Soul mates always find each other . . .
For twenty-four years, Claire Neeson has been invisible. Ever the nerdy type, boys never spared her a second glance, and the one time one did, she ended up bruised and heartbroken.
After the last member of her family leaves her, she hopes a new life in Galway with her former college roommate might be the fresh start she needs. Falling in love isn’t her plan, especially now that she’s busy building a new life for herself.
That’s when she meets him.
David O’Hagan is haunted by nightmares. After losing his older brother in a car accident more than a year ago, he has been trying to go back to his old life, hiding his grief behind a mask nobody can see through. He thinks he’s getting by just fine. He thinks he’s happy with his life, his job, and his girlfriend.
That’s when he meets her.
When their worlds collide, David and Claire feel something spark but one minute is all they have before they go their separate ways. They never expected to meet again after that serendipitous encounter, but fate has its own plan . . .
Sometimes true love can heal the deepest scars. If you believe.
***Saved By An Angel is book 2 in the Angel series. It can be read as a standalone or after reading Hugged By An Angel.***
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About the Author:
An avid reader since her childhood years and being an only child, Roberta always enjoyed the company of her fictional friends from the children’s books she loved reading, while she dreamed of writing her own stories one day.
It was when she discovered novels by authors Rosamunde Pilcher and Maeve Binchy in her teenage years that she realized it was time she put down in words the stories she had kept well hidden in her mind until then.
What started as a hobby, soon turned into a real passion and a way of life, until she could no longer keep the stories to herself, and decided to get over her fears and share them with the world.
Roberta lives in Italy, but her dream is to move out of her country and live either in a thatched cottage in the Irish countryside or in a country house with a swing on the back porch, somewhere in the United States, where she would love to spend her days writing novels as a full-time job, and maybe one day even get as far as writing a screenplay for a movie.
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We reached our house minutes later, and as I opened the door Robbie came barking down the corridor.
“I hope you’re not afraid of dogs.” I’d forgotten to mention Robbie while we were walking home, but I doubted a grown man could be afraid of a tiny little thing like Robbie.
“That looks more like one of those battery-operated toys for kids.”
I laughed, and he picked up Robbie from the floor, earning a lick on his cheek. “Thanks, buddy. I really needed some love.”
“Take a seat in the living room. I’ll be right back.”
When I walked back with antiseptic wipes, Band-Aids and a bag of frozen peas, he was sitting on the couch, Robbie sprawled on his lap as David scratched his belly.
“Apparently we don’t have an ice bag,” I said, as I handed him the bag of frozen peas. The bleeding had stopped but he was now sporting a shiner which would surely look a lot worse in the morning.
David smiled as he took the bag, placed it on his left eye and winced. Robbie whined almost empathically, which under other circumstances would have made me laugh. Seeing David’s discomfort now only made me feel guilty for being the cause of it.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, as I sat next to him on the couch, careful to leave enough distance between us so that no limbs were touching, but still close enough to dress his wound. “I don’t know how I can apologize for what happened.”
He shrugged. “It’s not you who punched me.”
“I know but . . . it’s my fault that you got punched in the first place, and I’m really, truly sorry.”
He gave me a crooked smile that made my legs turn to jelly. Good thing I was already seated or I would’ve made a fool of myself, crumbling to the floor. I concentrated on cleaning the cut with the antiseptic wipe, careful not to lock eyes with him.
“It’s not your fault, Claire. The guy’s a gobshite and I couldn’t stand to see him hurting you. When he said those things, I just . . . I lost it completely.”
He flexed his fingers, and I saw him trying to hide a wince but failing miserably. I hated to see him in pain, knowing it was because of me. As he removed the packet of peas from his eye for a moment and placed it on his hand, I could see the skin above his cheekbone had already started turning purple.
“You’re going to have a black eye.” I felt so awful I wanted to fling myself at him and cry in his arms. The thought made me want to slap myself; after what I’d been through tonight I should feel shaken and scared of all men in general, but all I could think of was how much I wanted David to hold me. Seeing him stand up for me, when nobody ever had, only made me like him more. I was walking in a minefield, and sooner or later a bomb would blast right in my face, I was sure.
David shrugged, then gave me a cheeky grin. “My students are going to think I’m cool. I’ll be the cool, kickass professor.”
I laughed, as I placed the Band-Aid on the cut. “I doubt your colleagues will share the feeling. They’ll think you’re a troublemaker.”
He shrugged again, and stared at me. “I look cool, though, don’t I? The bad-boy kind of cool, like Johnny Depp.”
He quirked an eyebrow, and I wanted to melt right there. He was way more handsome than Johnny Depp, Brad Pitt and Hugh Jackman put together, but I obviously couldn’t say that. After all the bad memories that had come back to kick my butt tonight, how could I still have fantasies over a man? A man who had a girlfriend, for heaven’s sake—a girlfriend who’d probably dig my eyes out with her perfectly manicured nails when she found out why he had a black eye.
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