Once Pure
Shattered Past # 3
By: Cecy Robson
Releasing May 19, 2015
Loveswept
First I Loved This Book, and it is a must read. That said Cecy Robson took
a subject that is a touchy one for me. Rape is hard to come back from and She
handles the subject well. that being said, I will not say Poor Sofia. That is wrong
Sofia is a survivor and needs to be treated as such. ever since that horrible day
she was raped she struggled to survive. But with help from her best friend she
finally beats it. Killian Feels responsible for what happened to her. but it was only
that sick bastard that did it to her. Yes he could have been their to stop it and
feels guilty it may have happened some other way. The main thig is he is there
now to help her heal and man What a lovely love story ths turns out being. Just
have the tissues handy. this one is a roller caster and Cecy put her heart in this
book. I know she did as you feel it through the book.
And a note if you or someone you knows needs help.
the best place is centers.rainn.org
I hope no one needs it but if you do they can help.
I hope you enjoy this
book as Much as I did.
If you do like this
book, please consider leaving a review.
The Authors really
like it when you do, they value your opinions too.
She bears the scars of the past. He blames
himself for things he can’t control. Their
defenses are up, but in Cecy Robson’s latest
Shattered Past novel—perfect for fans of Monica
Murphy and J. Lynn—true love lands a knockout punch.
Sofia Tres Santos remembers a time before her life went
sour, before her innocence was ripped away, before she
began punishing herself with risky behaviors and
unworthy men. Now, at twenty, she just hopes she’s
ready to rebuild some of what she lost. One way or
another, it always comes back to her childhood friend
and longtime crush, Killian O’Brien.
As strong as Killian is, Sofia has always been his one
weakness. He knows Sofia has suffered and wants to
ensure she’s never hurt again—not like before, and
definitely not under his watch. When Sofia agrees to
work at his mixed martial arts gym, Killian seizes the
opportunity to help and protect the sweet girl he’s
always cared for. And yet, as he trains Sofia to defend
herself using his hard-hitting MMA techniques, he’s
drawn to the vulnerable beauty in ways he never expected.
As Sofia grows stronger, she also grows brave enough
to open herself up to love. And along the way, she
challenges everything Killian believes to be true,
showing him that no matter how much he dominates in
the ring, the real battle is fought in the heart.
Shattered Past # 3
First I Loved This Book, and it is a must read. That said Cecy Robson took
a subject that is a touchy one for me. Rape is hard to come back from and She
handles the subject well. that being said, I will not say Poor Sofia. That is wrong
Sofia is a survivor and needs to be treated as such. ever since that horrible day
she was raped she struggled to survive. But with help from her best friend she
finally beats it. Killian Feels responsible for what happened to her. but it was only
that sick bastard that did it to her. Yes he could have been their to stop it and
feels guilty it may have happened some other way. The main thig is he is there
now to help her heal and man What a lovely love story ths turns out being. Just
have the tissues handy. this one is a roller caster and Cecy put her heart in this
book. I know she did as you feel it through the book.
And a note if you or someone you knows needs help.
the best place is centers.rainn.org
I hope no one needs it but if you do they can help.
I hope you enjoy this
book as Much as I did.
If you do like this
book, please consider leaving a review.
The Authors really
like it when you do, they value your opinions too.
himself for things he can’t control. Their
defenses are up, but in Cecy Robson’s latest
Shattered Past novel—perfect for fans of Monica
Murphy and J. Lynn—true love lands a knockout punch.
sour, before her innocence was ripped away, before she
began punishing herself with risky behaviors and
unworthy men. Now, at twenty, she just hopes she’s
ready to rebuild some of what she lost. One way or
another, it always comes back to her childhood friend
and longtime crush, Killian O’Brien.
weakness. He knows Sofia has suffered and wants to
ensure she’s never hurt again—not like before, and
definitely not under his watch. When Sofia agrees to
work at his mixed martial arts gym, Killian seizes the
opportunity to help and protect the sweet girl he’s
always cared for. And yet, as he trains Sofia to defend
herself using his hard-hitting MMA techniques, he’s
drawn to the vulnerable beauty in ways he never expected.
to open herself up to love. And along the way, she
challenges everything Killian believes to be true,
showing him that no matter how much he dominates in
the ring, the real battle is fought in the heart.
The steady pummeling of fists against the speed bag
continued as if the body
slams and swears weren’t bouncing off every wall of
the MMA gym. Every strike,
every blow, promised pain and demanded respect. I
tried not to react to each loud
smack, or cower from supersized bodies dripping
with sweat, but it was hard.
Controlled chaos was the best way to describe the
scene unraveling before me.
And no one owned it like Killian O’Brien.
I slipped my fingers into the computer bag hooked to my
shoulder, pretending to
fumble with the files tucked against my laptop, while
totally checking out
Killian behind the safety of my sunglasses.
His broad and muscular back was to me, but that was okay. I
liked the way his
Celtic cross tat crawled down the length of his spine and
spread across his
shoulder blades. I liked the way his wavy jet-black hair
tickled the base of his
skull. I liked the way—okay, who was I kidding? I liked
everything about him.
I had since I was seven, when he and his large Catholic
family moved into the
row home across from ours.
Killian hadn’t noticed me. He was busy kicking what remained
of a heavy bag,
showing the younger MMA brawlers how it was done. At six feet
five,
and fighting at super heavyweight status, Killian shouldn’t have been so
flexible.
But he was. Dear Lord, he so was.
His foot skimmed the top of the bag with each brutal thump,
causing the chain
holding it to rattle and jolt with hard shakes. Killian was
best known for his
kicks. If he caught his opponent in the face with his foot,
the poor guy was done,
and so was what remained of his face.
“Hey, Sofia!”
I jumped when the youngest O’Brien approached. “Oh. Hi,
Finn.”
The dimple on his right cheek deepened when he grinned. He
motioned to my nylon
computer bag. “You ready to work?”
“Oh, yeah. Ready to go.” I patted the bag like a total
loser, then rather
awkwardly let my hand fall to my side. In an attempt to
regain some sense of
grace, I slipped my sunglasses to the top of my head, pushing
the strands of
my long, bouncy curls behind my ears.
Finn’s grin widened. He likely sensed my nervousness. His
toothy smile made him
appear younger than his nineteen years, but it was sweet
enough to soothe the
tension my first day back had caused. I liked Finn, I
always had. He was smaller
than his brothers, but just as tough, working his
way up the MMA ranks as a welterweight.
He slapped his gloved hands together, full of energy as
usual. God, it seemed, had
dumped all the O’Brien muscle onto Killian’s
heavy-duty frame. God was funny
that way. That didn’t mean Finn wouldn’t take
on a guy twice his size.
Finn was funny that way.
He scratched the top of his curly ginger hair. “Killian know
you’re here?”
“Ah, no, but that’s okay. I can just head to his office and
start on his website—”
“Kill, Kill!” Finn cupped his mouth with his hands,
yelling at the top of his lungs.
“Your woman is here!” His attention cut to my
mortified face.
“You are his woman, right, Sofia?”
“Ah . . .”
Killian’s head jerked our way, along with most of the
behemoths training.
I wasn’t sure if he could see how red my face was from
where he stood, but the easy
smile spreading along his strong features told me
he could. He abandoned what
remained of the heavy bag and crossed the padded
floor as the rest of the fighters
resumed their free-for-alls.
I froze, watching him prowl forward like the mad beast he
was, his hulking and
densely tattooed arms swinging loosely against his sides.
It wouldn’t take him
long to reach us, despite the large expanse of the
converted warehouse, so I tried
to speak fast. “I’m not his woman, Finn.”
“So you’re just banging?”
“No!”
“But you want to.”
“Want to what?”
“Bang my brother like a pair of cymbals,” he said, like I
was the stupid one.
“Yes—no.” Oh, good heavens.
“Why not?”
“Finn!”
“He’s a good guy.”
“Finn, I’m not having this conversation with you.”
“Do you want to have it with Kill instead?”
“Have what with me?” Killian’s deep voice rumbled like
thunder as he stopped just in front of me.
Dear. Lord.
It had been a few weeks since I’d last seen him. Dark
stubble grazed his chin,
forming a mini-goatee and emphasizing the angles of
his square jaw. But his face
didn’t hold my attention for long. My stare
traveled down his body, taking in his
light skin glistening with sweat . . .
before I remembered that my sunglasses now
rested on the top of my head and I
was blatantly gawking at him.
“Like what you see?” he asked, playfully.
“I . . .” The urge to bolt had me shifting my weight, hard
enough to slap the hem
of my long white skirt against my bare legs. But I
stayed put, trying not to faint
from his scorching level of badassness and
working to form a decent response.
“I was just admiring your sweat.”
So much for a decent response. He stopped smiling.
“My sweat?”
I punched him in the arm, because, yeah, I was just that
lame.
“Totally. You must have had quite the workout, huh, asskicker?”
Finn grimaced as if it pained him to watch me go down in
flames. I was good with
computers. I couldn’t say the same about men. If the
fate of the world depended
on me successfully interacting with the male species
without stuttering, blushing,
or recoiling, the world would just end and we’d
all die some sick apocalyptic death.
Killian analyzed me closely like most would a bug they were
debating on
squashing, before his chest shook with laughter.
God, this is
Sofia. Please strike me dead.
Killian closed the distance between us,
the fingertips of
his large hand extending to tickle my chin.
“I was just getting started. Nice
to have a pretty girl appreciate my efforts.”
The steady pummeling of fists against the speed bag continued as if the body
slams and swears weren’t bouncing off every wall of the MMA gym. Every strike,
every blow, promised pain and demanded respect. I tried not to react to each loud
smack, or cower from supersized bodies dripping with sweat, but it was hard.
Controlled chaos was the best way to describe the scene unraveling before me.
And no one owned it like Killian O’Brien.
I slipped my fingers into the computer bag hooked to my shoulder, pretending to
fumble with the files tucked against my laptop, while totally checking out
Killian behind the safety of my sunglasses.
His broad and muscular back was to me, but that was okay. I liked the way his
Celtic cross tat crawled down the length of his spine and spread across his
shoulder blades. I liked the way his wavy jet-black hair tickled the base of his
skull. I liked the way—okay, who was I kidding? I liked everything about him.
I had since I was seven, when he and his large Catholic family moved into the
row home across from ours.
Killian hadn’t noticed me. He was busy kicking what remained of a heavy bag,
showing the younger MMA brawlers how it was done. At six feet five,
and fighting at super heavyweight status, Killian shouldn’t have been so flexible.
But he was. Dear Lord, he so was.
His foot skimmed the top of the bag with each brutal thump, causing the chain
holding it to rattle and jolt with hard shakes. Killian was best known for his
kicks. If he caught his opponent in the face with his foot, the poor guy was done,
and so was what remained of his face.
“Hey, Sofia!”
I jumped when the youngest O’Brien approached. “Oh. Hi, Finn.”
The dimple on his right cheek deepened when he grinned. He motioned to my nylon
computer bag. “You ready to work?”
“Oh, yeah. Ready to go.” I patted the bag like a total loser, then rather
awkwardly let my hand fall to my side. In an attempt to regain some sense of
grace, I slipped my sunglasses to the top of my head, pushing the strands of
my long, bouncy curls behind my ears.
Finn’s grin widened. He likely sensed my nervousness. His toothy smile made him
appear younger than his nineteen years, but it was sweet enough to soothe the
tension my first day back had caused. I liked Finn, I always had. He was smaller
than his brothers, but just as tough, working his way up the MMA ranks as a welterweight.
He slapped his gloved hands together, full of energy as usual. God, it seemed, had
dumped all the O’Brien muscle onto Killian’s heavy-duty frame. God was funny
that way. That didn’t mean Finn wouldn’t take on a guy twice his size.
Finn was funny that way.
He scratched the top of his curly ginger hair. “Killian know you’re here?”
“Ah, no, but that’s okay. I can just head to his office and start on his website—”
“Kill, Kill!” Finn cupped his mouth with his hands, yelling at the top of his lungs.
“Your woman is here!” His attention cut to my mortified face.
“You are his woman, right, Sofia?”
“Ah . . .”
Killian’s head jerked our way, along with most of the behemoths training.
I wasn’t sure if he could see how red my face was from where he stood, but the easy
smile spreading along his strong features told me he could. He abandoned what
remained of the heavy bag and crossed the padded floor as the rest of the fighters
resumed their free-for-alls.
I froze, watching him prowl forward like the mad beast he was, his hulking and
densely tattooed arms swinging loosely against his sides. It wouldn’t take him
long to reach us, despite the large expanse of the converted warehouse, so I tried
to speak fast. “I’m not his woman, Finn.”
“So you’re just banging?”
“No!”
“But you want to.”
“Want to what?”
“Bang my brother like a pair of cymbals,” he said, like I was the stupid one.
“Yes—no.” Oh, good heavens.
“Why not?”
“Finn!”
“He’s a good guy.”
“Finn, I’m not having this conversation with you.”
“Do you want to have it with Kill instead?”
“Have what with me?” Killian’s deep voice rumbled like thunder as he stopped just in front of me.
Dear. Lord.
It had been a few weeks since I’d last seen him. Dark stubble grazed his chin,
forming a mini-goatee and emphasizing the angles of his square jaw. But his face
didn’t hold my attention for long. My stare traveled down his body, taking in his
light skin glistening with sweat . . . before I remembered that my sunglasses now
rested on the top of my head and I was blatantly gawking at him.
“Like what you see?” he asked, playfully.
“I . . .” The urge to bolt had me shifting my weight, hard enough to slap the hem
of my long white skirt against my bare legs. But I stayed put, trying not to faint
from his scorching level of badassness and working to form a decent response.
“I was just admiring your sweat.”
So much for a decent response. He stopped smiling.
“My sweat?”
I punched him in the arm, because, yeah, I was just that lame.
“Totally. You must have had quite the workout, huh, asskicker?”
Finn grimaced as if it pained him to watch me go down in flames. I was good with
computers. I couldn’t say the same about men. If the fate of the world depended
on me successfully interacting with the male species without stuttering, blushing,
or recoiling, the world would just end and we’d all die some sick apocalyptic death.
Killian analyzed me closely like most would a bug they were debating on
squashing, before his chest shook with laughter.
God, this is Sofia. Please strike me dead.
Killian closed the distance between us,
the fingertips of his large hand extending to tickle my chin.
“I was just getting started. Nice to have a pretty girl appreciate my efforts.”
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~*~*~ Cecy Robson ~*~*~
Cecy Robson is the New Adult author of Once Perfect,
Once Loved, and Once Pure and the award-winning
author of the Weird Girls urban fantasy romance series.
A self-proclaimed professional napper, Cecy counts
among her talents a jaw-dropping knowledge of useless
trivia, the ability to make her hair big, and a knack for
breaking into song despite her family’s vehement
protests. A full-time writer, registered nurse, wife, and
mother living in the Great Northwest, Cecy enjoys
spending time with her family and silencing the yappy
characters in her head by telling their stories.
Want to make sure you do not miss my
post.
You can also follow me through my social
media Links or
Contact me By e-mail.
Kimmiesuesbookreview@gmail.com
Sign up for email of blog & or
Newsletter to the right
~*~*~ Cecy Robson ~*~*~
Cecy Robson is the New Adult author of Once Perfect,
Once Loved, and Once Pure and the award-winning
author of the Weird Girls urban fantasy romance series.
A self-proclaimed professional napper, Cecy counts
among her talents a jaw-dropping knowledge of useless
trivia, the ability to make her hair big, and a knack for
breaking into song despite her family’s vehement
protests. A full-time writer, registered nurse, wife, and
mother living in the Great Northwest, Cecy enjoys
spending time with her family and silencing the yappy
characters in her head by telling their stories.
Want to make sure you do not miss my
post.
You can also follow me through my social
media Links or
Contact me By e-mail.
Kimmiesuesbookreview@gmail.com
Sign up for email of blog & or
Newsletter to the right
