Series: In Denver #1-3
Author: R Colora
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Dates: Kennedy in Denver: June 6, 2015
Estelle in Denver: July 7, 2015
Katie in Denver: October 10, 2015
Cover Designs: The Graphics Shed
***Warning: These books contain several erotic love scenes, strong language, violence and
are intended for adult readers only. Book 2 may also contain triggers for abuse survivors.***
Summary:
Kennedy Brennan was just about to start her life after graduating from the Barton Music Conservatory. She and her three best friends decide to have one last night out before the graduation ceremony the next morning.
Accepting drinks from a secret admirer brings her life to a screeching halt. After waking up from a coma and facing her attacker during a trial, she changes her identity and starts a new life in Denver. Finding an old run down building across the street from her favorite bakery, she plans to start a Music Conservatory of her own.
The only thing standing in her way is Billionaire Real Estate Developer and One of America’s Most Eligible Bachelors Easton Kerrigan.
Kennedy and Easton's Story is the beginning of a six book series involving The Kerrigan Siblings and Friends.
All books are standalone and have a Happily Ever After for the main characters.
These books will contain extremely dark subject matter and the couples face a lot of hardships before they find their HEA.
This book contains GRAPHIC SEX SCENES, STRONG LANGUAGE, and VIOLENCE.
Summary:
Left for dead...how do you come back from that? You don't. Estelle has no choice but to start over.
Enrolling in school for the first time in her life, and working for her best friend Kennedy is the start to her new life.
She and Rhydian Kerrigan have been flirting for the last couple months.
Rhydian tempts Estelle to forget the danger. Only with Estelle's past, things are never that easy.
Her father wants the flash drive she carries around her neck the information on it could put him and his associates away for the rest of their lives.
If it comes down to it, can Estelle kill her enemy before he kills her?
After spending more than a year getting ready, Estelle is ready for anything that comes her way.
Once things are settled, will she be ready to heal enough to learn to love and be loved in return?
Estelle and Rhydian's Story is book two of a seven book series involving The Kerrigan Siblings and Friends.
All books are standalone and have a Happily Ever After for the main characters.
These books will contain extremely dark subject matter and the couples face a lot of hardships before they find their HEA.
Some Scenes in Estelle's story maybe hard to read for abuse victims.
Summary:
Katie Blackwell loved Michael Kerrigan from the first moment he stopped her at an outdoor festival. She was fourteen and he was sixteen. For two years Micheal and Katie were inseparable; they were each others first loves. They experienced all their firsts together.
Finding out she is pregnant at sixteen was not part of Katie's plan. When she tells Michael, he informs her that he has been accepted to an ivy league school; he has no intentions of staying in Denver to play the role of teen dad.
Scared and alone Katie has to decide if she is going to terminate her pregnancy or keep the baby she already loves.
Nine years later Katie and Micheal will cross paths and past secrets will come to light. Can mistakes be forgiven? Can first love be rekindled, or will past heartache and betrayal be to much to overcome?
Kennedy in Denver #1
When the doors open, I see a giant of a man occupies it. He’s easily six foot five and takes up most of the height of the elevator. He has the same blue eyes and raven colored hair as Stacy. He looks up from his phone, and our eyes lock. A slow smile spreads across his face.
“Going down?” he says with a grin on his face as if he knows he is God’s gift to women.
“I will catch the next one.” I answer sarcastically.
He nods then lets the doors close. I finally take a breath. Holy shit! It’s my dream man, the lumberjack version of Ian Somerhalder. My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. The man in the elevator must be another figment of my imagination. Yes, that’s it. It's just like when I saw the girls in the theatre. After a few minutes the door dings and opens, I step forward but stop. The man is still in the elevator. I step back from the door. Nope, it wasn’t my imagination. He’s real, and he seems to like riding on the elevator. I look right then left for the staircase. This man makes me nervous.
“Are you going down, sir? I don't like being in confined places with strangers. Can you please just take the elevator down and get out. I will take the next one.” His gaze travels from my head to my feet and then back up.
His voice is deep and seductive. “Get in the elevator,” he says in a husky voice.
I take another step back as he takes a step forward.
“Easton.” I hear a voice behind me call. While he is distracted, I barely make it into the elevator as the doors close.
“Fuck!” he shouts, but it's too late. The elevator has already started its descent. Out on the street, I let myself feel discouraged. I pictured exactly what I wanted, but now that’s not an option. Okay, Kennedy, time to put your thinking cap on.
I make it into the parking garage when I feel a hand grab my shoulder. On reflex I slide my foot back, knock him off balance, then grab his hand and bend it back, applying as much pressure into his pressure point as I can before taking him to the ground in an arm bar. I hear footsteps, and I look up to see a security guard with a perplexed looked on his face.
“Mr. Kerrigan, are you ok, sir?” I release his arm and stand up brushing myself off.
“I don't like being touched. You shouldn't sneak up on women in parking garages.” Easton looks more angry than embarrassed. “I'm going now. Don't follow me.”
“Sir, do you want me to detain her?” the security guard asks.
“If either of you take a step toward me, I will snap your neck before you ever lay a hand on me!”
I turn around, get in my truck and gun it out of the parking garage.
Estelle in Denver #2
"Momma, can we go to the park tomorrow?"
"Mon trésor, I shall even buy you ice cream!"
"Really, Momma?"
"Yes, my love, now close your eyes and remember, my heart. Il n'est rien de réel que le rêve et l'amour."
"I love you, Momma."
“I love you too, Estelle."
Momma and Papa are yelling again.
"Please, Edwin, this does not have to be our life! We can go to France, or to Argentina, and have a life away from these men you have gotten involved with. Please, Edwin! I beg you, do it for me and Estelle." I hear Momma say.
"You don’t understand, Celine. I have power here—money and wealth! What, you think I will go back to Argentina to work for my father? Working in his fields, harvesting grapes? These are the hands of a businessman, not a farm hand. We can’t go back to France! You have no family, you will never dance with the Paris Ballet again, what would you have us do, Celine?" he yells.
"Anything but this, Edwin. You are becoming someone I do not even know! You come home with blood on your clothes, or smelling of liquor and cheap perfume. This is not a life to raise a child in."
"Celine, you see this beautiful mansion you call a home and the fine clothes you wear, the people that clean this house for you and cook your meals? Next time you go to your fancy shops you remember the blood on my clothes put that money in your hands."
"Edwin, please!" Momma says. I hear noises, Papa is hurting Momma again. I hear her begging him to stop, so I get out of bed and tiptoe out of my room. I see him hitting Momma with the belt. Papa turns around and I run back to my room.
"Mon trésor, wake up my love."
“Momma?” she has her coat on.
"I'm sleepy, Momma."
"I know, my love, but we must go! Come quickly!"
I take my Momma’s hand, but when we step out of my room, I see my Papa; he looks angry. "Celine, where do you think you are going?"
"I'm taking Estelle and we are going away. You can live in this giant house with your secrets and your whores, but my daughter will not be raised like this."
"Mon trésor, I want you to sit on your bed. I will come to collect you as soon as possible."
Momma closes my door and I hear the shouting, so I open the door and look. Papa grabs Momma by her coat and throws her down the stairs. I hear Momma scream, then I hear nothing.
I make my way out of my room to the stairs. I see Momma laying at the bottom of the stairs; she isn't moving and her eyes are open. I know she isn't asleep. I see my Papa on the phone, and a few minutes later two men come in with a blue plastic sheet. They put Momma on it and carry her out. Papa follows them out the door. I wait on the stairs for Momma to come get me, but she never comes back.
Katie in Denver #3
“Please come this way,” the nurse says. “We need to do an ultrasound to determine how far along you are. If you’re under nine weeks, you can choose to take the abortion pill but if you’re over nine weeks, then you need to have an in-clinic surgical procedure.” I can feel the panic starting to set in. The nurse takes my hand.
“Listen, you haven’t made any decision yet. You can walk out of here right now if that’s what you want.” I nod but don’t respond.
I just sit on the examining table in silence. The nurse instructs me to pull my shirt up, and she squirts some kind of gel on my stomach; it’s really cold. Slowly, she moves the wand around.
“You look to be about sixteen weeks so if you wanted to proceed today it would have to be a surgical abortion. I can explain the procedure, we have a coach that can come in and hold your hand while you have the procedure,” she says with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
I look at the small dot on the screen and then she turns a dial, and I hear it: I hear my baby’s heartbeat and everything becomes so clear to me.
She goes to turn it off when she sees the tears running down my face, but I grab her hand. “Please, I just want to hear it a little longer.” I reach my hand out and touch the screen. She is clicking buttons, and I see pictures coming out the side of the machine. I don't even ask for them, I just snatch the pictures from the machine and grip them for dear life. I want to remember this moment; I want to remember the moment I stopped living for me, and I started living for my child. I look at the nurse and start getting off the exam table. “I’m not doing it, can I please go?”
She smiles. “Yes, let me get you cleaned up and you can go. You have a few more weeks if you change your mind,” she adds.
“No, I know I want my baby even if no one else does. Thank you for being so nice,” I say before running to the waiting room.
When the doors open, I see a giant of a man occupies it. He’s easily six foot five and takes up most of the height of the elevator. He has the same blue eyes and raven colored hair as Stacy. He looks up from his phone, and our eyes lock. A slow smile spreads across his face.
“Going down?” he says with a grin on his face as if he knows he is God’s gift to women.
“I will catch the next one.” I answer sarcastically.
He nods then lets the doors close. I finally take a breath. Holy shit! It’s my dream man, the lumberjack version of Ian Somerhalder. My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. The man in the elevator must be another figment of my imagination. Yes, that’s it. It's just like when I saw the girls in the theatre. After a few minutes the door dings and opens, I step forward but stop. The man is still in the elevator. I step back from the door. Nope, it wasn’t my imagination. He’s real, and he seems to like riding on the elevator. I look right then left for the staircase. This man makes me nervous.
“Are you going down, sir? I don't like being in confined places with strangers. Can you please just take the elevator down and get out. I will take the next one.” His gaze travels from my head to my feet and then back up.
His voice is deep and seductive. “Get in the elevator,” he says in a husky voice.
I take another step back as he takes a step forward.
“Easton.” I hear a voice behind me call. While he is distracted, I barely make it into the elevator as the doors close.
“Fuck!” he shouts, but it's too late. The elevator has already started its descent. Out on the street, I let myself feel discouraged. I pictured exactly what I wanted, but now that’s not an option. Okay, Kennedy, time to put your thinking cap on.
I make it into the parking garage when I feel a hand grab my shoulder. On reflex I slide my foot back, knock him off balance, then grab his hand and bend it back, applying as much pressure into his pressure point as I can before taking him to the ground in an arm bar. I hear footsteps, and I look up to see a security guard with a perplexed looked on his face.
“Mr. Kerrigan, are you ok, sir?” I release his arm and stand up brushing myself off.
“I don't like being touched. You shouldn't sneak up on women in parking garages.” Easton looks more angry than embarrassed. “I'm going now. Don't follow me.”
“Sir, do you want me to detain her?” the security guard asks.
“If either of you take a step toward me, I will snap your neck before you ever lay a hand on me!”
I turn around, get in my truck and gun it out of the parking garage.
Estelle in Denver #2
"Momma, can we go to the park tomorrow?"
"Mon trésor, I shall even buy you ice cream!"
"Really, Momma?"
"Yes, my love, now close your eyes and remember, my heart. Il n'est rien de réel que le rêve et l'amour."
"I love you, Momma."
“I love you too, Estelle."
Momma and Papa are yelling again.
"Please, Edwin, this does not have to be our life! We can go to France, or to Argentina, and have a life away from these men you have gotten involved with. Please, Edwin! I beg you, do it for me and Estelle." I hear Momma say.
"You don’t understand, Celine. I have power here—money and wealth! What, you think I will go back to Argentina to work for my father? Working in his fields, harvesting grapes? These are the hands of a businessman, not a farm hand. We can’t go back to France! You have no family, you will never dance with the Paris Ballet again, what would you have us do, Celine?" he yells.
"Anything but this, Edwin. You are becoming someone I do not even know! You come home with blood on your clothes, or smelling of liquor and cheap perfume. This is not a life to raise a child in."
"Celine, you see this beautiful mansion you call a home and the fine clothes you wear, the people that clean this house for you and cook your meals? Next time you go to your fancy shops you remember the blood on my clothes put that money in your hands."
"Edwin, please!" Momma says. I hear noises, Papa is hurting Momma again. I hear her begging him to stop, so I get out of bed and tiptoe out of my room. I see him hitting Momma with the belt. Papa turns around and I run back to my room.
"Mon trésor, wake up my love."
“Momma?” she has her coat on.
"I'm sleepy, Momma."
"I know, my love, but we must go! Come quickly!"
I take my Momma’s hand, but when we step out of my room, I see my Papa; he looks angry. "Celine, where do you think you are going?"
"I'm taking Estelle and we are going away. You can live in this giant house with your secrets and your whores, but my daughter will not be raised like this."
"Mon trésor, I want you to sit on your bed. I will come to collect you as soon as possible."
Momma closes my door and I hear the shouting, so I open the door and look. Papa grabs Momma by her coat and throws her down the stairs. I hear Momma scream, then I hear nothing.
I make my way out of my room to the stairs. I see Momma laying at the bottom of the stairs; she isn't moving and her eyes are open. I know she isn't asleep. I see my Papa on the phone, and a few minutes later two men come in with a blue plastic sheet. They put Momma on it and carry her out. Papa follows them out the door. I wait on the stairs for Momma to come get me, but she never comes back.
Katie in Denver #3
“Please come this way,” the nurse says. “We need to do an ultrasound to determine how far along you are. If you’re under nine weeks, you can choose to take the abortion pill but if you’re over nine weeks, then you need to have an in-clinic surgical procedure.” I can feel the panic starting to set in. The nurse takes my hand.
“Listen, you haven’t made any decision yet. You can walk out of here right now if that’s what you want.” I nod but don’t respond.
I just sit on the examining table in silence. The nurse instructs me to pull my shirt up, and she squirts some kind of gel on my stomach; it’s really cold. Slowly, she moves the wand around.
“You look to be about sixteen weeks so if you wanted to proceed today it would have to be a surgical abortion. I can explain the procedure, we have a coach that can come in and hold your hand while you have the procedure,” she says with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
I look at the small dot on the screen and then she turns a dial, and I hear it: I hear my baby’s heartbeat and everything becomes so clear to me.
She goes to turn it off when she sees the tears running down my face, but I grab her hand. “Please, I just want to hear it a little longer.” I reach my hand out and touch the screen. She is clicking buttons, and I see pictures coming out the side of the machine. I don't even ask for them, I just snatch the pictures from the machine and grip them for dear life. I want to remember this moment; I want to remember the moment I stopped living for me, and I started living for my child. I look at the nurse and start getting off the exam table. “I’m not doing it, can I please go?”
She smiles. “Yes, let me get you cleaned up and you can go. You have a few more weeks if you change your mind,” she adds.
“No, I know I want my baby even if no one else does. Thank you for being so nice,” I say before running to the waiting room.
Writing a book takes a lot of energy not just the energy of the person telling the story, but the Editor, Proofreader, Beta Readers, ARC Readers, Cover Designer, Formatter, and bloggers or Promotional Team. You can't write a book for free an author has to pay for those words in a Plain Document to become something on your Kindle App or in your Hand.
As a writer, you don't expect everyone to LOVE or even LIKE what you write, but writers don't write to be praised they write because they enjoy it and it's satisfying. when your see something that was in your head transformed into an actual book the feeling is indescribable. I remember when I was young I use to think I would be a writer when I grew up up like most adults learn, Life happens and you have to put aside your childish dreams and work, provide, sacrifice. I live in this real world where every day is is struggle, so I made up a world of Billionaires and Superstars, in my books with all these characters beauty and charmed lives they still face semi-real life situation that is why I write fiction, it suppose to be over the top and unbelievable, if anyone has found any real life Werewolf or Bear shifters let me know!!!!
So with that said no matter how many one star reviews I get I will still keep telling my stories, you don't have to love them and you don't have to like them and I might be the worst author in the history of Amazon, but that's okay because I'm doing what I told my younger self I couldn't do.
Kennedy in Denver #1
Estelle in Denver #2
Katie in Denver #3
