Synopsis
After
years of trying unsuccessfully to conceive a child, Gemma Walsh discovers her
husband in bed with another woman. Unable to face his betrayal, she
retreats to Priest Lake, where her family owns a small cabin. But Gemma
finds that she is not the only one hiding away at the lake to avoid an ugly
truth.
Growing
up, Andrew Monroe had been an intricate part of Gemma’s life but tragedy and
misunderstanding shattered their bond, separating them, and they have lived
with only their memories of each other for the past twenty years. As they
rekindle their friendship, sparks ignite that neither one of them can resist,
but the ghosts of the past linger between them, jeopardizing everything that
they have worked so hard to rebuild.
Just
when Gemma feels that she has found her second chance at happiness, she is
faced with a shocking truth as her reality spirals out of control. She
can’t deny the powerful force that brought Andrew back into her life anymore
than she can defy the same force that now threatens to pull them apart.
An
emotionally charged, heart-wrenching story that will leave you to question the
freedom in truth and the existence of fate in its deepest sense.
Buy Gravity Here
Excerpt
I should
have noticed the charcoal-gray Marc Jacobs handbag—from last season, no
less—that lay conspicuously on the entryway tile as I crossed the threshold of
my eighth-floor condo where Ryan and I had lived in Seattle for the past six
years, or Ryan’s suit jacket which he had worn to work that morning hanging
carelessly from a hook of the mahogany coat rack, a family heirloom on his
side. Instead, I was consumed with thoughts of how, undoubtedly, this was
turning out to be the worst day ever.
Making my
way directly to the kitchen, I frantically rummaged through the loose papers
that were fanned out on the breakfast table, searching for the Hawkins file
that I had mistakenly left behind this morning in my mad dash out the door. It
would be this day of all days that the board of Hawkins Direct, the
telecommunications company that I was representing, would call for an emergency
meeting in the middle of the day. The one day that I had the absentmindedness
to leave behind a key file in my otherwise flawless and perfectly scheduled
world.
Tucking
the file under my arm, I headed for the front door. Then I heard it. Muffled
voices filtering in from the hallway that led to the master bedroom. My first
thought was that someone was in my home—an intruder—which fueled my senses with
adrenaline and an inkling of fear. But as I made my way down the hall, one foot
in front of the other, scolding myself for not grabbing the magnum
flashlight—my weapon of choice—from the drawer in the kitchen, I heard Ryan’s
deep voice.
I
instantly felt a sense of relief, certain that I was not being robbed—or worse,
that I was about to be attacked—but when I heard a faint giggle, an
unmistakable feminine tone, my fear was quickly replaced with a sense of dread.
That sick feeling that instantly begins to fester in the pit of my stomach,
anticipating what I would find on the other side of the partially closed door
that led to my bedroom. The room where I had shared a bed with my husband of
ten plus years.
I slowly
pushed open the door, my eyes taking in the bare skin of Ryan’s back and the
toned, tanned flesh of the small figure that lay beneath him, mostly obscured
by his six-foot-four frame. I scanned every detail—from the way his short brown
hair was being mussed by her dainty fingers to the rumpled duvet
spread out underneath them as if they had been in such a hurry they hadn’t
bothered to draw back the bedding. The bulge of his triceps, flexed from the
restraint he used to hold himself above her as he moved with familiar sounds
of intimacy and pleasure. Sounds that I had believed were reserved only for me.
I had
never imagined another woman eliciting such a response from him. I felt as if
someone had ripped open my heart and snared every private moment that I had
shared with my husband, dangling it in front of me like a carrot, mocking me. Look what I have. I stood
motionless, trying to process the harrowing scene before me. My eyes moved from
Ryan’s naked body to the incredulous open-mouthed expression that he wore when
he finally turned to find me standing in our bedroom doorway. It was as
if—until that very moment—he had forgotten me. His wife.
Teaser Time!
Meet L.D. Cedergreen
L.D. Cedergreen has always enjoyed writing. It
started as short stories, and later developed into poetry–some of which has
been published–and then her first full-length novel, Ripple. She’s a vivid day
dreamer, a passionate reader, and a fan of all music.
L.D. Cedergreen
is a small town girl at heart. Originally from Washington State, she now
resides in Southern California with her husband and two little ones. As much as
she would like to call herself a beach girl, she is–without a doubt– grounded
by her small town roots.
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