Title: BORROWED TIME
Genre: YA magical realism
Word Count: 87,000
For seventeen-year-old Reese Jensen, stumbling across a dead guy in the woods is by no means a normal way to start a weekend. When that same guy later shows up on her doorstep—alive and well—asking for help, normal pretty much ceases to exist.
To a girl who loves solving puzzles, Dash is a mystery too good to pass up. Sexy and sweet, he’s also sporting a black hole where his memory should be, a wad of cash thicker than her wrist and a disturbing set of scars. Helping him figure out how to regain his memory is Reese’s way of appeasing her curiosity while clearing her name in the wake of a misunderstanding with police. Falling for him was never part of the plan.
At times, Dash seems reluctant to delve too deep into his cryptic past and Reese can’t understand why. Until, she discovers information that connects him to the victim of a violent crime. As dark secrets bubble to the surface at an alarming rate, she realizes he may not be the guy she thought he was. With her head and her heart at war, the trick for Reese is figuring out which guy is the real Dash: the one who swore to protect her at all costs, or the one capable of destroying her life without a second thought.
Thank God there was no one on the jogging trail to see my ever so graceful face-plant onto the dirt. The last thing I needed to wrap-up senior year was to become known as Reese Jensen, the girl taken down by a school supply.
Apparently it’s considered cheating by the running gods to cut across the Camden High baseball fields rather than tackle the hill at the start of the trail. If I’d simply followed their rules, I wouldn’t have tripped over the backpack sitting at the exact spot I tried reconnecting with the dirt path. Then again, if I’d ever listened when my dad warned me about changing the playlist on my iPod while I was running, I’d have seen the obstacle before it up-ended me.
It was too late to change those things now. The same way it was too late to regret starting my weekend off with a jog because I suffered from a huge case of post-munchies remorse. Last night, downing a half-pound bag of Peanut M&Ms hadn’t seemed like such a bad idea.
The sprawling crash took the wind right out of me, and in the process of refilling my lungs, I was lucky enough to inhale a mouthful of decayed leaf remains. Spitting them out, I rolled over onto my back and stared up at the tree branches that interlocked like gnarly wooden arms above the trail. Not the most comfortable of places to take a siesta, but I needed a minute here.