Title: The Lie
Author: Karina Halle
Their truth led to the end.
Scottish enigma Brigs McGregor is crawling out
from the ashes. After losing his wife and son in a car accident - and,
subsequently, his job - he's finally moving forward with his life, securing a
prestigious teaching position at the University of London and starting a new
chapter in the city. Slowly, but surely, he's pushing past the guilt and
putting his tragic past behind him.
Until he sees her.
Natasha Trudeau once loved a man so much she
thought she'd die without him. But their love was wrong, doomed from the start,
and when their world crashed around them, Natasha was nearly buried in the
rubble. It took years of moving on to forget him, and now that she's in London,
she's ready to start over again.
Until she sees him.
Because some loves are too dangerous to ever
rekindle.
And some loves are too powerful to ignore.
Can you ever have a second chance at a love that
ruined you?
The Lie is a second-chance romance with a dark,
forbidden twist.
Karina Halle is a phenomenal author. There's no other way to describe how incredible her stories, characters, and writing is. Every time I get my hands on one of her novels I am held captive by her words from the first page to the last. The Lie was another must read novel from her collection and the latest story involving those always enticing McGregor men.
I never could have anticipated the emotional journey I'd experience while reading The Lie. We've been introduced to Brigs McGregor but nothing about the first impression I got could have prepared me for the depth of his story. The last thing I want to do is spoil the dark and twisty goodness of the plot for other readers, so I won't go into great detail about anything other than my experiences while reading.
No matter how hard I tried, I could help the onslaught of tears while reading The Lie. Saying I cried at times is putting a mild spin on the actual blubbering that went down. Had I been reading a paperback, the pages would have been marred with tear stains. There is a beauty in Halle's words that forced me to feel the range of emotions Brigs has felt at rock bottom. Although our paths are quite different, you can't help but connect with these characters and feel like their grief is yours; like you've experienced the loss he did.
I know it's cliche to say, but everyone needs to one-click The Lie and pause their lives so they can devour this outstanding story. This stand alone novel will have even the blackest of hearts melting.
Without even
thinking, I end up in Natasha’s neighborhood, on her street. I pull the car
over and stare at her building. I can drive off. I can go blow off some steam
with Lachlan. I can drive and scream and wish to god that things were
different.
But I don’t want to
do it alone.
I get out of the car
and head to her flat.
I knock on her door,
wondering if she’s even in, if she might still be sleeping. It’s still early on
a Saturday and we don’t see each other on the weekends without it being work
related, such as seeing a classic film at the cinema. I hadn’t planned to talk
to her until Monday, her last week of work as my research assistant before going
back to London.
My heart pinches at
that thought.
She’s leaving me.
What the hell am I
doing?
But then the door
opens slowly and she’s staring at me with wide eyes, her hair piled on top of
her head in a messy bun, a fluffy robe around her body.
“Sorry,” I say
quickly, immediately feeling bad. “Did I wake you up?”
She yawns. “Kind of,
but I should be getting up anyway. What’s, um, up?”
I rub my lips
together. “I…I wanted to know if you wanted to go for a drive?”
“Where?”
I shrug. “I don’t
know. Far away. But not too far. I have to be back by twelve-thirty for
Hamish.”
“What time is it
now?”
“Eight-thirty.”
She rolls her eyes.
“And you were wondering if you woke me up. I should still be sleeping for at
least another two hours.”
I nod, embarrassed at
my enthusiasm. I’m being inappropriate. “I should go.”
I turn around, but
she reaches out and grabs my arm, holding tight. “No, don’t,” she says. “I want
to go with you. Just give me five minutes, okay?”
I turn to look at her
and she’s flashing me a persuasive smile.
“I’ll be in the car,”
I tell her.
Somehow she’s true to
her word. In five minutes she’s jogging down the steps of her building, dressed
in jeans and a tank top that shows off the tawny warmth of her summer tan. She
hasn’t touched her hair at all; it’s still up in that bedhead bun, and there
isn’t a bit of makeup on her. She doesn’t need it. She looks joyful. She looks
absolutely beautiful.
“You’re fast,” I tell
her as she slips into the passenger seat.
She giddily drums her
hands across the dash and beams at me. “I’m fast when I want to be. I love this
car. Where are we going again? Oh right, somewhere far away. Can we get coffee
first? I’m dying.”
I can’t help but grin
at her as I turn the key. The car starts on the first turn. She’s my good luck
charm. “You don’t seem like you need coffee.”
“I always need
coffee,” she says emphatically. “You know this. So where to?”
“I honestly don’t
know. You pick.”
“Do you have a map?”
“Of Scotland?”
“Yeah.”
I nod at the glove
compartment. “In there.”
She opens it and it
falls open with a clunk. She takes out an old faded road map and starts looking
it over.
“Anything strike your
eye?”
“I’m looking for Loch
Ness.”
“That’s too far.”
“Okay, is there like
another lake with a swamp monster?”
“Nearly all the lochs
are in the Highlands.”
“Arrrrrrrrrr in the Highlands,” she says playfully, imitating my
accent.
“Okay, maybe no
coffee for you.”
“Don’t be cruel,
Professor Blue Eyes.” She goes back to studying the map but the mention of my
nickname makes a small fire build inside me. And not one of anger.
She points on the
map. “Here. Balmoral.”
“That’s where the
Queen lives.”
“I know. I want to
say hello.”
“It’s a two-hour
drive,” I point out.
“Well, then we better
get cracking,” she says. “The Queen is expecting us.”
She’s definitely full
of spirit today. It seems to latch onto me and I ingest it like a tonic. She’s
erasing all the humiliation and pain from the morning.
We head out of the
city, taking the A-90 to the M-90 and speed north. After we get her some coffee
and we share a couple of sausage rolls for breakfast, I warn her that we
literally will see the estate and have to head back. But she doesn’t mind.
And honestly, neither
do I. I crank the old radio on the car to pick up an oldies station playing a
special on Otis Redding. The day is warm and gorgeous, and even though we’re
going fast, our windows are down, enjoying the wind and the sun on our skin.
About an hour into
our drive, Natasha turns to me and says, “Tell me the truth. Why did you come
to get me this morning?”
“Was it that
unusual?” I ask without looking at her.
“Yes,” she says. “The
last time you came to my house without me knowing…”
“Back then I was
following up on an email. I wanted to know if you were all right,” I tell her
before she can tell me anything else about that night.
“And now I want to
know if you’re all right,” she says gently.
I glance at her.
There’s a softness in her eyes that undoes me. I grip the wheel hard, conscious
of my every movement and how they might appear to her. A good man, after the
night she kissed me, the night I kissed her right back, would have never been
alone with her again.
But I’m not a good
man.
I’m a man who is
slowly but surely falling in the wrong direction.
Karina
Halle is a former travel writer and music journalist and The New York
Times, Wall Street Journal and USA Today Bestselling author of The Pact,
Love, in English, The Artists Trilogy, Dirty Angels and over 20 other
wild and romantic reads. She lives on an island off the coast of British
Columbia with her husband and her rescue pup, where she drinks a lot of
wine, hikes a lot of trails and devours a lot of books.
Halle is represented by the Waxman Leavell Agency and is both self-published and published by Simon & Schuster and Hachette in North America and in the UK.
Hit her up on Instagram at @authorHalle, on Twitter at @MetalBlonde and on Facebook. You can also visit www.authorkarinahalle.com
and sign up for the newsletter for news, excerpts, previews, private book signing sales and more.
Halle is represented by the Waxman Leavell Agency and is both self-published and published by Simon & Schuster and Hachette in North America and in the UK.
Hit her up on Instagram at @authorHalle, on Twitter at @MetalBlonde and on Facebook. You can also visit www.authorkarinahalle.com
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