The extraordinary Transcend Duet by Jewel E. Ann, is AVAILABLE NOW!
Some lives end unfinished, and some transcend time.
After a horrific incident, Swayze finds herself trapped between two lives. Patchy memories and fear for her own safety thrust her into a gut-wrenching journey to uncover the truth.
Will she let her dreams slip away to seek retribution and find the missing pieces to a puzzle that existed a lifetime ago?
“I’m not going to watch you self-destruct. I’m not going to watch you fall in love with another man.”
Or will she discover the only truth that matters?
Epoch pushes the boundaries of what we believe and what we know. It redefines fate and proves that the only thing separating the heart and the soul is an infinite timeline.
“I think a part of you will be mine to love in every life.”
FIVE 🎩🎩🎩🎩🎩 hats from Britt!
Here lies Britt, beloved book addict, taco enthusiast, and starter of shenanigans. Killed by Jewel E. Ann’s most epic of books. She was found clutching her kindle on the last page of Epoch. Stick a fork in me. I am done. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING can top the Journey this duet has taken me on. I honestly don’t know how I’m going to recover.
This isn’t even a book hangover, a book hangover implies I will eventually recover and move on. Transcend and Epoch will forever remain a part of me. I felt so much while reading this. Heartbreak, loss, anger, and love so epic not even time or death could end it. Despite my dramatics I’m still going to keep it vague because you have to experience this. Don’t go looking for spoilers, just get on this roller coaster and be prepared to lose your heart. Also pack tissues. Lots of tissues. And maybe a stress ball. This duet is so worth it.
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He removes his helmet and his bandana while I slide off the Harley. I could watch him all day. The meticulous way he puts our helmets on the shelf and wipes the bugs off his bike mesmerizes me. Griffin takes care of everything he owns-the new shiny things as well as the old, weathered things like his house and garage.
“I think you’re an old soul, Griffin Calloway.”
He hangs the rag on the hook and shoots me his sexiest grocery-store-guy smile. “Why is that?”
“My parents used to tell people I was wise beyond my years because I knew stuff most kids my age didn’t know. That was just knowledge, random facts, not wisdom. But you … you have an appreciation for things and you take care of them like someone twice your age might do.”
“My parents always took care of things. They still do. It’s just how I was raised.” He shrugs.
“No. Hayley and Sophie are complete disasters. I’ve seen their rooms. Chloe is a little tidier but still not you. I don’t think you were conditioned to be this way, I think it’s nature more than nurture.”
“An old soul, huh? From another time?” He pulls me into his chest and nuzzles my neck while lifting me off my feet.
I hug him with my arms, legs, and entire being. It took twenty-one years, but I finally found where I fit in life, and it’s every inch of my body pressed to his.
“You make me feel safe,” I murmur but it sounds more like a moan warring between physical pleasure and emotional pain. It’s an unsettling feeling that I have such a strong need to feel safe. I don’t understand it.
“You are safe,” he says between kisses beneath my ear.
“You make me feel like I belong.” My breaths race to catch up to my pulse.
“You belong with me.” He walks us to the garage door, shuts off the light, and closes the door behind us.
He’s my mind’s favorite place to go. When I think of him-of us-I don’t feel crazy. And maybe I should feel crazy because we’re both young and inexperienced in life and love. But I don’t want to think about the numbers that make up our ages or the months we’ve been together.
We crash through the front door like the first big gust of wind at the front of a storm.
“You make me feel needed,” I whisper just before his mouth claims mine.
His house is bigger than my apartment, but only by one bedroom. We don’t make it to either bedroom. He deposits me on the sofa and shrugs off his shirt.
“I need you.” He unties his boots and kicks them off while unfastening his pants as I shimmy out of my clothes. “In fact, I am pretty fucking sure you’re all I truly need.”
Twenty-three-year-old guys don’t say that. His soul is not simply old, it’s ancient like that of a great poet … who may have said fuck a few times.
I tug at his partially unfastened jeans.
He grabs my hand. “Close your eyes.”
“Why?” My head cocks to the side.
“Because I know you don’t want to see the tattoo on my ass.”
“Shut. Up.” I bat his hand away and tug down his jeans with both hands. A few moments of silence settle between us as I stare at his form before me. “I still blush when I look at you.” My gaze trails up to meet his eyes.
Griffin steps out of his jeans and briefs and kneels on the sofa between my legs as I lie back. “I know what else makes you blush.” He slowly dips his head between my legs, and my fingers curl into the sofa cushion.
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About Jewel E. Ann
Jewel is a free-spirited romance junkie with a quirky sense of humor.
With 10 years of flossing lectures under her belt, she took early retirement from her dental hygiene career to stay home with her three awesome boys and manage the family business.
After her best friend of nearly 30 years suggested a few books from the Contemporary Romance genre, Jewel was hooked. Devouring two and three books a week but still craving more, she decided to practice sustainable reading, AKA writing.
When she’s not donning her cape and saving the planet one tree at a time, she enjoys yoga with friends, good food with family, rock climbing with her kids, watching How I Met Your Mother reruns, and of course…heart-wrenching, tear-jerking, panty-scorching novels.
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