When Pride Stands in The Way The Truth Shall Set You Free



Kenna is a successful business woman and loves her job. She is not as successful in love, however. Never mixing business and pleasure, she is being thrown completely off-course when she is thrown together and has to work with a man from the past who has hurt her a lot, Zane, one of the most formidable bodyguards US Army veterans have to offer. With a background is Special Operations, he keeps a cool head even when bombs explode around his ears. He only has one single weakness and that is a woman from the past.

Zane is angry with Kenna because of the way she treated him way back in college. When he suddenly meets her again in a business context, old resentments flare up once more and the most professional security expert in the business behaves somewhat unprofessional when sparks light up into a raging inferno.

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Creation of The Book


I was lying in bed one evening, thinking of the next story I could write and received a message from a friend from London I’d been close to during my time at university in Holloway Road. I remembered back to those days, reminiscing the past as my friend had mentioned something about which sparked off my train of thought.


I remembered the building closest to Upper Street which was relatively new and had a nice vibe to it. There was an elevator there and I used it early mornings because I was just too tired to take the stairs going to the top floor. That feat always needed a coffee.


I can still see it now, the first time, that boy, or better, a young man entered the elevator with me. He wore a black leather coat Matrix-style and had dark shades on his nose. A strong jawline, sensual lips. His black curls near-shaven but not quite. His skin was that of a darker shade of milk chocolate but not yet dark chocolate. I nearly choked on simply swallowing. That guy was HOT in capital letters!


You may not believe this but I was shy. I didn’t dare ever speak to this guy but I made sure I regularly caught the elevator with him and sat close to him in class if at all possible. I did the eye contact with encouraging smile thing, blushing, looking down again and he smiled back. He was very friendly, always greeted everyone he knew with a smile. Even first thing in the morning.


He never asked me out, though, and to this day, I wonder if he’d have agreed to go out with me, had I asked. But at the time, I couldn’t pluck up enough courage to do so and my friend who offered, I didn’t allow to go and ask on my behalf because I was terrified of being rejected and then having to see him twice a week in class after that. To my young, insecure self, this was a humiliation that I could not face.


And as I lay in bed, thinking of this black Matrix man, I wondered what had become of him. And suddenly, there was a story in my head. A story of a college hook up gone bad and one day, twenty years later, these two protagonists meet again, still hung up on their fears, their insecurities, their false pride and wrong assumptions. And thus, this book came into creation, THE RIGHT KIND OF WRONG.

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An Excerpt


Zane drew in his breath sharply when he saw her. Kenna saw from his expression that he was anything but pleased that they would be working together. She didn’t know why he had been so angry with her. After all, he’d had so many girls at college and their one night wasn’t anything he couldn’t forget about, certainly?


But he had been livid. He’d been furious. He had blocked her on every single social media site she’d found him on. Mutual friends – Zane – and then she was blocked! She didn’t know why, didn’t know what she had done to make him so angry. But even now after what seemed a lifetime ago, but was only fifteen years since graduation, he was still pissed at her!


Kenna had never been good at confrontation. She had always tried to avoid it, so she had gone out of her way to avoid Zane. She hadn’t gone to functions where the old college crowd met. She had changed courses at college, so she wouldn’t be in the same classes after that one fateful night during their last year.


She still hated herself for giving in to him, hated that she had thought she’d be safe in the crowd, no matter how much she drank. She had just broken up with her last boyfriend and needed to let her hair down after months of hard study without rest. He’d taken it badly and there had been an argument, accusations, and she had wanted nothing more than to get away from it, wipe out the memories of her ex telling her, she had a secret crush on Zane!


She also wanted to forget Zane, but he was everywhere she turned on campus. They had some of the same friends and there were only three bars the in-crowd hung out at. She was one of that group, even though she had never seen herself as particularly pretty. She wasn’t a cheerleader, either. She was a nerd. Not bad looking, but nothing exciting. She dressed well, but not overly sexy.


She had never quite understood why everyone wanted to be friends with her, the in-crowd, anyway. They didn’t waste their time on studies, they partied it up. She didn’t. At least not most of the time. But still, they all liked her. They always wanted her to tag along to every party, every night out, lunch at the campus even. It had been a mystery to her then as it was now.


Things hadn’t really changed. She was still the popular nerd, and even guys flirted with her. The good-looking guys, the career guys, the successful ones. She didn’t get mixed up with anyone from work. She was very professional that way. She didn’t encourage it, always kept things platonic. And yet…


That night she had got drunk and her roommate Tilda had told Zane why she needed to get herself uncharacteristically plastered. Zane had approached her to offer his condolences, tell her she was better off without the guy, all the things she wanted to hear. And then she had needed some fresh air because she wasn’t used to so much alcohol.


Zane had found her outside, even though she had made a point of slipping out when he’d gone to the bathroom. He’d sat on a low wall, the height of a chair perhaps, and they had talked. At some point, he’d offered to take her home. She’d been tired and tipsy and accepted.

Just a short ride back to the dorm, she had thought. He was driving. He had to concentrate on the road. Nothing could happen. What was the harm in that?

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