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Safe Haven (Special Edition New Adult Romance-- All Proceeds go to Brenda Novak's Online Auction for Diabetes Research)
Safe Haven (Special Edition New Adult Romance-- All Proceeds go to Brenda Novak's Online Auction for Diabetes Research)
Safe Haven (Special Edition New Adult Romance-- All Proceeds go to Brenda Novak's Online Auction for Diabetes Research)
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Safe Haven (Special Edition New Adult Romance-- All Proceeds go to Brenda Novak's Online Auction for Diabetes Research)

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A fresh start...

It's been three years since Serena King learned to say no--no to the boys that were a desperate cry for help, no to the extra weight she put on in self defense, and most of all no to the abuse that has haunted her since she was fifteen. Now a sophomore in college, all she wants is to be normal. The last thing she expects is a guy who can make her want, well, everything.

A new guy...

Alex Blackthorn is a bundle of contradictions, a sexy dark haired badass who goes slow... deliciously slow. And despite the iron will that has gotten her through the last few years, Serena finds herself unable to ignore the heat that sizzles between them whenever they're together.

A dark past...

Serena never thought she could be involved in a relationship, but Alex makes her long for things she thought were out of her reach forever. When he finds out her secret... when he finds out what she did to keep herself sane... will he still want her, or he will treat her just like everyone else?

And Alex has secrets of his own.

**This book was previously released as Love Me For Me by Lauren Hawkeye/ Kate Laurens. It has been rewritten and features new scenes.**

Don’t forget to check out SWEET TALK, SWEET DREAMS and SWEET SEDUCTION, three limited edition collections from Brenda Novak’s Online Auction for Diabetes Research, as well as LOVE THAT!, Brenda Novak's new cookbook with Jan Coad... read and help the fight against diabetes!

LanguageEnglish
PublisherBrenda
Release dateMay 1, 2015
ISBN9781928068297
Safe Haven (Special Edition New Adult Romance-- All Proceeds go to Brenda Novak's Online Auction for Diabetes Research)
Author

Lauren Hawkeye

Lauren Hawkeye is a writer, theatre enthusiast, knitting aficionado and animal lover who lives in the shadows of the great Rocky Mountains of Alberta, Canada. She’s older than she looks—really—and younger than she feels—most of the time—and she loves to explore the journeys that take women through life in her stories.

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    Safe Haven (Special Edition New Adult Romance-- All Proceeds go to Brenda Novak's Online Auction for Diabetes Research) - Lauren Hawkeye

    Praise for:  Love Me For Me

    I stayed up until 3 am to finish this book-—it’s that good! If you want something that will pull at your heartstrings and make you root for the main characters-—this is it! Love! Love! Love! Kate Laurens has a bright future in the New Adult genre! I’m eagerly awaiting her next book and can’t wait to see how far she will go!

    Rachel Van Dyken, #1 New York Times Bestselling Author of The Bet

    If I ever did a New Adult romance novel, Kate Laurens’ debut would be what I’d strive for!

    New York Times Bestselling Author Sara Fawkes

    Dear Reader,

    I wrote this book two years ago, only a few months after my son was diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. At the time, creating a handsome, popular, athletic hero was a way for me to work through some of the shock and stress that came with news of a massive health issue for my then two-year-old. Now? Well, now I understand that people with diabetes CAN lead a completely normal life... though admittedly, that normalcy comes with a price. There are certainly many things worse than diabetes, but when your little diabetic has such a low blood glucose level that you can’t even get him to swallow the sugar he needs, it does make a parent wish for a cure.

    That’s what the fabulous Brenda Novak has been tirelessly crusading towards for the last ten years—a cure. Her own son, Thad, is a Type 1 diabetic as well, and to date Brenda Novak’s Online Auction for Diabetes Research has raised 2.4 million—that’s right, MILLION—dollars for the cure. This year we’re determined to raise even more!

    This year our fundraising efforts are all aimed toward you, the reader—that’s right, you can make a difference while you read! Choose from the five different offerings, or collect them all, and know that all proceeds are going straight to the University of Miami’s Diabetes Research Institute!

    Thank you for taking the time to pick up Safe Haven, and I hope you like it! This book has been one of my bestsellers, and it’s been fun to go back and add some scenes from Alex’s point of view.

    In addition to this book, please check out these other titles available exclusively from May 1-June 31.

    Sweet Seduction—featuring 13 brand new erotic romance stories, plus a bonus book by NYT bestselling foreword author Lisa Renee Jones

    Sweet Talk—featuring 10 brand new contemporary romance stories, plus a bonus book by Brenda Novak and a foreword from #1 NYT bestselling author Robyn Carr

    Sweet Dreams—featuring 13 brand new thrillers, plus a foreword from #1 NYT bestselling author Lee Child

    Love That! Brenda Novak’s Every Occasion Cookbook with Jan Coad

    And now... happy reading! I’d love to hear what you think... you can contact me through my website, www.laurenhawkeye.com or on Twitter @LaurenHJameson

    Best,

    Lauren.JPG

    Lauren Hawkeye

    Chapter One

    SERENA

    He wasn’t supposed to notice me.

    But as the two of us hovered awkwardly in the hallway, outside of the closed door to our American Lit class, he looked me right in the eye. His left hand rumpled the raven-dark spikes of hair on his head as he grinned at me sheepishly.

    He caught me at a rare off guard moment and slowly, tentatively, I smiled back.

    Tardiness will not be tolerated.

    His mimicry of the words our professor, the man with elbow patches on his sweater, had spoken the first day of class startled a laugh from me. The boy seemed to like that, and as he shifted weight from one foot to the other I studied him, daring to look more closely than I ever had before.

    I’d noticed him. How could I not have? He was one of the stars of the campus football team, a promising wide receiver with NFL potential. But I’d always forced myself to look away. Boys like him weren’t for girls like me.

    He was tall, nearly a full foot taller than me. Eyes the color of the sky at night peered out from beneath a long, thick fringe of black eyelashes. They were lashes that any girl would kill for and he, being a boy, likely didn’t appreciate. His face was a study in sharp angles and planes, his lips full and soft in contrast. Black ink, indelibly etched into his skin, peeked out the neck of his black T-shirt, and I could see it on his biceps, too, when he moved.

    The tattoos were at odds with the clean cut image he otherwise emanated. He was too damn good looking, the kind of guy that in high school had been happy to spend time with me in dark closets, under the bleachers, or in the backseat of a car, but who would scorn me in public, ashamed to be associated with that girl.

    Except he didn’t seem ashamed, even though I was dressed in my usual uniform of faded blue jeans and a plaid flannel shirt open over a tank top. My long blonde hair was in a loose braid, with pieces left down deliberately, so I could hide behind them if I needed to.

    I frequently did. I would shake the ribbons of pale hair over my eyes, eyes that were blue but were so pale in comparison to his that they scarcely seemed the same color.

    Those eyes widened when he grinned casually, hiking his backpack up further on his back.

    Well, no way he’ll let us in now, he said. This professor liked to verbally humiliate anyone who tried to sneak in once the door had been closed, and he had a sharp, acerbic tongue that I was in no rush to receive a lashing with.

    Right. I tried to smile, tried to act like a normal girl, but found myself shaking those long strands of hair over my face instead. I dropped my gaze away from the boy in front of me, all the way down to the tips of my black sneakers.

    It felt... almost... like he was flirting with me.

    I knew better.

    I’d better get to the library. I need to do the extra reading to make up for missing this class. I hated being late, but the Psych class I had right before American Lit was all the way across campus.

    I was not happy to miss a class either, but this professor left me no choice.

    The thought of falling behind made me sick, though I knew, rationally, that I was getting ahead of myself. The fear of falling behind, of losing my scholarship, of having to return home was acid, eating away at my gut.

    Bye, I muttered, as I walked away. I cursed myself as I did—why couldn’t I be a normal girl, why couldn’t I just have a conversation with a member of the opposite sex?

    I heard his steps, heavy on the floor behind me, as he followed me. I cringed at the gentle tug on my backpack, though I’d swallowed the knee jerk reaction to lash out.

    I managed to shore up my courage, shake my hair out of my face, and look up at him.

    Why don’t we go study together? he asked. There it was again—that certainty that he was flirting with me, though I couldn’t understand why.

    Maybe he knew someone I’d gone to high school with. Even though I’d moved two states away, maybe he’d heard about the way I used to be.

    But there was no innuendo in his tone, nothing overtly sexual in the way he studied my face.

    I don’t know what came over me, but after a long moment I felt a shy smile tug at the corners of my lips.

    Okay.

    tribal.jpg

    SERENA

    Daily Grind was the coffee shop located in the middle of campus. It was small and dark, with tables that seemed sticky no matter how many times they were wiped clean. The bitter scent of brewing coffee permeated the air, not quite overpowering the lingering hint of cigarette smoke left over from previous decades of students, when smoking indoors had been permitted.

    He led me to a table in the middle of the cafe, which surprised me. I’d thought he would take me to the back corner, where there would be less chance of being seen with me.

    I really needed to get these thoughts out of my head. I wasn’t that girl anymore.

    What would you like? he asked. I hefted my backpack into one of the empty chairs, and pulled my wallet out of the front pocket. I startled when he placed his large hand on top of mine, gently pushing my wallet away.

    No way. I’m buying, he spoke firmly. Startled, I blinked. My mind, being what it was, immediately wondered what he would expect in return. I bit the inside of my cheek, resisted the urge to shake my hair over my face, and tried to smile up at those assessing blue eyes.

    Um. Dark roast, please. Just skim milk. I looked down at my fingers while he got our drinks.

    Returning, he handed me the cup and our fingers brushed. I jolted at the heat that sizzled out from the small touch. His eyes were on me as I jumped, but he said nothing, did nothing and I was sure that I had imagined it.

    He waited for me to sit before he did—something I couldn’t help but notice, though I might have been reading too much into it. He sipped at his drink, and then offered it to me.

    What is it? I didn’t really care—I was more focused on the fact that he was offering to share a cup with me, a stranger.

    It’s a triple latte with caramel and vanilla.

    I had been tempted to try it, just for the unexpected intimacy, but I recoiled at the words.

    No, thank you. I can’t. I picked up my own cup, swigged. The skim milk wasn’t enough to cover the acidic taste of the coffee, but I had become used to it.

    Too much caffeine?

    I couldn’t help my smile—I could drink a pot of coffee in a day, easily. No. It’s all the sugar you added. I waved my cup at him, then sipped again. For some reason, rather than unnerving me, the fact that all of his attention was focused on me made my muscles relax, just the slightest bit. If I drink that, I’ll have to run for an extra hour.

    It’s sugar free, if it helps. He raised an eyebrow at me, a smile ghosting around the corners of his lips, and I felt my pulse stutter. It should have been illegal for any single guy to be that sexy.

    I thought it was a bit strange that someone with a body like his would bother to order something without sugar—maybe he was a health nut. Still, I shook my head.

    Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who’s obsessed with her weight. His eyes raked over me, slow and assessing, but not lecherous. Rather than the shame I’d felt in the past when other boys looked at me, I instead felt my skin prickle to awareness.

    Not weight, not really. My mouth was dry, and I drank to wet my lips. Just... health. I... once I was really heavy. I don’t ever want to be like that again.

    I couldn’t stop the surge of defiance in my voice. I’d been heavy in self-defense. Once I’d been able to guard myself in other ways, I’d worked hard to regain the figure that I nonetheless refused to play off.

    I wouldn’t let my past make me unhealthy. But that didn’t mean I was interested in attracting the opposite sex.

    As he smiled slowly at me, I wondered if that wasn’t rapidly becoming a lie. And I couldn’t believe that I’d just told him that. I didn’t talk about my past. I didn’t even like to remember it myself.

    Do you like to work out? His eyes only left my face for a moment, long enough to open the zipper of his backpack and to extract a copy of Henry James’ The Portrait of a Lady, the story we were studying in class.

    Studying. Right. That’s why we were here—to catch up because we’d both missed class. Nothing more.

    Pinching my lips tightly together, I pulled my own copy from my bag, along with the binder that held the notes I’d made on it so far. As I was bent over, I saw two sets of feet, both clad in those stylish, high heeled boots that only popular girls can pull off, mincing by.

    When I sat up, I saw that they were eyeing him with undisguised interest. I didn’t look at him to gauge his reaction—of course he would look back. And while normally I would try not to care, somehow, with this guy, I did.

    When I straightened back up, his eyes were on me. Startled, I looked down at my lap, then answered his question.

    It depends. I run because I have to, to stay in shape. I hate it. I wasn’t pretty when I ran—I was a sweaty, panting mess. I also teach yoga here on campus. I like that.

    I wasn’t prepared for the interest on his face when I finally slid my book and binder onto the table and looked at him.

    Yoga. That helps with strength and flexibility, right?

    I nodded, suddenly wary, waiting for the comment that I was sure was going to come. Something degrading disguised as a flirtation, something about flexible yoga instructors that turned into a demand for sex.

    The comment didn’t come. Though the way he looked at me told me he was interested, attracted, but he didn’t take it any further than that.

    Why would he be interested in me? If only he knew just how damaged I was.

    I play football. He nodded, commenting no further. I thought it was interesting that he didn’t just expect me to know that, to know who he was. It just made him that much more attractive.

    I tried not to notice the way his lips looked as he chugged the last of his coffee, then scrunched up the cup in large hands. Cracking open his book, he looked over at me expectantly.

    We’d better get to it.

    tribal.jpg

    ALEX

    I watched her walk away, and it took almost everything I had not to chase after her.

    I still couldn’t believe my luck, that she’d been trapped outside class at the same time that I was.

    Serena King. I’d noticed her the first day of classes. How could I not have? It wasn’t so much that she was pretty, though with her long gold hair and big blue eyes, she was certainly that. No, I’d been drawn to her because she’d just seemed different from the girls I usually ran with.

    She dressed plainly, like she was trying to hide—no boobs hanging out of her shirts. And hey, I like boobs as much as the next guy, but I could also appreciate something being left to the imagination.

    The more she tried to blend in, the more I noticed her. If other girls were open books, she was a rare first-edition, full of secrets waiting to be uncovered. Maybe that was why I felt so drawn to her. Or maybe I really wasn’t imagining that instant click between us, that connection I’d felt spark to life the first time our eyes had met across the lecture theatre.

    Most girls, I’d just go ahead and approach them. Ask them to dinner, which was usually code for a meal, followed by sex.

    This girl? I was pretty sure that if I got anywhere near her, she’d scurry away. Maybe even evaporate.

    But since that first class, I hadn’t been able to get her out of my mind. Hadn’t wanted anyone else. The other guys on the team had noticed that I was spending a lot of nights alone—a lot of nights with my own hand, to hear them tell it. To get them off my back, I made out with a couple of different girls at parties, but my heart—and my cock—just weren’t in it.

    So fate aligning Serena King and I? Yeah. I was pretty fucking stoked.

    Watching that sexy ass of hers as she hurried out of the coffee shop had me squirming in my seat.

    Down, boy. I wanted her the way I’d wanted other girls—namely, beneath me as I moved inside of them. But I also wanted more. That’s why, even though I was dying to get my hands on her, I knew I had to take it slow.

    We’d officially met now. I had a reason to approach her again, to say hi.

    It was hard to treat her differently than the ball bunnies that followed the guys and I around, but the fact was that she was different.

    It might kill me to wait for her, but wait I would. Because different was exactly why I liked her.

    tribal.jpg

    SERENA

    It wasn’t until after I’d left Daily Grind that I realized I didn’t know his name. I racked my memory, and was certain that he hadn’t asked for mine, either.

    The realization put me into a funk. Clearly he didn’t care. I’d just been a diversion, someone to

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