Title: Elliott Redeemed
(Preload #2)
Author: Scarlett Cole
Publication date: August 29th, 2017
Category/Genre: Adult Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Swerve
A single mom and tortured musician find common
ground in Scarlett Cole's Elliott
Redeemed, the second standalone romance about the band Preload.
Elliott
“Pyro” Dawson burns up the lead guitar like a legend. But the nickname Pyro
isn’t just a clever play on words. It’s much darker. A past he's fought like
hell to overcome.
Grocery
store cashier Kendalee Walker is at her wits end and homeless. She's watched
her fourteen-year-old son, Daniel, go so far off the rails, he can no longer
see the tracks.
When the two
are brought together, attraction flares, but can Elliott find the family he
never had with the sexy woman and her son, or will he fall back on dangerous
habits?
When
all the wood was finally stacked next to his clearing, Elliott dove into the
lake to cool down. Excitement began to trickle through his veins. Once he was
cool, he dried off a little and wandered into the house to get one of the
now-cold beers and his box of supplies.
The
piano intro to “Pretending” started, and he laughed. Shuffle was reading his
fucking mind.
He
walked back to the fire pit and put the box down carefully on one of the
Muskoka chairs nearby. He took a swig of beer, eyed his supplies, and ran his
hand over the rough logs. He’d build a stack of pallets and logs similar to an inukshuk. The Inuit had used them as
landmarks, and it would be one for him. It would mark home.
Elliott
took his time sorting the logs into pairs of similar sizes and began to
cautiously stack them. If they fell over too soon as they burned, it would ruin
the effect, so he used some of the smaller pieces to build a frame to stop the
logs from rolling. Periodically, he would lay a wooden pallet across the logs.
When he’d used up his supplies, the structure was nearly as tall as he was.
Need coursed through him. The matches were in the box, calling to him as they
always did. The compulsion, the urges were so very strong. But giving into the
gratification too soon ruined everything. By holding out, he could convince
himself that he was the one in control. And, anyway, lighting it before it was
truly dark would ruin the effect.
Forcing
himself to put one foot in front of the other, he turned away and walked back
into the house to make some supper. He cut up the pre-cooked chicken and served
himself some of the ready-made sides he’d picked up at Loblaws, periodically
looking out the window to check his structure. It would burn well, the pallets
igniting faster than the logs, sending flames high into the air. Elliott took a
step toward the door, desperate to strike the first match, but then turned
back. He forced himself to grab a fork from the drawer, another beer from the
fridge, and the plate from the counter, and wandered outside, taking a seat on
the patio.
The
sun went down as he ate his fill. Thoughts of Kendalee spending another night
in the hospital eating takeout food kept going through his mind, and he
wondered what she would think of him if she knew this was the reason he’d had
to get out of Toronto for a couple of days.
Why
did he think he was capable of helping Daniel when he couldn’t even stop
himself? Daniel needed someone stronger than him. Someone who had enough self-control
to take the extra few minutes to clean up the dirty dishes from dinner before
stepping down toward the pier.
Elliott
opened the box reverently, and pulled out his favorite lighter. He loved the
sound it made as his thumb ran quickly over its rough surface. At his command,
it came to life, a flame snapping high into the dark night. He grabbed four
long matches and placed all four tips into the flame at once. They hissed to
life, the smell of sulphur filling his nostrils, calming him as much as it excited
him.
There
was no way he’d ever be good enough for someone like Kendalee. He placed the
first long match down in the corner of the fire pit, watching as the kindling
took hold. He walked to the next corner and repeated the action, savoring the
crackle and snap of the wood in the fire’s path. The heat began to lick at his
skin, but he couldn’t step away. He would never be able to tell her why he
understood Daniel, and that would always get in the way. He placed a match in
the third corner and breathed deeply in a bid to control his heart rate. Moving
quickly, he stepped to the fourth corner, but before he placed the match in the
tinder, he ran it along the underside of his arm, pausing near his elbow. He
grit his teeth tightly as the heat seared his skin. The bite of it cleared all
thoughts from his head. Thoughts of the band, the tour, a small boy in the
hospital, and a strawberry blonde he wanted to know better. None of them could
compete with this.
Delicately,
he placed the fourth match down and stepped back. The whole structure roared to
life as flames climbed the wood.
Fire
would always be his mistress. He didn’t have room for anyone else.
When
all the wood was finally stacked next to his clearing, Elliott dove into the
lake to cool down. Excitement began to trickle through his veins. Once he was
cool, he dried off a little and wandered into the house to get one of the
now-cold beers and his box of supplies.
The
piano intro to “Pretending” started, and he laughed. Shuffle was reading his
fucking mind.
He
walked back to the fire pit and put the box down carefully on one of the
Muskoka chairs nearby. He took a swig of beer, eyed his supplies, and ran his
hand over the rough logs. He’d build a stack of pallets and logs similar to an inukshuk. The Inuit had used them as
landmarks, and it would be one for him. It would mark home.
Elliott
took his time sorting the logs into pairs of similar sizes and began to
cautiously stack them. If they fell over too soon as they burned, it would ruin
the effect, so he used some of the smaller pieces to build a frame to stop the
logs from rolling. Periodically, he would lay a wooden pallet across the logs.
When he’d used up his supplies, the structure was nearly as tall as he was.
Need coursed through him. The matches were in the box, calling to him as they
always did. The compulsion, the urges were so very strong. But giving into the
gratification too soon ruined everything. By holding out, he could convince
himself that he was the one in control. And, anyway, lighting it before it was
truly dark would ruin the effect.
Forcing
himself to put one foot in front of the other, he turned away and walked back
into the house to make some supper. He cut up the pre-cooked chicken and served
himself some of the ready-made sides he’d picked up at Loblaws, periodically
looking out the window to check his structure. It would burn well, the pallets
igniting faster than the logs, sending flames high into the air. Elliott took a
step toward the door, desperate to strike the first match, but then turned
back. He forced himself to grab a fork from the drawer, another beer from the
fridge, and the plate from the counter, and wandered outside, taking a seat on
the patio.
The
sun went down as he ate his fill. Thoughts of Kendalee spending another night
in the hospital eating takeout food kept going through his mind, and he
wondered what she would think of him if she knew this was the reason he’d had
to get out of Toronto for a couple of days.
Why
did he think he was capable of helping Daniel when he couldn’t even stop
himself? Daniel needed someone stronger than him. Someone who had enough self-control
to take the extra few minutes to clean up the dirty dishes from dinner before
stepping down toward the pier.
Elliott
opened the box reverently, and pulled out his favorite lighter. He loved the
sound it made as his thumb ran quickly over its rough surface. At his command,
it came to life, a flame snapping high into the dark night. He grabbed four
long matches and placed all four tips into the flame at once. They hissed to
life, the smell of sulphur filling his nostrils, calming him as much as it excited
him.
There
was no way he’d ever be good enough for someone like Kendalee. He placed the
first long match down in the corner of the fire pit, watching as the kindling
took hold. He walked to the next corner and repeated the action, savoring the
crackle and snap of the wood in the fire’s path. The heat began to lick at his
skin, but he couldn’t step away. He would never be able to tell her why he
understood Daniel, and that would always get in the way. He placed a match in
the third corner and breathed deeply in a bid to control his heart rate. Moving
quickly, he stepped to the fourth corner, but before he placed the match in the
tinder, he ran it along the underside of his arm, pausing near his elbow. He
grit his teeth tightly as the heat seared his skin. The bite of it cleared all
thoughts from his head. Thoughts of the band, the tour, a small boy in the
hospital, and a strawberry blonde he wanted to know better. None of them could
compete with this.
Delicately,
he placed the fourth match down and stepped back. The whole structure roared to
life as flames climbed the wood.
Fire
would always be his mistress. He didn’t have room for anyone else.
4 “Fire & Rock’n’Roll” Stars
ARC via NetGalley.
Thank you, Swerve!
Born in
England, Scarlett Cole traveled the
world, living in Japan and the United States before settling in Canada where
she met her own personal hero – all six and a half feet of him. She now lives
with her husband and children in Manchester, England where she's at work on her
next book. She is the author of The
Strongest Steel.
Website: http://www.scarlettcole.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ItsScarlettCole
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/scarlettcole/
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