Today we have the release day blitz for Timarie’s new romantic thriller, PLEDGE OF ALLEGIANCE! Check it out and be sure to order your copy today!
Title: Pledge of Allegiance
Author: Timarie
Genre: Romantic Suspense
April 15, 2013, Patriots Day. The city of Boston, and all of the nation, was rocked by a terrorist attack at the historical Boston Marathon finish line. Countless people are affected by this tragedy, including Michael Farino and Ireland “Ilee” Murphy. Neither one of them could have predicted that the act of saving Ilee’s life would lead Michael on a journey of personal discovery, while a decades old war between their rival Boston crime families threatens their happiness and their lives. Michael and Ilee will have to pledge their allegiances to either their families or each other, but it is not that simple. Passion, secrets, betrayal and a very complicated past are working against Michael and Ilee. Nothing is ever as it seems… Nothing! The finish line is just their beginning….
After what feels like an eternity, the mystery man looks up at me. His extremely blue eyes pin me to the bed. He freezes when he sees me staring back. This is really awkward, partly because I have no clue who this person is and also because I find him unbelievably attractive.
I guess I’ll make the first move here. “Hi” is all I can manage in a shy voice.
He leans over and starts talking quietly. “Hi, how are you feeling? Do you remember me?” I swallow and with an ounce of embarrassment I say, “I’m sorry, I don’t.” He smiles and runs his thumb gently down my cheek gently and smiles at me. His touch, wow! It feels like he is leaving a trail of tingles that follow his thumb. Who the hell is this person? That is a rather intimate gesture. Should I be worried? “I’m Michael. I’m the one who helped you get to the hospital. I waited for you to get out of surgery yesterday and came up to see you when you left recovery, but you were still out of it.”
That’s right: I vaguely remember a man helping me. “I can never thank you enough for what you did for me. Without you I probably would have died on the sidewalk. Thank you isn’t enough, but it’s all I can say right now.”
He gives me a shy smile and is quiet for a moment. Then he speaks.
“You really don’t need to thank me. I’m just so relieved that you’re going to be OK. The doctors said you are going to need a lot of follow-up, but you’ll be able to walk and make a full recovery.”
I suddenly feel a little annoyed that this guy knows more about my condition than I do. “You spoke to the doctor?” I try to keep the edge out of my tone.
“Yeah, I was waiting here after the EMTs brought you in and they mistook me for your boyfriend. After you came out of surgery, Dr. Wong came out and told me you had to have a blood transfusion and they repaired muscle damage in your leg. He said you were lucky the damage was in one spot so he didn’t need to amputate.”
Amputate? What the fuck! No one mentioned amputation! Tears start streaming down my face. God, what is with me? I haven’t cried this much since I was 17. Now those memories make me cry more.
“Hey, it’s OK. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Everything is going to be fine.” He stands and leans down to cradle my head against his hard chest and kisses the top of my head. In a moment of weakness, I grab hold of his strong arms and bury my head in his chest. I take in his incredible scent and just cry as he comforts me. For the first time since I woke up last night, I feel safe. Too safe. I feel him kiss the top of my head again and hold me tighter and I am scared to realize I really like being in this stranger’s arms. I pull away and he releases me. “I’m sorry. Thank you. I’m usually not an overly emotional person. I just can’t make sense of any of this.” I don’t tell him the “this” I am referring to isn’t the accident, but rather my feelings toward this virtual stranger who saved my life.
Timarie was born and raised in East Boston, Massachusetts. To this very day, Timarie still only live a few miles outside of downtown Boston. Since her early teens, Timarie has been a singer/song writer. After university, she continued to work in music, while simultaneously developing her business acumen in the private sector. It wasn’t until shortly after the terrorist attacks at the Boston Marathon finish line, that Timarie’s creative vision for this literary series came into focus. Timarie continues to work in music, as well as being an active writer. In addition to the books in The Finish Line Series, Timarie has also authored three other books awaiting publication at the time of this printing. It is her hope to show the world that Boston is not just the birthplace of America, but also one of the most diverse, intriguing and culturally rich places in the country. As she always says, “Boston is always a supporting character in all of my books.” Nothing is more important to Timarie than her family and friends, which includes her beloved Maine Coon, Princess. Timarie is also a fierce advocate for racial, gender and LGBTQ+ equality. She promotes independent thinking and social positivity.
I guess I’ll make the first move here. “Hi” is all I can manage in a shy voice.
He leans over and starts talking quietly. “Hi, how are you feeling? Do you remember me?” I swallow and with an ounce of embarrassment I say, “I’m sorry, I don’t.” He smiles and runs his thumb gently down my cheek gently and smiles at me. His touch, wow! It feels like he is leaving a trail of tingles that follow his thumb. Who the hell is this person? That is a rather intimate gesture. Should I be worried? “I’m Michael. I’m the one who helped you get to the hospital. I waited for you to get out of surgery yesterday and came up to see you when you left recovery, but you were still out of it.”
That’s right: I vaguely remember a man helping me. “I can never thank you enough for what you did for me. Without you I probably would have died on the sidewalk. Thank you isn’t enough, but it’s all I can say right now.”
He gives me a shy smile and is quiet for a moment. Then he speaks.
“You really don’t need to thank me. I’m just so relieved that you’re going to be OK. The doctors said you are going to need a lot of follow-up, but you’ll be able to walk and make a full recovery.”
I suddenly feel a little annoyed that this guy knows more about my condition than I do. “You spoke to the doctor?” I try to keep the edge out of my tone.
“Yeah, I was waiting here after the EMTs brought you in and they mistook me for your boyfriend. After you came out of surgery, Dr. Wong came out and told me you had to have a blood transfusion and they repaired muscle damage in your leg. He said you were lucky the damage was in one spot so he didn’t need to amputate.”
Amputate? What the fuck! No one mentioned amputation! Tears start streaming down my face. God, what is with me? I haven’t cried this much since I was 17. Now those memories make me cry more.
“Hey, it’s OK. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Everything is going to be fine.” He stands and leans down to cradle my head against his hard chest and kisses the top of my head. In a moment of weakness, I grab hold of his strong arms and bury my head in his chest. I take in his incredible scent and just cry as he comforts me. For the first time since I woke up last night, I feel safe. Too safe. I feel him kiss the top of my head again and hold me tighter and I am scared to realize I really like being in this stranger’s arms. I pull away and he releases me. “I’m sorry. Thank you. I’m usually not an overly emotional person. I just can’t make sense of any of this.” I don’t tell him the “this” I am referring to isn’t the accident, but rather my feelings toward this virtual stranger who saved my life.
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