Kindle: ASIN: B018EXNO70
Author: Michelle Lindo-Rice
Publication Date: Jan 12, 2016
About The Book
A broken heart...When Sydney Richardson meets Pastor Noah Charleston it was practically love at first sight. Sydney has battled so much deception in her personal life and in her work as an attorney, she is glad to have a perfect man she can depend on. But her Prince Charming has some secrets that are worse than Sydney could have ever imagined. What will she do when Noah's past life come to light?
A broken truth… Pastor Noah Charleston has come a long way since his troubled youth. A respected Man-of-God, Noah’s long buried past emerges in the form of blackmail and threats. Noah not only fears for his safety but also for his newfound love. Will he take a chance on the truth before it’s too late?
A broken trust...Newly converted Christian, Belinda Santiago, harbors a secret that could end her friendship with Sydney. She’s in love with Lance Forbes, Sydney’s ex-fiancé. When Belinda and Lance’s relationship is exposed she may have to choose between her man and her best friend.
A broken man...Lance Forbes returns to Port Charlotte to make things right with Sydney, but his feelings for Belinda are in his way. Lance knows for him to become a do-right man, he must face his childhood pain. Will Lance get his act together and take a chance on love or run again?
About The Author
Michelle Lindo-Rice is an award winning, bestselling author of "Able to Love" and "On the Right Path" series. She enjoys crafting women's fiction with themes centered around the four "F" words: Faith, Friendship, Family and Forgiveness. She is the 2015 winner of the Black Writers And Book Clubs Rocks Author of the Year Award. www.michellelindorice.com
Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1kj24B7
“The rumor is three black boys killed your parents. Is it true?”
Perched on the edge of his cot, Noah Charleston lifted his eyes to look at the four half-men standing before him. The leader of the pack, Mitch, was sixteen with a baby face, braces and bad acne around his chin. His two muscles, twins Roger and Wylie, were about a year older at seventeen. Both were built like linebackers. Finally, the Whiz, or Matthew a slender fifteen year old with glasses that took up half of his face was the brain of the group.
“Answer him,” Roger prodded, stepping into the small cell.
Noah shrugged. “That was a year ago.”
“We can do something about that.” Mitch popped his gum. “Join us.”
Noah had heard about the “Avengers” as they dubbed themselves. They ruled the juvenile detention hall and dressed in their version of combat gear: khaki pants, boots and camouflage shirts. Even the counselors were afraid of them.
Noah kept to himself. Everyone pretty much left him alone. Except for today.
He looked up at them. “Do I have a choice?”
Wylie stepped forward. “Do you want me to help you make up your mind?”
“How about I help fix that ugly face of yours?” Noah threw back.
Wylie sprung at Noah. Noah jumped to his feet and sidestepped the much bigger guy. Then he bashed Wylie in the back of the head. Roger lunged at him.
“Quit it,” Mitch bellowed. “Leave him alone.”
Roger’s chest heaved but he backed off. His eyes held a threat. Noah met his gaze, daring him to bring it.
“I like your heart,” Mitch said. “We need you.”
“I like my own company,” Noah said.
“We have something you want,” the Whiz said. His voice was barely above a whisper. He wheezed his words as if he was always in need of an asthma pump.
“You don’t have—”
Noah’s eyes widened. The Whiz held a crumpled 3x5 photograph in his hand. Noah snatched it, “Where did you find this?”
“We have our ways,” Mitch bragged.
“I hacked into the computer system,” the Whiz said. This time he coughed at the end of his words. “I know who took your picture.”
“We’ve handled him.” Mitch’s tone was solemn.
“That’s why you should be thanking us,” Wyle said, rubbing the back of his head.
Noah looked at the photograph of his parents and closed his eyes to keep the tears from falling. It was his most prized possession. When he had been sent here to the juvenile home two months ago, Noah had placed it under his pillow before lunch. When he checked for it later that night, it had been gone. He searched everywhere but couldn’t find it. That was the first time since his parents’ funeral Noah had cried himself to sleep.
“Thank you,” he grounded out.
“Thank us by joining us,” Mitch said.
The Whiz held up a picture. It was an African-American by the name of Tony Billows who had taken it.
Noah clenched his fists. “Where is he?”
“In the hospital with some missing teeth,” Roger said.
“And a missing pinky,” Wylie added.
Noah blinked. He would have settled it with a well-deserved punch or two. Not doing Tony serious injury. “That was vicious.”
“It was a message. You mess with one of us you mess with us all. We’re a family,” Mitch said.
“The Avengers,” Wylie and Roger said in unison. They held out their fists. Noah had reservations but Mitch had used the magic word. Family. Noah wanted family. He made a fist and the boys all did a fist bump.
“The Avengers,” he said.
“Welcome,” Mitch said.
“Glad to have you,” The Whiz whispered. “Now, let’s get you some proper clothes and a haircut.”
Noah swallowed his reservations. He had a family again. Nothing else mattered.
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