Title: ROAD RAGE
Author: Jessi Gage
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Lyrical Press
Publication Date: June 2013
Jessi Gage is back with the hot, sexy cover of her upcoming paranormal romance, ROAD RAGE. Check it out!
He has anger issues and she has amnesia, but together they have amazing chemistry.
Lashing out in anger, construction worker Derek causes an accident on the freeway. His truck escapes unscathed, but he can’t say the same for his conscience. Plagued by nightmares of the wreck, his only comfort comes in the form of nightly visits by a mysterious woman who interrupts his dreams with sensual caresses and words of solace.
Cami has no idea who she is, until she wakes in a hospital bed and learns she’s been comatose due to a car wreck. Her visits with Derek must have been a dream, so why can’t she shake the feeling he was a real man who truly needed her help?
When Derek learns his mystery woman is none other than the driver of the car he cut off and she is fighting for her life, he must decide: Is he man enough to face her and ask forgiveness, or will he run away and avoid the consequences of his anger, yet again?
CONTENT WARNING: Sex with a perfect, imaginary dream girl who really isn’t imaginary
A Lyrical Press Paranormal Romance
Sleepy footsteps shuffled past his cracked-open door. Haley, headed to the bathroom. He should get up too. He usually looked forward to firing up the griddle for Sunday morning pancakes, but a rollercoaster night of strange dreams and unspent arousal had him wishing he could sleep in.
He’d had the nightmare where he was driving the Honda again, but he’d also had another. The second dream had dumped him in a car wreck too, and even though he’d witnessed the accident with the Honda in real life, the one on the rain-slicked roadside had felt much more personal.
Even now, hours after the dream, the weight of the girl’s loss pinned him to the mattress. He refused to accept the added weight of her guilt, however. It hovered in his psyche, right there, ready to upset him if he chose to let it. But he ignored it. The girl might have been driving, and the accident might have even been her fault–he didn’t know since he’d shown up after the wreck–but no way did she cause her father’s death. It didn’t matter she was a figment of his sleeping subconscious; knowing she believed that made him cringe.
Blowing out the useless emotional shit on a breath, he heaved himself out of bed. He found Haley kneeling on a kitchen chair, using his laptop. “Whatcha doing, kiddo?” He ruffled her hair with manufactured cheer.
“Looking up ghosts.”
He blinked a few times. Of all the things he’d been expecting her to say, checking email, looking at Facebook, playing games… “Ghosts? Why?”
“’Cuz I think you have one.”
“Haley, hon, there’s no such thing as ghosts.” He wanted to talk about Little League, about school, about Girl Scouts, frigging boys, anything but ghosts. What the hell was Deidre letting her get into that she came up with crap like that?
“Uh, yeah there is, Dad. You know how I know?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “’Cuz I saw one. She woke you up Friday night. And then last night, I thought I heard you crying again, so I went in your room to check on you. She was sitting on your bed touching your hair like Mom does when I don’t feel good.”
His heart stopped while he processed what she’d said. He hadn’t realized Haley had looked in on him last night. A flush crept up his neck as he remembered the erection he’d had before dawn. He hoped to God she hadn’t come in then. Thankfully, her words reminded him of the gentle caresses that had taken the edge off the car-wreck dreams, which had happened earlier. But that comfort had been in his dreams. How had Haley seen?
“She had pretty red hair,” she said, oblivious to his confusion. “But not red like Rebecca’s. It was darker. And she looked worried about you. Don’t you know who she is? Was it someone who died a long time ago?” She tapped the computer screen. “It says here sometimes deceased loved ones from your past hang around and look out for you, like watch over you. I think she was watching over you. I like her. She seems nice.”
Dark red hair, as in rich auburn waves. His legs felt weak. He gripped the back of a chair as he moved around the table. Crouching, he wiggled the griddle from amidst the pots and pans in the cupboard.
“There’s no such thing as ghosts, honey.” He clunked the griddle onto the counter and flipped the laptop closed. “It’s pancake time.”
Jessi lives with her husband and children in the Seattle area. In addition to writing paranormal romance, she’s a wife, a mom, an audiologist, a church-goer, a Ford driver, a PC user, and a coffee snob. Her guiding tenet in her writing is that good triumphs over evil, but not before evil gives good one heck of a run for its money. The last time she imagined a world without romance novels, her husband found her crouched in the corner, rocking.