"Each choice and action made can either make or break you-in my case, it's left me with a gaping hole that I fill every day with guilt, shame, and regret. I should've saved him. I could've. But I didn't. Sometimes late at night when my demons haunt me, I wish I could go back. Back to when I was that naive, punk kid who thought the world was full of rainbows and butterflies. Back to where my soul didn't feel so stained and broken. But I can't. I have to live with my failures. And it doesn't matter how hard I run, there's no escaping my guilt." Cooper Hensley is the perfect front man for Damaged Souls. After returning from his time as a Marine, all he wants to do is to bury himself into the rock and roll lifestyle with music, alcohol, and one night stands. Chasing sweet oblivion to numb his pain, nothing can rattle his carefully guarded heart . . . that is until Caylee Sawyer comes looking for the man she believes a hero, the best friend of her dead husband. What she finds instead is someone broken, someone who needs to forgive himself and move on, someone who affects her so completely, she can't walk away. But can she convince him to lower his guard long enough for her to claim his heart? And when he does, will she be prepared for the consequences?

How do you piece together a broken soul—a spirit so crushed and battered from the weight of guilt and self loathing that the only conceivable way to keep breathing—to keep placing one foot in front of the other—is to erect four solid, impenetrable walls to protect your heart? Simple: you don’t. At least that’s what I thought. The change was almost too faint to notice at first but it began with her. It’s always been about her. Whether she knew it that night when she came to the bar and approached me after the show, I don’t know. But she started something inside me that I couldn’t fight or resist until it was too late. With her smile, her forgiveness, her friendship, Caylee Sawyer saved me that night and every day that followed. Patiently she showed me that the grief I’d buried under a mountain of a lifestyle of 'not-giving-a-damn' still needed an outlet—to be acknowledged. To be released. She saved me. I just hope I don’t screw it up.