New Release + Excerpt + Review – HOW THE LIGHT GETS IN by L.H. Cosway

We’re celebrating the release of HOW THE LIGHT GETS IN by L.H. Cosway!

Synopsis

He came back to me 16 minutes and 59 seconds into Beethoven’s Symphony no. 7.

We parted amid tragedy, so it seemed poetic. Dylan O’Dea, my childhood sweetheart, had once

meant everything to me. Now we were strangers, and honestly, after eleven years I never thought

I’d see him again.

I lived in the world of the average, of getting paid by the hour and budgeting to make ends meet. But

Dylan, he lived in the world of wealth and success. He’d achieved the great things I always suspected

he would. The dissatisfaction he’d felt as a teenager had obviously been an excellent motivator.

He started a business from scratch, pioneered a brand, and created perfumes adored by women

across the globe. I was just one of the people who’d been there before. Now he was living his best

life in the after.

And me, well, I’d been in a dark place for a while. Slowly but surely, I was letting the light back in, but there was something missing. I was an unfinished sentence with an ellipsis at the end. And maybe, if I was brave enough to take the chance, Dylan could be my happy ending.

How the Light Gets In is Book #2 and the concluding installment in L.H. Cosway’s Cracks duet.

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how the light gets in

THIS STORY IS MY LIFE!!!!

description

A tragedy broke apart Evelyn and Dylan. While, Evelyn believed they’ll never get another shot at love, Dylan was hopeful that he’d find a way to make Ev his again. She didn’t imagine him to have changed so much. He went from a surly teenager to a business mogul who is in complete charge of his life. She certainly didn’t expect the intensity that radiates from him. She couldn’t have possibly been prepared for the love that she sees in his eyes.

Her heart might be broken but his love is her light and he’ll make her see that.

description

This book takes place some years after A Crack In Everything and I’d like to state that this story is my most favourite LH Cosway book. EVER!! She broke my heart in the previous book but she more that made up for it, y’all!

Dylan’s transformation is everything I LIVE FOR. He became just the perfect kind of man any girl could ever ask for. I adore the fact that he never gave up on his love, I adore the way he credit Ev for his entire success and I fucking adore the way he loved her. It was the purest kind of love and by God it made my heart the happiest place on Earth.

I am just really fucking in love with Evelyn and Dylan. Their love wasn’t easy but GODDAMNIT giving up wasn’t an option.

Also, below is an actual representation of me whenever Dylan dirty-talked.

5 Stars!

~Sonal

Excerpt

One
Inner City Dublin, Ireland. 2006.

Waiting for a flower bud to open was one of my favourite things.
It started out like a closed little pistachio. The next day its petals moved. The following day they spread. The day after that they spread a little bit more, and then finally the flower blossomed to its full potential.
I was waiting for the buds on my pink hibiscus to open, but they still had a few days to go yet. I poured a little water into the pot with a plastic bottle then screwed the cap back on. I was just about to place it on the shelf when someone hammered on my door.
It was a panicked knock, one that demanded attention. In this neighbourhood, it didn’t always bode well to open the door to knocking like this. I squinted through the peephole and recognised a boy I went to school with. His name was Dylan O’Dea, or was it O’Toole? Anyway, I was pretty sure he lived one or two floors below me here at St Mary’s Villas.
Don’t let the ‘Villas’ part fool you. There was nothing villa-like about this place. St Mary’s War Bunker would’ve been a more appropriate title. Everything was grey. The windows gave the barest minimum of light and every single flat smelled vaguely of mildew, no matter how much you cleaned or aired the place.
Dylan looked sweaty and desperate, and there was something about his panicked gaze that had me unlocking my door for him. Before I even had the chance to say a word, he barrelled in and slammed the door shut behind him.
“What the hell!” I exclaimed, at once regretting my decision. I lived with my aunt Yvonne, but she was at work and wouldn’t be home for hours.
Dylan stared me dead in the eye, his chest heaving, and raised a finger to his mouth in the universal gesture of ‘be quiet.’ I closed my mouth and a second later noise sounded from outside. People banged on doors the same way Dylan had been banging on mine. Our eyes met again, and he must’ve sensed I was going to say something because he came at me. He backed me up against the wall until his frame surrounded mine and his hand went to my mouth. I instantly struggled but then he whispered in my ear.
“Please, don’t make any noise. Some people are after me. I just need to hide here for a few minutes and then I’ll leave. I promise.”
I glared at him and lifted my foot to stomp on his ankle. He swore under his breath but didn’t loosen his hold.
“Fuck you,” I mumbled past his fingers. “Get out!” It sounded more like, “Fup Ooo. Et oot.”
“Please, Evelyn. I need your help.”
My heart hammered. He knew my name. Although it wasn’t so strange since most people knew each other’s names around here. It just felt odd for him to address me so familiarly, because we’d never spoken.
The sincerity in his dark blue eyes made me pause in my struggle. We stared at each other for another long moment, and goosebumps claimed my skin. His chest was wide and solid, and he smelled like cloves.
“If I lower my hand, do you promise not to scream?” he asked very quietly.
I nodded slowly, and his hand left my mouth. “Who’s after you?” I whispered, worried he’d brought trouble to my door.
“A few lads from the McCarthy gang. They’ve been trying to recruit me. I told Tommy McCarthy to go fuck off and now they want to give me a hiding.”
“Shite,” I breathed.
The knocking came closer. Whoever it was reached the flat next to mine and hammered on the door. I held still, barely breathing. My eyes traced Dylan’s face, his dark blue eyes, masculine jaw, and gruff expression. He wore grey jeans, black boots and a navy padded jacket. His sandy hair was somewhere in between blond and brown, and it had a slight curl to it. It was clipped short, so the curl didn’t have much room to . . . be curly.
He was very attractive, but that didn’t take away from the fact that he’d basically broken into my home. When my neighbour came out and started talking to the lads who were looking for Dylan, I whispered, “Why did you come here to hide?”
He made a thoughtful expression, his brow furrowing in a way that made him look like a grumpy bear. “What?”
“You could’ve gone into any flat, why this one?”
There was a beat of silece, then finally he whispered back, “Because you’re the only person on this row who wouldn’t feed me to the wolves.”
I arched a brow. “You don’t know that.”
You don’t know me.
Before he had a chance to reply, the banging started on my door. My chest seized, clutched by fear, because I knew the type of blokes who were out there.
Poor. Hard. Brutal.
Suddenly, Dylan was on me again, his hand on my mouth, his body holding mine in place. This time I didn’t struggle, instead I held still and stayed quiet. A shiver trickled down my spine at his closeness. I wasn’t often this close to people I hardly knew.
“Answer the bleedin’ door,” a male voice shouted. “Or I’ll knock it the fuck down.”
“Maybe I should answer and tell them you’re not here,” I whispered against his fingers.
He glanced down at me, probably because my lips were on his skin. He tilted his head, like he found it in some way interesting, then said, “No, they’ll come in and ransack the place.”
I let out an anxious breath. He was right. And I couldn’t do that to Yvonne. I couldn’t have her come home from her shift at the bar to a wrecked flat.
More banging ensued. I startled when a head appeared at the window, though thankfully Yvonne’s net curtains shielded us from view.
“He’s not in there,” someone said. “He probably ran down to the Willows.”
The Willows was a dilapidated block of flats about five minutes away. It was where people went to drink and do drugs. If you were homeless, it was where you went to sleep.
“Come on,” the same person said and the guy peering in the window disappeared. Dylan let go of me, took three strides across the room and looked out through the curtains.
“They’re gone,” he said and exhaled, his shoulders slumping in relief.
“Yes, now you should go, too,” I said, on guard again. I felt on edge having a strange boy in my flat who I’d never even spoken to before. Though ‘boy’ wasn’t exactly the right term. Dylan was probably about a year older than me, eighteen maybe, but he was built like a man. Soon his shoulders would get even broader, his features more defined. He’d be a sight to be reckoned with then, I was sure.
He turned back to look at me, one eyebrow arching as he stared me down. He didn’t do anything for a long moment and then his attention moved about the living room. His tension faded, and something like fondness, or maybe amusement, took its place.
“Big fan of New York?” he asked wryly, taking in all the posters and memorabilia.
I cleared my throat. “No, my aunt Yvonne is. She saw When Harry Met Sally and became obsessed. She’s saving up to move there in a couple years.”
Dylan’s mouth formed an attractive, thoughtful line. “And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Will you go with her?”
I shrugged. “I don’t think so. Probably not. My grandma lives in the retirement home in Broadstone. We’re all she has. I couldn’t leave her.”
Dylan took this in, his dark eyes softening, then stepped to the front door. “Thanks for letting me hide here. I owe you one,” he said, ducking his head to make sure the coast was clear.
“Sure,” I said, not knowing what else to say.
He looked back at me one last time. “See ya, Evelyn.” And then he was gone.
***
“I’m sorry, but I’d sell my own mother for a night with Jared Leto, no question,” said Sam as we walked to English on Monday.
“Are we talking 30 Seconds to Mars Jared Leto or Jordan Catalano Jared?” I asked. “Because those are two entirely different kettles of fish.”
“30 Seconds, of course. You know I can’t resist a man in eyeliner,” he said then winked. We reached our lockers when a familiar head of sandy brown hair emerged from the crowd.
Dylan.
He must’ve sensed my attention, because his eyes flashed to mine. I sucked in a harsh breath at the sight of him. He had a purple bruise beneath one eye, and there were various other cuts and grazes all over his face. Jesus.
Sam followed where I was looking and made a crass comment. “Looks like Dylan O’Dea likes it rough.”
So it was O’Dea.
“I think he got that beating on the streets, not in the sheets,” I said, chewing worriedly on my lip. Those McCarthy fellas must’ve caught up to him yesterday.
“Good one.” Sam chuckled, but I didn’t share his humour.
A pang of concern hit me square in the chest and I moved toward him automatically, leaving Sam by his locker. Dylan saw me approach and stopped in place, his attention skittering over me. He hitched his bag up on his shoulder and let out a gruff breath. “What?” he asked.
“They got you, didn’t they?”
He shifted from foot to foot, seeming uncomfortable with my concern. “Nah, walked into a wall.”
“Don’t be cute.”
Another sigh. “Yeah. They got me, blondie. Probably better to get it over with anyway. Now maybe they’ll leave me alone.”
I nodded slowly, not sure how to react to his endearment. It wasn’t very original, but it still made my breastplate tingle. “You think?”
“I hope, but who knows.”
“Have any teachers asked about your bruises?”
He gave me an incredulous look. “Where do you think we are? Nobody gives a shit here.”
I hated that he was right. The teachers at this school were either too mean or too downtrodden to care about students’ home lives. In a way, I didn’t blame them. Even the nice teachers eventually got so sick of being bullied and verbally abused that they shut off all their emotions. This wasn’t a soft place to grow up, but I liked to think I still had a heart.
I didn’t think before I said my next words. “Well, I give a shit.”
He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Why?”
“Because I’m not an unfeeling rock, that’s why.”
Dylan stared off over my head and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You probably should be,” he said, then walked by me and disappeared back into the crowd.
Huh.
“Oh blondie, get your bum over here,” Sam crooned, and I turned back to my friend.
“What?” I asked.
“I didn’t know you and Dylan O’Dea were acquainted.”
I frowned. “We’re not. Not really.”
He folded his arms and pursed his lips. “Sure sounded like you are.”
“He was being chased by some blokes who wanted to beat him yesterday and I let him hide in my flat. That’s it.”
“Oooh, racy. Did he happen to hide in your bedroom by any chance? And did you share a sexy moment once the coast was clear? How did he express his gratitude?”
Trust Sam to turn everything into some sort of risqué soap opera. Although thinking about it, the way Dylan held his hand over my mouth did give me a flutter in my belly.
“He told me he owed me one,” I replied with a shrug. Sam’s eyes glittered.
“That means he owes you a good rogering.”
“Sam!”
“What?”
“Don’t be disgusting.”
“Nothing disgusting about sex with a fella like that, Ev. Besides, you need to lose that flower of yours before it shrivels up and dies.”
I scrunched my face. “Please don’t call it a flower. And anyway, I’m not the only one who needs to lose it, so you can quit talking like you know it all.”
He gave me a sassy look. “If I were as straight and as pretty as you are, I’d have lost it years ago. It’s not exactly easy to find gays in this neck of the woods.”
“Not easy to find gays who are out, you mean. Just wait for the next person who throws some homophobic slur at you and there’s a good chance he’s in the closet.”
“Hmm, I do get a hint of an angry sex vibe from Shane Huntley sometimes. Maybe you’re onto something.”
Speak of the devil. A few seconds after Sam mentioned him, Shane walked by with his ever-present posse of arseholes, usual sneer in place. I wondered why the meanest kids always seemed to have the most friends. I didn’t have a mean bone in my body and the only real friend I had was Sam. Shane walked on, not acknowledging us aside from his sneering expression, and I turned to neaten up my locker.
“I found a book on Freud in Yvonne’s collection,” I told him. “He had this theory that when we see the things we dislike in ourselves in others, we hate on it.”
“Hmm,” said Sam. “Could be some truth to it. But anyway, back to the luscious Mr O’Dea, when are you going to cash in on that debt?”
I chuckled. “Not sure. Maybe the next time I need some help moving furniture. The boy’s got some serious shoulders on him.”
“All the better for throwing you around the bedroom with.”
I shot him an irritable glance. “You’re not going to quit with this, are you?”
His answering wink was pure devilment. “Not in this lifetime, blondie.”


DON’T MISS THE FIRST BOOK IN THIS DUET!!!


A Crack In Everything (Cracks Duet)
Age Group: Adult

Release Date: January 30, 2018

Life used to be simple.

I was a city girl with humble dreams. Then Dylan O’Dea broke into my flat, held me against the wall and told me to stay quiet.

It was like in the movies, where the universe zeros in on a single scene. I looked into his eyes and knew he was going to change me.

For Dylan, the sky was always falling. He showed me how our world is a contradiction of beauty and ugliness. How we choose to ignore the awful and gloss over it with the palatable. How you need just a tiny drop of something unsavoury to create every great scent.

Pretty deep for a pair of teenagers living in a block of council flats in inner city Dublin, right Probably. But we weren’t typical. We both had our obsessions. Mine was growing things, Dylan’s was scent. He taught me how to use my nose, and I introduced him to the magic of flowers.

I had no idea that one day he’d build an empire from what we started together. But before that, there was love and happiness, tragedy and epic heartbreak…

My name is Evelyn Flynn and I’m going to tell you about the crack in everything.

A Crack in Everything is Book #1 in L.H. Cosway’s Cracks duet.

Add to Goodreads

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About the Author


L.H. Cosway lives in Dublin, Ireland. Her inspiration to write comes from music. Her favourite things in life include writing stories, vintage clothing, dark cabaret music, food, musical comedy, and of course, books. She thinks that imperfect people are the most interesting kind. They tell the best stories. L.H. is represented by Louise Fury at The Bent Agency.

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New Release + Excerpt + Review – A CRACK IN EVERYTHING by L.H. Cosway


We’re celebrating the release of A CRACK IN EVERYTHING by L.H. Cosway!


Title: A Crack In Everything (Cracks Duet)
Age Group: Adult
Release Date: January 30, 2018

Add to Goodreads

Life used to be simple.

I was a city girl with humble dreams. Then Dylan O’Dea broke into my flat, held me against the wall and told me to stay quiet.

It was like in the movies, where the universe zeros in on a single scene. I looked into his eyes and knew he was going to change me.

For Dylan, the sky was always falling. He showed me how our world is a contradiction of beauty and ugliness. How we choose to ignore the awful and gloss over it with the palatable. How you need just a tiny drop of something unsavoury to create every great scent.

Pretty deep for a pair of teenagers living in a block of council flats in inner city Dublin, right Probably. But we weren’t typical. We both had our obsessions. Mine was growing things, Dylan’s was scent. He taught me how to use my nose, and I introduced him to the magic of flowers.

I had no idea that one day he’d build an empire from what we started together. But before that, there was love and happiness, tragedy and epic heartbreak…

My name is Evelyn Flynn and I’m going to tell you about the crack in everything.

A Crack in Everything is Book #1 in L.H. Cosway’s Cracks duet.

Purchase today!

Amazon | iBooks | B&N | Kobo

a crack in everything

The title is pretty apt because this book left so many cracks in my heart. *ugly crying*

Evelyn Flynn lived a pretty simple life devoid of complications and drama. She had certain aims and dreams but none of them took into account the magnificent Dylan O’Dea. She didn’t expect to fall in love with him so fast. She didn’t expect him to be her entire World.

He is her exact opposite but when love slips through the cracks, nothing else matters.

description

DYLAN O’DEA IS TOO PURE FOR THIS CURE FUCKING WORLD! Y’all don’t know how much I wanted to hug this boy. He is just the most amazing fictional person in the history of fiction. My heart aches for all the burdens he bears. And the beautiful way he loved Evelyn just made my soul happy. If any person in this World deserved to be loved and happy, it’s Dylan.

description

This story is about two very different people who find love and comfort in each other. I was so invested in their story, I stayed up all night thinking about them getting their HEA. These two are just meant to be together and balance each other in the most beautiful of ways. I JUST LOVE THEM SO MUCH!!!

5 Stars!

~Sonal


Excerpt

One
Inner City Dublin, Ireland. 2006.

Waiting for a flower bud to open was one of my favourite things.
It started out like a closed little pistachio. The next day its petals moved. The following day they spread. The day after that they spread a little bit more, and then finally the flower blossomed to its full potential.
I was waiting for the buds on my pink hibiscus to open, but they still had a few days to go yet. I poured a little water into the pot with a plastic bottle then screwed the cap back on. I was just about to place it on the shelf when someone hammered on my door.
It was a panicked knock, one that demanded attention. In this neighbourhood, it didn’t always bode well to open the door to knocking like this. I squinted through the peephole and recognised a boy I went to school with. His name was Dylan O’Dea, or was it O’Toole? Anyway, I was pretty sure he lived one or two floors below me here at St Mary’s Villas.
Don’t let the ‘Villas’ part fool you. There was nothing villa-like about this place. St Mary’s War Bunker would’ve been a more appropriate title. Everything was grey. The windows gave the barest minimum of light and every single flat smelled vaguely of mildew, no matter how much you cleaned or aired the place.
Dylan looked sweaty and desperate, and there was something about his panicked gaze that had me unlocking my door for him. Before I even had the chance to say a word, he barrelled in and slammed the door shut behind him.
“What the hell!” I exclaimed, at once regretting my decision. I lived with my aunt Yvonne, but she was at work and wouldn’t be home for hours.
Dylan stared me dead in the eye, his chest heaving, and raised a finger to his mouth in the universal gesture of ‘be quiet.’ I closed my mouth and a second later noise sounded from outside. People banged on doors the same way Dylan had been banging on mine. Our eyes met again, and he must’ve sensed I was going to say something because he came at me. He backed me up against the wall until his frame surrounded mine and his hand went to my mouth. I instantly struggled but then he whispered in my ear.
“Please, don’t make any noise. Some people are after me. I just need to hide here for a few minutes and then I’ll leave. I promise.”
I glared at him and lifted my foot to stomp on his ankle. He swore under his breath but didn’t loosen his hold.
“Fuck you,” I mumbled past his fingers. “Get out!” It sounded more like, “Fup Ooo. Et oot.”
“Please, Evelyn. I need your help.”
My heart hammered. He knew my name. Although it wasn’t so strange since most people knew each other’s names around here. It just felt odd for him to address me so familiarly, because we’d never spoken.
The sincerity in his dark blue eyes made me pause in my struggle. We stared at each other for another long moment, and goosebumps claimed my skin. His chest was wide and solid, and he smelled like cloves.
“If I lower my hand, do you promise not to scream?” he asked very quietly.
I nodded slowly, and his hand left my mouth. “Who’s after you?” I whispered, worried he’d brought trouble to my door.
“A few lads from the McCarthy gang. They’ve been trying to recruit me. I told Tommy McCarthy to go fuck off and now they want to give me a hiding.”
“Shite,” I breathed.
The knocking came closer. Whoever it was reached the flat next to mine and hammered on the door. I held still, barely breathing. My eyes traced Dylan’s face, his dark blue eyes, masculine jaw, and gruff expression. He wore grey jeans, black boots and a navy padded jacket. His sandy hair was somewhere in between blond and brown, and it had a slight curl to it. It was clipped short, so the curl didn’t have much room to . . . be curly.
He was very attractive, but that didn’t take away from the fact that he’d basically broken into my home. When my neighbour came out and started talking to the lads who were looking for Dylan, I whispered, “Why did you come here to hide?”
He made a thoughtful expression, his brow furrowing in a way that made him look like a grumpy bear. “What?”
“You could’ve gone into any flat, why this one?”
There was a beat of silece, then finally he whispered back, “Because you’re the only person on this row who wouldn’t feed me to the wolves.”
I arched a brow. “You don’t know that.”
You don’t know me.
Before he had a chance to reply, the banging started on my door. My chest seized, clutched by fear, because I knew the type of blokes who were out there.
Poor. Hard. Brutal.
Suddenly, Dylan was on me again, his hand on my mouth, his body holding mine in place. This time I didn’t struggle, instead I held still and stayed quiet. A shiver trickled down my spine at his closeness. I wasn’t often this close to people I hardly knew.
“Answer the bleedin’ door,” a male voice shouted. “Or I’ll knock it the fuck down.”
“Maybe I should answer and tell them you’re not here,” I whispered against his fingers.
He glanced down at me, probably because my lips were on his skin. He tilted his head, like he found it in some way interesting, then said, “No, they’ll come in and ransack the place.”
I let out an anxious breath. He was right. And I couldn’t do that to Yvonne. I couldn’t have her come home from her shift at the bar to a wrecked flat.
More banging ensued. I startled when a head appeared at the window, though thankfully Yvonne’s net curtains shielded us from view.
“He’s not in there,” someone said. “He probably ran down to the Willows.”
The Willows was a dilapidated block of flats about five minutes away. It was where people went to drink and do drugs. If you were homeless, it was where you went to sleep.
“Come on,” the same person said and the guy peering in the window disappeared. Dylan let go of me, took three strides across the room and looked out through the curtains.
“They’re gone,” he said and exhaled, his shoulders slumping in relief.
“Yes, now you should go, too,” I said, on guard again. I felt on edge having a strange boy in my flat who I’d never even spoken to before. Though ‘boy’ wasn’t exactly the right term. Dylan was probably about a year older than me, eighteen maybe, but he was built like a man. Soon his shoulders would get even broader, his features more defined. He’d be a sight to be reckoned with then, I was sure.
He turned back to look at me, one eyebrow arching as he stared me down. He didn’t do anything for a long moment and then his attention moved about the living room. His tension faded, and something like fondness, or maybe amusement, took its place.
“Big fan of New York?” he asked wryly, taking in all the posters and memorabilia.
I cleared my throat. “No, my aunt Yvonne is. She saw When Harry Met Sally and became obsessed. She’s saving up to move there in a couple years.”
Dylan’s mouth formed an attractive, thoughtful line. “And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Will you go with her?”
I shrugged. “I don’t think so. Probably not. My grandma lives in the retirement home in Broadstone. We’re all she has. I couldn’t leave her.”
Dylan took this in, his dark eyes softening, then stepped to the front door. “Thanks for letting me hide here. I owe you one,” he said, ducking his head to make sure the coast was clear.
“Sure,” I said, not knowing what else to say.
He looked back at me one last time. “See ya, Evelyn.” And then he was gone.
***
“I’m sorry, but I’d sell my own mother for a night with Jared Leto, no question,” said Sam as we walked to English on Monday.
“Are we talking 30 Seconds to Mars Jared Leto or Jordan Catalano Jared?” I asked. “Because those are two entirely different kettles of fish.”
“30 Seconds, of course. You know I can’t resist a man in eyeliner,” he said then winked. We reached our lockers when a familiar head of sandy brown hair emerged from the crowd.
Dylan.
He must’ve sensed my attention, because his eyes flashed to mine. I sucked in a harsh breath at the sight of him. He had a purple bruise beneath one eye, and there were various other cuts and grazes all over his face. Jesus.
Sam followed where I was looking and made a crass comment. “Looks like Dylan O’Dea likes it rough.”
So it was O’Dea.
“I think he got that beating on the streets, not in the sheets,” I said, chewing worriedly on my lip. Those McCarthy fellas must’ve caught up to him yesterday.
“Good one.” Sam chuckled, but I didn’t share his humour.
A pang of concern hit me square in the chest and I moved toward him automatically, leaving Sam by his locker. Dylan saw me approach and stopped in place, his attention skittering over me. He hitched his bag up on his shoulder and let out a gruff breath. “What?” he asked.
“They got you, didn’t they?”
He shifted from foot to foot, seeming uncomfortable with my concern. “Nah, walked into a wall.”
“Don’t be cute.”
Another sigh. “Yeah. They got me, blondie. Probably better to get it over with anyway. Now maybe they’ll leave me alone.”
I nodded slowly, not sure how to react to his endearment. It wasn’t very original, but it still made my breastplate tingle. “You think?”
“I hope, but who knows.”
“Have any teachers asked about your bruises?”
He gave me an incredulous look. “Where do you think we are? Nobody gives a shit here.”
I hated that he was right. The teachers at this school were either too mean or too downtrodden to care about students’ home lives. In a way, I didn’t blame them. Even the nice teachers eventually got so sick of being bullied and verbally abused that they shut off all their emotions. This wasn’t a soft place to grow up, but I liked to think I still had a heart.
I didn’t think before I said my next words. “Well, I give a shit.”
He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Why?”
“Because I’m not an unfeeling rock, that’s why.”
Dylan stared off over my head and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You probably should be,” he said, then walked by me and disappeared back into the crowd.
Huh.
“Oh blondie, get your bum over here,” Sam crooned, and I turned back to my friend.
“What?” I asked.
“I didn’t know you and Dylan O’Dea were acquainted.”
I frowned. “We’re not. Not really.”
He folded his arms and pursed his lips. “Sure sounded like you are.”
“He was being chased by some blokes who wanted to beat him yesterday and I let him hide in my flat. That’s it.”
“Oooh, racy. Did he happen to hide in your bedroom by any chance? And did you share a sexy moment once the coast was clear? How did he express his gratitude?”
Trust Sam to turn everything into some sort of risqué soap opera. Although thinking about it, the way Dylan held his hand over my mouth did give me a flutter in my belly.
“He told me he owed me one,” I replied with a shrug. Sam’s eyes glittered.
“That means he owes you a good rogering.”
“Sam!”
“What?”
“Don’t be disgusting.”
“Nothing disgusting about sex with a fella like that, Ev. Besides, you need to lose that flower of yours before it shrivels up and dies.”
I scrunched my face. “Please don’t call it a flower. And anyway, I’m not the only one who needs to lose it, so you can quit talking like you know it all.”
He gave me a sassy look. “If I were as straight and as pretty as you are, I’d have lost it years ago. It’s not exactly easy to find gays in this neck of the woods.”
“Not easy to find gays who are out, you mean. Just wait for the next person who throws some homophobic slur at you and there’s a good chance he’s in the closet.”
“Hmm, I do get a hint of an angry sex vibe from Shane Huntley sometimes. Maybe you’re onto something.”
Speak of the devil. A few seconds after Sam mentioned him, Shane walked by with his ever-present posse of arseholes, usual sneer in place. I wondered why the meanest kids always seemed to have the most friends. I didn’t have a mean bone in my body and the only real friend I had was Sam. Shane walked on, not acknowledging us aside from his sneering expression, and I turned to neaten up my locker.
“I found a book on Freud in Yvonne’s collection,” I told him. “He had this theory that when we see the things we dislike in ourselves in others, we hate on it.”
“Hmm,” said Sam. “Could be some truth to it. But anyway, back to the luscious Mr O’Dea, when are you going to cash in on that debt?”
I chuckled. “Not sure. Maybe the next time I need some help moving furniture. The boy’s got some serious shoulders on him.”
“All the better for throwing you around the bedroom with.”
I shot him an irritable glance. “You’re not going to quit with this, are you?”
His answering wink was pure devilment. “Not in this lifetime, blondie.”

How The Light Gets In releases on February 6, 2018!

Pre-order now!

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Add to Goodreads

He came back to me 16 minutes and 59 seconds into Beethoven’s Symphony no. 7.

We parted amid tragedy, so it seemed poetic. Dylan O’Dea, my childhood sweetheart, had once

meant everything to me. Now we were strangers, and honestly, after eleven years I never thought

I’d see him again.

I lived in the world of the average, of getting paid by the hour and budgeting to make ends meet. But

Dylan, he lived in the world of wealth and success. He’d achieved the great things I always suspected

he would. The dissatisfaction he’d felt as a teenager had obviously been an excellent motivator.

He started a business from scratch, pioneered a brand, and created perfumes adored by women

across the globe. I was just one of the people who’d been there before. Now he was living his best

life in the after.

And me, well, I’d been in a dark place for a while. Slowly but surely, I was letting the light back in, but there was something missing. I was an unfinished sentence with an ellipsis at the end. And maybe, if I was brave enough to take the chance, Dylan could be my happy ending.

How the Light Gets In is Book #2 and the concluding installment in L.H. Cosway’s Cracks duet.


About the Author


L.H. Cosway lives in Dublin, Ireland. Her inspiration to write comes from music. Her favourite things in life include writing stories, vintage clothing, dark cabaret music, food, musical comedy, and of course, books. She thinks that imperfect people are the most interesting kind. They tell the best stories. L.H. is represented by Louise Fury at The Bent Agency.

Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Website | Pinterest


New Release + Review – HEARTS ON AIR by L.H. Cosway


Hearts On Air by L.H. Cosway is live!!! Check out my review and the giveaway below!

Title: Hearts On Air
Genre: Contemporary Romance/Romantic Suspense
Release Date: June 8, 2017

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Synopsis

3 weeks. 5 cities. 15 impossible stunts. One reality show.

Trevor Cross came into Reya Cabrera’s world with a bang and faded out with a whimper. They vowed to make it work, but life had other plans. After chasing his TV dreams for years, Trev finally became the UK’s next big reality star, but he alienated his family and friends in the process. Now he finally has everything he ever wanted. Women. Money. Fame. But none of it means anything when he doesn’t have the one thing that matters most: love.

Money leaves a gaping hole. Fame surrounds him with loneliness. And no woman makes him feel like Reya used to before the whirlwind of success pulled them apart.

He has a plan to get her back. However, with a hectic filming schedule looming, the only way to do that is to convince her to come on the road with him. Reya has been stuck in a rut for a while, and the opportunity to travel across Europe and play her music for new audiences seems like heaven. The only catch? She has to do it with the one boy who ever got close enough to break her heart. But he’s not a boy anymore, and as she gets to know him again she can’t deny her respect for the man he’s become.

Every time she’s around him her heart feels full of air, like a balloon about to pop. Little does she know, Trev’s feelings are just as tumultuous as hers. One thing’s for sure, these three weeks on the road together will either make them whole again or break them irrevocably.

**Hearts on Air is a contemporary romance and book #6 in the Hearts series, however it can also be read as a complete standalone.**

hearts on air

5+ Heart eyed stars!!!!

Trevor Cross and Reya Cabrera were best friends then they were together. They promised to make it work, promised to give their all. Then Trevor broke his promise and with it Reya’s heart. Trevor has money, fame and women but not Reya, the only one he wants. He knows he wronged her but now he has a plan to get her back. It might involve making Reya tag along with him on his tour. She needs to see how he isn’t the same person he was before and the only way is by keeping her close. This game can either bring them together or tear them apart forever.

I am so emotional, y’all!! I absolutely love this series and I got teary seeing it end.

I am absolutely in LOVE with Trevor. He was such an amazing hero. I know he wasn’t perfect and had his flaws but he tried to correct himself and tried to be a better person. That is what endeared him to me. He owned up to his mistakes and did everything he could to be worthy of the woman he loved. Such a great romantic hero. Also it doesn’t hurt that he was SUPER hot. *heart eyes*

I admire Reya for being such a strong character. She was just so real and someone you could really look up to. I wanna hug her so hard and protect her from the cruel world but nah she doesn’t need it because I know she is a warrior.

L.H. Cosway has crafted another epic love story that will stay with me forever. I am so so buzzed for her future projects and just yeah I’m going to re-read this series.

~Sonal

GIVEAWAY!!

(1) A signed paperback copy of the book
(1) Swag and a $50 Amazon giftcard
a Rafflecopter giveaway


About the Author


L.H. Cosway lives in Dublin, Ireland. Her inspiration to write comes from music. Her favourite things in life include writing stories, vintage clothing, dark cabaret music, food, musical comedy, and of course, books. She thinks that imperfect people are the most interesting kind. They tell the best stories. L.H. is represented by Louise Fury at The Bent Agency.

Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Website | Pinterest

 


Review: HEARTS ON AIR by L.H. Cosway

hearts on air.jpg

5+ Heart eyed stars!!!!

Trevor Cross and Reya Cabrera were best friends then they were together. They promised to make it work, promised to give their all. Then Trevor broke his promise and with it Reya’s heart. Trevor has money, fame and women but not Reya, the only one he wants. He knows he wronged her but now he has a plan to get her back. It might involve making Reya tag along with him on his tour. She needs to see how he isn’t the same person he was before and the only way is by keeping her close. This game can either bring them together or tear them apart forever.

I am so emotional, y’all!! I absolutely love this series and I got teary seeing it end.

I am absolutely in LOVE with Trevor. He was such an amazing hero. I know he wasn’t perfect and had his flaws but he tried to correct himself and tried to be a better person. That is what endeared him to me. He owned up to his mistakes and did everything he could to be worthy of the woman he loved. Such a great romantic hero. Also it doesn’t hurt that he was SUPER hot. *heart eyes*

I admire Reya for being such a strong character. She was just so real and someone you could really look up to. I wanna hug her so hard and protect her from the cruel world but nah she doesn’t need it because I know she is a warrior.

L.H. Cosway has crafted another epic love story that will stay with me forever. I am so so buzzed for her future projects and just yeah I’m going to re-read this series.

~Sonal


Purchase HEARTS ON AIR today!
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071JC49TG
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B071JC49TG
B&N: http://bit.ly/2nctzy5
iBooks: http://apple.co/2ociIWl
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2mLHYFX
Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2mLNloM

>> Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34723794-hearts-on-air

Synopsis:
3 weeks. 5 cities. 15 impossible stunts.One reality show.

Trevor Cross came into Reya Cabrera’s world with a bang and faded out with a whimper. They vowed to make it work, but life had other plans. After chasing his TV dreams for years, Trev finally became the UK’s next big reality star, but he alienated his family and friends in the process. Now he finally has everything he ever wanted. Women. Money. Fame. But none of it means anything when he doesn’t have the one thing that matters most: love.

Money leaves a gaping hole. Fame surrounds him with loneliness. And no woman makes him feel like Reya used to before the whirlwind of success pulled them apart.

He has a plan to get her back. However, with a hectic filming schedule looming, the only way to do that is to convince her to come on the road with him. Reya has been stuck in a rut for a while, and the opportunity to travel across Europe and play her music for new audiences seems like heaven. The only catch? She has to do it with the one boy who ever got close enough to break her heart. But he’s not a boy anymore, and as she gets to know him again she can’t deny her respect for the man he’s become.

Every time she’s around him her heart feels full of air, like a balloon about to pop. Little does she know, Trev’s feelings are just as tumultuous as hers. One thing’s for sure, these three weeks on the road together will either make them whole again or break them irrevocably.

**Hearts on Air is a contemporary romance and book #6 in the Hearts series, however it can also be read as a complete standalone.**