MIDNIGHT VALENTINE
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Author: J.T. Geissinger
Release Date: February 6, 2018
A hauntingly powerful love story in the tradition of The Notebook and The Time Traveler’s Wife.
“How can you remember someone you’ve never met?”
Megan and Cassidy were childhood sweethearts who thought they’d be together forever, but fate had other plans. Soon after they were married, Cass’s life was tragically cut short. Still grieving her soul mate five years later, Megan moves to the small town of Seaside, Oregon, hoping to rebuild her life.
Her first night there, she meets the town recluse, Theo. Withdrawn, guarded, and mysteriously silent since a terrible accident left him scarred, Theo takes an instant and inexplicable dislike to Megan. But as their paths cross again and again, Megan becomes convinced there’s more to Theo than meets the eye.
When she discovers the reason for his silence, his nightmares, and especially his pointed dislike, Megan becomes convinced of something far more astonishing.
Is a second chance at a once-in-a-lifetime love possible, or is a broken heart the cruelest kind of liar?
After the warmth of the house, the rain beckons to me. I cross the patio and step out on to the grass. It’s springy beneath my feet, pleasant to walk on. I go about ten yards out, past the reach of the lights, then stop, close my eyes, and lift my face to the rain.
I open my mouth to catch a few cool, sweet drops on my tongue. I hear muffled laughter and music from inside, the sound of voices floating to me on the night air. Then I hear the words that haunt me the most, the thing Cass used to whisper into my ear every night before we fell asleep in each other’s arms. The last thing he said to me before he died.
I love you, sweet pea. I’ll love you ’til the end of time.
How long will it be until I can no longer remember the sound of his voice? How many years does it take to forget the love of your life? Will I wake up one day and the memory of his kiss have vanished, trampled to dust by the relentless forward march of time?
“Babe,” I whisper, my heart twisting. “I miss you so much. Why did you leave me?”
A tingle like a mild electric shock zings up my spine. From one heartbeat to the next, I realize I’m not alone.
My eyes fly open. I swing around and look back toward the house. I’m momentarily blinded by the lights, but when my eyes adjust, I see a figure in the shadows leaning against one side of the columns that support the patio.
It’s a man. A big man with wide shoulders and long legs. His hands are shoved deep into the pockets of his black raincoat. The hood of the raincoat is pulled over his head, but even in the shadows I can see the glint of his dark eyes.
He stares at me with an unblinking gaze, his expression grim.
Theo.
As if he heard his name in my mind, he straightens. He pulls his hands from his pockets and stands there staring at me with his hands flexed open like some kind of psychopath about to pounce on me and wring my neck.
That doesn’t scare me so much as piss me off. I call out, “Lurk much, pal?”
When he doesn’t respond—because, oh, yeah, talking isn’t his thing—I take a few steps toward him. Simultaneously, he takes a few steps back. When I stop, he stops. Then we stare at each other while I try to decide if I should find a rock to throw at him or calm down and act like an adult.
I’m embarrassed he caught me standing alone in the rain, talking to myself, but it isn’t his fault I’m strange.
When his gaze sweeps over me, snagging on my chest before flashing back up to my face, I realize several things at once.
One, I’m not wearing a bra. Unlike Suzanne’s double Ds, my B cups don’t require scaffolding to hold them up. Two, I’ve been standing in the rain in a white T-shirt, which means, three, I’m probably giving this non-talking Theo quite a show.
I hunch my shoulders, grab my shirt, and pull it away from my stomach, trying to make all that look nonchalant.
He doesn’t move. He doesn’t look away. He just stands there, staring, his jaw like granite and his black eyes burning holes into my head.
The tingle in my spine increases until it feels like an itch.
A former headhunter, J.T. Geissinger is the author of more than a dozen novels in contemporary romance, paranormal romance, and romantic suspense.
She is the recipient of the Prism Award for Best First Book, the Golden Quill Award for Best Paranormal/Urban Fantasy, and is a two-time finalist for the RITA® Award from the Romance Writers of America®. Her work has also finaled in the Booksellers’ Best, National Readers’ Choice, and Daphne du Maurier Awards.
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