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Friday, March 27, 2020

I'll Be Watching You by Leslie A. Kelly
Genre - Romantic Suspense



About the Book -

She can trust him with her heart, but can she trust him with her life?

Growing up as a foster kid, Jessica Jensen found her escape in movies-especially those starring teen heartthrob Reece Winchester. When she meets him as an adult, he's just as charming, fascinating, and devastatingly handsome as she'd imagined. Before she knows it, Jessica is falling hard. But her real-life Cinderella story is about to take a deadly turn...

Jessica has completely upended everything about Reece's carefully ordered life. There's a reason he's never allowed anyone to get so close to him before. But now that she has, there's a target on her back. Because someone knows that the Winchesters have been hiding some dark family secrets. Someone who is out there waiting to strike. Waiting...and always watching.


About the Author -


Leslie A. Kelly is a New York Times, USA Today Bestselling Author of dark romantic thrillers and sexy romance (as Leslie Kelly).

Known for their dark, edgy plots, strong characters, intense action, and powerful worldbuilding, Leslie's romantic thrillers have won great acclaim, including the National Reader's Choice Award, the Aspen Gold Award, the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence, and a Romantic Times Magazine Award nomination. 

Leslie lives in Colorado with her husband of 34 years and two spoiled dogs. 





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Excerpt

As a film director, Reece Winchester was used to watching life through a camera lens, picturing angles, depth, color, and texture. He lived as a voyeur, removed from the action he oversaw, the unseen god of the worlds he created for moviegoers everywhere. Some people might see him as being aloof or uncaring. Hell, maybe he was. But he’d learned hard lessons throughout his life about trust, about grief, about tragedy and loss. Better to put a layer between yourself and the outside world, as far as he was concerned.

Maybe that’s why he was able to remain calm during this latest catastrophe. He only sighed as he stared at the charred remnants of his house, eying the wisps of smoke still rising from the ruin in the early morning light, was number one on that list.

“Damn, Reece, I’m so sorry,” said his brother Rowan, who’d been the one to call him at two a.m. to tell him about the fire. He’d repeated the phrase about a dozen times.

Reece had been shooting in the New Mexico desert, so his Beverly Hills home had been empty when it went up in flames last night. He’d spent most of the flight back being thankful he’d left his dog with his and had given the couple who looked after the place two weeks off. During other trips, he’d left Cecil B., his golden retriever, at home with the Scotts. He didn’t even want to think about what could have happened if they’d been there. Shit could be replaced. Lives could not. The loss of a couple of statues of a guy named Oscar was nothing compared to the singeing of one hair on the heads of his employees or his dog.

“Any idea yet what started it?” he bit out.
“I talked to the fire investigator. He already found accelerant.”
Accelerant. Arson? Jesus.
“Somebody hates me enough to burn down my house?” Reece murmured, a little more stunned by that fact than by the fire itself.
“It could have been a frustrated stalker who expected to find you at home.”
“And when I wasn’t, they decided to make sure I didn’t have a home to come back to?”
“You know it’s possible.”

Yes, it probably was. He’d had overzealous fans before, mostly during his acting days. They occasionally slipped from pushy into obsessive. He’d been dealing with a particularly bad one lately, who’d found out where he lived and had been leaving notes stuffed into the security gate. Perhaps that was who had gotten past the fence last night and decided to send his home up in a giant ball of flame that had, reportedly, been seen by people miles away.

“Do you ever wonder if we’re damned?” he asked.
He’d had this thought many times over the years but had never shared it with his twin.
“Don’t say that.”
He didn’t push, knowing Rowan had done a better job moving beyond all the dark episodes of the past. Reece, though, had found letting that go extremely difficult to do.
“You know you can stay with me for a while. At least until you find another place,” Rowan offered.

Reece nodded. “Dad has a spare room, too.”
Reece, his twin Rowan, and their baby brother, Raine, had bought their hardworking father, who’d supported them all his life, a big place on the beach a few months ago. His dad would hate to hear about the fire but would probably love some company.

Reece watched silently as firefighters walked the site. They carefully looked for any sputtering embers trying to reignite. With the drought, they also had to be sure no sparks landed on a nearby roof, spreading the conflagration to the entire neighborhood.

“Why don’t we get outta here?” Rowan asked. “You’ve given your statement. You don’t have to stay. Want some breakfast? We can pick up Cecil B. and take him out for pancakes.”

Seeing his dog sounded like a great idea to Reece. “Sure.” He was hungry, as, he suspected, were the sweaty, exhausted firefighters. He’d already put in an order for cold drinks and food for the guys who’d tried so hard to rescue his six-thousand-square-foot house.

Just a house. Just a building. Right.
Frankly, the worst part wasn’t the fire, but the realization that someone had set it. He was in somebody’s crosshairs. The knowledge unsettled him.

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