I’ve got Peri Elizabeth Scott on the blog again, today, with her latest release, The Tattered Bride.
The Tattered Bride by Peri Elizabeth Scott
Available: November 17, 2016
Publisher: Evernight Publishing
ISBN: 978-1-77339-083-3
Childhood traumas lurk deep. Victoria Sparrow knows that. Especially when oneβs father rejects one as not being worthy. Her romantic relationships founder, until Logan Doherty. He gives her reason to believe in goodness and true love, and she commits her heart and soul to him.
No longer prey to her damaged, young self, Victoria eagerly looks forward to their upcoming marriageβuntil she meets Logan at the altar. He informs her the wedding is off before their assembled friends and family, and will not tell her why.
Cast back into the nightmare of rejection, a devastated Victoria undertakes the momentous task of putting her life back together, her trust broken, her worst fears realized.
Meanwhile, Logan is working equally hard to deal with the secretive events that led to that cruel rejection, and then he plans to make it up to his tattered bride.Β IfΒ she will forgive him.
[Read an excerpt]Where to Buy:
β½ Amazon
β½ ARe
β½ BookStrand
β½ Evernight Publishing
Excerpt:
The world narrowed to him and her, and a little slice of churning emotions she couldnβt decipher. βYouβre calling off the wedding. Our wedding. Now.β Just in case she hadnβt heard him correctly. This had the makings of a horrible, sick jokeβ¦
Shoving a hand through his hair, he obviously struggled to meet her stare. His tawny eyes were turbulent. βI am. I β¦ just decided. Itβsββ
βWhat?β Victoria tumbled to it, falling into the abyss of her history. Deep down, she knew why. Too bad heβd onlyΒ justΒ decided. Now. At this inopportune time. All her issues and stupid insecurities washed over her from wherever theyβd been banished to, banished by Loganβs resolute pursuit and sincere belief in her. Heβd addressed her fears, made her wholeβand now? Now her tender underbelly was exposedβwithout a shred of armorβfor the deathblow. The sublime lovemaking of a mere few hours earlier faded in the face of it.
βIββ Real pain and misery now seemed to burn in his eyes, and despite her terrified anticipation, she wanted to soothe him. Through set lips, he continued, βI donβt have the words to tell you why Victoria. Iβm sorry. But the wedding is off.β
Still, she waited, believing he would somehow embellish, give her an explanation that wouldnβt make this about her, but he stood there mutely, now staring someplace over her shoulder. She checked out the direction of that gazeβmaybe there was an answer there, but she saw only a watercolor of a pastoral scene. Please.
She let her pride crumble and begged. βLogan. This doesnβt make any sense. Weβ¦ Only this morningβ¦β
He shook his head and straightened to his full height. βItβs off.β
Deep inside there was an utter certainty that it did indeed make sense. Heβd figured her out. Seen to the core of her the way others had. In despair, she gave up the fight to believe in him and their love in response to his firm declaration. The Victoria of her childhood emerged, in blind response, lashing out to hide from the truth.
βWas it the thrill of the chase? And then when you caught me, you became afraid you were settling? That thereβs something better around the corner?β
She didnβt want to wait for a response. She had to leave. Now. What would get her past the sideways looks and the knowing stares? The church was full of family and friendsβand others who had probably predicted this very momentβ¦
βVictoria. You need to calm down. Itβs not like that.β
βCalm. Down?β She was aware her voice was climbing as she talked over him, and the small room, the one where she and Logan would have been closeted to sign the papers finalizing their marriage, wasnβt soundproof. She modulated her tone the very best she could, humiliation and pain squeezing her very being. βWhat is it like, then, exactly?β
βI canβt say.β
βTell me.β
He looked away. βI canβt.β
Dropping her beautiful bouquet of red roses, entwined with babyβs breath and white, embossed ribbon on the desk, the air currents disturbed the uncompleted marriage papers. They fluttered, mocking her. She stared up at the face of the man she loved. And faced the realization that she indeed still loved him. That part, at least, hadnβt changed despite the mortification of being dumped at the freaking altar. Love. She thought it was love. Too bad it wasnβt real.
βAnd Iβm supposed to take that and be calm!β
βYes, calm down.β His face was set in grim determination, his eyes hot. βWeβll β¦ weβll get through this.β
She narrowed her eyes and leaned into him. What couldnβt she be one of those classy women who took this kind of thing in stride and walked away without making a scene? Maybe she could be. Drawing on a reserve of strength she wasnβt aware she possessed, she said, βIβm calm. Dead calm. So shut up now. I never want to hear your voice again, let alone set eyes on you.β
Squaring her shoulders, she closed off his next attempt to speak. She avoided his outstretched hand and ignored the sudden abject despair written across his handsome features. Was he embarrassed? If he didnβt want a scene, why in hell had he chosen this public place to dump her? Flinging the door open to the main part of the church, she surveyed the people filling the pews. Those congregated there stilled into silence, with only an occasional murmur marring the quiet. Dozens of pairs of eyes looked in their direction. Victoria stepped forward. Classy. She could do this.
About the Author:
Peri Elizabeth Scott lives in Manitoba, Canada. She recently closed her part-time private practice as a social worker and child play therapist. She and her husband have a seasonal business and pretend to work well together.
Writing for years, mostly short stories and poetry, she has published dark erotica under another pen name and reads everything she can lay her hands on.
http://www.perielizabethscott.com
https://www.facebook.com/perielizabethscott
peribeth@hotmail.ca