COVER REVEAL

Book Title: The Harder We Fall
Author: Rebecca Raine
Cover Artist: Bec Rivers
Release Date: March 29, 2021
Genre: MM Romance
Trope: Hurt/Comfort
Themes: Grief, Penance, Personal Growth
Heat Rating: 4 flames
Length: 70,000 words
It is a standalone book.

For years, Iâve been bound by sleeplessness and sorrow. His voice threatens to set me free.
Blurb
Insomnia. Itâs part of the penance I pay for my greatest mistake. But when an ill-timed doze behind the wheel of my car nearly introduces me to a pole, I know something has to change.
Sleep with Me, a locally-made meditation app, promises a cure. I donât expect it to work. Nor do I expect to become enthralled by the voice of its creator, Sam Stephenson. His ability to coax forth my nightly surrender is unnerving. I have to meet this man and learn the secret behind his techniques, so I can evict him from my headâand still get a good nightâs sleep.
In person, the quiet and reclusive Sam is his own kind of complicated. He needs my business skills as much as I need his meditation skills and we forge an unlikely partnership. But the attraction between us soon flares into passion and, as we grow closer, I start to long for more than my guilty conscience will allow.
I have no right to love, not after the damage Iâve done. How can I give Sam all he deserves, when our chance at a happy ending was ruined before we even met?

Excerpt
âYou know, openly gay men donât usually spend so much time in a closet.â
He grins, glancing at the walls surrounding us. âIt never occurred to me to spend time in the metaphorical closet. Mum accepted me, I assumed others would, too. Which hasnât always been the case, but I have no regrets there.â His eyebrows lift in question. âWhat about you?â
âFor a while,â I say with a shrug. âThen I got caught kissing a boy while drunk at a high school party. There wasnât much point denying it after that?â
âDid the other students give you a hard time?â
A bitter laugh bubbles up through my chest but I tamp it down. âSometimes. But they had better reasons to hate me. I was used to people talking behind my back, staring when I walked past. Being out didnât change my life overly much.â
Sam frowns as he puts a hand over mine on my knee. The questions are there in his eyes. Why did people hate you? What happened? What did you do?
His mouth opens, but I beat him to the punch. âYou use this place for more than recording now?â
He stops, and then a barely perceptible nod acknowledges my right to keep my past to myself. âI do,â he says, looking around the room. âThereâs so much I struggle to do. Talking to new people, going out, doing stuff. Itâs tiring, always having to work so hard to do things other people do without thought. When Iâm in here, I can just be.â He smiles, and thereâs an ease to it Iâve never seen before.
âWhen youâre leading your class, you make it seem so easy. Sitting there, being you. Like nothing can touch you.â
He watches me for a long moment. âYour thoughts canât hurt you, Tristan. Not by themselves.â Heâs said those words to me before, but apparently I need reminding.
âMy thoughts could,â I whisper. âIf I let them. Iâm not brave like you.â
Both our hands are joined now, our fingers threaded together over my knees. This time, the tremor isnât coming from his side. Why am I saying these things? He brought me here to show me his sanctuary, and Iâm treating it like a confessional.
âYou are brave,â he says with quiet insistence. âI know youâre scared. But youâre here, asking for help when you need it. Thatâs brave.â A new depth has crept into his tone as weâve talked. A commanding gentleness I recognise.
âYour voiceâŠâ I take a shaky breath, my mouth twitching at the corners. âMy siren has arrived.â
His expression turns bashful as he ducks his head. âI didnât mean to.â
âNo, donât stop.â My grip on him tightens. âPlease.â
Meeting my gaze, he nods. âIt doesnât usually happen spontaneously. Only when Iâm recording or teaching a class. Itâs this place, I suppose. I feel safe here.â As he speaks, his thumbs stroke my palms and I shiver.
âHaving me here doesnât spoil the feeling?â
âNo.â A touch of awe glints in the blue. âI think, maybe, I feel safe with you, too.â
I donât move when he lets go of my hands and raises up off the cushion so he can scoot closer. I donât move when he extends his legs over my still folded ones, so his calves bracket my hips and his feet touch down behind me. Heâs not actually in my lap, his arse is still on the floor in front of me, but itâs a close thing.
I donât move as he reaches out to touch my cheeks, stroking his thumbs over them. My own hands remain on my knees, my fingers digging in there. I donât move, but my heart is a wild thing in my chest and my breathing is laboured. Shudders rack my body as he brushes his nose against mine. When his breath fans across my lips, I still donât move. But I close my eyes, and I wait.
His closed lips touch mine. Theyâre soft and tentative. Barely pressing against me. Theyâre hopeful lips, in search of a response.
I move to give him one.
About the Author

Rebecca is a long-time lover of all things romance. Whether itâs a book, movie, or real life, she will always have more fun if thereâs a love interest thrown into the mix. She lives in Queensland, Australia with her very own hero husband, two quirky kids and one big, black dog. Other than reading and writing books, her favourite things include loud music, enjoying a glass of wine on the patio, organising everything in existence, and spending too much time on the Internet.
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