GIRL LOST
by Nazarea Andrews
May 3014
Goodreads link:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20648608-girl-lost
BOOK
SUMMARY:
Northern was
supposed to be a fresh start—a place where people didn’t know who I was or how
I had spent years in and out of mental institutes. People didn't know about my
parents death or the island no one heard of. But when Peter sits next to me in
lit class, I can’t stop the memories, and I don’t want to. He looks too much
like the boy from the island, and despite my best intentions, coaxes my secrets
from me.
He’s gorgeous, irresistible, a little mad, and
completely lost—we are a pair of broken cogs in a world neither of us truly
fits into. And he listens when I talk, about the past and the terrifying
future. He is somehow gentle and fierce, heartbreaking in his devotion and
savage in his defense.
When Belle, his best friend, shows up, pale
and lovely and sick, Peter pulls away from me, a startling withdrawal. It’s a
relationship that scares and confuses me. She is at times warm and friendly,
and other times is violent and unpredictable.
Peter says that he wants me, but refuses to
let himself get close. And there are secrets, surrounding both of us, that
border on nightmares. As the memories close in, as Belle gets sicker and more
violent, I’m torn between what is true and what I believe, and what this
magical boy knows about my mysterious past.
*Suitable for 17+. A romantic contemporary retelling of the boy who
never grew up.
GIRL LOST BY NAZAREA ANDREWS
I shrug.
"Because I can't help but trust you. Even though it's stupid and I have no
good reason for it--I want to trust you. I want you to be someone I can
trust." I open my mouth, to tell him about the boy, about why it is so
important to me. Why I should stay away from him, and why I can't seem to.
Peter speaks
first. "I don't know who your father is. I don't know why you want to run
from your past. But the thing is, Gwen, I don't care. I want to be part of now.
I'll fight tooth and nail to be part of now."
"What if now
is temporary?" I ask, thinking about my aunt and my tenuous grasp on
sanity and all the reasons I should step away from Peter.
"Then we
enjoy what we have," he murmurs. I shudder as his voice wraps around me,
as warm as the hand curving around my neck. He makes a low noise, and lifts me,
until I'm sitting in the circle of his crossed legs. Pressed against him. I can
feel his heartbeat through his shirt, the unsteady pounding. His fingers are
still pressed against my hips, still holding onto me despite having me where he
wants.
I should move
back, put distance between us, so he knows that this isn’t ok. I sit still and
silent in his arms and wait for the chiding voice, telling me it’s wrong.
The voice that has
drown out every thought and feeling, every time a boy has touched me.
But it’s silent,
oddly absent—maybe it is as charmed by Peter’s appearance as I am.
“What is Lane, to
you?” he asks, breaking my thoughts.
I shrug, looking
at the pulse point pounding in his throat. “A friend.”
“I don’t want you
near him.” He says.
There is a part of
me, slight but there, that is annoyed by his pronouncement. But the bigger part
is smirking, leaning in so that my lips tickle along his neck. Peter goes very
still, as I whisper, a hairs breath from his skin, “Are you jealous?”
His voice is low,
gravelly, “Yes. Fuck, yes I am. I don’t want any man near you—I hate Micah for
being your brother. I want you with me, always.”
His voice is so
fierce, wild. It’s a savagery that is at odds with the soft circle of his arms,
the gentle press of his fingers on my back.
That is all
tenderness and fragile care.
Author
Information
Nazarea Andrews is an avid reader
and tends to write the stories she wants to read. She loves chocolate and
coffee almost as much as she loves books, but not quite as much as she loves
her kids. She lives in south Georgia with her husband, daughters, and overgrown
dog.
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