Roses and Blood: The Roses and Blood Series

By Amanda K. Dudley-Penn

Moira O'Dear thought that she was moving on with her life after the only man she ever loved, broke her heart. But when the new man in her life turns dark and she escapes only to have her life changed forever, she has to turn to Devon Powers, the man who broke her heart to help her but when old passions rise to the surface, her old life steps in to destroy it all. Now, she must face the man who tried to kill her or risk losing more than her life.

Warning: This book does contain instances of abuse by a partner and will also deal with the pain afterwards. 

Roses and Blood is the first book in a series but can be read as a stand alone.  There is a HEA with no cheating.   

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amanda K. Dudley-Penn
• Release date: Jul 28, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386212102

Amanda K. Dudley-Penn

Amanda K. Dudley-Penn was born in June of 1977 in Tullahoma, Tennessee.  She has loved writing from a young age and has always dreamed of being a published author.  That dream came true in June of 2012 when she published her first book The Hidden.  Since then, she has become the author of fourteen books in five different series.  Her writings also span multiple genres.  She currently lives in Grand Prairie, Texas with her husband, David and her two youngest children, Isabella and Joshua.  

Book preview

Acknowledgements

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

I WOULD LIKE TO THANK my husband, David and my children, Joshua, Isabella and Constance.  I love you all so much.  I would also like to thank my mom, Kaye, who stands by me no matter what and my step-father, Paul, who is the best step-daddy a girl can ask for.  I would also like to thank my siblings (Some are siblings of the soul) Kara, James, Josh, Michael, Amber, Chastity, Crystal, Mandiey, Lou Erin, Connie, Sandra, Hopi, Robert and Bert and their significant others, Jonathon, Rox, Corie, Mike and Robbie.  Thank you for standing by me.  It means the world to me.  Thank you to my uncles, Terry and Jason and my aunts, Peggy, Amy and Leigh.  Also, I would like to thank my cousins, Christopher, Becky, Lacey, Jesse, Dawn, Catareena, Valerie and Buffy.  I am so lucky to have all of you in my life.  These books wouldn’t be as beautiful if it weren’t for my editor, Kim Young and her awesome red pen.  Thank you.  Also, I would like to give a huge shout-out and thank you to my P.A. Shanna Blanton.  You are a doll and a life saver.  I adore you.  Thank you so much.  I would also like to thank the awesome author community and last but not least, I would love to thank each and every reader for giving my books a chance.  I would not be living my dream if it weren’t for you. 

Dedication

I WOULD LIKE TO DEDICATE this book to the woman who sticks by every day and encourages me.  She is a sister to my soul.  I love you, Nicole. 

Prologue

WHEN I REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS, I wondered if I had died. The only thing that proved I didn’t was the pain. Every muscle screamed in protest with the slightest movement. The stiff sheets beneath me rubbed against my bruised, battered skin, catching in places and causing it to become raw enough to bleed. I tried forcing my eyelids open, but a searing pain shot through my skull and I cried out, burning tears trickling down my face, leaving heated, itchy trails in their wake. 

When exhaustion swamped me, I didn’t fight the darkness. Instead, I allowed it to wash over my body, plunging me into the cool, inviting shadows where nothing hurt.

I didn’t know how long I was asleep, but when I woke again, the physical pain had faded to a dull throb, fractured images of the night before pummeling through me like the fists that had slammed into every part of my body. Eyes still closed, my thoughts drifted to the man, the one who claimed he loved me, hurting me over and over again.

I knew I had to face reality. He had tried to kill me. There was no denying that. And it wasn’t the first time, either. Images of the other times he caused me pain and I forgave him came to my mind.  

The first time, we had gone to a party at a friend’s house and another man spoke to me. He punched the guy in the jaw, then roughly pulled me out of the house by the arm. Embarrassment flooded me, so I started yelling at him. By the time we arrived home, the argument had escalated, ending when he wrapped his hands around my neck and squeezed so hard, black dots danced in front of my eyes. As I struggled against his hold, something in his face changed. His eyes had widened and he stepped back, his face turning from red to white as he stared down at his hands, as if wondering how he had stooped so low. 

The next day, he apologized, caressing my face and tending to the bruised skin on my neck. He seemed genuinely sorry. Tears fell down his cheeks when he handed me flowers and told me it only happened because he drank too much at the party. He promised never to drink again. I thought it had been a fluke...a one-time thing. I was so naïve.

The next time was less than two weeks later. I had to work late and didn’t call. When I got home, he accused me of cheating on him, listing all the male managers and employees at my job. He pushed me and I tumbled down a flight of stairs, fracturing my wrist. Again, with more tears and flowers, he apologized. He said he didn’t realize his strength. I forgave him, but out of fear. 

The third time ended with me lying in the hospital, struggling to move...to open my eyes...to breathe.

After he broke my wrist, fear invaded me, making me jump every time he lifted his hand or stepped near me. Realizing I could not live like this anymore, I called my brother, Ethan, who begged me to leave. He knew each time Brent had hurt me. He saw the bruises around my neck, not to mention the brace on my wrist. As usual, lying to him didn’t work, so I gave in, knowing he was right.

When Brent left for work, I packed my things. Ethan was going to pick me up. Unfortunately, Brent must have suspected something because he came home, catching me in the act of packing. I remember how eerily calm he was as he walked into the room. His blue eyes darted from me to the suitcase on the bed. He walked toward it and picked up one of the shirts within as his face darkened. I stood there, frozen. I should have run, should have anticipated the first hit, but I didn’t. One moment, he stared at my suitcase, as if heartbroken, and the next, he backhanded me across the cheek so hard, I fell back against the wall, cracking the plaster. He strode up to me and started swinging.

Then it hit me. He wasn’t going to stop until he killed me. The look on his face, which was twisted in rage, would forever be etched in my memory.

As I finally lost consciousness, my last thought was of Ethan. If he showed up when Brent was home, he’d certainly kill him.   

Moira...

Ethan’s worried voice surrounded me, breaking through the images that plagued my mind. I felt relief. He was all right. My heart broke as he gripped my hand, clinging to it, almost as if he were trying to heal me with the act.

His voice cracked as he pleaded, Please, be okay. 

I tried to open my eyes, but the pain was so intense, I almost lost consciousness again. Only a voice from my past caused the darkness to retreat.

Let me in. His voice rumbled through the room.  I frowned slightly, wincing as pain lanced down my face. 

Mr. O’Dear, this man says he’s family, a nurse said, obviously trying to stop someone from entering the room. If my body would have allowed it, I would’ve smirked. If she knew anything about him, she would have realized no one could stop him. He was too stubborn.

He is, Ethan said. The nurse’s grunt of acceptance echoed through the room.

The click of his shoes on the linoleum floor drifted to me as he stepped closer to my bed, the musky aroma of his cologne chasing away the scent of rubbing alcohol that seemed to coat the room. My heart beat a little faster as he neared. It always did. 

Though Ethan claimed the man as family, he wasn’t blood, though he had known us long enough. He was our childhood playmate and Ethan’s best friend. He had also been my constant protector when we were young. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, him being here made sense.

He took a sharp intake of breath, the sound hanging within the room. My god, you can’t even recognize her, the man whispered.

I imagined the horrified expression on his handsome face. I could almost feel his blue eyes rake over me as anger replaced the horror. 

Who did this, Ethan? he growled, the sound almost vibrating in the small room before echoing off the walls. 

Who do you think, Devon? my brother asked, a sob breaking from his throat.

Brent? he asked from between clenched teeth. What was she thinking, staying with him after he choked her?

My eyebrows furrowed, making my face ache even more. I started dating Brent after I decided it was time to get over Devon’s rejection. I was in high school when he had kissed me, giving me hope that my love would be returned. The next day, he left for college, leaving me a letter explaining that he had made a mistake. I remained brokenhearted through the rest of high school and most of college, and even though I didn’t speak of Devon Powers, he was constantly in my mind. Finally, I convinced myself that it was time to get over him. 

I did that with Brent...or tried to. Over the last few days, though, I realized I was just trying to replace Devon. The two men resembled each other—the same blond hair, muscled frame, dark blue eyes, bronze skin. It had ended at looks, though. Brent held none of the kindness or chivalry Devon possessed.

My brother, the only one who knew my feelings for Devon, ignored his statement and gripped my hand tighter. Unfortunately, they can’t find him. I just know he will come for her again, Ethan softly said, his hand trembling. She’ll have to come home with me. I can’t leave her alone.

Ethan, you’re sick. I winced inwardly when another pain shot through me as I thought of Ethan, now bald from chemotherapy. If he attacks her, you won’t be able to fight him off. Even if you tried, he’d kill you. 

It doesn’t matter, he whispered in a broken and fatigued voice. She’s my sister. I’d die to protect her. 

There was a pause before Ethan spoke again. His voice was steady, but still held a note of pleading within it. But if something happens, promise you’ll take her in. Promise me you’ll keep her safe. He took a deep breath before continuing. Promise me she will live.

Darkness had started to pull me down again, causing the light that touched my eyelids to turn from red to black. I struggled to stay awake so I could hear Devon’s response. Finally, his