Pre-Release Spotlight: Code Of Honor by Missy Johnson.

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CODE OF HONOR

Spontagio Family #1

Missy Johnson

Releasing Aug 25th, 2015

Loveswept

In a series debut for fans of Tracy Wolff and Sylvia Day, New York Timesbestselling author Missy Johnson asks a burning question: What happens when love is undeniable—and taboo?

Pietro Gustovi is loyal, polished, and hard as stone, the kind of guy women want and men respect. At twenty-three, he’s survived tragedies that would break men twice his age. And he owes it all to his father’s closest friend, Giovanni Spontagio, who took him in as an orphaned teenager. Pietro would give his life for Giovanni . . . but his heart belongs to Giovanni’s daughter.

Raised in Chicago under the spotlight of power and privilege, Lucy Spontiago feels most alive on stage. Determined to become a prima ballerina, she escapes her father’s protective gaze long enough
to audition for the ballet in New York City. Soon, however, Lucy realizes that she is not alone. Pietro is watching her back. And though he’s like a brother to her, Lucy cannot deny the thrill she feels knowing his eyes are on her.

Pietro could never betray his mentor by sleeping with his only child. But Lucy follows her passions, no matter how forbidden. Soon their nights are consumed by explosive, red-hot temptation—a dance that will expose shocking secrets and burn everything else to the ground.

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I can’t believe I’m doing this.

My hands shake as I sit down on the floor and begin my stretches. I glance around, taking in the hundreds of girls who are here for the same reason as I am. To follow their dreams and perform with one of the top ballet companies in the world. This is every little girl’s dream.

Who am I kidding? I don’t even know why I’m here.

Wait, yes I do. I was unwittingly roped into coming here by my supposed best friend and my number one fan, Bella. If I trip over my clumsy feet and make a fool of myself, I’ll never forgive her.

When I found out she’d filled out the application on my behalf I’d been so annoyed that I refused to speak to her for days, but now sitting here, about to perform, I’m thankful that she believed in me that much.

Since I was a child, the only constant in my life has been my dancing. It sheltered me from the pain of watching my mother succumb to cancer. It gave me hope when all felt lost. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else with my life but at the same time I was plagued with self-doubt. I was constantly comparing myself to others, always convinced I’d never be good enough.

“Luce, if you don’t try, how do you know what you’re capable of?” Bella had said after I’d received notification of my audition date. I’d screamed at her for applying on my behalf, but what she was saying made sense. If I wanted to do this, I needed to know I could. How could I expect others to believe in me if I didn’t believe in myself?

“Lucia Spontagio?”

My heart jumps as I get to my feet. I run my hands down over my smooth tights, trying to focus only on getting inside that room. I walk in and smile at the line of officials. Some I recognize as well-known choreographers and dancers, some I don’t know at all.

“When you’re ready.”

I nod and position myself in the center of the room. I’ve been to auditions before, but none this important. The next few minutes had the ability to completely change the course of my life. No pressure, right?

Just dance like you’re the only one in the room.

I knew my chances of being accepted into this company were extremely low, no matter how outstanding my results were from college, or how many local productions I’d excelled in, and for a brief moment I want to kill Bella for setting me up for what was bound to be the ultimate failure.

If you keep thinking like that you don’t deserve a place.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and begin to dance as the soft notes of Bach fill my head. I forget where I am, and just like that, I’m back dancing in the studio my father built for me after I begged him for somewhere to dance.

Every day and every night I’d spend hours practicing in my studio, with the help of one of the best instructors in Chicago. Who said money couldn’t buy happiness? If there was one thing my father was good at, it was ensuring his little girl had everything she wanted.

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Missy Johnson is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who lives in a small town in Victoria, Australia, with her husband and her confused pets (a dog who thinks that she is a cat, a cat
who thinks he is a dog . . . you get the picture). When she’s not writing, she can usually be found looking for something to read.

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New Release Spotlight: Before We Were Strangers

From the USA TODAY bestselling author of Sweet Thing and Nowhere But Here comes a love story about a Craigslist “missed connection” post that gives two people a second chance at
love fifteen years after they were separated in New York City.

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2. Five Days After I Saw You

MATT

I took the damn F train, an hour-long ride to Brooklyn from Midtown and back every day, at lunch, hoping I would run into Grace again, but I never did.

Things were bad at work. I had submitted a request to go into the field three months earlier but had been denied. Now I had to watch Elizabeth and Brad walk around in bliss as people congratulated them on the baby and Brad's promotion, which came right after the announcement.

Meanwhile, I was still rejecting any forward motion in my life. I was a stagnant puddle of shit. I had volunteered to go back on location to South America with a National Geographic film crew. New York just wasn't the same anymore. It held no magic for me. The Amazonian jungle, with all of its wonderful and exotic diseases, seemed more appealing than taking orders from my ex-wife and her smug husband. But my request hadn't been approved or denied. It just sat in a pile of other requests on Scott's desk.

I pondered the current state of my life while I stared at a blank wall in the office break room. Standing next to the water cooler, holding a half-empty paper cone, I tallied the insubstantial years I had spent with Elizabeth and wondered why. How had things gone so terribly wrong?

"What are you doin', man?" Scott's voice came from the doorway.

I turned and smiled. "Just thinking."

''You seem a little brighter."

"Actually, I was thinking about how I ended up thirty-­six, divorced, and trapped in cubicle hell."

He walked to the coffeepot and poured a mug full then leaned against the counter. "You were a workaholic?" he offered.

"That's not why Elizabeth was unfaithful. She fell right into Brad's skinny arms, and he works more than I do. Hell, Elizabeth works more than I do."

"Why are you dwelling on the past? Look at you. You're tall. You have hair. And it looks like"—he waved his hand around at my stomach—"you might have abs?"

''You checking me out?"

''I'd kill for a head of hair like that."

Scott was the kind of guy who was bald by twenty-two. He's been shaving it Mr. Clean-style since then.

"What do women call that thing?" He pointed to the back of my head.

"A bun?"

"No, there's, like, a sexier name for it. The ladies love that shit."

"They call it a man-bun."

He studied me. "Jesus, you're a free man, Matt. Why aren't you prowling the savannahs for new game? I can't watch you mope around like this. I thought you were over Elizabeth?"

I shut the break-room door. "I am. I was over Elizabeth a long time ago. It's hard for me even to remember being into her. I got caught up in the fantasy of it, traveling with her, taking photos. Something was always missing, though. Maybe I did work too much. I mean, that's all we talked about, that's all we had in common. Now look where I am."

"What about Subway Girl?"

"What about her?"

"I don't know. I thought you were gonna try to get in touch with her?"

"Yeah. Maybe. Easier said than done."

"You just have to put yourself out there. Get on social media."

Will I find Grace there? I went back and forth between wanting to do everything I could to find her and feeling like it was totally pointless. She'd be with someone. She'd be someone's wife. Someone better than me. I wanted to get away from everything reminding me that I still had nothing.

"If you care so much, why haven't you approved my request?" I asked.

He scowled. I noticed how deep the line was between his eyebrows and it occurred to me that Scott and I were the same age...and he was getting old. "I don't mean the actual savannahs, man. Running away isn't going to solve your problems."

"Now you're my shrink?"

"No, I'm your friend. Remember when you asked for that desk job?"

I walked toward the door. "Just consider it. Please, Scott."

Right before I left the room he said, "You're chasing the wrong thing. It's not gonna make you happy."

He was right, and I could admit that to myself, but not out loud. I thought if I could win an award again, get some recognition for my work, it would fill the black hole eating away at me. But deep down, I knew that wasn't the solution.

After work, I sat on a bus bench just outside the National Geographic building. I watched hordes of people trying to get home, racing down the crowded sidewalks of Midtown. I wondered if I could judge how lonely a person was based on how much of a hurry he or she was in. No one who has
someone waiting for him at home would sit on a bus bench after a ten-hour workday and people-watch. I always carried an old Pentax camera from my college days in my messenger bag, but I hadn't used it in years.

I removed it from the case and starting clicking away as people flooded in and out of the subway, as they waited for buses, as they hailed cabs. I hoped that through the lens I would see her again, like I had years before. Her vibrant spirit; the way she could color a black-and-white photo with her magnetism alone. I had thought about Grace often over the years. Something as simple as a smell, like sugared pancakes at night, or the sound of a cello in Grand Central or Washington Square Park on a warm day, could transport me right back to that year in college. The year I spent falling in
love with her.

It was hard for me to see the beauty in New York anymore. Granted, much of the riffraff and grit was gone, at least in the East Village; it was cleaner and greener now, but that palpable energy I had felt in college was gone, too. For me, anyway.

Time passes, life goes on, places change, people change. And still, I couldn't get Grace off my mind after seeing her in the subway. Fifteen years is too long to be holding on to a few heart-pounding moments from college.

Renée Carlino is a screenwriter and bestselling author of romantic women's novels. She lives in Southern California with her husband, two sons, and their sweet dog June. When she’s not at the beach with her boys or working on her next project, she likes to spend her time reading, going to concerts, and eating dark chocolate.

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