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  • Lynn Veevers

Pre-Order For Eden's Echo Now Live


In 2018 I won an RWA contest, Elevation of Love, hosted by the lovely ladies at the #CIMRWA chapter! After months of revising and polishing...okay let's be honest 2 years, Eden's Echo is ready & available for Pre-order! Why did it take so long? Well, this particular book I wrote for my hubby & so it is very dear to my ♥️. For a while, I was thinking about not publishing it at all. But then my team of beta readers, along with two of my closest author friends, Mary Cook and Cynthia Haack, encouraged me to not give up, and I decided to move forward with publishing and designing the novel myself. It wasn't until I talked to my sister, Carolyn M. Walker Here's her author page: (https://www.facebook.com/carolynmwalkerwrites/)

that I realized as much as Eden's Echo has a romantic vein to it, this is NOT a Romance Novel at the core, it's a Romantic Suspense. Thank you, everyone, who is there and supports me through my times of writerly insanity, especially the one that has to put up with it the most, Andrew!

The book can be preordered here http://amazon.com/dp/B08796BV92


And the paperback will be available on May 15th, 2020.

Because I love y'all so much here is a sneak peek of a portion of Chapter One!


Chapter One

Forbidden Companion

He’d kill me if he ever found out the real reason I’d left, where I’d gone, or who I was with. The guilt welled up like it always did, and I shoved it from my mind. These things were nothing new, the inner turmoil, the lies. They’d been a part of my life for so long that I’d almost forgotten what it felt like, to tell the truth. No one likes a liar, but for me, lying was something of a necessity because telling the truth would get me a guaranteed, one-way ticket into a padded room. Lord knows it wouldn’t be the first time. I didn’t want Drew to think I was—crazy, but lying to him wasn’t an option any more than not seeing him at all. Dad would just have to kill me if he ever learned the truth of how I was spending my free time.


“What was your first memory,” Drew asked, still searching for moving objects in a star-splattered sky.


I glanced at my forbidden companion as we lay on the hood of his car. I should’ve expected a question like that. He wanted to know more about me, just as much as I needed to know more about him, but how was I supposed to explain that my first memory wasn’t mine—it was Echo’s.


He wants your first memory, Eden, not my last one, so tell him. Echo’s voice, with its all-knowing wisdom of sixteen years, bounced around in my mind, carrying notes of reassurance and encouragement. I was pleasantly surprised when answering Drew honestly wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.


“Fear—the first thing I can remember is fear.” I focused on the distant memory, allowing it to pull me into its embrace as I let the statement hang in the air between us. Talking about myself made me feel vulnerable, and being vulnerable made me want to lie.


He hiked a surprised brow, probably over the vagueness of my answer, “Well, what were you scared of? Do you remember?”


I learned early on in our friendship that Drew liked to have a complete understanding of everything, which is why we were playing the game of question and answer in the first place. I saw him studying me out of the corner of my eye, felt the prickly fingers of anxiety weaseling their way in, and prayed he couldn’t see how uncomfortable I’d become. I needed to focus on something else—anything else. As I glanced at his face, our gazes locked—time seemed to slow and narrow into that moment.


The light of a half-moon reflected off his eyes. He held me in their earthy hue, luring my body into shifting closer to his. Endless depths of moss green with subtle flecks of gold kept me captive, as my heart fought to escape my chest. The heat coursing through my body threatened to burn me from the inside out, and my breath caught as he leaned closer. Goosebumps skittered across my skin, and desire bloomed at my core as his hand, warm and strong, reached for mine, wrapping it in a possessive grasp. The simple gesture triggered a full body flush that tingled through me as his free arm snaked around my waist and pulled me across the remaining expanse of the cool, metal hood. We were a few inches apart when humid, Drew scented air flitted over my face as his breath hitched, and the pulse at his throat quickened. I felt him closing the distance at a slow, steady pace. Our first kiss—my first kiss, was hanging on the edge of his lips. I wanted to let go, but fear speared up and robbed us of the moment.

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