The New York Times Bestselling Series

A trilogy full of heartbreak, second chances, and true love.

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Lost to You

Lost to You

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Signed copy of Lost to You (novella).

Lost to You Synopsis

The New York Times Bestselling Romance

People come into our lives. Some stay, and many go. Some build us up, while most tear us down. They become our friends, our enemies, our lovers, our tormentors. Christian Davison came into mine, and I knew I’d never be the same.

To Elizabeth Ayers, New York City had always been a dream. She’s worked her entire young life to make it here.

Groomed to one day take over his father’s law firm, attending Columbia University was Christian Davison’s only option.

Neither wanted anything more until they sat across from each other at a café table after being paired as study partners. Christian wants her, but Elizabeth knows better than to give into their intense attraction. Yet there is little she can do to stay away.

Lost to You and Take This Regret can be read as Stand-Alone Novels. Recommended reading order: Lost to You, Take This Regret, If Forever Comes

Take This Regret Synopsis

The New York Times Bestselling Second-Chance Romance from A.L. Jackson

There are some mistakes we make that we will regret for the rest of our lives.
For Christian, it was the day he betrayed Elizabeth.

Christian Davison has a plan for his life.
He is determined to become an attorney and to one day take his place as partner in his father’s law firm.
Nothing will stand in his way, not even Elizabeth Ayers and their unborn child.

Elizabeth is willing to sacrifice anything for her daughter.
She spends the next five years struggling to provide for her daughter a safe, comfortable life.

For five years, Christian has regretted the day he walked away from his family and will do anything to win them back.
When Christian wrestles his way into their lives, Elizabeth is faced with asking herself if it is possible to forgive someone when they’ve committed the unforgivable and if it is possible to find a love after it has been buried in years of hate.

Or are there some wounds that go so deep they can never heal? They say everyone deserves a second chance.

Lost to You and Take This Regret can be read as stand-alone novels. Recommended reading order: Lost to You, Take This Regret, If Forever Comes

If Forever Comes Synopsis

The final chapter in the New York Times Bestselling Series from A.L. Jackson

Christian Davison’s life is complete. With a ring on Elizabeth’s finger and his daughter at his side, he’s ready to run headlong into their future.

Elizabeth Ayers never believed she would again find this kind of joy—the joy of a family and the wholeness found in the touch of the man she’s always loved.

Their love is intense and their passion only grows as they set out to rediscover each other.

But life is never easy.

Rocked by the unforeseen, Christian and Elizabeth will find themselves fighting for the one thing they hold most important—family.

The Regret Series ~ Lost to You and Take This Regret can be read as stand-alone novels. If Forever Comes should be read after Take This Regret. Recommended reading order: Lost to You, Take This Regret, If Forever Comes

Read the First Chapter of Lost to You

She sat across from me, this
beautiful girl who had to be both the cutest and sexiest thing I’d ever seen. A
rich tenor rang in her words, this modest kind of confidence that sucked me in,
while her cheeks seemed to continually light with a gentle flush when she said
anything that embarrassed her in the slightest way.

A sublime contradiction, self-assured and shy.

How ironic it was her.

But really, I shouldn’t have been all that surprised. I
always knew what I wanted the moment it saw it.

Shifting against the hard wood of the chair, I leaned
forward and struggled to pay attention to the words she spoke as I stared,
mesmerized by that perfect mouth.

One elbow was propped on the table, her head tilted to the
side as she supported it with her fingertips. Sun-streaked waves of dark blonde
hair fell down around one side of her heart-shaped face as she thumbed through
the thick textbook resting on the table between us.

Concentration edged her brow, her pouty lips pulling into
a thin line whenever she became engrossed in something she read.

“Do you think you’re up for this?” she asked, sounding


No question.

I was up for all kinds of things.

Last night, I’d shared two short emails with her, and we’d
arranged to meet at this little café during the time we both had a break in our

Of course, at that time, I had no idea who my American
Government study partner would turn out to be. The little description she had
given, I’d scribbled on the note that was now crumpled in my front pocket.

Elizabeth Ayers, long, blonde hair.

At the bottom, I’d jotted down her cell phone number.

Yeah, I’d be holding on to that.

A groan of apparent dread slipped through her lips, and
the sound almost caused me to release one of my own.

“Are you sure? Because have you looked through this

She glanced up, then back at the small stapled pack of
papers laid out between us. “There’s going to be a ton of memorization. I’m
pretty sure this is going to be a pretty difficult class,” she said seriously,
completely focused on the information she was devouring as her eyes roved over
the page.

“You have no idea how happy I was to find that sign-up
sheet for a study partner. I don’t know about you, but I can’t afford to get a
bad grade in this class.” She scribbled something in her notebook, licked her
lips, rambled mostly to herself.

And I just stared.

Fifteen minutes ago, before I’d walked through the door of
the café and seen her, I’d been all wrapped up in this grade, too. I’d been
just as worried about who my partner would be. I’d figured it’d be my luck to
get paired with some loser who would take advantage of my time and my hard
work. I’d have dealt with it, too, sucked it up and worked my ass off because I
had no other choice.

There was no way in hell I’d give my dad another reason to
ride me because I had a grade slipping below his approval.

But no, I’d walked through the door and it was her.

Since then, I’d had a really hard time focusing on
anything but the fluid lilt of her voice and the amber warmth of her soft brown

Shock had frozen me in the doorway when I walked through
the door of the café and was met with the face of the same girl I hadn’t been
able to shake from my mind since the first day of our American Government class
last week.

When the class had been dismissed, I gathered my things
and stood to leave. Looking up to make my way down the aisle of steps, I’d
glimpsed just the side of her face when she’d cast a furtive glance behind her
as she’d been heading out the door.

My breath had caught.

Since then that face had slipped in and out of my mind,
creeping into my thoughts, making recurrent appearances in my dreams.

My reaction to her had been just as strong when I walked
through the door today.

Girls didn’t do this me. And she’d managed it twice.
Sitting across from her now, I knew I had to have her.

Even if it was only once.

Pausing, she looked up at me, her eyes narrowed in what
appeared both humor and mild agitation. “Christian, did you hear anything I
said?” she asked, her gaze wandering my face for an answer. “Please tell me
you’re not going to make me do all this work myself.” 

I attempted to shake off the visceral reaction that had my
body itching to take what I instinctively knew would be mine. “Of course, I
heard you. Class is going to be a ton of work. I’m good with that.” I grinned
at her. “And no, I’m not going to make you do all the work.”

I nudged her foot under the table with mine, flashing the
same smile I’d learned years ago was the surest way to get what I wanted. And
what I wanted right then was her. “What kind of guy do you think I am?”

Heat rose to her cheeks. I could almost feel her warmth
radiating across my face in confused waves, this sweet shyness that seemed to
be lacking from every other girl I’d run across since I came to this city.
Lacking in every girl I’d come into contact with in the last four years,

I could feel the attraction that mingled with it, though
it was flanked by a strong current of self-preservation.

“I haven’t figured that out yet,” she said as she
straightened and pitched her head to the side. She slowly tapped the backside
of her pen on her notepad, studying me for intent.

Her steady gaze locked on me, as if she contemplated who
or what I was, while mine was unruly, my eyes wandering on their own accord.

They traveled the curved line of her jaw, down her neck,
to the expanse of perfect skin exposed above the V of her T-shirt.

Could anyone blame me that I wanted to bury my face there?

I wondered how long it’d be before she let me.

When I brought my attention back up, her expression had
shifted and she sat back, a knowing smirk settling on her face, though it
seemed to be hiding something deeper in the warmth of her honey eyes.

It looked a whole lot like disappointment.

An unfamiliar feeling curled in my stomach.


I looked away, down at my hands clenched together on the
table in front of me.

Everything about her swam with innocence, but her eyes
were too sharp to speak of naivety. She knew exactly what I was thinking as my
gaze caressed the soft slope of her neck. Most girls would be crawling all over
me by now, but Elizabeth looked like maybe she’d just decided she didn’t want
anything to do with me.

Swallowing, I tried to reel myself in.

I was fucking this all up, and I had no idea why I cared.

But I did.

I mean, I didn’t want a relationship or anything, but I
wanted . . . something. The expression on Elizabeth’s face told me she’d
already decided what that was.

Yeah. Definitely fucking this up.  . . .

She went back to flipping through the pages, meticulous as
she mapped out our study plan for the semester. She asked me several questions
about my strengths, my schedule, when and where I preferred to have our study

Even though she was so obviously worried about her grade,
there was no doubt in my mind she was going to ace this class.

“Where are you from, Elizabeth?” The words were abrupt,
and I shifted in my seat, leaning farther across the small table with my elbows
digging into the wood, edging her direction.

Honey kissed every inch of her—her hair, her eyes, her
skin—and I knew she couldn’t be from around here.

“Uh . . . San Diego,” she said almost absently, absorbed
in the words she wrote, before she surprised me by stopping and looking up at
me with a wistful smile. “I lived there my whole life. This is the first time
I’ve been out of California. I still can’t believe I’m in New York City. It’s

With a small, contented shake of her head, she bit at her
lip and picked up where she’d left off, the fluid sweep of her hand across the
paper as she planned.

“This is the first time you’ve been out of California?”
Incredulity dropped from my mouth. How was that even possible?

I’d traveled the world with my parents, forced to go on
trip after boring trip. When I was young, I would get excited as I sat in a
first-class seat on the plane, antsy to get into the air, to see new things—for
my father to be there.

But soon I realized it was always the same.

Me stuck alone in a huge hotel room, playing my old
Nintendo Game Boy with a nanny I didn’t even know, while my parents went off to
do whatever they did.

Vague memories of my mother’s promises lingered in my
mind, but they were always an excuse, a lame apology that next time she would
take me sightseeing or to a theme park or some other cool place I wanted to go.

By the time I was fifteen, whenever they went out of town,
I refused to go with them.

“I guess that’s not normal for most people,” she said,
“but my mom raised me and my sisters by herself, so there wasn’t a lot of money
left for vacations.” She lifted her head and I could see her face. A gentle
casualness framed her mouth, something that spoke of respect and grace.

My mother would have rather died than admit she lacked the
money for something. But here was this girl who couldn’t be more than eighteen,
laying it all out, setting her private world on display.

And without an agenda.

A tiny laugh slipped through Elizabeth’s lips. “But we
always had our beach.”

For a second, sadness clouded her features, an almost
indiscernible twitch of her muscles.

“You miss it,” I blurted through a whisper. It wasn’t a
question. I felt it as it suddenly saturated the air around us.

Shrugging, she began to doodle on the margin of her
notepad. “That obvious, huh?” She grimaced a smile. “It just kinda hit me a
couple of days ago. I’ve never been away from home, and here I am, all the way
across the country with no friends or family. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I
worked my entire life to get here, and I’m beyond thankful for it.”

She wet her lips, swallowed, and averted her gaze as she
hunched her shoulders. “I just really miss my mom.”

Something that resembled pain struck me deep in the chest.
I was so far out of my element, a million miles from what I knew.

What I knew were girls who wanted the exact thing I

Ones who climbed in my bed without a second thought.

Our intentions were never dishonest, and that was where it
always ended. I never pretended I would give them any more. And they never
pretended they wanted anything more from me, either.

But right then, the only thing I knew was I really wanted
to hug this girl.

I didn’t even know her, though it didn’t take a lot for me
to realize I wanted to.

“Hey,” I said as I leaned in low to capture her gaze,
sliding my palm across the table to rest next to her notebook. My fingers
twitched, and I resisted the urge to take her hand that lay an inch away.
“You’re not alone.”

I raised a brow, lightening my tone in hope of lightening
her mood. “Just think of all the time you’re going to have to spend studying
with me.”

Her head was still bowed when she laughed and looked up at
me from under the hedge of hair that had fallen like a veil to the side of her
face, though the sadness that had temporarily hazed her expression was gone.

She smiled, and it was as if I could see everything inside
of her.

In that moment, I had this strange sense that I knew her
better than I’d ever known anyone, even though I really didn’t know her at all.

Elizabeth was strong and driven, incredibly intelligent,
but what was most apparent was she was genuinely kind.

She emitted a slight snort and raised her own brow. “I
don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, Christian.”

It was all tease and truth, playful words loaded with
innuendo that confirmed she’d already made assumptions about me.

“How about you?” she asked. “You’re from here?”

“Nah, I’m from Virginia.”

“Virginia.” She seemed to ponder it as if it were some
foreign, exotic place. “So what brought you to New York?”

I laughed low, but it lacked any humor. “I’ve known I
would be going to Columbia since I was a little boy.”

There was never any choice. Anything less and all my
father’s careful grooming, priming me for the future he’d picked out for me,
would have all been in vain.

Frowning, she reached out to wrap her slender fingers
around her coffee mug and sipped at it as she waited for me to continue.

I answered her as simply as I could. “My dad went here.”

“Ah.” She nodded as if she understood what I meant, as if
she recognized she’d hit a nerve. She looked like she was tempted to ask me

I quickly changed the subject. My parents were the last
thing I wanted to talk about. “So what about you? Why New York?”

She got that wistful smile again, her eyes soft and her
words softer. “It’s kind of embarrassing, but have you ever had a place that
just became a fairy tale to you?”

I blinked, not really understanding, but wishing I could.
I offered a little shrug. “No. Not really.”

Definitely not.

She reddened again, dipping her chin in the way she did
every time she seemed to get self-conscious. “New York has always been like
that for me, from the time I was a little girl. I always thought it had to be
the most amazing place in the world. Then when I decided I wanted to be an
attorney, I knew it had to be Columbia.”

“Wait . . . what? You’re pre-law?”

She nodded.

Could she be any more perfect for me?

And where the hell did that thought come from?

“Me too,” I said.

She sat up, both of us more excited than we probably
needed to be. “Really?”

“Yeah . . . you know, my dad’s headed a firm for years.
Real estate. I’m going to take over for him when he retires.”

“Oh God . . . that’s amazing.” She was grinning, maybe
happy for me. Maybe happy to find out we had more in common than we’d initially

“What are you going into?” I asked.

She was still smiling, her body vibrating in her seat.
“I’m not sure yet. Some sort of family law . . . I want to work for the state
or a non-profit.” Passion poured from her mouth, her heavy exhale thick with
emotion. She hugged herself, as if she were imagining herself there, what her
future would be like. “Something where I can help kids.” Her face glowed. “An
advocate of some kind. I don’t know.”

She shrugged, but clearly not because she didn’t care. It
didn’t have to be perfect. It just had to be right.

I was floored.

I’d never met anyone like her.

I knew what those jobs paid. Obviously, Elizabeth did too.
She was after the worst position any attorney could ever have, what my father
called scrounge work.

For years, he pounded it into my psyche that it would be
required before I made it to the top. He wouldn’t even consider allowing me
into his firm until I’d spent at least two years scrubbing. I expected it to be
the two worst years of my life.

And it appeared to be Elizabeth’s ultimate goal.

For my dad, it wasn’t about giving back. It was about
paying dues. He wanted to see me scrape the bottom of the barrel so I’d
understand what he was giving me when he ultimately handed me a job on a silver

“What?” she asked when she noticed my expression.
Confusion dimmed the light that had glimmered from her face.

I stared at her for too long, my mouth dry and my palms
wet. How badly I wanted to climb inside her, to really understand her, to know
what it’d feel like not to be driven by money and greed.

But the last thing I wanted was her to see inside of me.

I shook my head. “Nothing. That’s just . . . really cool,

“Thanks, Christian.” A humble smile tugged at the corner
of her mouth. She flipped the textbook shut and shoved the syllabus into a
folder. “I need to get going. Are we good to meet here on Monday, then? Same
time?” she asked.

Monday was five days from now. Something inside me
protested. I didn’t want to wait that long to see her again.

“What are you doing Friday night?”

“Me? Studying.” She emitted a low laugh and shook her head
as if anticipating what I would say next.

“How about you go out to dinner with me instead?” I asked
her anyway. I smiled that smile again.

“That’s not going to happen.” Red colored her cheeks, but
she seemed to be fighting a smile. She gathered a few loose papers and tapped
the bottom edge of the pile on the table to straighten them.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not the kind of girl you’re looking for.”

“And how do you know what kind of girl I’m looking for?”

She sat back in her chair, leveling her gaze on me.

I fidgeted under it.

All traces of that shyness were gone and set in its place
was a steely determination as she lifted her chin high. “Okay then, Christian,
answer me something.”

I tilted my head. I was so going to regret agreeing to
this, but I couldn’t help but bite. “All right.”

A smile danced in her brown eyes. “How long have you been
in New York?”

I let out the breath I was holding. Okay, that was easy.
Relieved, I inched a little closer. “My parents had me moved up here at the
beginning of the summer. They said they wanted me to have a chance to get used
to my surroundings. I figure they just wanted me out of their hair.”

She nodded subtly, her brow cinched together as if she’d
been struck with some unknown suspicion.

“Are you happy here?” whispered from her mouth as if she
were asking me to reveal my darkest secret.

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden intensity of her
voice. “Anywhere is better than spending another minute in my parents’
house.”  I answered her honestly because
I found I didn’t know how to lie to the girl sitting across from me.

For a second, her expression softened, and she just nodded
as she held my gaze. I was pretty sure I’d never felt more exposed than I did
in that single moment.

She cleared her throat and looked away, breaking the
connection. When she looked back up, everything had shifted, the same challenge
glinting in her eyes. “And how many girls have you slept with since you got

Oh shit. Of course, she had to ask the one question I
didn’t want to answer, voicing the judgment she’d already cast.

“Uh . . . um . . .” I stumbled, then bit down on my bottom
lip, shaking my head as I released a self-conscious laugh.

She crossed her arms over her chest, the smile at the edge
of her mouth lifting. “What? You can’t count that high, or you don’t want to
tell me?”

Her tone was light, an easy mirth at my expense.

But I could see it, set there in the perfect lines of her
face that I wanted nothing more than to trace with the tips of my fingers. She
really cared about my answer. She’d baited me, strung me up, and left me with
nowhere to hide.

Red-faced, I scratched the back of my neck, knowing no
matter what answer I gave, it’d be the wrong one. If I lied, she’d know, and I
knew there was no way she’d be okay with the truth.

“Come on, Elizabeth . . . I just asked if you wanted to go
to dinner with me.”

“So, you’re saying you don’t want to sleep with me?”

Frustration tumbled from my mouth in a strained groan.
Still, I couldn’t lie to her.

Like it wasn’t obvious how badly I wanted to take her back
to my place and coax that blush from every inch of her body. “That’s not what I

She leaned down to her backpack that was sitting on the
floor and slid her things into it. Her face was lifted to look up at me as she
did. “Well, then, Christian, I think it’s safe to say I’m not the kind of girl
you’re looking for.”

The sharp peal of her zipper announced her departure.

I really couldn’t remember ever being turned down before.
I’m sure I had, but it’d made little impact on me, something forgotten as I’d
immediately moved on to the next and better thing.

This slammed me.

I could do nothing but stare at Elizabeth as she stood and
slung her backpack over her shoulders. It wasn’t a sensation I was familiar
with, the bite of rejection, but now it had me pinned to my chair.

Why the hell did this bother me so much?

She reached up and pulled out her hair trapped by her
backpack, gripping the bulk of it in a fist that she ran down the length. It
spread out in a soft wave over one shoulder as she released it.

I swallowed.

God, looking at this girl and not being able to touch her
was complete torture.

“I’ll see you around,” she said, taking a step toward the
door. She twisted to look at me, walking backward as she spoke. “If you don’t
find anything better to do Friday, I’ll be studying. You have my number.”

She grinned, and all I could do was laugh. I was
definitely not expecting that.

She spun back around, and for the first time, I was able
to appreciate her perfect ass in those tight jeans.

No, I definitely didn’t have anything better to do on
Friday night.


I was in so much trouble.

“It’s a date,” I hurried to call after her.

She swung the door open, shaking her head with a small
laugh. “No, Christian, it’s not.”

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