Can’t even remember how he ended up naked on her beach. @eileendreyer #romance

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He can’t even remember how he ended up naked on Genevieve’s beach.


Wounded Heroes Collection

Author: Eileen Dreyer

Genre/Keyword(s): Romance, Action, Contemporary, Time Travel, Thriller, Mystery



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Genevieve Mallory can’t sleep. As odd as it sounds, she thinks her beach house might be haunted. She’s hearing odd sounds and having odder dreams. Then she finds a naked man unconscious on the beach, and her world gets much more frightening.

He can’t even remember how he ended up naked on Genevieve’s beach. He can’t even remember where he’s from or who he is, except that his name is Jake and he’s come to save Genevieve. Is it true, or will he jeopardize not only her heart but her life? 


As always, the dream began in hell.

She heard it first, smelled it, saw it. A long, large building with worn wooden floors. An old warehouse, maybe, with high, grimy windows and bare white walls. Nothing to dull the echoes, no shield to hide the sights.

But Gen didn’t really notice them. Not the rows and rows of cots swathed in mosquito netting, not the sighs and whimpers and cries of the men stretched out there, lined up on the floor, staining the old wood with their blood. Not the stench of death that permeated the very walls until it couldn’t be scrubbed clean. She didn’t take the time to stop for them, this once, even though her apron was stained and torn from her efforts. She lifted a hand to brush damp hair out of her eyes and hurried on.

Looking. Desperately searching before it was too late.

“Rafe,” she muttered to herself again and again as she looked into each soldier’s gaunt face and then ran on. A plea, a prayer. “Rafe, please be here.”

Genevieve O’Shea Carson Mallory knew nothing about the Civil War. But the Genevieve in this dream knew that she was in Richmond. She knew it was 1864 and Lee and Grant had been fighting over a stretch of woods that began at the Wilderness and marched inexorably her way. She’d seen the bodies, the horrific wounds suffered there, heard the unbelievable stories of dead carpeting the beautiful woods along the way. She knew that the South, her South, would soon die. But right now, she didn’t care.

“Rafe, my God, please...”

Her eyes filled with tears. Her hands clutched the full skirts of her dress, and she ran on, her heels clattering, her heart stumbling with dread certainty. She knew he was here. She was terrified she wouldn’t find him in time.

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