Release Date - September 8, 2020
Publisher - Montlake
I know I should stay away from Ian Parker.
But when my drug-dealing stepdad kicks me out, I have nowhere to go. Squatting in an abandoned shed on Ian’s grandpa’s farm seems like as good a plan as any.
Ian finds me there, of course, and he insists on me moving into his spare room. I should say no, but the appeal of a roof and a warm bed is too much. Not to mention Ian’s brown eyes and strong arms.
We’re nothing alike, but the spark between us is undeniable. My life is finally looking up.
Until I call the cops on my stepdad and unintentionally get my pregnant mom arrested.
Now I have to sacrifice my dreams to take care of my mom’s baby. She’s the only family I have left. Meanwhile, Ian’s band is taking off; his dreams are coming true.
Ian is my one
chance at love. I just hope he doesn’t become the one chance that got away.
My thoughts:
The Wreckage of Us is a beautiful love story about two broken people who find a deep friendship that turns into love. The story involves Hazel and Ian. Hazel has not had a great life. Her new job on the biggest ranch in her small town puts her directly in the path of Ian, the town heart breaker. Ian is holding a grudge against Hazel, indirectly blaming her for his parents' fall into drugs and out of his life. I read this in one sitting. I absolutely loved it.
The story was quite an emotional ride. There were some gut-wrenching scenes that both of our main characters have to work through. Just about every scene with Hazel and her mother broke my heart. What I loved about this romance was the way both Ian and Hazel worked to look past their preconceived ideas about the other person. I loved watching their friendship grow and become strong before they fell for each other. That Instagram post..talk about swoon worthy! The ending was perfect and I loved the peek forward. The secondary characters enhanced the story. Ian's grandparents were my favorite. I highly recommend this one.
Here is a sneak peek:
The
Wreckage of Us
Excerpt
A typical Eres Saturday night.
I wandered the ranch with a notebook and pen in my hand. I kept scribbling down lyrics and crossing them out before trying again to create something better, stronger—realer. I kept drumming my fingers against each other, trying to unlock the pieces that I was missing. As I paced back and forth, a voice broke me away from my mind.
“It’s the words.”
I looked up to see Hazel sitting in the rocking chair that Big Paw built for my mother years ago. I used to sit in Mom’s lap as she’d read me stories before bedtime all those years back.
There’d been
times I thought about getting rid of the chair in order to forget that memory,
but I hadn’t found the strength to let go just yet.
“What do you mean it’s the words?” I asked, walking up the steps of the porch. I leaned against the railing facing her.
She blinked and
tilted her head in my direction. “Your words are trash.”
“What?”
“The lyrics to your songs, they are complete garbage, filled with clichés and bubblegum. Don’t get me wrong, the music style and tempos are brilliant. And even though it pains me to admit, your voice is so solid and soulful that you could be a star in a heartbeat. But your lyrics? They are pig shit.”
“I think the saying is horseshit.”
“After spending weeks in a pig pen, pig shit seems to truly sum up my feelings about your music. But my gosh, your voice. It’s a good voice.”
I tried to push
off her insult, and tried to ignore her compliment, too. But it was hard. I had
an ego that was easy to bruise, and Hazel was swinging her punches while also
speaking words of praise. It was as if every bruise she made, she quickly
covered with a Bandaid.
Insult, compliment, insult, compliment. Wash, rinse, repeat.
“Everyone else seemed to enjoy it,” I replied, tense with my words.
“Yeah, well, everyone else are morons who are drunk off their minds.”
“Oh? And you think
you could do better?”
She laughed. “Without a doubt.” “Okay, Hazel Stone, master of lyrics, give me something to go with.”
She gestured toward the other rocker beside her—the one Dad used to sit in.
I sat down.
She pressed her lips together. “Okay. Give me one of your songs. One that you know is crap but are pretending isn’t crap.”
“They aren’t—”
“Lying isn’t going to get us far tonight, Ian.”
I narrowed my eyes and murmured a curse word before I began flipping through my notebook to find a song for Hazel to magically make better. “Fine. We can do Possibilities.”
“Hmm… What is it about?”
“A new relationship forming. I want to showcase those beginning feelings, you know? The fears and excitements. The nerves. The unknown. The—”
“First chapters of love,” she finished my thoughts.
“Yes, that.”
She took the pencil from behind my ear and took the notebook from my grip. “May I?”
“Please. Go for it.”
She began
scribbling, crossing things out, adding things in, doing whatever came to her
mind. She worked like a manwoman, falling into a world of creativity that I
didn’t think she’d held inside of her. The only thing I knew about Hazel Stone
was where she came from, and the clothes she wore. I hadn’t known anything
else, but now she was pouring herself out on the page, and I couldn’t wait to
see what the hell she was scribbling.
She took a breath and handed the notebook back to me. “If you hate it, no harm, no foul,” she said.
My eyes darted over the words. “It’s possible this is forever ours. It’s possible we’ll reach the stars. We’ll fight for this, we’ll make it real. Is it possible, possible, to show you how I feel?”
“Shit.” I blew
out a breath of air. “Hazel…that’s... It’s like you crawled into my head and
read the thoughts I couldn’t decipher. That’s the chorus. That’s it.”
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