Sneak Peek from Tale of an Anxious Heart by Elsa Jacobs

Tale of an Anxious Heart follows the heart-wrenching journey of Marianne, a young woman plagued by anxiety, as she takes a hitchhiker on her way to her beach house. Despite her reservations, she can’t help but feel drawn to his dark and mysterious persona. However, with each encounter, she begins to realize the man isn’t the person she thought he was.

As they continue on their journey, Marianne’s anxiety worsens, and she struggles to control it. James becomes a trigger for her panic attacks, yet she can’t seem to let him go. Her anxious heart is torn between her love for him and the need to protect herself from the danger he brings. Their relationship becomes increasingly complicated, and the line between love and hate blurs.

And when they start to find peace, their world is turned upside down. As they run for their lives, Marianne and James are pushed to their limits. They face betrayals, heartbreaks, and death at every turn. The journey is full of angst, heartache, and passion as Marianne struggles with her anxiety and traumas, and James fights for his redemption. Will they make it to safety and find a new life together, or will their pasts consume them both?

Excerpt

James removes his tee shirt before I even ask. That man isn’t afraid to take off his clothes in the presence of anyone. I wish I had that kind of confidence. Muscles rolling under his amber skin, just like at the gas station. I grow nervous.

“This is going to hurt,” I warn him.

“Okay.”

I focus on cleaning the wound, the scent of antiseptic fills the air, mixing with the salty tang of sweat. Despite my best efforts, I steal glances at his toned and sinewy arms, rippling beneath the surface of his skin with every movement. His shoulders rise and fall like steep peaks, the muscles defined and sharp, and his pecs stand out like hills that demand attention.

As I work, my gaze lingers on the trail of hair disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans, a tantalizing glimpse of what lay beneath. The urge to touch, explore, and taste is overwhelming, like a siren’s call luring me into dangerous waters.

I must resist and maintain my professionalism, even though every fiber of my being screams to give in to temptation. I focus on the task at hand, all the while trying not to let my imagination run wild with James’ salted caramel abs inches away from my face.

Maybe he tastes like caramel.

A sigh of unfiltered female satisfaction escapes my lips without my consent.

A fiery heat rises from my core and spreads through my body. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of his smirk. He’s so arrogant, always flaunting his cocky attitude. James is gnashing his teeth while grinning. I feel like a teenage girl, swooning over a mischievous bad boy.

“Are you going to stay with me for the entire trip?” I ask.

“Yes.”

I don’t like the fact that I like it. I’m ripe for the asylum. This man is risky for my mental health.

“You could have told me earlier,” I say.

“I guessed you’d never have me back,” he replies.

The situation is a staggering calm. In action movies, the girl falls into the arms of the big brute at this precise moment. His breathing is regular, and I concentrate. James is gawking at me, eyes piercing through my skin and igniting a blazing desire in the foundation of my body.

“There,” I declare once I’m done with my task. “No bath for at least two weeks. Dry it gently after the shower. Then, I’ll reapply the bandage.”

“Shower?” James whispers.

“You weren’t in shape last night.”

“Huh.” An astonished look crosses his face, followed by a discrete longing.

“Don’t you crave a hot shower? After all that insane running?”

“I’d love a steamy shower,” he says, giving me a weird stare.

There’s no way he’s thinking what I’m thinking.

“Need me to get you a towel?” I ask to put an end to my dirty thoughts.

“Yeah.”

“We’re eating in fifteen minutes!” screams my aunt.

I head into the bathroom while he takes off his pants.

Wow… Check that ass!

I put his dirty clothes in the washing machine. He slips his fingers into his boxers to remove them, and wham! I slam the bathroom door shut; my heart trapped in the spin cycle.

Has he no decency?!

I go upstairs, startled by my fake boyfriend’s lack of civility, yet also enthralled by it.

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