than any human. Right now, it was the middle of the day, siesta time.

"You ready for this one, boy"" I asked the dog as I kicked off my boots and hung my coat on the hook near the door.

My feet were protected by heavy wool socks, keeping them nice and toasty warm. The wood floors of the cabin tended to be chilly. Cold feet could make a person feel cold. My personal rule was to always make sure my feet were warm and dry, whether inside or out. I may look rough and tough on the exterior, but I really hated cold feet"something guaranteed to ruin my day.

I set the portable radio, my only communication with the outside world, on the small kitchen counter, turning it up a couple of notches. I couldn"t afford to miss a call for help or updates on the storm. Gabe and I had a pact. We always checked on each other before and after a storm, and were on standby for one another and the few other neighbors on the mountain just in case something went very wrong.

"I"m going to make some coffee, then you are going to have to scoot your big ass over, Casper," I warned the dog.

No response. None expected.

"We"re probably going to lose power pretty soon. Another big storm coming in," I said, making small talk with the creature.

Yes, I talked to my dog. A lot. He was my best friend and most importantly, he didn"t talk back. Casper had been a lifesaver. Five years ago, I had been fishing in the small stream and the dog had appeared out of nowhere. He was skinny as hell and clearly very lost. At first, he had been afraid of me, but was smart enough to realize I was his only hope. I took him all the way into town, paid a shitload of money to a vet and got him all fixed up. They told me he was likely a dump off, something that happened far too often in our little neck of the woods.

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