Exquisitely Broken by M. Jay Granberry

 

Exquisitely Broken is a second chance romance set in the glittery world of Las Vegas, Nevada.


Four years ago, one bad decision irrevocably destroyed a six-year relationship. There are some mistakes you can't get over, and some things that an apology can't fix.


Sinclair James walked away from Jacob Johnson with her heart in pieces and her pride in shreds. She took the pain of betrayal and harnessed it, turning it into a bestselling album that changed her life. She was no longer the girl defined by what she didn’t have. Now she had everything: money, fame, an award-winning album. However, there was always something missing––some small shard of what use to be.


Now she’s back, with her band unknowingly signing a yearlong residency to work for a new hotel on the Las Vegas Strip––and subsequently––Jacob Johnson.


Back in the same city, working for the same hotel, sparks that had died to embers suddenly burst into flame. Jacob finally has a second chance to remind Sinclair just how good they were, and just how good they can be again.


This time he refuses to let her go. He can’t. He works to prove to Sinclair that he's worth a second chance; sometimes love can be enough to erase a disastrous past and embrace a promising future.


History seems to repeat itself as outside forces seem determined to keep them apart. But in the end, their love proves strong enough to overcome the past and blaze the way for their future.

Read the First Chapter HERE!

“Get up, Jake.” I’m surprised when she offers me a hand. Our fingers intertwine, and for the first time in days, I feel the frayed edges of my world begin to knit back together. I get to my feet, and she immediately drops my hand as if the contact burned.
“What do you want?” Her arms wrap tight around her middle like she’s trying to hold herself together.
I’m finally face-to-face with Sin and I’ve got… nothing. My brain is blank. Every practiced speech and contrite apology are gone. My eyes are glued to hers and fuck me, I can’t think of one word. After holding my gaze for a little less than a breath, her eyes glaze over with tears, and her teeth sink into her bottom lip to stop the trembling.
She takes a step back over the threshold, doorknob in her hand, preparing to close the door in my face.
“Hold on.” I press a palm against the door, keeping it cracked, to wedge myself between the opening. I close the space between us. The need to feel her, smell her, be in her space, and have her in mine propelling me forward. My hand slides around the back of her neck pulling her toward me. She stumbles into my arms and trips over her own feet, but like every other time we’ve touched, it’s right.
Finally, the pressure in my chest lets up, and I breathe easy. I rest my forehead against hers and whisper against her lips, “I still want you, Sin. Only you.” I close my eyes against the accusations in hers. This close, her breath is co-mingled with mine, and I can smell the faint scent of almond from her shampoo.
“Come back home,” I beg. My lips move over hers, but she doesn’t kiss me back. “I need you. I need us.” I breathe out on a plea.
This time when I seek her lips, she yields but it’s not with sweet abandon. It’s stiff and tinged with regret. This kiss is heartbreak played out with the brush of lips and the slide of tongues.
And it hurts.

Our lips pull apart and I let out shuddered breath as my heart finally rips completely apart. Instinctively I tighten my arms around her, trying to keep her close, but she pulls back. The air slips between us as easy as a knife through butter. I know what’s coming. Good-bye.

 

  M. Jay Granberry is first and foremost an insatiable reader. Among her favorite things are classic fairy tales, smutty books where characters have heart, old lady sweaters (preferably chunky knit), gift baskets (giving not receiving), and charcuterie trays (green olives, smoked cheese, and Genoa salami). She is a true Las Vegas native, the one in Nevada not New Mexico, and to answer the most frequently asked questions about growing up in Sin City…

• No, she doesn’t live in a hotel.
• No, she has never been a stripper although she does know some.
• Prostitution is absolutely illegal in Clark County (Las Vegas)!
• And what happens in Vegas does indeed stay in Vegas.  
• M. Jay earned a degree in words and stories, and after fifteen plus years of doing everything other than writing, she penned her first novel.

Giving a voice to characters, that are strong yet fragile, that are sometimes uncomfortably real, that express love in dirtiest ways with the sweetest sentiments is honestly a dream come true.

♦ ♦ ♦