Cover Reveal: Forgetting You, Remembering Me (Memories from Yesterday #2) by Monica James

Posted January 4, 2018 by Lisa Mandina in / 0 Comments

Book info:
TitleForgetting You, Remembering Me  
Author:  Monica James 
SeriesMemories from Yesterday #2  
Genre:  Adult contemporary romance
Release Date:  February 28th, 2018

The stunning conclusion to this epic love story that began with Forgetting You, Forgetting Me from International Bestselling author, Monica James.

The truth sets you free…but what happens when everything you believe in changes in the blink of an eye? 

All I ever wanted was for my fiancé, Samuel Stone, to remember me. And now that he does…all I want is for him to forget. Through tragedy, I found myself and who I was destined to become. But more importantly, I found who I was destined to be with. 

With a single word, Saxon Stone changed my life forever. He taught me how to live again. But now that Samuel remembers and all secrets have been revealed, I’m left to wonder which life I’m meant to lead.

Divided by my head and my heart, I’m torn between duty and desire. Samuel is my past while Saxon is my forever. The choice should be easy.

But love never is… 


February 28th 2018

Download Book 1



“I’m going to take off the blindfold,” he
whispers into my ear. I pause in my tracks, eagerly awaiting the view.

No surprise as Saxon draws out the
reveal, torturing me further. I bounce from foot to foot. His husky chuckle
tickles me from the inside out. “I thought you didn’t like surprises.”

“I don’t, but maybe you’ll change my

“Maybe,” he covertly replies before
removing the soft fabric over my eyes.

It takes me a moment to adjust to the dim
lighting, but after blinking a few times, what I see takes my breath away.
“Saxon…oh my god. It’s beautiful.” And it really is.

“You like it?”

“Like it? I love it.” My feet act of their own accord as I float down the steps
and spread my arms out wide. My fingertips brush over hundreds of sunflowers
arranged in endless tall glass vases as I walk my yard. “When did you do this?”

“Today. You looked like you could do with
some color in your day.”

I pause in the middle of my backyard,
needing a moment to take it all in. A red and white picnic blanket lays just a
few feet away, and to the left is a wicker basket. Bouquets of sunflowers are
dotted as far as the eye can see, adding bursts of vibrancy and instantly
lightening my mood.

When I turn over my shoulder, the fairy
lights fashioned as stars dangle from the porch railings and rafters. They add
to this most picturesque scene. However, when I focus on Saxon leaning against
a wooden pillar with a lopsided smirk tugging at his full lips, I know he is
the picture of perfection.

“I can’t believe you did this. Is this
why you’ve been scarce all day? I was starting to think I smelled.”

He laughs, pushing off the post. “You
smell amazing. Hungry?” My growling stomach answers for me.

I watch as Saxon saunters down the
stairs, takes my hand, and leads us to the blanket. The gentle hue of the lights wraps
us in our own private romantic bubble. I fold my legs beneath me as I sit,
running my fingers along the sunflower petals next to me. I can’t help but
reminisce about the first time I saw these flowers with Saxon—I was on the back
of his bike as he saved me from yet another bad day.

Saxon kneels, reaching into the basket.
It’s not until now that I realize how hungry I am. Glued to the computer all
day, I’ve forgotten to eat or move. This is so thoughtful. So Saxon. “I hope
you didn’t go to too much trouble. Well, clearly you did—” I sweep my hand
toward the beauty in front of me “—but I hope you weren’t slaving over a hot
stove all day.”

He gives me a playful grin, and I
discover why when he exposes what’s inside the basket. “Oh my god.” I laugh.
“Just when I thought I couldn’t love you any more, you go and do this.” And by this, I mean when he produces an
enormous paper bag filled with only the best Mexican in all of Montana.
However, the crème de la crème is
when he adds a bottle of Dr. Pepper to the mix. “You know the way to my heart.”

“Or stomach,” he quips, passing me the
bottle. “Here is your seven-layer burrito, extra onions.” He hands over my
mountain of goodness with a grin.

“What did I do to deserve this?” And I’m
not only talking about the food.

“Just being you,” he replies, kissing the
end of my nose. My heart swells. He spreads his long legs out in front of him,
sipping a beer. “How’s work?”

I sigh, unwrapping my burrito. “Not
great. I know there will always be conflict in the world, but it just seems
that lately no one is getting along.”

Saxon moves his lips from side to side,
appearing to be in thought. “I’m glad we are, though.”

Afraid of choking, I chew slowly, needing
a minute to process what he just said. “Me too.” Something is bugging him. It’s
written all over his face. “About this morning—”

He cuts me off. “It’s okay, Lucy. I
just…need to get over this irrational jealousy when it comes to you. I know you
love me, but it’s just difficult sometimes.”

“I completely understand.” I reach for
his hand, intertwining our fingers. “I’m glad you know that I love you. Because
I do. We’re all trying our best to deal with this pretty messed-up situation.
Personally, I think we’re doing great.”

He nods, my words appearing to appease
him. But something is still stirring behind his eyes. Just when I’m about to
ask what’s going on, his phone rings—again. He digs into his pocket, the
‘something’ amplifying tenfold.

“I won’t be a minute.” He stands quickly
and walks briskly away, out of earshot.

Sighing, my appetite gets shot to hell,
and I place my barely touched burrito back into the paper bag. I watch for any
signs of what the secret conversation
Saxon is having entails. But he turns his
back as if sensing my inquisitive stare.

I hate this unsettled feeling in the pit
of my stomach. The light at the end of the tunnel with Sam is shining dimly,
but it’s suddenly overshadowed with whatever Saxon is hiding. He turns over his
shoulder, meeting my eyes, before heading toward the house, which just makes me
feel worse.

Unable to sit still, I stand, feeling
constraints tug at my heart. Needing to escape, I take flight to the stables. Memories of when I felt similar to how I do
now cloud my mind, and I do the only thing that has cleared my head since I
learned to ride.

Potter, my
horse, neighs when he sees me, sensing my desperation. Without
thought, I put on his bridle, then I mount him, bareback, and squeeze my calves
around his muscular barrel. I cluck my tongue twice, sending him into a gallop.
He knows what I need. We both relish in the need
to be free.

Clutching the
reins, I lean forward and take a deep breath when he tears out of the stables,
nothing but the open vastness greeting us. I work on autopilot as I lead him
toward the mountains. We have been here before, and the memories linger on my
tongue just as if they were crafted yesterday.

The wind whips
through my hair, instantly easing some of the tension within. The terrain is
bumpy, but we’ve both learned from experience to navigate this ground with
caution. “Easy, boy,” I coo, tugging lightly to slow him down. He does.

I examine my
surroundings, the untouched openness giving me the peace I need. We settle to a
trot, and although I’ve lived here for years, I still am in awe of how picturesque everything is. But the
prettiest thing of all is when my gaze alights on where Saxon and I shared our
first kiss. This spot has been imprinted on my mind.

Fingering my lips, I recall the
tenderness and uncertainty of his touch. I was so naïve to think that kiss
wouldn’t change my life as I knew it. It not only changed my life, but it
changed me too. Saxon has shaken up my world, but I would happily dance in the
chaos because when I’m with him, I’ve never felt more alive.

Dismounting Potter, I tie him to a tree
where he happily munches on the grass. So different from when we were here
last. My bare feet sink into the terrain, and I savor the feel of being in
touch with mother nature in the purest form.

Wrapping my arms around my middle, I
close my eyes and return to the past. I can remember his words as if spoken
only yesterday.

pretend tomorrow doesn’t exist. Whatever happens now, it’ll just be memories
from yesterday.”
I could
feel the tremble rumble throughout his entire body.

A quiver bubbles to the surface, and I
hum. Saxon’s love for me has never wavered. I was just too blind to see. But my
eyes, figuratively speaking, are opened now, and I’ll be damned if anything
stands in the way of our happily ever after.

“What are you doing out here?” His voice
is silk, encasing me in a velvety sphere.

“You kissed me here. Right in this spot.
Do you remember?”

“Of course, I do,” he whispers, the
nostalgia tethering us together.

With eyes still closed, I tip my face
toward the heavens and take a deep breath. “We were fated from that moment

“We were fated a long time before then.”
And he’s right. The first moment we met, touched, my world changed forever. “Is
everything all right? You just took off.”

Sighing, I decide no more second-guessing. “Who were you talking to?”


“And don’t tell me just work.”


“You’re not telling me something, and I
can’t help but feel you’re not telling me this because
your secret will change everything.”

I’m hoping he will brush away my
insecurities and tell me I’m overreacting, but when he does neither, a sense of
dread settles low within my stomach. Unable to stand this a second longer, I
open my eyes and turn to face him. The cloud of guilt hangs over his head as he
peers down at his scuffed motorcycle boots.

“Just tell me what it is. This is your free
pass. Whatever it is, I will deal with it. But please, don’t lie to me or hide
the truth because we’ve had enough deceit to last us a lifetime.”

He mulls over my proposition, which has
me wondering what exactly he’s done. A cold sweat suddenly coats my skin, and I
swallow. “Oh god, Saxon, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, Lucy, nothing. I promise.” I’m
in his arms a moment later as he hugs me with all his might. “Everything is all
right. Everything will be fine.” I didn’t realize things weren’t already fine.

Breaking our embrace, I shake my head,
adamant to find out the truth. “I don’t
believe you.” Nothing but regret rolls off him as his shoulders drop. I can’t
stand this. I don’t know why, but my gut tells me this involves Cleo. I knew
she was trouble from the first moment we met, but I never thought she’d have
the power to drive a wedge between us. “Does this have anything to do with…
Cleo?” His jaw clenches.

I’m waiting for him to put my mind at
ease, but he doesn’t. He simply stands mute, hands dug deep into his pockets. I
feel sick. “Saxon, answer me. What…what did you do?”

He hisses, taking a step back. “I didn’t
do anything.”

“Then tell me what the hell is going on.”

“Why would you automatically assume Cleo
is involved?”

“Because whoever you’re speaking to, you
clearly don’t want me to know who it is. So unless you have another girl on the

girl?” he spits, angered. “I don’t have any
girls but you, Lucy.”

“Then tell me what’s going on!”

An exasperated breath leaves him as he
begins to pace. This place once filled with happy memories is now tainted with
secrets and doubt. I give him the time he clearly needs because he’ll just clam
up if I continue to push.

“Yes, I need to tell you something, but…”
He comes to a stop, running both hands through his snarled hair. “But I know
when I do, you’ll…” The sentence remains unfinished because the ringing of
Saxon’s cell cements my fate for good.

About the Author:

Monica James spent her youth devouring the works of Anne
Rice, William Shakespeare, and Emily Dickinson.

When she is not writing, Monica is busy running her own
business, but she always finds a balance between the two. She enjoys writing
honest, heartfelt, and turbulent stories, hoping to leave an imprint on her
readers. Her inspiration comes from every day life.

She is a bestselling author in the US, Australia, Canada,
and the UK.

Monica James resides in Melbourne, Australia, with her
wonderful family, and menagerie of animals. She is slightly obsessed with cats,
chucks and lip gloss, and secretly wishes she was a ninja on the weekends.

Instagram: @MonicaJames

Website: (Buy
links are on her site)



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