Soul Mates Book 2
From the busy city life of Dublin, Ireland to the quiet little town of Hilton Head, South Carolina, two lives are pulled together by tragedy and something more—call it fate, call it faeries.
After giving up a daughter for adoption at sixteen, KATLYN REYNOLDS has built a successful advertising company to keep her mind busy and her heart safe. But this pain from her past has made Kate a use ’em and leave ’em kind of girl, bypassing love and commitment to protect herself. And this system has worked—
—until she meets DEACON O’MALLERY, a sweet, sexy, striving Irish businessman. Deacon is known as a jammy, a lucky bastard. As second in command at the largest intel company in Europe, he has the world by the balls, leaving the orphaned boy who grew up with nothing—and everyone else—behind. Then Katlyn Reynolds walks into his life and he’s smitten. Kate is his maité Sol, his soul mate; he just knows it; even his wanker can’t stop thinking about her. And, for the first time, after hearing Kate’s story of brutality and loss, he wants to find his birth mother, the woman who abandoned him.
Kate’s feelings for Deacon are confusing. She cares enough to reveal her past, but insists he find love somewhere else.
Now this stubborn bloke has two missions: to find his mother and to make the girl across the ocean stand by his side forever. Ádh mór ort, Kate! Good luck, he thinks. She’s going to need it to fight him off, for he has more than good looks, charm, tenacity, and money on his side. Deacon has Thomas and Calista: spirits he unwittingly beckons into his life.
In the second book in the Soul Mate series the cross-continental frolics continue with Kate and Deacon. Drama blends with desire and an off-the-charts plot, creating the heavyweight champion of page-turners in this sensual romance.
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As I passed through the crowd the owner waved and said, “See you soon, Kate.”
I smiled and waved, but kept walking. I was in no mood to talk or be happy.
As I turned my head back around, toward the door, a man in a hooded jacket ran into me, nearly knocking me off my feet.
I stumbled backwards, but he caught me before I fell, then kept walking. Asshole. The door chimed as I stepped out.
I hadn’t realized how warm it still was. Who wore a jacket in August? An asshole with a major problem.
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About the Author:
C.L. Hunter started writing poetry as a young girl. Her grandparents owned newspapers in Arkansas: the McCrory Leader and the Augusta Advocate. She’d send them those poems. In return they’d print them in the weekly newspaper and send the clippings back to her. That started her love for writing. She attended Arkansas State, studying business, but started a family early having three children. Hunter considers herself a Floridian, having lived in Saint Augustine since the age of seven. She loves the beach and hot, humid weather—the hotter the better. She is an avid gardener, loving every type of flower God created. You’ll find flowers in all her books. She also loves boating and anything that has to do with the water. When she’s not writing, she’s a design consultant for a custom homebuilder in Jacksonville, Florida. Hunter has written several short stories, but keeps them under lock and key. Her first novel, Your Soul Was Made for Mine, won Readers Favorite Silver Award and the Benjamin Franklin Digital Silver Honoree Award.