Authors: Julieanne Lynch
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.
Other Books by Julieanne Lynch
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
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.