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    The Last Letter by Rebecca Yarros

    4.5

    Our Recommendation

    This was my first story by Rebecca, and she made me feel all these emotions during and after reading this romance. I’m still in a book hangover, and not afraid to admit I cried during a few parts of the story.
    I loved how Rebecca wove in the letters Ella and Beckett wrote to each other into the story, you fell in love with them a little bit more after reading their words. Poor Ella has lost almost all of her family and Beckett never had a family, except the men on his special ops team. They were a perfect match, creating a new family from family tragedy. Beckett was so sweet, always there to help Ella with whatever she needed, never pushing her for more than she could handle. It was a slow-burn romance in that they don’t really become a couple until the last quarter of the book. When reading their letters before that, you can see they fell in love with each other months ago but didn’t realize it.

    Where To Buy

    Shameless Recommendation

    This was my first story by Rebecca, and she made me feel all these emotions during and after reading this romance. I’m still in a book hangover, and not afraid to admit I cried during a few parts of the story.
    I loved how Rebecca wove in the letters Ella and Beckett wrote to each other into the story, you fell in love with them a little bit more after reading their words. Poor Ella has lost almost all of her family and Beckett never had a family, except the men on his special ops team. They were a perfect match, creating a new family from family tragedy. Beckett was so sweet, always there to help Ella with whatever she needed, never pushing her for more than she could handle. It was a slow-burn romance in that they don’t really become a couple until the last quarter of the book. When reading their letters before that, you can see they fell in love with each other months ago but didn’t realize it.

    Where To Buy

    About This Book

    Heat Rating

    Genre

    Series

    About Our Heat Ratings

    The hottest of the hot! Examples: BDSM, kink, dub-con
    Super hot; for adults only. Most modern romance falls in this heat level.
    A little bit of heat and not overly descriptive; usually fade-to-black.
    Light romance and fade-to-black. Example: Young Adult

    Publisher Synopsis

    via Amazon

    Beckett,

    If you’re reading this, well, you know the last-letter drill. You made it. I didn’t. Get off the guilt train, because I know if there was any chance you could have saved me, you would have.

    I need one thing from you: get out of the army and get to Telluride.

    My little sister Ella’s raising the twins alone. She’s too independent and won’t accept help easily, but she has lost our grandmother, our parents, and now me. It’s too much for anyone to endure. It’s not fair.

    And here’s the kicker: there’s something else you don’t know that’s tearing her family apart. She’s going to need help.

    So if I’m gone, that means I can’t be there for Ella. I can’t help them through this. But you can. So I’m begging you, as my best friend, go take care of my sister, my family.

    Please don’t make her go through it alone.

    Ryan

    ASIN: B07FCF2GYW
    ISBN: 1640635335

    Hot Quotes

    & More!

    Because somewhere between letter number one and letter number twenty-four, I'd fallen in love her. Fallen for her words, her strength, her insight and kindness, her grace under impossible circumstances, her love for her children, and her determination to stand on her own.
    Our bodies moved like we'd been making love together for years instead of moments, like he was the only man I'd been created for.
    Using my body the best I could, I surrounded her, imagining I was some kind of wall -- that I could keep away whatever heartache was coming for her.

    Excerpt:

    “Ella.” It was a plea to speak, to not speak. Hell, I didn’t know anymore.

    “You don’t see me like that. I totally get it.” She reached for the TV remote.

    “How exactly do I see you? Please, enlighten me.” I leaned forward, stealing the remote. She’d opened this box and had better well dish it.

    She huffed in annoyance. “You see me as a mom. As Colt and Maisie’s mom. And of course you do, because that’s what I am. A mom with two kids.”

    “Well, yeah,” I said. Her motherhood—that selfless devotion she had to her kids—was one of her most attractive attributes.

    She rolled her eyes with a little sigh, and the metaphorical light bulb went off in my head.

    “You don’t think I want you.”

    She shot me a look that confirmed my guess and blushed the same crimson of her couch. “You know, you’re right. It’s late.” She faked a yawn. “Suuuuuuper late.”

    “I want you.” Damn, it felt so good to say the words.

    “Yeah, okay.” She gave me a goofy look and a thumbs-up. “Please don’t make me feel any more idiotic than I do right now.”

    Yeah, enough of this bullshit.

    I pounced in one smooth motion, taking her back to the couch, sliding over her as I gathered her wrists in one hand above her head and settled between her open thighs.

    Home.

    “Holy shit, you move fast.” There was no fear or rejection in her eyes, just surprise.

    “Not in every arena,” I promised.

    Her lips parted.

    “Ella. I want you.”

    “Beckett…you don’t have to.”

    Yeah, that soft little sigh she did was going to be my undoing.

    I let go of her wrists, letting my fingers trail down her arm until I had one hand weaving my fingers into the hair at the base of her scalp and the other at the curve in her waist.

    “Feel this?” Then I slid forward, letting my dick stroke along the seam in her pajama pants hard enough for her to gasp at the contact. I couldn’t remember ever wanting to shred a piece of fabric so much in my life. “I’ve never wanted a woman as much as I want you.”

    I moved again, and her eyes slid shut as she let loose the sweetest moan.

    My dick throbbed, knowing everything I’d fantasized about for the better part of the last eight months was one decision away.

    “Beckett.” Her hands found my biceps, her nails digging in.

    “Don’t ever think that I don’t want you, because if things were different, I would have already been inside you. I would know exactly how you feel, and what you sound like, look like, when you come. I’ve thought about it at least a hundred different ways, and believe me, I’ve got a great imagination.”

    She rocked her hips against me, and I locked my jaw to keep from giving her exactly what her body was asking for. “Ella, you have to stop.”

    “Why?” she asked, her lips dangerously close to mine. “What do you mean if things were different?” Her eyes flew wide. “Is this because I have kids?”

    “What? No. Of course not. It’s because you’re Ryan’s little sister.” Before I could do any more damage, I got the hell off her and sat back on my side of the couch.

    “Because…I’m Ryan’s little sister,” she repeated, scooting so she sat upright, facing me. “And you think he’d, what? Haunt you?”

    Three things: The letter. The cancer. The lie.

    I repeated those in my head until I was certain I could look at her and not drag her back under me.

    “Beckett?”

    “When I was growing up, if I wanted something, I took it. Immediately. I had sex at fourteen with a girl in my foster home of the moment. I opened Christmas presents early if I was lucky enough to get one, and it was usually from my social worker or some charity.”

    “I don’t understand.” She wrapped her arms around her knees again.

    “I took it immediately because I knew if I didn’t, chances were I wouldn’t get it. It was a now-or-never kind of thing—there weren’t second chances.”

    “Okay.”

    “I can’t touch you, can’t talk about it, because I’m afraid I’ll act on it.”

    “And why does that matter if I want you to?”

    “Because I won’t get a second chance. And I’m crap with people, with relationships. I’ve never had one that lasted more than a month. Never loved a woman I’ve slept with. And chances are I’d do something to screw this up, because it’s not just my dick that wants you, Ella.”

    That O popped right back onto her face, and I closed my eyes to keep from lunging across the distance and kissing her. Knowing she’d let me—that she wanted it—sent my need from a bullet to a nuclear missile.

    “And when I’d screw it up, because it would happen, trust me, it would hurt Colt and Maisie, too. You’d be on your own again, because there’s no chance you’d let me hang around and help you out like Ryan asked.”

    “And there it is.”

    “There it is. You’re Ryan’s little sister.”

    “There were only five years between us. Not so little, you know.” She reached for the remote.

    “I’m well aware.”

    “So if Ryan were still alive…” She shot one last look at me.

    I let everything slip for a millisecond, letting her see it all in my eyes, how badly I wanted her, and not just for her body. “Everything would be different.”

    “Everything?”

    “Everything but the way I feel about you, which he probably would have killed me for. Where does that leave us?”

    “You mean besides me being a dried-up spinster and you being honor-bound to a ghost?”

    “Something like that.”

    She rolled her head along the back of the couch, muttering something that sounded like a curse word under her breath. Then she sat up straight and powered on the TV with a click of her thumb. “That leaves us choosing a movie on demand. Because I’m not letting you walk out that door right now.”

    “You’re not?”

    “Nope. You walk out now, you might get all weird about this and not come back. Honor is a fabulous thing, but sometimes pride can be a lot stronger, especially when you convince yourself it’s for the good of the other person.”

    Damn, the woman knew me.

    “So movie it is,” I agreed. “Just…stay on your side of the couch.”

    “I wasn’t the one who crossed the center line,” she teased with a smile that got me hard all over again.

    Movie chosen, we sat and watched, both of us stealing sideways glances. There was that saying…the horse out of the barn. Yeah, the horse was out of the barn, and it wasn’t going back in. Not no way. Not no how.

    That horse was running amok and screwing with my carefully constructed control.

    But I didn’t complain when she moved over. Or when she pressed against my side. Nope. I lifted my arm and savored the feel of her curves, her trust. Still didn’t complain when she lay down in my arms. Hell no, I held on and memorized every second.


    About Rebecca Yarros:

    Rebecca Yarros is a hopeless romantic and a lover of all things coffee, chocolate, and Paleo. She is the author of the Flight & Glory series, including Full Measures, the award-winning Eyes Turned Skyward, Beyond What is Given, and Hallowed Ground. She loves military heroes, and has been blissfully married to hers for sixteen years.

    When she’s not writing, she’s tying hockey skates for her four sons, sneaking in some guitar time, or watching brat-pack movies with her two daughters. She lives in Colorado with the hottest Apache pilot ever, their rambunctious gaggle of kids, an English bulldog who is more stubborn than sweet, and a bunny named General Fluffy Pants who torments the aforementioned bulldog. Having adopted their youngest daughter from the foster system, and Rebecca is passionate about helping others do the same.

    The Last Letter by Rebecca Yarros

    4.5
    OUT OF 5 STARS

    My first foray into the Romance genre came my freshman year in high school English, where the teacher had us all read books from several different genres. So, my first book boyfriend and PnR introduction, if you will, was Richard Merlin, from The Wizard of Seattle. Prior to that, I’d only read Fantasy or Sci-fi, with a little teen horror thrown in for angst. I was reading The Vampire Diaries decades before it was even a twinkle in the eyes of the producers. Now, I am addicted to PnR, always reading at least one book a week about vamps, wolves, angels, demons, Fae, or overall magic.

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