"Filled with mystery, suspense, love, and tragedy, this novel from Cole... is hard to put down. Between the sexual tension and the eventual sexual explosions, the story has its fill of steamy scenes." - Library Journal Xpress Reviews

All things, when placed under pressure, eventually break or leave a mark.

Tattoo artist Brody "Cujo" Matthews knows how to keep things simple. In life and in love. Abandoned as a child by a mother who refused to stick around to raise three boys she didn't want, he's intent on staying clear of complicated women. The only things complicated in Cujo’s life are the killer tattoos he designs and inks. That all changes when he’s asked to help organize his best friend Trent's engagement party, which means working with Trent's fiancée's best friend, Drea, the definition of high maintenance and sizzling curves. And the one woman he doesn’t want to walk away from.

Andrea "Drea" Caron is broke and tired. After years of caring for her ailing mom, she's at the end of her rope trying to manage the piling medical bills, two jobs, and a life placed on hold. She certainly doesn’t need the added frustration of a sexy playboy tattoo artist messing up her best friend’s engagement party or her carefully balanced life. But when Drea witnesses the abduction of a woman from the café she works at, she can’t help but turn to Cujo who’s determined to prove to Drea that he’s someone she can count on forever…but as they attempt to bring the truth to light, someone is working to bring that forever to a sudden, deadly halt.


PRAISE FOR THE FRACTURED HEART

"Filled with mystery, suspense, love, and tragedy, this novel from Cole... is hard to put down. Between the sexual tension and the eventual sexual explosions, the story has its fill of steamy scenes." - Library Journal Xpress Reviews

"Words fail me for ones strong enough to describe how much I enjoyed it, so I'm going with, "Holy wowza! I loved it.". ;)" - Amber, Wild Heart Reviews

"Scarlett Cole is the hottest new talent in romantic suspense, and The Fractured Heart is even better than The Strongest Steel. I know, I know...I didn't think it possible either." - Laura Steven, Author

"Not only does she connect you to the characters, she makes it so that you're so invested in what happens to them. You are constantly yelling at them to stop being so ridiculous and see what is really in from of them! Amazing job Scarlett, I can't wait to see what you come up with next!!" - Michele - Devilishly Delicious Book Reviews

"I found The Fractured Heart to be just as amazing, if not better than the first in series. Once I started I was totally hooked and had an extremely difficult time putting it down." - Kahea, Goodreads

"Another heart pounding, sexy novel you can't put down. Cujo and Drea are awesome together!" - Pat, The Book Queen's Book Palace


EXCERPT

What the hell was that noise?

It sounded like the porch planter tumbling down the steps.

In total darkness, Drea Caron patted her rickety cane bedside table until she felt the smooth surface of her phone. Forcing one eye open, she turned it on and checked the clock. Four in the morning. Whoever had caused the awful noise, severing her tenuous connection to sleep, was going to die. Slowly, in a vat of hot tar.

Unless it was someone trying to break in, in which case the smart move was to dial 911 before barricading herself in the bathroom.

Muted curses and Miami’s muggy attempt at fall weather drifted in through the open bedroom window. Both equally suffocating.

The initial panic receded with recognition of the speaker’s angry tone.

Drea rubbed her hand across her forehead, blinking repeatedly, and pushed back the sheets. She slipped her feet into a pair of flip-flops and shuffled down the stairs, avoiding the loose threads of the worn carpet.

The living room, which housed a bed and an array of medical equipment, was empty. The oxygen pump hissed unpredictably. Short static bursts followed by long drawn-out gasps of oxygen so unlike the precise rhythm it usually maintained. The mask had been cast aside, the cables a mess on the floor.

Damn. Getting it repaired or replaced was more money than they could afford.

Drea yawned. The front door was ajar. Wisps of swirling white smoke drifted past the opening.

“Mom,” she cried, hurrying outside, “what are you doing?” Drea scrunched her nose, the smell of acrid smoke burning the back of her throat.

Rosa Caron waved her hand furiously in the air, a feeble attempt to hide the evidence.

“Mom, I see the smoke. You know what the doctors said. Where did you get the cigarettes from?”

“It’s none of your business.” Rosa took a long draw on the cigarette. “And I needed one.”

“No, you don’t.” Drea leaned over and grabbed the cigarette. She flung it to the floor, extinguishing it on the industrial gray concrete. “Your lungs can’t handle it, Mom. You paid the kids down the street again.” Drea shook her head. “Where did you get the money?”

“I gave them your mima’s locket.”

“Por qué, Mamá?” Drea paused, struggling to keep her voice even. “How could you?” It would do no good to yell at her mother—she’d learned that long ago—but the locket was the only thing she had left of the wonderful woman who had died when Drea was nine. 

“You didn’t need it. Anyway, you’d be happy if I died sooner,” she wheezed,  “not so much of a burden.” Rosa turned the wheelchair around and went back into the house.

Drea reached for the spot where the necklace usually lay against her skin. It was cruel, and yet so very much like Rosa she should have anticipated it.  Memories of her mima fiddling with it while she read Drea stories choked her. The loss of the closest thing to a family heirloom left her bereft. She fisted the hand by her side. It was done, and while her heart wept for the loss, Drea knew she had no choice but to move on.