After four years of marriage, Sonia and Craig Hamilton are as much in love as ever. But their happiness turns into a nightmare when they are violently assaulted while taking a late-night walk in a Chicago park.
Back home in Cold Creek, Wyoming, far from the dangers of the big city, they try to put the attack behind them. But it's not long before Sonia realizes Craig is haunted by the memory, and his inability to protect her. His obsession with keeping her safe, and getting revenge, soon threatens to tear them apart...
There are no customer reviews available at this time. Would you like to write a review?
January 24, 2011
Number of Print Pages*
Adobe DRM EPUB
* Number of eBook pages may differ. Click here for more information.
Excerpt from Conquer the Memories by Jennifer Greene
"I'm telling you, Craig, you could make it in politics. Energy is still the public's favorite subject, particularly since the latest crisis in the Middle East. With the handle you've got on oil shale..."
"I hear you, sir." Above the elderly ex-senator's shoulder, Craig Hamilton spotted his wife. For an instant, all he could see was a single splash of bright emerald through a zigzag path of dark business suits and broad shoulders. That particular shade of green was not his favorite color. "You'll like the dress when you see it on," Sonia had told him.
Actually, he didn't. As he got a better view of Sonia, Craig decided that the neck of the dress annoyed him--there wasn't any. Sonia had a beautiful throat, long and white, her delicate collarbones framing the hollow that always pulsed when she was excited. So vulnerable, that ivory flesh. And just above the silky green fabric, anyone could see the rise of her breasts.
She laughed suddenly, her springy black curls dancing around her cheeks. Three men from the press surrounded her, but Craig could still catch the sparkle of her animated aquamarine eyes from two dozen feet away.
Now that he thought about it, the whole dress annoyed him. The gown was just a little too much like a game of show-and-tell. The way the sneaky little slit showed off her legs every time she took a step, for instance. And no, not another soul in the room could conceivably tell from the design of the dress that she was braless, but Craig knew. He happened to have...been there when she was dressing.
"You've got the money," former senator Rafe Bradford continued, "and, more important, you've got the power. People listen to you, Craig. Why, in my day, I'd have sold my soul to get the kind of public support you already have."
Craig snagged a glass of champagne for the older man from a passing waiter. He didn't bother to contradict anything Bradford said, although privately Craig knew he'd prefer digging ditches to a political career any day. But the ex-senator had once been a friend of his family's, and the man was old and lonely.
"Everyone in this room knows you were the principal adviser to the Senate subcommittee on shale oil..."
The sash on that damn dress drew in her waist, accenting its tiny proportions. And Sonia had a way with her eyes that captivated everyone, including the press. Craig's mouth twitched as he watched her effortlessly charm Andrew Roth, the most cynical of national news commentators. Roth had called this national conference defining the new relationship between energy and ecology a scam; he claimed the "relationship" was a contradiction in terms and always would be. Sonia was setting him straight. Roth's bald head was bobbing up and down...
"Not that it's any of my business, but you have that little ranch--and people do love a man with a feeling for the land. A self-made man. Oil shale always had a bad press until you tackled it with that new extraction process of yours. We're all hungry for a way to get out of our dependency on foreign oil, as long as it's not at our own expense. And you could use that expertise of yours to help us do just that, son."