The Art of Sage (Cruz Brothers #2)
By Melanie Munton
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Synopsis: With death came new life.
She was my new life.
And I would never be able to let her go.
Social work was never an easy job but somebody had to do it. Fortunately for kind-hearted
and tattooed Sage Tucker, she wanted to do it. Day in and day out she saw kids who
reminded her of her past and she needed to do everything in her power to give them the
help that she never received when she was young. The more kids she helped, the more
layers she thought she could shed of her dark childhood. But nothing ever worked. She was
haunted by her memories, consumed by her anger. She slowly felt herself slipping further
down into a hole, one she didn’t know if she would ever escape from.
Art made sense to Mason Cruz. Keeping his hands busy was his therapy. Being able to do
both at his auto body shop was his sanctuary. Despite everything he had to overcome in his
life, he had finally made something of himself and was where he wanted to be
professionally. With every car he painted and every motorcycle he restored, he could keep
the demons inside his head at bay. He just wished he was as good at repairing his soul as he
was at repairing vintage fenders.
Sage had never felt so exposed than when she was around the smooth and charming
Mason. Talking to him made her feel like she was under a microscope, but maybe that was
exactly what she needed. Nobody had ever wanted to understand her like he did. Nobody
had ever cared enough to ask and she had never cared to share.
And now she knew why.
Because she knew that whenever Mason learned everything about her, heard all of her
darkest secrets, he would never want to look at her again.
About the Author
Traveler. Reader. Beach-goer. St. Louis Cardinals fan. Pasta-obsessed. North Carolina
resident. Sarcastic. Bit of a nerd.
Author of the Cruz Brothers, Possession and Politics, and Timid Souls series, Melanie loves
all things romance, comedies and suspense in particular because it's boring to only stick to
one sub-genre. From light-hearted comedies to sexy thrillers, she likes to mix it up, but
loves her some strong alpha males and sassy heroines.
Sign up for her newsletter to read exclusive excerpts and teasers from her latest projects!
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“Plymouth Road Runner. 1970. Not bad.” I followed Sage around to the front of the car,
trying my hardest—appropriate word—to not stare at her ass in that skirt.
She lifted the hood, sighing as she propped it up. “Yeah, she’s a champ. I don’t see any
leaks and everything else looks normal from what I can see. It made a kind of knocking
sound before it died, so I’m thinking it might be an issue with a flywheel. God, if it’s a
camshaft I’m screwed. That’s the original 383 in there, so it’s not as if it’s a brand new
I was speechless.
Who the hell was this woman?
She looked over at me when I didn’t respond, choosing instead to stare at the poor
woman like a dumbass. She hadn’t known she was going to pick up a fucking stalker when
she walked into my shop earlier, but damned if I could control my reaction when a woman
who looked like her talked cars to me. She obviously knew what she was talking about and
it was by far one of the most attractive things about her. Purr some more of that sweet stuff
my way, baby.
Not that she wasn’t probably the most incredible-looking woman I’d ever seen in my life
because she definitely was. In fact, I’d nearly had a heart attack the second I laid eyes on
her. Long, luscious hair, the purple color suiting her perfectly. Sharp eyes, seductive smile,
and a banging body. But those tattoos of hers were something else. Attention-grabbing
from a distance, but the closer you got to them, the more mesmerizing they were. The
intricacy to them was a work of art, some of the best I’d ever seen.
Whoever had marked her was a genius. Because not only were the designs beautifully
done but the placement of them on her body was perfection. The way the stems of the
flowers curled around her shoulder, the delicacy of the feathers that looked to almost touch
her neck, the colors blending together in a magnificent moving tapestry. Each one
complemented her in the most tasteful way. I was going to have to find out who her artist
was because they had already ranked pretty high in my book.
Sage was looking at me with a concerned expression. Yeah, you’re still staring, you idiot. I
turned my attention to the car but couldn’t help my curiosity. “So, you know cars?”
“Not a lot but my dad taught me some stuff, so I know a little more than the basics.
Doesn’t really help me much if I can’t actually fix the problem myself,” she added in a
disgusted voice. I made sure to hide my grin and kept my back facing her.
“But if you and everyone else could fix their issues themselves, people like me would go
out of business.”
She hummed in acknowledgement. “I guess that’s true. You seem pretty good at what you
do if your car is anything to go by.”
Oh, I’m good at a lot of things I do, sweetheart.