Today we have the release day blitz for Amy Murray’s Drift! I am so excited to share this new contemporary romance with you! Check out the release festivities and grab your copy today!
I’m not crazy. My mother may have died with everyone believing she was insane, but I refuse to accept that as my fate. Even if I am recalling memories about a life I never lived. A life that includes the mysterious James—a guy I’ve only just met, but feel as if I’ve known all my life. The memories are coming hard and fast, and I’m falling down a rabbit hole with consequences that far exceed anything I could have ever imagined. And now, someone is trying to kill me.
Someone from my past who knows about my visions and is looking for something he believes I took from him. All I have to do is figure out how these memories relate to the present and maybe I’ll survive to live another day.
I gasped with every step, running at a pace I couldn’t sustain. James pulled me behind him, his strides so long I could hardly keep up. I stumbled, and the tiny button holding the ankle strap on my shoe broke in our haste. I kicked it off and left it behind so I could move faster, but now my footfalls were lopsided and awkward.
“In here,” he said as he pulled me into a dark alley between two buildings. There were no streetlights, nothing to light the blackened shadows, and the fright trembling inside of me was a living, breathing thing.
“What do we do?” My voice quivered between panic and exhaustion. “Where do we go?”
He pushed me farther into the shadows until my back pressed against the cool brick wall. My black and white satin dress stuck uncomfortably to my sweat-slicked skin, and my purse slipped from my fingers, dropping to the ground with a clink.
James placed a hand over my mouth and whispered in my ear. “Whatever happens, stay quiet. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.”
His hands moved to my cheeks before linking behind my neck.
I shook my head, and tears filled my eyes. “I don’t know what you mean. I don’t understand.”
“Promise me.” His eyes were wide and urgent. His voice was soft but pleading.
“James, I’m scared.” His body pressed against mine, and he kissed me hard and fast.
“Promise me,” he said against my lips.
I didn’t want to and shook my head in disagreement. His thumbs grazed my cheeks, and he kissed me again. “Please.”
I heard the desperation in his voice—the despair—and there was nothing I wouldn’t do to erase that sound. My lips moved before my mind registered what I’d done. “I promise.”
He grabbed my hands. “Do you trust me?” “Yes,” I said.
He pulled me from the wall and turned me to my left. “Now jump.”
In front of me was a freshly dug hole about three feet wide, and just as I was about to protest, he pushed. There was a brief sensation of weightlessness before I landed with a thud, and the shallow puddle of water at the bottom did nothing to break my fall. I moved to my right and into the shadows, expecting James to follow me.
When he didn’t, I peered up to find him standing above
“James?” I asked. He tossed something down, and I
stared at my purse lying at my feet. “James,” I said again. Hysteria rose inside my throat, but it was nothing compared to the crippling panic that seized my voice when he pulled a grate over the opening.
The sky was black above him, and his face was impossible to see. “Remember your promise,” he said. He stepped away, and my knees buckled under the weight of his decision. Choking on a sob, I was left alone with nothing more than the silence of my broken heart.
Amy Murray graduated from the University of Houston with a B.S. in Psychology. She is a CrossFit addict, proud Harry Potter enthusiast, and obsessed with modern quilting. She and her family live in Cypress, Texas.