An emotionally charged contemporary romance about an internationally best-selling novelist and a federal agent fighting to heal past wounds.
Intrigued? Well read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Patricia Leavy’s Shooting Stars Above, which is out March 18th 2025.
Tess Lee is a world-famous novelist. Her inspirational books explore people’s innermost struggles and the human need to believe that there is light at the end of the tunnel—but despite her extraordinary success, she’s been unable to find personal happiness. Jack Miller is a federal agent working in counterterrorism. After spending decades immersed in a violent world, a residue remains. He’s dedicated everything to his job, leaving nothing for himself.
The night Tess and Jack meet, their connection is palpable. She examines the scars on his body and says, “I’ve never seen anyone whose outsides match my insides.” The two embark on an epic love story, but old traumas soon rise to the surface as Jack struggles with the death of a loved one and Tess is forced to confront her childhood abuse. Can unconditional love help heal their invisible wounds? Together, will they be able to move from darkness to light?
“So, what do you do?” she asked.
“I’m a federal agent with the Bureau—counterterrorism. I joined the military right out of high school, Special Forces. I was in the field, often deep undercover, until about a year ago, when I took a desk job as the head of my division.”
“Wow, you’re like the real-life Jack Bauer. You even look a little like him, with that whole rugged, handsome hero thing you have going on,” she said.
He blushed and ran his hand through his light brown hair. “I promise you I’m no Jack Bauer, even on my best day. People thought that character was so tragic, but the real tragedy is that Jack Bauer doesn’t exist, and you’re stuck with guys like me.”
She smiled. “What made you choose that line of work?”
“My parents raised me and my siblings to value community, to be patriotic. My father was in the military and then became a firefighter. The idea of service always seemed important. I wanted to serve my country, to protect people. It’s hard to explain, but when I see someone innocent being threatened, I’m willing to do whatever is necessary to protect them. I know it sounds cliché, but I feel like it’s my purpose in life.”
“That’s noble,” she remarked.
He shook his head. “The lived reality often isn’t. When you spend most of your life in the abyss, it gets pretty dark.”
“A residue remains, right?” she asked.
He looked at her intently, a little surprised. “Yes, exactly.”
“I understand. You convince yourself it’s all been for something that matters more than you do, that whatever part of yourself you sacrificed was worth it, because it simply has to be.”
He looked at her as if she had read his innermost thoughts. “Yes,” he said softly. “Tell me, what do you do?”
“I’m a novelist.”
“What are your books about?”
“That’s a difficult question to answer. I guess I wanted to write about everything: what it means to live a life, why it’s so hard, and how it could be easier. To walk people through the darkness, in a way. Perhaps my goals were too lofty, and in that respect, each book fails more spectacularly than the one before.”
The bartender smirked.
Tess wistfully said, “Maybe reality can never live up to our dreams.”
They continued talking, completely engrossed with one another. Two hours later, Jack said, “I live nearby. Do you want to come over for a cup of coffee?”
Tess looked him straight in his warm eyes. “I’d love to.”
He threw some money down on the bar to cover both tabs. The bartender said, “Ms. Lee, are you sure you’re all right? I can call you a cab.”
“You’re very kind, but I’m fine. Thank you.”
Jack opened the door and held it for Tess. “Do you know the bartender?”
“Just met him tonight,” she replied.
“Down this way,” Jack said, taking her hand as if it were completely natural. They approached a homeless man on the corner asking for money. Tess walked right up to him, pulled a twenty-dollar bill from her pocket, and handed it to him. She held his hand as she passed the bill, looked in his sunken eyes, and said, “Be well.”
As they walked away, Jack said, “That was really sweet, but you should be more careful.”
“I trust my instincts,” she replied.
When they arrived at Jack’s small apartment, he took her coat. She glanced around and noticed the walls were completely bare. “How long have you lived here?” she asked.
“About nine years,” he replied. “Can I get you some coffee or something else to drink?”
She shook her head slowly and meandered over to his bedroom. He followed and they stood face-to-face, looking deeply into each other’s eyes. He took the back of her head in his hand and started to kiss her, gently and then with increasing passion. She slipped her hands under the hem of his shirt and pulled it off, and they continued kissing. As he leaned back to admire her, she noticed the scars on his muscular body: two on his right shoulder, another on his abdomen, and smaller marks along his upper arms. When he noticed her looking, he turned around to lower the light, revealing the gashes across his back. She lightly brushed her fingers along the deep marks.
“I’m sorry,” he said, turning to face her. “War wounds. A couple of gunshots. Some other stuff from when I was in the Gulf and later doing undercover work. I know it’s gruesome.”
“It’s wonderful,” she whispered.
“What?” he said.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that I’ve never seen anyone whose outsides match my insides.”
He looked at her sympathetically.
“I was abused when I was little. My grandfather and my uncle. It started when I was eight. No one can see my wounds, but they’re there.”
He stood still, looking into her doe eyes as if time had stopped and she were the only person in the world.
“I’m so sorry. I’ve never shared that with any man I’ve been with in my entire life, and I just met you. That has to be the least sexy thing ever. I’ll leave,” she stammered, trying to move past him.
He took her hand and pulled her back toward him. They stared into each other’s eyes, piercing straight through layers of pain, to the pure soul hidden away, waiting to be discovered. He cupped her delicate heart-shaped face in his hands, gently caressed her cheeks, and leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. They stood with their foreheads pressed together for a long intimate moment, just breathing. Jack drew back and lightly brushed his lips against hers. She reciprocated and they began kissing again. He slowly untucked her shirt and pulled it over her head as her hair fell in cascades, and then he unhooked her lace bra in one motion. He kissed her mouth, ear, and neck before moving down to her breasts, gently licking her pale pink nipples. She unbuttoned her jeans and he helped her shimmy out of them, slowly peeling off her underwear before removing the rest of his clothes. They ran their hands over each other’s bodies, climbed into bed, and made love with their eyes locked, no words spoken.
Afterward, he held her in his arms, and they exchanged tender kisses. “That was so special,” he whispered. “I know it’s crazy to say this, but I’ve never felt this kind of connection before.”
“Me either,” she whispered in return.
“Spend the day with me tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she replied, and they fell asleep, their limbs entangled.
