Bookeverlasting Blog – “Age of Ava by Melanie Moreland is an EPIC read that will join the ranks of the BIBLIO-ARISTOCRACY!!!”
Goodreads Review – “This was an entertaining, emotional read, from the first chapter to the last I was drawn into the story that Ms. Moreland wove and had a hard time putting it down when real life got in the way.”
Goodreads Review – “I loved everything about Age of Ava, I was intrigued by the blurb and I fell hook, line and sinker for Ava and Hunter.”
Carol’s Review – “The chemistry between Ava and Hunter was electric.”
Ava CallaghanA woman working in a male-dominated field.
Organized, strong, and tenacious.
That’s how she has to be to succeed.
Hunter Owens
A loner.
He needs no one, has no ties, and his future is an unanswered question mark.
It’s all he knows.
Until the day their lives intersect.
He sees the woman she hides from the world.
She nurtures the part of him he lost long ago.
But they both agree—their connection is temporary.
They are only for now.
Can their stubborn natures allow them to bend and accept that maybe, just maybe, there is more to life than they believed?
That love can heal.
That happiness can exist.
That for now can be forever.
As we got to the top of the bluff, the dog raced ahead of me, wagging his tail. I stood for a moment to catch my breath, and he stopped, as if waiting. I cocked my head to the side, studying the large black truck in front of me. It was familiar. My stomach clenched as I moved toward it, recalling why it was familiar.
Intense fire-and-ice eyes came to my mind. Strong arms and a wicked, passionate mouth that was possessive and gentle poked at my memories.
I rounded the back of the truck and stopped, the dog sitting down beside me.
There he was.
Hunter.
He didn’t see me at first. I didn’t interrupt him.
He was too busy dancing. I was too busy staring.
His jeans hugged his ass. His T-shirt was stretched tight across his back and arms. His hair glinted in the sunlight.
And his hips moved. Gyrated. His torso bent and swayed. His arms rose and fell with the beat of the music. He sang, his voice rich and deep, his feet and body keeping perfect rhythm with the song. He spun on his heels and froze. Our eyes locked and held.
And, unexpectedly, he smiled. Wide and carefree. He held out his hand.
“Dance with me, Little Dragon.”
I found myself taking his hand. Joining him under the sun. Letting him lead me, spin me around, pull me to his hot, sunbaked chest as we moved. He crooned in my ear, making me laugh. He joined me, the sound of our shared amusement fading away as the song ended and we broke apart. Slowly, carefully, as if neither of us wanted this moment to end.
