Lovely Trigger (Tristan & Danika) (Volume 3)

Lovely Trigger (Tristan & Danika) (Volume 3)

R.K. Lilley

Language: English

Pages: 354

ISBN: 1628780096

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


BOOK THREE: TRISTAN & DANIKA THE IMPACT Tristan hit rock bottom, and no one felt the impact harder than Danika. She was forced to see, in the most brutal of ways, that love does not conquer all. Bruised, bloody, and broken she had to walk away. THE AFTERMATH Picking up the pieces of your life after a tragedy is a daunting prospect, and that’s considering you still own all of the pieces. But what if you don’t? What if someone else owns those pieces, and those pieces are a part of your soul? You dig deep and work with what you’ve got. That’s what Danika told herself and believed, every single day, for years. Tristan and Danika’s love had failed every test that life had thrown at them. She couldn’t forget that, not for one second. And if those tests had been overly harsh, well, she wasn’t one to wallow in self-pity. The failure was the thing she had to focus on. The failure was the lesson. She had no intention of working so hard to make it out of hell without learning that lesson well. THE REUNION Over six years after the night that changed everything, Danika finds herself forced to spend the weekend constantly in Tristan’s company, as they attend the wedding of two of their dearest friends. It’s been long enough that she feels they can be friendly again without it destroying her peace of mind, but just a small amount of time in his presence has her remembering something she had forced herself to forget: There’d been a reason she’d gone through hell with this man, for this man, some true good to precede the bad. She shocks herself by quickly giving in to a hunger that she never imagined could still consume her. Even the best intentioned denial has a breaking point. THE HARSH REALITY After everything that’s happened, the rise and the fall, the pain and the aftermath, can these two navigate the waters of acute regret, survive the trials of coming face to face with all that they have lost, and find the strength to try again? This book is intended for readers 18 and up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

night. Awake or asleep, I couldn’t escape the fact that my body had straight up turned on me. It was the most delicious sort of agony, to be constantly throbbing from within.  Every single one of my senses had been brought to life. He arrived, got one look at me, and became very formal, almost stiff. I was taken aback, because without even so much as a kiss on the cheek, he asked to be shown some specific photographs in the current featured collection, as though he’d done research on it.

blackmail purposes.” “Boo, you can take pictures of me buried in your pink anytime you like.” I pulled his hair for that one. “I need to give you fair warning.  I ran into Natalie earlier, before the race, so she’s here somewhere.” I stiffened.  “Twatalie Natalie?  She’s still hanging around?” I felt his shoulders shift under my thighs.  He was getting uncomfortable, which made me stiffen even more. “She works at the casino.  Has for years.  She bartends at Decadence on the weekends, and

after that?  Not me.  I could barely focus on the road while driving there, nearly ran myself onto the shoulder as my mind ran rampant with visions of the encounter in my office and then continued to wander to the night ahead. I had to ring the doorbell several times before a shirtless Tristan opened the door. He was gleaming with sweat.  It would have taken inhuman willpower not to drink in every inch of his muscled, tatted up body. And I was human.  Oh Lord, was I human. He’d clearly

after that?  Not me.  I could barely focus on the road while driving there, nearly ran myself onto the shoulder as my mind ran rampant with visions of the encounter in my office and then continued to wander to the night ahead. I had to ring the doorbell several times before a shirtless Tristan opened the door. He was gleaming with sweat.  It would have taken inhuman willpower not to drink in every inch of his muscled, tatted up body. And I was human.  Oh Lord, was I human. He’d clearly

a slit up the thigh, and showed off enough cleavage that I was surprised she’d worn it to a funeral. Maybe they didn’t make dresses that could carry that much boob without some of it spilling out, I thought snidely.  Yes, I knew it was bitchy. The only telltale sign of her grief at first sight were her slightly red eyes, and the fact that she threw herself into Tristan’s big arms the second she saw him. I determined not to say a word.  They’d been close friends for years, and I didn’t blame

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