WRITTEN WITH REGRET (Regret Duet #1) by Aly Martinez-Review & Excerpt tour
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ABOUT THE BOOK: Release Date May 23, 2019
Every little girl dreams of the fairytale. The one where the white knight rushes in to save her from the clutches of evil. They fall in love, have babies, and live happily ever after.
By that definition, my life should have been a fairytale too.
When I was eight years old, Caven Hunt saved me from the worst kind of evil to walk the Earth. It didn’t matter that I was a kid. I fell in love with him all the same.
But that was where my fairytale ended.
Years later, a one-night stand during the darkest time imaginable gave us a little girl. It was nothing compared to the pitch black that consumed me when I was forced to leave her with Caven for good.
At the end of every fairytale, the happily-ever-after is the one thing that remains consistent. It wasn’t going to be mine, but there hadn’t been a night that passed where I hadn’t prayed that it would be hers.
I owed Caven my life.
However, I owed that innocent child more.
And that included ripping the heart from my chest and facing her father again.
•••••••••••••
REVIEW: WRITTEN WITH REGRET is the first instalment in Aly Martinez’ contemporary, adult REGRET erotic, romance duet focusing on IT millionaire Caven Hunt, and artist/photographer Hadley Banks.
NOTE: Due to the graphic nature and basis of the story line content, there may be some triggers for more sensitive readers.
Told dual first person perspectives (Hadley and Caven) using present day and memories from the past WRITTEN WITH REGRET follows the tempestuous and caustic relationship between thirty-three year old IT millionaire Caven Hunt,and twenty seven year old artist/photographer Hadley Banks. Approximately nineteen years earlier, life as they knew, imploded for our story line couple. Fast forward fifteen years wherein a one-night stand left Hadley pregnant with Caven’s child, a child she was unable to care for or raise. Four years would pass before Hadley re-entered her daughter’s life, a life she now shares with her doting father. Hoping to reconnect with the child she loves, Hadley is at the mercy of Caven Hunt for access, and information about Rosalee Hunt. What ensues is the enemies to lovers relationship between Hadley and Caven, and the potential fall-out as Hadley’s motivation comes into question as it pertains to both Caven and their four year old daughter.
Caven and Hadley share a tortured past but a past more closely connected than Caven could have ever imagined. Years of therapy and reluctant acceptance found Hadley struggling to move forward but the possibility of never seeing her child continued to eat away at our story line heroine. Caven Hunt knows the true meaning of evil having lived a life with a monster few knew but of whom many had heard. Battling his own demons Caven must pull it together when a new born child is left on his door.
The relationship between Hadley and Caven is acrimonious at best. Caven is unable to forgive Hadley for sins of the past, ‘abandoning’ their daughter, and never affording him the decency of prior knowledge. Hadley’s state of mind is questionable under the circumstance, a circumstance that continues to pull Hadley towards the man that, years earlier, had saved her life. The $ex scenes are intimate and passionate without the use of over the top, sexually graphic language and text.
We are introduced to Hadley and Caven’s daughter Rosalee; Hadley’s best friend and attorney Beth Watts; Caven’s brother Trent Hunt; best friend and business partner Ian Villa.
WRITTEN WITH REGRET is a forceful and thought provoking story of heart break and loss; of pain and suffering; of regret and trauma. Aly Martinez takes the reader on an emotional journey fraught with anguish and upheaval, regret and bitterness. The premise is dramatic, tragic and intriguing; the romance is provocative and intense; the characters are flawed, broken, and energetic. WRITTEN WITH REGRET ends on a cliff hanger-you have been warned.
Copy supplied for review
Reviewed by Sandy
Life had never been easy for me. Chaos had been following me like a dark cloud, looming and hovering, casting its shadow far and wide despite how bright the path in front of me should have appeared. After growing up the way I had, where happiness had been more of a privilege than a choice, I knew better than to believe that that moment would be anything other than fleeting.
And one second later, the universe proved me right.
I opened the door to see who had rung the bell—a cursory check revealed an empty hallway.
And that’s when I heard it: the sound that changed not only my entire life in the present, but my life for all future days to come.
At first, it was just a grunt, but as if that baby could feel my gaze, the minute my eyes made contact, it let out a sharp cry.
Confusion hit me like a lightning bolt, sending me back a step. I used the door frame for balance as I took in the yellow blanket with a hole only big enough to reveal a pale-pink face.
“What the fuck?” I breathed. Glancing around the hall, I waited for someone to jump out and start laughing. When no one spoke up to issue a punchline, I took a step closer and repeated, “What the fuck?”
I was utterly unable to process the absurdity in front of me.
Of course, I knew the facts.
It was a baby.
On my doorstep.
Alone.
But the why in that equation was glaringly absent.
“Uhhh,” Ian drawled, peering over my shoulder. “Why is there a kid at your door?”
“I have no idea,” I replied, staring down at the squirming and now-screaming bundle. “It was just there when I opened the door.”
Ian shoved me to the side so he could stand beside me. “You’re shitting me, right?”
“Does it look like I’m shitting you?”
He looked from me to the baby, then back again. “How did it get there?”
We were two incredibly smart men who had created a technology empire out of nothing. But, clearly, a baby was too big for either of us to wrap our minds around.
I swept an arm out and pointed to the kid. “I have no clue, but I’m assuming it didn’t catch a cab.”
A light of understanding hit his eyes. He moved first, stepping over the crying baby and hurrying down the hall, searching around the corner near the elevator before returning alone.
The party continued behind me, but even with the door open, the loud chatter was no match for the ear-piecing cries happening in that hallway.
Veronica suddenly appeared beside me, her body going solid as she stammered out. “Is that…a baby?”
“Back up,” I urged, throwing my arm out to block her path as though the infant were going to suddenly morph into a rabid animal. And let’s be honest, I knew nothing about babies. Anything was possible.
Ian dropped to his knees, scooping up the wailing child. Meanwhile, I stood there like a gawking idiot, paralyzed by a weight I didn’t yet understand.
“Call the pol—” He stopped abruptly and reached into the top of the child’s blanket. “Oh shit,” he whispered, his wide, panic-filled eyes flashing to mine.
“What?” I asked, stepping toward him to get a better look at the kid. Only it wasn’t that tiny baby cradled in his arms that made my heart stop and bile rise in my throat.
There, in my best friend’s hand, was a folded piece of notebook paper that had been tucked into the child’s blanket. From the looks of it, the paper was unremarkable in every sense of the word. Blue lines, white spaces, hanging remnants from where it had been haphazardly ripped from a spiral bound notebook. Even the crease was crooked. But it was my name scrawled on the outside in messy, black ink that made it the most remarkable paper in existence.
I snatched it from his hand and, with blood roaring in my ears, opened it.
Caven,
I’m sorry. I never meant for this to happen. This is our daughter Keira. I’ll love her forever. Take care of her the way I can’t.
Written with regret,
Hadley
The hall began to spin, my head feeling like every ounce of blood had been drained from my body. The thundering in my ears faded and the loud chatter of my guests, who were suddenly aware that something was happening at the door, roared to life.
And then the chaos finally found me all over again—the past playing out in my head like my life flashing before my eyes.
I sucked in a deep breath and looked at the baby in his arms. The blanket had fallen off its head just enough to reveal a patch of fine hairs, more orange than its mother’s red.
“Call the police,” I declared, turning on a toe and walking back into my apartment, leaving Ian standing in the hall with Hadley’s child.
Shoving through the crowd of concerned onlookers, I headed straight to the bottles of liquor lining the counter. I didn’t bother with ice or even a glass. I threw back that bottle of vodka, hoping like hell the burn of the alcohol could numb the panic coursing through my veins.
Through it all, that baby never stopped crying.
Originally from Savannah, Georgia, USA Today bestselling author Aly Martinez now lives in South Carolina with her husband and four young children.
Never one to take herself too seriously, she enjoys cheap wine, mystery leggings, and baked feta. It should be known, however, that she hates pizza and ice cream, almost as much as writing her bio in the third person.
She passes what little free time she has reading anything and everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a super-sized tumbler of wine by her side.
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