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π―πππππ π΅’ π―πππ by New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author Abbi Glines releases on November 29th!!! Check out this sneak peek!
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Excerpt:
Stepping out into the sanctuary, I did a quick scan of the pews to make sure there was no one else here for reconciliation. The sight of long platinum blonde hair that hung in perfect waves to curl slightly at the ends caused me to stop walking. I didn’t recognize that hair, and I knew for certain if I’d seen it before, I wouldn’t have overlooked it. The woman’s back was to me as she stood in front of the votive stand. I could only see three candles lit with her body blocking the others. Her tanned shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh that I could see from across the room.
It was the first time in a while that I’d had to work hard at not letting my gaze fall any further down a female body. What I could see without actually looking at her lower half was there was a lot of leg. Bare legs. It was late April, and the temperature had warmed up. Still, I wasn’t accustomed to seeing that much skin inside these walls.
Then she turned, and I realized that this was my punishment for looking at my phone to see what time the first round of the NFL drafts came on tonight while Martha was confessing to being jealous of Agnes Glenn’s new set of cookware her husband bought her. The Lord had been unfair when he created a female like this one. Eyes so blue they stood out all the way across the room. Shiny pink gloss over a mouth that was going to have me turning around and going back into the confessional. And as hard as I was trying, it was impossible not to see the size of her boobs in that shirt that didn’t cover up much.
Clearing my throat because I was sure I would sound strangled if I spoke without doing it since my mouth had gone dry at the sight of her, I managed to smile.
“Hello,” I said, thankful my legs remembered how to move. “Can I help you with something?”
I might not be slowly scanning her body, but she had no issue giving me a complete once-over. The corners of her mouth lifted, and a dimple appeared. As if this girl needed anything else to add to her appearance. When her eyes finally made it to my face again, I could see amusement dancing in them.
“You’re the priest?” she asked as if she was going to laugh.
It wasn’t the first time I’d had a woman react this way. When I was in seminary, there were always those who took it as a challenge to get me to sin. None of them knew my past because if they had, then they wouldn’t have wasted their time. The females from back home in Fort Worth had been there for it and watched it all play out. They knew how unavailable I was even before my vow of celibacy. Relationships and romance in my life had been buried eleven years ago, along with the only girl I would ever love.
“I am,” I replied.
She lifted a hand and tucked some of her beach Barbie hair behind her ear. “Figures. This was a stupid idea anyway,” she said, then glanced back at the candles. “I lit one anyway. Not sure if I did it right or whatever.”
I stood there as she started to walk back toward the exit and considering my reaction to her it was best that she go. Get away from me Satan. But she’d lit a candle. She’d come in here for a reason. And it was my job. My calling. To help her.
“Wait,” the word came out, and I inwardly winced. This was a bad idea, Jude. She needs to go find another Priest to help her. One that is old enough not to care that she looks like one of those girls dancing on the bar at Coyote Ugly’s. I’d only been there once, but it was memorable.
When she stopped and looked back at me, her hair floated slightly off her back with the motion.
“Yeah?” the sultry tone to her voice was natural. God, seriously. One thing? You could have given her at least one flaw. A big one. Something to even out all the other you blessed her with.
“Why did you light a candle?” I asked, taking a few more strides in her direction.
She lifted one of her shoulders. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I even understand what it is for.”
Okay, so she wasn’t Catholic.
“If you aren’t Catholic, what brought you here?” I asked, probing. She had me curious, and yes, I wanted to help her.
She let out a small, breathy laugh and shook her head, but it held no humor. It masked pain. She was hurting and covering it up well. Or I’d missed it because I had been so focused on her extraordinary face.
“I think I lit it for me,” she said. “I don’t know anymore.”
Eyes like those shouldn’t look so lost and broken. I preferred when they had sparkled with amusement that I was the Priest. What I saw in them now made my chest ache.
“You can light it for anyone. But did you pray? That’s what it’s for. A petition to the Lord or a saint for intercession on your behalf.” I didn’t want to get too complicated and bore her with the entire reasoning behind it.
Her eyes shifted to the votive stand. “That’s the thing. I don’t know what to pray. I’m not sure if I even believe in God. This is the second time I’ve been inside a church in my life. I just, well, nothing else seems to work. I figured I’d give the God thing a go.”
The heaviness behind her words was what made me say what I did next.
“Listen, I have two hours before Men’s Bible Study. Why don’t we sit here, you can talk. I might have some wisdom to share. It is my job.”
Her eyes did a quick take of my jeans and boots again, and she almost smiled. “How old are you?” she asked me.
“Twenty-nine.”
“They let you be a priest at twenty-nine?” she asked, sounding shocked.
“They will let you at twenty-five if you’ve completed your MA and the other requirements. I was twenty-seven, however, when I finished my internship at a parish in Fort Worth and was assigned this one.”
She licked her lips then pressed them together. I shouldn’t be looking at her mouth but it was extremely difficult not to. Another reason letting her leave would have been the best choice.
“Okay,” she replied and walked over to take a seat at the end of a pew. “Since you’re elderly in the priesthood at the ripe ole age of twenty-nine, I suppose I can talk. Might help. It’s either this or go get drunk and show up to a wedding that I’d rather eat glass than attend.”
Blurb:
Saylor
Was it a sin to hate the dead?
It was something I had pondered many times over the past ten months. Although it wasn’t why I required medication to sleep at night. I wasn’t truly concerned about the level of darkness that resided in my soul. It was the images of the night I had watched a bullet take down the boy I had loved most of my life. Seeing the life leave his body, the way his eyes had gone void. It haunted me. Even now that I knew he’d betrayed me. That what I thought had been real had all been a lie. Crosby Cash had been in love, alright, just not with me.
Those closest to me, the ones who were supposed to love me, all accused me of being dramatic. Because that made sense. I just loved the panic attacks that robbed me of my ability to breathe. And the passing out from lack of oxygen was the best. Looking in the mirror and not recognizing the girl looking back at me was my favorite.
Perhaps that was the reason I sought solace in the last place anyone would think I’d go. We weren’t religious people. I’d been born into a family of organized crime. The day I walked into the catholic church seeking… forgiveness, closure, something…anything to find the girl I had once been, I hadn’t expected him. The man ordained by God to lead his people to salvation. Well, that man in the sky so many believed in made a grave mistake allowing a man who looked like Jude, or rather Father Jude, to wear that white collar.
I could lie and say I found what I was looking for standing in front of the altar, staring up at the crucifix, but even those with tarnished souls have their limits. I found something alright, but it wasn’t forgiveness. My answer wasn’t going to come from the one they called their Savior but the one they referred to as Father.
Jude
Temptation comes for all of us. I had thought I could overcome whatever Satan placed before me. This life had held little meaning for me after the day I lost the girl I loved. My first and only love. Too young, sweet, and beautiful for this world. But men are often fools. And I would soon learn just how weak I was - when a pair of bright blue eyes stood in my sanctuary staring back at me.
She was lost. Hurting. Seeking comfort.
She was the one temptation I never expected and would never regret.
Hotter N’ Hell features mature themes and content that may not be suitable for all audiences. Reader discretion is advised. TW include: religion, death of a loved one, mental health, explicit sexual content, and some violence.
Find more books by Abbi Glines: https://abbiglinesbooks.com
