Kindle Edition Amazon Writer Cramped Amazon Amazon Category:  Romance Publisher: Accent Press ISBN-10:  1783756918 Type: Fiction Pages: 466 Copyright: 2014 ISBN-13: 9781783756919 Price: $2.89 (eBook) You can escape your past but can you ever escape yourself? In the face of temptation old habits die hard. Jessica Avery is a woman in her early thirties, with a three year old son, Rory.  She has made a series of wrong choices in her life – job, men and life-style. Her job came to a disastrous conclusion. The men in her life have always let her down and her life-style involved too many pills, parties and promiscuity. But she believes that by quitting her old relationship and moving from London to the country, she has escaped all that. Her choice now is to live a steady, responsible life in a tranquil new environment, putting her son’s needs, and her role as a mother, as her number one priority.   But Jessica finds country life less serene than she imagined. Her ex-partner tracks her down and assaults her. As an in-comer – and even worse, an ex-investment banker – she  is not made very welcome by the local mothers. New friends have hidden and disturbing agendas.    The narrative is played out against the low-key background story of a proposed by-pass to the local town. Initially Jessica favours a new road until she realises the route it might take, tearing through the landscape she’s come to love. She is torn between the pragmatic and the romantic decision.   The friends Jess makes represent the differing positions. There is Danny Bowman, the counter-culture shepherd; his employer, James Warwick, affluent widowed farmer and father to three year old daughter, Sasha; Gilda Warwick, James’s match-making mother; and Sheila, the feminist nursery school owner.   The title - ‘Torn’ - can also be understood as referring to the personal choices which confront Jessica. Despite vowing she wants no emotional entanglements in her life, she is attracted to two very different men. She finds, to her cost, that in the face of temptation it is not so easy to throw off old habits and responses. Despite her resolution not to become involved, she immediately falls into bed with one and begins to make a friend of the other.    Jessica is a woman who claims she has never been in love. Eventually she is prompted to re-evaluate and to admit to herself, that beyond an undeniable physical attraction, she has indeed fallen in love, but with which one – the suitable man or the unsuitable boy?           Excerpt New Year’s morning Jess opened her eyes. Though her brain was crystal clear, her head ached and her mouth was sour and parched. Drunk’s dawn. Brilliant. For a moment she had the sense she was alone. What a relief. The man had had the decency to creep away while she slept. She could get up and fetch herself a glass of water. Then she heard his breathing and the dip of the mattress as he stirred. She froze, revolted by the thought that her skin might come into contact with his. The idea of touching a bony, hairy male leg – or worse – was repellent. And if he was rousing she didn’t want him to know she was awake. He turned over and then turned back again. She remained still, feigning sleep. It was a long time since she’d done anything so impetuous, so stupid, and had lost some of the brazenness needed to face the stranger in the morning. Especially after you’ve thrown your guts up down the loo a few hours earlier, she thought. Had he fancied her sufficiently, after she’d vomited, to proceed with what he had every right to believe was on offer before? If there had been any sex she’d been too far-gone to remember it now. She had only the haziest memory of what he actually looked like. More importantly did he use a condom?   Chapter One A Few Weeks Earlier Coloured lights were strung in swags from lamp-post to lamp-post. Lights delineated the stone gables and studded the fir trees on shop front pediments. She smiled, enjoying the sting of the night air on her cheeks as she paused there, on the step of the Prince Rupert, to shrug on her coat. It had only been a few months, but the fact was undeniable. Already she’d begun to relax, begun to see the future with optimism, begun to feel safe – safer than in a long time. She must bring Rory into town one evening soon. There were many childhood years ahead of him – plenty of time to make trips back to London for its bizarre cocktail of the gaudy and the glamorous. For the present, the simple Christmas decorations in this old market town would seem magical enough to him. His happiness and security were all important. It might just be the two of them from now on, and their pleasures might be simple, but life would be normal and safe; on that she was determined. Without warning the lights jagged upwards, meteor tails zigzagging through the sky. The ground tipped. A jarring thud reverberated up her spine. At first she was too stunned by the heavy fall to understand what had happened. Then came the flush of embarrassment and self-blame. Why had she chosen to wear these stilt-heeled boots? Who on earth was she expecting to impress in this backwater? Already, in the split second since the world had tilted up and smacked her on the bottom, she sensed the damp chill of the stone flags seeping through her clothes, reaching her skin. ‘Get up. Fucking histrionic cow!’ Comprehension shocked through her in a sickening rush. Only then did she register the drag on her scalp, the whiplash pain in her neck. She tried to get up; the urgent need to retrieve her dignity overriding fear. But again he’d grabbed her hair and was hauling her up from the ground – her high heels slid and scrabbled to gain purchase on the slick surface. ‘Stop it. Stop pulling my hair you bastard!’ ‘Then fucking get up, fucking c... bitch!’ ‘You pulled me over!’ ‘Balls. You throw yourself on the ground and scream blue murder as soon as anyone looks at you!’ Anyone? Did he really believe he was one of many falsely accused? ‘You’ve always been a drama queen.’ Why was she so surprised? Because until this moment she’d managed to convince herself she would be safe here, that he would rather pretend he didn’t care than add to the indignity by running after her. As time passed her confidence had grown, the tight, hard knots in shoulders and neck gradually loosening. Now, disillusion took over from surprise. Defeated fatigue weighted her limbs, fuddled her brain. ‘Why have you come here?’ she asked bleakly. ‘What do you want, Sean?’ ‘You know! Don’t be fucking stupid as well as fucking deceitful and cowardly. No one runs out on me! I want you to come home. I want us to be a family again.’ ‘And this is the best way to persuade me? To make me realise what a fool I’ve been ... chase me halfway across the country, then assault and abuse me in the street?’ ‘You don’t know what abuse is! I’ve seen real abuse. Women with broken bones, ruptured organs....’ ‘Exactly! Didn’t want to hang around till it got that bad. Anyway, we’ve never been a real family.’ His face darkened. ‘You’re a fucking spiteful slag! So bloody superior and sanctimonious. Always making out I’m worse than I am, that I’m not worthy of you and Rory ... like I’m some kind of bloody animal!’ You said it, she thought. Sheila had the right idea. Give them enough time and all men revealed themselves as pigs - though that was being offensive to pigs. She wondered where he’d sprung from. Had he discovered her address? Had he been following her? The pub was full; he could easily have been lurking in a corner behind the older regulars hugging the bar, or the gangs of boisterous, bragging youths and raucous girls in their Friday night finery. Though it wouldn’t have been easy to remain hidden amongst the group of ‘new-agers’ who’d colonised a bench table near the window behind them. ‘You’re the fucking animal!’ Sean continued. ‘You’re the slut! And the second you’re out of my sight, you’re out gallivanting, neglecting your precious son.’ ‘Neglecting him? This is the first time I’ve been out in nearly three months. And it’s not like I’ve been clubbing all night! This is a pub. It’s barely ten o’clock. All I’ve drunk is a glass of wine and some tonic. I came out to have a drink with a woman friend and I’ve been no more than a couple of hours. Rory is perfectly fine. He’s with my neighbour. But she’ll be expecting me back by now. You’ve already made me late. I have to collect him....’ ‘I’ll drive you,’ Sean interrupted. ‘No.’ Apart from anything else he was obviously unfit. ‘How do you think I got here? My car is….’ ‘Then I’ll follow you.’ He grabbed her arm. ‘I’d like to say hi to Rory.’ ‘What are you...? Stop! Stop it! The car park’s the other way.’ ‘We’ll go and get my car.’ His tone had moderated but retained a hint of exasperation as if she were the one being unreasonable. ‘Drive to yours. Then I can follow you.’ At once she was convinced this was a ploy; he didn’t know where she lived. Perhaps he’d come to the town on a hunch, knowing she had nostalgic memories of the area. Or perhaps a friend had let slip that she’d spoken of looking for a place near Warford. If so it was a dismal coincidence he should run into her on her first evening out. But if he really didn’t have her address she was desperate to keep it that way. ‘No, it’s too late. Where are you staying? I’ll meet you tomorrow,’ she lied, attempting a more conciliatory tone, ‘....bring Rory. We can have coffee and a chat.’ ‘Oh no! I’m not waiting till the morning!’ His grip tightened. ‘I know you, you’ll chicken out.’ ‘I won’t! I won’t!’ She tried to pull away, but he held on. He couldn’t really intend to force her to go with him, could he? A cold sweat prickled her skin. She began to feel panicky, feverish. The heavy pulse of blood throbbed loud in her head. A fumbling struggle began, hampered by layers of winter clothing. Fighting and elbowing, she finally slipped out of his grasp; he was left holding her unbuttoned coat. Her bag skidded over the wet paving stones. She staggered backwards towards the pub and picked up the bag. Even though it was new and expensive she didn’t care about the coat. Nothing mattered beyond the imperative to lose him and get home to her son, but Sean dropped the coat and was after her, yanking at her long hair again, winding it round his hand. ‘We’ll do it my way!’ He started to pull her along. ‘Stop it!’ Stooped and tottering on her ridiculous heels, she still resisted him. ‘Get off me, Sean!’ she squawked, dipping and twisting her head to relieve the drag on her scalp. Traffic swished by on the damp road; cars, then a van, then a juggernaut, then more cars. None of them slowed. People on the opposite pavement were momentarily interested. A male voice bellowed something incomprehensible, followed by a laugh. No one was concerned about drunken argy-bargy outside a pub. The voices dwindled. A sudden babble came from inside the pub. Whoever had opened the door was likely to be similarly indulgent to a minor domestic dispute, but by now she was in real pain and the fear was growing. If she achieved nothing else it was worth trying to embarrass Sean in front of an audience. She screeched louder. ‘Stop it! You’re hurting me!’ ‘Shut the fuck up, slag!’ Moments passed as she writhed and ducked, scrabbling at his fingers clamped around the twisted hank of hair. A man’s voice chipped in. ‘What’s going on?’..........

Compelling Romance, Finely Written
TORN pulled me into the story of Jess from the very first paragraph. The book is a wonderful piece of prose from a gifted author with a unique voice. It is a romance with a twist, a slice from the life of Jessica Avery. On the one hand, TORN is about a thirty-something single mom who escapes a violently abusive relationship and the hassles of a stressful job in London, yearning for peace and stability in the country.

But on a deeper level, TORN is about the effects of abuse, the lurching starts and stops, the choices of an abused woman who in many ways is broken as she searches for a new life and a proper home for her child, stumbling along the way.

Listen to the rhythm of Ms. Allan's prose as Jess speaks:
"'Tonight marks a fresh start. A new life. And I'm determined to get it right this time.' With the words-and all the underlying unspoken implications-she felt the up-swell of elation, the utter conviction that re-making her life would be easy."

Jess's quest is more than she bargained for, however, and she falls into the arms of one man, only to fall into the arms of another.

TORN chronicles Jess's coming of age, if you will, her growth as a person, and the novel's scenes--those with her friends and with her child, Rory, who during the course of the narrative, has milestones of his own--include her romantic relationships with men in quite detailed and beautifully written prose. In fact, the sex scenes are masterfully written. A tightly-written novel, all the scenes, including those in the bedroom, have a purpose: they move the story along and illuminate the characters, especially Jess.

Ms. Allan has created a very complex character in Jess, totally believable, one who surprised and, at times, angered this reader, and the novel centers around her growth. And the minor characters, Danny, James, Rory, Sean have their own special voice. For those who want a compelling romance a finely written story told with rich prose, TORN by British author, Gilli Allan, is a must read.
Susan Anderson

Loved It
Wow - what a great title for a book in which I felt - absolutely torn!

Jess is a thirty something, single, hard working, hard playing ex city trader, who discovered that she was pregnant without knowing who the father was, and she met a policeman Sean who took on her and her son Rory. When bully Sean's mental and physical abuse became too much for her to handle, she left him and upped sticks to the country where she thought she could escape him once and for all.

One night while out having a drink with a friend, Sean turns up and starts to drag her around, and she is "rescued" by Danny and his friends, who are a group of hippy individuals. While out with her friends on New Year's Eve, she is strongly attracted to one of the guests and realises that it is Danny, who's new appearance is a delight to her and he ends up spending the night at her house. She discovers that he is only 19, yet her feelings for him develop throughout the book. She is also drawn to the man that Danny works for James - a widower with a young daughter who is Rory's best friend so they are thrown together on a number of occasions and their friendship also grows. Who does she choose and why? Don't ask me - you know I won't tell you. You'll have to read it for yourself and find out!

A charming book, in which you befried the main character Jess and just want her to be happy whatever it takes. She has a wonderful relationship with her young son Rory which having a young son the same age myself, I could totally relate to. Well written and perfectly developed characters make this an effortless and most enjoyable read, and you want to just keep on turning the pages to find out who she chooses, or if indeed she chooses either of them! The homes and places that Gilli portrays are so expertly created that you can completely picture them and envisage the scenes as they unfold.

I loved this book, it was emotional, sad, happy, funny and just generally fab!
Kim (the bookworm) Nash

Thoroughly Enjoyable Read!
Stepping from the world of high finance and a long-term abusive relationship with her ex, Jess has sought a safe haven for herself and that of her son. Unfortunately, when your ex is a cop it's twice as hard to evade detection. One unpleasant encounter with the man she now despises, and the sudden presence of a white knight, sets the scene for complications that might otherwise have passed her by in the throes of mere gratitude.

But her past bears witness to another dark secret, and one-night stands had always held certain appeal to Jess: no complication, no emotion and just walk away. She's single again, and why should the simple pleasure of having sex with her hero be anything different than before she became one of a pair? But her heart overrules her head and, the beginnings of an affair take precedence. Can she justify romance with a man ten years her junior, or is it wiser to settle for convention and the romantic overtures of a more mature suitor who has also walked centre stage? Confused by her present and past, her son her main priority, it seems only fair he should have a say in which direction his heart lies and which man has won his favour. Torn is a lovely, lovely, if a slightly disturbing read, for not all men are heroes and caring lovers within the same skin. Thoroughly enjoyable!
Francine Howarth