Stranger in my Bed: Home, Sweet Home? (Stranger, #2)

Kristen James


Rated: 4.00 of 5 stars
4.00 ·
[?] · 1 ratings · Published: 23 Dec 2014

Stranger in my Bed: Home, Sweet Home? by Kristen James
Book 2: Home, Sweet Home?

I’m living with a stranger and tiptoeing over secrets. Strange memories shift into my brain, memories that I can’t explain. Despite all the evidence that Eli and I are married, I know something isn’t right. I’m pretty sure he’s spying on me. I wonder what Eli is hiding from me. For that matter, what is he hiding from? He’s keeping secrets, but are they related to my memory loss? Is something even bigger going on? I’m playing a double agent, working with him to rebuild a life while trying to uncover the truth.

A romantic thriller series with new novellas each month! Updates at http://writerkristenjames.com/strange...

Teaser:

“You have a tattoo?”

He pulls the shirt back off in one motion and sits on my side of the bed. Between his shoulder blades, there’s a set of wings with a dagger of some kind in front of it.

I graze my fingers over it, making him shiver. His response makes me pull my hand back.

“It’s okay.” He throws a look over his shoulder at me. We’re so close I can smell the scent of his skin—it makes me want to lean in and nuzzle my face. It’s a strange, fleeting feeling. A real feeling, though. That part feels good.

“This looks like…a military tattoo.”

“Got it in the Air Force,” he says like it’s common knowledge. “Oh… I know you don’t know, but it keeps happening. I have to stop and remember that you don’t remember.”

“It’s not the Air Force emblem,” I say, almost to myself. It’s very close, though. Here and now, I remind myself, but still I wonder about it.

“No, my own take on it. I liked the wing concept. That I can fly away.”

Lower on his side, the one tilted away from me, I spot a scar and lean over to look. It’s five inches long and thick.

“How did this happen?” I run my finger down it, but my heart thumps hard enough to hurt. It’s from a knife wound.

“Oh, that’s not from my service. I jumped out of a tree when I was twelve and a branch had a sharp point. It cut pretty deep.”

It looks like it’s not that old, and I’m sure it was a knife. I feel lightheaded suddenly. Am I creating an image of an open wound in his back or remembering it?
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