Blind Faith: Hopeless Romantics, #5
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About this ebook
Tropes:
instalove romance
friends to lovers
age gap romance
wide age gap
obsessed alpha hero
double virgins
former priest
Father Galen Murphy doesn't want to be a priest anymore.
Born into power and privilege, at eighteen, he defied destiny and renounced his birthright. For twenty-four years, he's followed his calling and served God, living a life of poverty and chastity.
But something is missing.
When a tragic loss makes him question his faith, and a pair of dark brown eyes make him rethink his choices, Galen takes off his collar and chooses an ordinary life.
Birdie Garcia is too young for a forty-two-year-old man. She's prudish and devout, with an old soul, a reverent heart, and a sensible head on her shoulders. No stranger to hard work, she makes it her mission to help launch her beloved sister's matchmaking business---until their newest client turns out to be a priest!
She couldn't possibly help lead one of God's anointed further away from his calling. It's forbidden, sacrilegious, and will surely earn her a first-class ticket to hell.
Then why does she fantasize about the sweetest man she's ever met? Why does she dream of his handsome face, his majestic frame, and the storm-blue eyes that have the power to see into her soul?
Galen knows he's found the girl of his dreams. Despite Birdie's reluctance and their twenty-three-year age difference, he won't be dissuaded. He's a patient man with years of practice at self-denial. How difficult can a few more months of simmering sexual tension, burgeoning lust, and explosive desire be? Find out!
This steamy romance includes a cat and mouse chase between double virgins who fall head over heels in love and quickly discover the naughty side of wedded bliss. Includes religious references that will make you clutch your pearls and laugh out loud---but may offend the faint of heart. You've been warned.
Matilda Martel
Matilda loves many things---her husband, dachshunds, cats, the two terrible Chihuahuas who live with her, Paris, New York, a few select friends and family, Nutella, books, lots and lots of books, and writing sweet, steamy romance for nerdy girls-- because that's who I am.If you like your romances steamy but sweet. Sexy, but on the shorter side. With smart and sassy heroines who fall for soulful Alphas- then you might like my books.I write A LOT of OMYW, cause that's just my bag. But no matter what kind of story it is, my ladies are always adored and my endings are always HEA.Please head to my blog: www.matildamartel.com, to learn what's in the final stages and will be coming out soon!Want a free Ebook? Join my mailing list to get my monthly newsletter at : www.matildamartel.com/mailinglist/
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Blindsided: Hopeless Romantics, #3 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsBlind Spot: Hopeless Romantics, #4 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsBlind Faith: Hopeless Romantics, #5 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
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Book preview
Blind Faith - Matilda Martel
ONE
GALEN
A MONTH EARLIER
The car is ready, sir.
My late brother's housekeeper stands at attention by the door and directs me to the sleek, black monstrosity parked at the curb. I stall at the top of the stoop and stare with disdain, smiling through clenched teeth as Kyle, Garrett's longtime driver, scrambles to open the door.
None of this is mine. Seventeen years ago, days after my twenty-fifth birthday, I took a vow of poverty and surrendered my birthright to my younger brother, Garrett. The cars, the houses, the billions of dollars I'll soon inherit---everything belongs to him. Unfortunately, he doesn't need them anymore. My baby brother has gone to a better place and left everything to me. I don't deserve any of it.
No one says life is fair, but you never expect it to be this cruel. Garrett should be here. I'm his big brother, and it was my job to take care of him. But once again, I let him down. If I could, I'd happily take his place. He'd succeed where I failed and fulfill our father's expectations.
I stare into the backseat of the limousine and feel my collar tighten like a noose around my neck. All this extravagance is too much too soon. No matter what I decide, I can't pretend the last two decades didn't happen. I won't fall back into a life of entitled luxury. That's not who I am---not anymore.
Sorry for dragging you out here. But I think I'll take the subway. Please, take the rest of the day off,
I apologize to the driver, then search the street for the nearest metro sign.
The closest station is four blocks away. I'll take you there.
Kyle reopens the door, but I wave him off and apologize again.
Four blocks are nothing.
I point to my comfortable shoes, the ones he wouldn't be caught dead wearing, then hit the pavement. A little exercise might help clear my head and give me a chance to reminisce about carefree days when the only things on my mind were girls, school, and catching up with friends---in that order. It's been years since I've been back, and once upon a time, this was my favorite place in the world.
Two blocks down from Garrett's brownstone, I take a right on 96th street and head towards Lexington Avenue. I know this part of town like the back of my hand. So much has changed since I lived here, but the sights and sounds of my old stomping ground have remained frozen in time.
I wish I'd come home to better news---a birthday, anniversary, anything but a funeral. After twenty-four years, I've grown accustomed to crushing loneliness, but it always felt good knowing I could come home and see my family. One by one, they've left me behind, and I've become the last man standing.
No one ever expects to be alone in the world, but my father warned me. He said a day would come when I'd look back on my life and wonder if the trade and sacrifice had been worth it. And as always, he was right. I bartered my youth, time away from my loved ones, my dreams of falling in love, and my hope of one day becoming a father for a calling I was too young to understand.
My father never wanted me to become a priest and made no secret about it. On the morning I left for the seminary, I anticipated the argument of my life. He never understood my calling and for years didn't believe I'd see it through.
I expected anger or mockery, threats followed by bribes. I carried my final bag down the grand staircase and found my dad waiting for me by the door. His proud chin drooped. His massive shoulders sagged. The steel-blue eyes that always sparkled with a hint of mischief appeared dim with despair.
My father wasn't furious---he was heartbroken. With my mother by his side, he gave me a final hug and sent me on my way, staring longingly at the vehicle until we were clear from his sight.
Seven years later, he pleaded with me not to take my vows. Odin Murphy was a proud man who never asked anyone for anything, but he clasped his hands and dropped to his knees to stop me from becoming a priest. Although it pained me deeply, I denied his request and followed through with my commitment that evening.
That miserable memory never leaves my thoughts.
We'd always been close and as far as he was concerned, becoming a priest meant defying my destiny. He never said it out loud, but I knew him well enough to know what he was thinking.
My father expected me to follow in his footsteps and become the head of the family. He hoped I'd raise children of my own and fill the family estate to the brim. The church stole his son, robbed him of generations of Murphys by turning me into a virtual eunuch, then prevented me from taking over the corporation he built from the ground up.
At the time, I couldn't see past my own needs and desires. I couldn't set aside my fervent calling to serve God, and in doing so, I dishonored my parents and broke the fourth commandment.
I'm a disgrace---unfit to lead mass and unworthy of sharing the sacraments. Ever since I heard of Garrett's death, I haven't been able to look at myself in the mirror.
My brother should have had the freedom to travel and see the world. He wanted to be a photojournalist, not a real estate developer. Ever since he was a little boy, he had an eye for photography. He never went anywhere without his camera. When I selfishly chose the priesthood, I stole his