Title: All The Broken Places (The Healing Edge #1)
Author: Anise Eden
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release Date: February 16, 2016
Author: Anise Eden
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release Date: February 16, 2016
Synopsis
All of Cate’s problems are in her head. That may be her greatest strength. Cate Duncan is a promising young therapist, dedicated to her work. But after her mother’s suicide, she is seized by a paralyzing depression. To save her job, Cate agrees to enter a program with Dr. Angeline MacGregor, run by her stern son, Ben, and housed in a repurposed church. Cate doesn’t quite understand what the program entails, but she soon learns that the skills she will develop there may not only help her learn how to cope with her own problems, but will also lead her to a much greater purpose. The MacGregor Group is a collection of alternative healers whose unconventional approaches include crystals, aura reading and psychics. They know that their life’s work invites skepticism, and welcome the chance to prove naysayers wrong. But they need the unique abilities that Cate can bring, and as she slides ever closer to her own abyss, they will do everything in their power to protect Cate from those who wish her harm―including herself. A powerful novel of suspense and a wildly inventive start to this paranormal romance series, ALL THE BROKEN PLACES engages readers with its striking blend of the supernatural and the psychological.
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Excerpt
As we worked our way from front to back, the two-seater revealed itself to be a masterpiece of restoration. The sweeping curves, the gleaming wire wheels…simply stunning. When we finished, Ben put the folded canvas in the back of the Land Rover. “I normally keep the Jag in the garage at home when it rains,” he explained, “but that storm the other day caught me by surprise.” I didn’t even try to hide my admiration. Ben beamed. “Would you like to sit inside?” I must not have heard him correctly. “What?” “Sit. In the car.” He pointed at the right-hand seat where the steering wheel was located, British-style. “Driver’s side, of course.” “Really?” As many car shows as I’d been to, no one had ever offered to let me get inside. “Really.” He walked around and opened the door for me. “Go ahead.” “Okay.” Tentatively, I slid onto the seat. Ben shut the door behind me, then walked around and got into the passenger seat. All at once, I recognized the combination of scents that I’d noticed the first time I’d met Ben: old leather, cotton, and wool. Now the leather part made sense. Ben seemed to be enjoying my reactions. I let myself relax a little. My hand hovered tentatively over the steering wheel. “May I…?” “Of course.” I rested one hand on the wheel and ran the other along the side of my seat, which was tan and as soft as butter. I practically moaned, “My god, this leather…” “Yeah, that took some work.” “What do you mean?” Ben stroked the dashboard. “When I found this car, she was on blocks in a barn outside of Lancaster, covered with nothing but a tarp and a bunch of hay bales.” He shook his head. “The body was in bad shape, but the chrome was savable.” My eyes widened. “You mean you restored it?” He nodded. “Not by myself, of course. I put the word out online that I needed parts, and about fifty Marines sourced them for me from around the globe.” He pointed to the speedometer. “That’s from Melbourne. The wheels came from four different countries.” As Ben continued giving me the inventory of various car parts and their origins, his whole demeanor changed. His expression brightened and he relaxed, managerial stiffness giving way to boyish enthusiasm. I felt my own spirits lifting as I got caught up in his animated description of the invisible web of people who had worked to save the neglected Jaguar. As he spoke, Ben rested his hand next to mine on the steering wheel, close enough that I could feel the heat of his skin. I inhaled deeply as the whispering warmth of attraction was once again ignited, tickling my hand and flowing up my arm….I cursed inwardly. So it hadn’t been a tai chi anomaly after all. It’s okay, I reassured myself, you can handle this. Just back away slowly. I slid my hand off of the steering wheel and sank back into my seat.
As we worked our way from front to back, the two-seater revealed itself to be a masterpiece of restoration. The sweeping curves, the gleaming wire wheels…simply stunning. When we finished, Ben put the folded canvas in the back of the Land Rover. “I normally keep the Jag in the garage at home when it rains,” he explained, “but that storm the other day caught me by surprise.” I didn’t even try to hide my admiration. Ben beamed. “Would you like to sit inside?” I must not have heard him correctly. “What?” “Sit. In the car.” He pointed at the right-hand seat where the steering wheel was located, British-style. “Driver’s side, of course.” “Really?” As many car shows as I’d been to, no one had ever offered to let me get inside. “Really.” He walked around and opened the door for me. “Go ahead.” “Okay.” Tentatively, I slid onto the seat. Ben shut the door behind me, then walked around and got into the passenger seat. All at once, I recognized the combination of scents that I’d noticed the first time I’d met Ben: old leather, cotton, and wool. Now the leather part made sense. Ben seemed to be enjoying my reactions. I let myself relax a little. My hand hovered tentatively over the steering wheel. “May I…?” “Of course.” I rested one hand on the wheel and ran the other along the side of my seat, which was tan and as soft as butter. I practically moaned, “My god, this leather…” “Yeah, that took some work.” “What do you mean?” Ben stroked the dashboard. “When I found this car, she was on blocks in a barn outside of Lancaster, covered with nothing but a tarp and a bunch of hay bales.” He shook his head. “The body was in bad shape, but the chrome was savable.” My eyes widened. “You mean you restored it?” He nodded. “Not by myself, of course. I put the word out online that I needed parts, and about fifty Marines sourced them for me from around the globe.” He pointed to the speedometer. “That’s from Melbourne. The wheels came from four different countries.” As Ben continued giving me the inventory of various car parts and their origins, his whole demeanor changed. His expression brightened and he relaxed, managerial stiffness giving way to boyish enthusiasm. I felt my own spirits lifting as I got caught up in his animated description of the invisible web of people who had worked to save the neglected Jaguar. As he spoke, Ben rested his hand next to mine on the steering wheel, close enough that I could feel the heat of his skin. I inhaled deeply as the whispering warmth of attraction was once again ignited, tickling my hand and flowing up my arm….I cursed inwardly. So it hadn’t been a tai chi anomaly after all. It’s okay, I reassured myself, you can handle this. Just back away slowly. I slid my hand off of the steering wheel and sank back into my seat.
About the Author:
Author and plant lover Anise Eden spends most of her time tucked away in her writing nook imagining things that aren’t there. On those rare occasions when she emerges from seclusion, Anise may be spotted in coffee shops, staring at her laptop screen and silently moving her lips as she reviews bits of dialogue. Although Anise claims that she’s the one in charge, the characters in her head do sometimes make her laugh out loud at inappropriate moments.
Author and plant lover Anise Eden spends most of her time tucked away in her writing nook imagining things that aren’t there. On those rare occasions when she emerges from seclusion, Anise may be spotted in coffee shops, staring at her laptop screen and silently moving her lips as she reviews bits of dialogue. Although Anise claims that she’s the one in charge, the characters in her head do sometimes make her laugh out loud at inappropriate moments.
Thanks so much for the spotlight, Anna's Book Blog, and for participating in the book tour for ALL THE BROKEN PLACES! :)
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