Ash

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Authors: Julieanne Lynch

BOOK: Ash
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Ash

 

ISBN-13: 978-1535045612

ISBN-10: 1535045612

 

© Julieanne Lynch 2016

 

Cover by Irish Ink © Copyright (September 2016)

Model: Marshall Perrin

Photography by Wander Pedro Aguiar

Edited by S. H. Books Editing Services

Formatted by Irish Ink

Julieanne Lynch, LLC

 

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

 

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning, or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Julieanne Lynch.

 

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Julieanne Lynch. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

 

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

 

Published in 2016 by Julieanne Lynch

 

Warning:

This book contains sexually explicit content, which is only suitable for mature readers.

 

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Epilogue

Other Books by Julieanne Lynch

About the Author

 

 

Torn between love and duty.
One man must fight for what is his.
 
Ash Benton had it all.
A loving wife.
A flourishing career.
A little boy who adores him.
All that comes crashing down when his past catches up with him.
Love and grief bring out the worst in people. In Ash’s case, the long winding path to self-destruction.
With nothing but his son on his mind, two very different women try to pull him in opposite directions. Ash struggles with honoring his wife’s dying words, and is haunted by the errors of his ways.
Can he overcome his internal battle?
Will he finally allow love to mend his broken heart?

 

 
For Brandy.
Without you, this novel would never have made it past round one.

 

 

To YOU, my amazing reader, thank you for loving me every step of the way. And if you’re new, welcome aboard. It’ll be a bumpy ride.

Huge love and thanks to the elite: My amazing agent,
Italia Gandolfo
—thanks for your belief and love for all that I do. I could not have asked for a better champion. My publicist,
Rick Miles
, and his team at Red Coat PR—I love you guys! My friend and confident,
LK Griffie
, it takes someone special to truly know me, thank you for always talking me off the edge.
Michelle McLoughney
, Holy Christ girl, I love you! I’ve had no better love and support. Thank you for being YOU! My beautiful husband,
Sean
, there are no other words other than I LOVE YOU! My wonderful, slightly insane children—you push me to strive to be a better me. I wouldn’t be the woman I am today if it weren’t for the five of you. My parents and sister’s—it must be nuts having me in your lives, but so much nicer, right? My amazing editor,
Nancy Medina
, you and I have a good thing, and for that, I thank God every day.

 

And now, some love to those involved in this project from day one. The incredible team behind the scenes:

 

Leigh Stone
, who has been nothing short of amazing. Owner and founder of Irish Ink, she’s been a blessing to work with and I love the pants off her.
Andrey Bahia
, who was just so lovely to me from the get-go. He understood my passion and was a pleasure to work with. Thank you.
Wander Aguiar
, photographer extraordinaire. What can I say? You captured the perfect reflection of Ash and I will be eternally grateful for your talent and vision. Thank you.
Marshall Perrin
, for being my muse and the perfect representation of Ash. The world is going to fall in love with you. Thank you.
Brandy
, you were a fan, who became a friend, and now a close confident. I bow my head to you. You put your life on the line every time you step inside that plane, and I swear to god, you are amazing.
Jenny Flores
, PA to Wander. You got first dibs on this baby, and I was so nervous, but you assured me everything would be fine. Thank you, kiddo.
Michelle Simm
, how could I ever thank you for being my Twatwaffler. I swear to God, the world needs more people like you in it. I love you.
Kirsty Turner
, new reader, new fan, new friend, and a bloody brilliant chick. Thank you for falling in love with my Ash. I think he’s a keeper. And thank you for your honesty.

 

God Bless xo

 

 

 

“The human heart has hidden treasures, In secret kept, in silence sealed; The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures, Whose charms were broken if revealed.” ~ Charlotte Bronte

 

 

 

The fire burned around us, not giving us a moment to catch our breaths. Heat penetrated through the visor. Sweat dripped down my forehead, and I blinked a few times, following Joe as he pushed a mattress from the doorway. We had already bust down doors and checked for any remaining trapped tenants.

Whole floors crumbled fast. It was a disaster zone.

Thick black smoke surrounded us. The temperature became so intense, it threatened to overwhelm our protective clothing. We could see no more than a few feet in front of us when we heard the muffled cries of a small child.

“We need to get through there,” Joe shouted, pointing at the door.

I nodded and helped move debris and furniture aside. Flames billowed around us. The possibility of finding the child grew slim. The longer it took us to locate her, the less chance she’d survive. No fire was ever predictable. Regardless of my own thoughts, we had a job to do. I wasn’t about to backtrack on everything I stood for.

Crawling through the dense smoke, my captain led the way into a small annex at the back of the seventh floor apartment. The cries got louder.

“She’s in here,” I muttered.

Through ragged breaths, I continued moving slowly and with caution, not once breaking momentum. Not until I saw the small eyes of the child. Her tear-stained cheeks were blackened from the smoke. I reached out for her.

“Mama . . . Mama,” she mumbled, struggling to stay awake.

In desperation, I took her into my arms, shielding her small body from the flames. I made my way back through the building, never once stopping until we were outside, clear of the smoke and fire.

A small crowd broke into cheers when they saw me emerge from the structure with the child. The entire apartment block had been vacated. I glanced up the street and saw the line of spectators double as they observed the fire. I turned and continued walking.

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