I stayed away.
Even though it crushed me.
Because that’s what he wanted.
I distanced myself from the man I love.
I moved on, or so I told the world.
Went through the motions, and smiled when I wanted to cry.
Then chaos flashes into my life, destroying everything in its path.
It’s time to face facts.
Lincoln Hayes is the only one I trust.
The only one who keeps the nightmares at bay.
I love her.
Thoughts of her came with every bullet that flew past my head overseas.
Every night, I dream about her and what we could have had.
She’s the only reason I came home.
The reason I stay, even though the very sight of her is torture.
After my brother died in my arms, everything changed.
I’m damaged. Broken.
She deserves so much more than I could ever be.
I’ll forever want the life I can never have.
That doesn’t mean that I won’t watch her six.
Boots on the ground, active and ready.
I’ll take out any threat she faces.
No matter the cost… because I’m not strong enough to lose her again.
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Boots on the Ground is a story about loss and love.
Kennedy and Lincoln have loved each other since they were kids. They promised they would get married after Lincoln got out of the service. Then Lincoln lost his brother and he shut Kennedy out. Kennedy tried to move on with another man, but he turned out to hurt her almost as badly as Lincoln had.
Boots on the Ground was an interesting story, but it was one I felt nothing for. It wasn't one I couldn't not put down or anything like that. It was one I read and the immediately forgot.
Lincoln is suffering from PTSD and I'm glad this story didn't say that with the power of love he got over his trauma or anything like that. He realized he would also struggle but that he would rather struggle with Kennedy than without her.
I think there were a lot of missing pieces to this story from previous books or alternate series and that also made this story difficult to read through.
Meet April Canavan
First of all, I absolutely abhor writing anything biographical. In any form. I’m terrible at it, and I have the very firm belief that no one wants to know who I am. You’re here for books, right? But that doesn’t mean I’m off the hook.
I grew up sneaking over to my great-grandmother’s to read her Harlequin novels. Those were delivered once a month in a ginormous box, and from the age of ten, she let me devour them in their entirety. I fell in love with romance, even the clean kind. And that, undoubtedly, led to many days and nights with my face buried in a book and the discovery that I wasn’t happy unless my hair was up, and I had a story in my hand.
I never wanted to write. I wanted to read. ALL the words. Until someone pointed out to me that I’d been writing my entire life. I just needed to put the book in my hand down and pick up a pen.
Once I started, I found out that I couldn’t stop. Now, I’m always writing. Or reading. Or chasing my son through the house to get the elusive hug he thinks I don’t need.
Oh, and I’m a Leo… which is completely on-point if you know me at all. I love being the center of attention. On my terms. When I can stay at home in my pajamas. With lots and lots of coffee on hand. And maybe a few snacks.
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