Stepping onto the ice was frightening. Doing so required trust … and not just that of her feet. It also involved Cate’s head and heart. Trusting meant she had to forget what happened in the past.

   At twenty-two years old, Cate Lentz is starting to understand Noah’s comparison of skating to a dance. The same, she realizes, can be said about life itself. You have to release the walls surrounding you in order to feel light and free. You also need the right partner. With the NHL rookie at her side, Cate is beginning to see a new and exciting life-canvas in front of her—similar to the paintings she creates in her art studio.

   But as smooth as ice is, everyone tumbles and falls sometimes. When her ex, Leo, makes a reappearance in Cate’s life, his mental instability creates such turmoil and heartache that it’s hard for her to stand back up. Can she find a way to dance again after tragedy strikes?

   Pulling at heartstrings and dealing with realistic issues, The Dance is a gripping tale that travels the reader back to the year 1980. This emotional story will leave you with a true appreciation for being both independently strong but also grateful for those who are by your side … no matter what.


   Glancing at the paper, I mentally acknowledged it was, indeed, a local number. And I resigned myself to the fact of his new residency. “Okay. Um, Noah and I need to go.”

     There weren’t any “nice seeing you agains” between us or “nice meeting yous” between the men. The fact was, I hadn’t even introduced them. Although, I was pretty sure both guys understood each other’s role in my life. There was only silence as Noah opened the passenger door for me and then walked around the car to get into his side. Leo stood once again against the gallery wall, with his hands shoved into his front pockets.

     As we drove farther away, the image of my ex in the rearview mirror got to the small point in a perspective drawing known as the vanishing point. Even though I could no longer see him, I knew he was not gone. I could definitely sense him … and I wanted that to go away, too.

     Like a near savage, I tore out the elastic band holding back my hair and flung it out the window. It was cathartic but not what I needed most. “Noah … hand.” It came out part demand, part plea, as I extended my left arm in his direction.

     Silent until then, he looked over at me, paused for a beat, and then spoke softly but directly. “You didn’t want it a few minutes or so ago.”

     Oh, man. In addition to the unnerving feeling of the unexpected encounter with Leo, I was emotionally toppled knowing I had, unwillingly, hurt Noah. “I’m sorry. It wouldn’t have gone over well with him, but, believe me, I did. You have no idea how mu—” As I started the last word, his hand encapsulated mine protectively, as if we were on ice and I was in danger of falling down a hill at the same time.


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