No Good Without You: A Sparrow Texas Romance by @EmmaAmes11 is a Super Reads pick #romance #giveaway

Title: No Good Without You: A Sparrow, Texas Romance

Author: Emma Ames

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Book Blurb:

A small-town girl rising to fame.

Swan Malone never imagined leaving Sparrow, Texas, but when her college cheerleading gig leads to fame, and her first film becomes the top-grossing movie of the year, she realizes dreams really do come true. However, not everything in her life is as good as a fairytale.

A soldier barely hanging on.

Nothing could have prepared Army Sergeant Teague Shanahan for what he endured while held hostage in enemy hands. Battered and scarred, he returns home hoping to put his life back together but finds he’s still a prisoner of his past—too broken to be fixed, even by the woman he loves.

Welcome to Bluebird, Texas

Where a girl with stars in her eyes fights to save a man with demons in his soul.

Excerpt:

Sprawled across his cot, Teague Shanahan watched Carlotta mend her web in the upper corner of his hut. The loneliness of solitary confinement forced him to entertain himself in creative ways. The mental gymnastics helped him hang onto his sanity, what little remained.

He was clueless about his location. Afghanistan? Pakistan? Iran? The last snatch-and-grab mission sent his platoon to the scariest little corner of the world, where the three borders met.

After months of planning, long days and nights of surveillance, things had gone sideways. Unable to remember much, he racked his brain for details. He only recalled the night of his capture, when the blast knocked him unconscious. No way to tell how many days had passed. When he came to, he was here. In an ill-constructed hut, with a cot, a bucket, a door, and a pair of windows too high and small for any chance of escape.

In the short time he spent outside, he’d seen three other prisoners, but they were so far away, he couldn’t make out any distinguishing characteristics. Like him, they appeared well-fed, even if the food wasn’t much better than slop. The captors needed their prey healthy for their favorite psychological game of hide-and-seek. Bind his hands and give him a thirty-minute head start. With nothing but desert sands and his bum leg, tracking was a cinch. No place to hide. Once captured, a beating followed.

His kidnappers lacked ingenuity.

He sat upright, swung one foot to the floor, eased his injured leg over the side, and buried his face in his hands. The snap and crack of leather haunted his sleep. Without a mirror, he had no way to see the crisscrossing wounds on his back.

The foul stench of breakfast burning assaulted his nose. Same thing every day. Greasy bread with overboiled curry and chickpeas. A heap of plain rice for lunch, and more mushy peas with a dash of pepper for supper. At first, the constant diet of lard and spices brought on a serious case of the runs, but eventually, his body adjusted.

He moved to the thin ray of light seeping into the room. Lifting his shirt, he checked the bruising on his stomach and ribs. Fading some. Whoever the hell these people were, would soon come again. They weren’t soldiers. No uniforms. No apparent order of rank. They appeared to be local villagers with weapons confiscated from hostages.

There had been no questioning, not that it’d be fruitful. He didn’t speak their language. No interrogation was a bad omen. If they had no military interest, where would this end? Worst case scenario, they’d tire of the game, kill the captives, and toss the bodies in the desert to rot.

Hopefully, the Army would send a rescue team before that happened. Or would they? If he was right, and these guerrillas weren’t politically motivated, would special forces even know where to look? If all three countries denied accountability and pointed the finger at one another—the thought stopped him. What if this country’s government was unaware these sandbillies kept prisoners?

He stumbled back to the bed and collapsed onto it. Bone-tired, head throbbing, and his back on fire, he tried to stay positive. With drones and satellites, they’d find him soon. But what if—it always came back to if—the biggest word in his vocabulary. If he’d only had time to activate his beacon, he’d already been out of here. But if they were homespun terrorists or guerrillas having made no demands, then what? Finding him and the others would be like searching for diamonds in the desert. Over 300,000 square miles.

What he’d give for one night of good sleep. Impossible in this place. He never knew when his door would fly open so they could drag him outside to play again.

He shook the dread away. If he concentrated hard, shut out everything else, he could almost smell Swan’s perfume. Taste her lips. Hear her repeat his name in that breathy, soft whisper he loved so much. He missed her. If he ever escaped this hellhole, she would be waiting just like she promised, and he’d take her in his arms and never let go.

Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub):

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07X1ZWDD5

Find out more about Emma here: https://www.anneverett.com/emma-ames-books/

Amazon author page: https://www.amazon.com/author/emmaames