MILES (PAPERBACK)

Miles Martinez pulled up outside a charming, white clapboard house in a quiet suburb in Twilight Falls. Warm lights brightened the multi-pane, sash windows, their glow complementing the festive decorations adorning the facade and porch, and strung prettily on the bushes and moss-draped oak trees framing the property.

It was almost Christmas.

Miles turned into the drive and parked between a pickup and a Jeep. A wave of melancholy danced through him when he stepped outside and studied the Batistas’ home.

He used to come here every Wednesday night, before the accident. Despite the Terrible Seven’s reputation, Helen Batista had loved nothing more than cooking meals for her son Wyatt’s friends. They had been renowned troublemakers since childhood, tales of their misdeeds spreading far beyond the town where they had grown up.

A wry smile stretched Miles’s lips.

Old man Coulton must be glad we’re all grown up.

Gary Coulton had been the sheriff when the Terrible Seven begun earning their unsavory prestige. Miles had heard he would soon be retiring. As for Wyatt’s parents, they had moved to Utah several years ago.

It was just several of the changes Miles had woken up to when he’d emerged from his twelve-year-long coma two months ago.

So much happened while I was sleeping.

His chest tightened. He took a deep breath and squashed the dismal feelings threatening to overwhelm him. He couldn’t let his mood ruin poker night.

The front door opened as he headed up the porch steps.

A pretty brunette with green eyes appeared.

Izzy Batista, Wyatt’s younger sister and the unofficial eighth member of the Terrible Seven, smiled at him warmly. “Hey.”

“Hi, Izzy.” Miles kissed her cheek and glanced at the pickup. “Wasn’t Tristan going to L.A. this week to visit James?”

“James came over.” Izzy made a face. “Which means there are currently four horny men in my kitchen wondering when dinner and poker is going to be over so they can rush home and have monkey sex.”

“I heard that,” a handsome man with dark hair and glasses snapped as he crossed the hall behind her. “And Nathan’s here, so that’s six horny guys under your rooftop.” The corners of his mouth lifted as he looked at Miles. “Hi, Miles.”

“Hi, James.”

James Lang was Tristan Hart’s fiancé. Not only was he the manager of Crazyknot, a world famous rock band that regularly sold out concerts wherever they played, he was also best friends with Roman Campbell, Crazyknot’s front man and the guy Drake Jackson had surrendered his closely guarded heart too.

Izzy studied Miles’s SUV. “You getting used to your new ride?”

Miles heard the unspoken question in her voice. He’d shocked his mother and his friends when he’d said he wished to drive again. They’d all assumed he would be too traumatized to want to get behind the wheel of a vehicle so soon after coming out of the coma.

Miles had to admit he’d not been too crazy about the idea at first either. But he was determined to pick up the pieces of his broken life. Gaining his independence had been the first step toward achieving that goal.

He’d been nervous as hell the first few times he’d gone out in Elaine Martinez’s Chevy. It was only because one of the Terrible Seven always insisted on being with him on the drive that he’d managed to overcome his fears and recover his confidence.

Miles smiled and finally answered Izzy’s question. “It’s like a riding a bike.”

She sniffed. “Yeah, well, they say that about sex too. Considering I haven’t had a date in over a year, I think I’m gonna forget how to do the boogie-woogie in the sack.”

Miles choke-laughed on his spit.

He’d forgotten how brazen Izzy was. Considering she’d firmly foisted herself in her brother’s circle of friends when they were still in middle school, he shouldn’t have been surprised by the woman she’d grown into.

Miles hoped the low light masked his reddening ears as they headed inside the house. He was willing to bet Izzy had a good deal more experience when it came to sex than he did.

A memory had him grinning.

“You still have that picture of Carter you took in the boy’s locker room in high school?”

Izzy flashed an evil smirk at him over her shoulder. “You mean the one with his naked behind on full display? You bet I do.”

Miles was still chuckling to himself when they entered the kitchen. His stomach twisted a little at the sight of Drake and Roman chatting as they made a potato salad.

Drake brightened when he saw Miles. “Hey.” He came over to hug him.

Miles stiffened slightly before relaxing in his hold. “Hi.”

For once, the smile he gave Drake and Roman was as genuine as the ones they offered him. It had been especially hard for him to accept that Drake was engaged and would soon marry Roman. But he couldn’t deny the truth before his eyes: the two men were clearly crazy about each other.

It’s just one more thing I’ll have to come to terms with.

Tristan waved a spatula at him where he was cooking steaks at the range. “Want a soda?”

“I’ll get it.” Miles took the drink out of the refrigerator. He looked around curiously. “Where’s Wyatt?”

“He was here a minute ago,” Izzy muttered.

“Ten bucks says he and Nathan are making out in the den,” James drawled where he handled the fryer.

Roman grinned.

Wyatt and Nathan Hardy returned looking suspiciously flushed just as Izzy took a tray of freshly baked bread out of the oven. The rest of the Terrible Seven turned up with their partners before she could tell her brother and his fiancé off.

The only one missing was Carter Wilson. The Hollywood movie star was on a shoot in Europe. His husband Elijah came with their adopted daughter Maisie instead.

“Is this really going to be Carter’s last movie?” Finn West asked curiously.

Elijah made a complicated expression as he cut Maisie’s meat. “Yeah. It was the last project he was contracted to do before the whole scandal with Mira broke out. He’ll be starting his role as an executive producer in the New Year.”

Izzy and the others had brought Miles up to speed with the major events he’d missed over the last twelve years so he knew about Carter and Mira Peters, the movie producer who’d disgraced herself after she’d attempted to blackmail Carter into resuming the affair they’d had at the start of his career.

Miles still found it hard to believe that the Carter Wilson he knew had become a world-renowned actor. To him, Carter would always be the cheeky boy with hazel eyes and a dazzling smile that almost always got him out of trouble.

Hunter Thomson stole a fry from Theo Miller’s plate. “I bet his legion of fans aren’t happy about that. Carter is ridiculously popular with guys and gals.” He pointed the thin strip of fried potato at Elijah. “You might get hate mail.”

Roman snorted. “Between Carter and La Petite Bouche Gourmande, I’d choose Elijah’s cakes any day.”

“Yeah, I think Elijah’s safe,” Alex Hancock-West drawled. “Besides, he’s just as stunning as Carter. I’m surprised Carter doesn’t get hate mail for having laid claim to California’s hottest pastry chef.”

Elijah flushed at their grins.

“I’m gonna marry Papa Elijah when I grow up,” Maisie said confidently.

“I thought you were planning on marrying your Uncle Miles,” Izzy reminded the little girl drily.

Miles blinked, nonplussed. “She is?”

“Yup.” Drake took a swig of his drink. “The kid made the declaration at your homecoming party, just before you got there.”

Maisie squirmed in her chair and bit her lip. She leaned closer to Elijah. “Can I marry you both?” she whispered.

Elijah’s mouth pressed to a trembling line as he pretended not to laugh. “I don’t think that’s going to be possible, sweetheart,” he said in a strangled voice.

Maisie’s face fell. She squinted at Miles.

“Wait for me, Uncle Miles.”

Miles bit the inside of his cheek hard as Elijah’s expression fell. Izzy and Roman’s shoulders quivered.

“Congratulations.” Tristan patted Elijah’s back. “Your daughter just dumped you.”

Theo sighed when Hunter swiped more fries from his plate. “You know, you’re acting like I don’t feed you.”

“Oh, you feed me well.” His fiancé chomped down on a fry, licked his fingers, and arched an eyebrow. “Why, last night you stuffed me so good I—”

Theo hastily clamped a hand over Hunter’s mouth. Izzy’s grin transformed into a scowl. Wyatt sighed. Finn hid a smile in his beer.

“Is Uncle Hunter being rude again?” Maisie asked curiously.

“You don’t know the half of it, kid,” Drake grunted.

“You should put a muzzle on him,” James told Theo.

Hunter’s eyes brightened with a wicked light. Theo groaned.

“I think you just awakened his inner beast,” Nathan chuckled.

The conversation soon shifted to Christmas plans.

Alex and Finn had invited all of them to their place. It was big enough to host a huge party and they had enough room to accommodate everyone for the night.

“Is Elaine going to be in Singapore for Christmas?” Izzy asked Miles.

“Yeah,” he replied lightly. “She’s not back until the New Year.”

It had taken a lot to persuade Elaine to go on a well-deserved holiday. In all the time Miles had been in a coma at the Sunrise Care Home, she’d stayed by his side and came to see him every day, just as Izzy and the Terrible Seven visited every week. Miles had spoken to his mother’s closest friends and finally convinced Elaine to go on a cruise with them.

“We’ll miss her at Christmas,” Alex said quietly. “But I’m glad she’s gone on that trip.”

Izzy and the rest of the Terrible Seven were all close to Elaine. She’d been a quasi-mother figure to them ever since she’d adopted the gang of misfits when they were kids.

Miles forced his face to stay relaxed.

The happy hours all of them had spent at his home felt like a lifetime ago. A lifetime he would never recover.

It wasn’t until they’d finished their game of poker, which James won by a landslide to a roar of groans and Tristan’s satisfied grin, that Miles took the opportunity to slip outside while his friends cleared the table and Wyatt and Nathan made coffee for everyone.

He settled on the porch swing and looked out over the twinkling lights in the distance. The Batistas’ home was on a low hill overlooking the valley that cradled Twilight Falls.

Miles’s shoulders slowly unknotted as he gazed blindly at the town where he’d grown up. A wave of guilt welled up inside him.

I’m such a loser.

TWILIGHT FALLS
Alex
Carter
Hunter
Wyatt
Drake
Tristan
Miles

Print books are printed individually to order and shipped through our independent printing partner, Bookvault UK and Bookvault US. Shipping rates, taxes if eligible, and delivery times will vary depending on your country, delivery address, and shipping method.

It usually takes a few days to print your order and then 3-5 days to ship in the UK, and 5-21 days to the US and elsewhere. You can track the shipping with the link in your order. 

Hardbacks, including bespoke editions, are currently being printed by Bookvault UK only. Please see shipping rates on the checkout page.