Who Are The Main Characters In The Road To Memphis?

Danielle Harris is the daughter of an overprotective police chief and has led a sheltered life. As a kindergarten teacher, she’s as far removed from the world of Harleys and bikers as you could get, but when she’s rescued by the sexy and dangerous Austin Carver, her life is changed forever. Although Austin ‘Booker’ Carver is enamored by the innocent Dani, he tries to keep the police chief’s daughter at arm’s length. But when a threat is made from an unexpected source, he finds himself falling hard and fast for the only woman who can tame his wild heart. Will Booker be able to find the source of the threat before it’s too late? Will Dani finally give her heart to a man who’s everything she’s been warned about?

Jose Watson, a young man ostracized by his family due to his sexual orientation, found his life shattered after being betrayed by his own lover, Kent Morris. Wounded and desperate, Jose fled to the City of Meridian to build a new identity as Sebastian Allen. ​His life changed drastically after meeting Mateo Luca, who helped him get a job at the Bridge Log company. At work, Sebastian became involved in a complicated love triangle with two male friends, Luis Anderson and Jason Smith. Although he eventually chose Luis, Sebastian's happiness was disturbed by the evil conspiracy of Clara Taylor, Luis's ex-lover, who spread vicious slander to destroy his reputation. ​It did not stop there; Sebastian was dragged into corporate intrigue until he had to languish behind bars on charges of embezzlement that he never committed. At the lowest point of his life, he must engage in a hard struggle to clear his name amidst the barrage of slander and betrayal that never ends. ​Sebastian Allen now stands at a crossroads full of uncertainty. Will he be able to prove the truth and seize back his freedom from the snares of the conspiracy that bind him, or will he give in to fate and let those accusations destroy his own future forever?

Nova Jane found love at a young age, but as those things sometimes go, they took different directions in life. Nova married Rob and has been living a life she can't seem to escape. One where every decision feels like a minefield of Robs' moods, and anything can set him off. She fantasizes about her first love to get through the abuse until she can save enough money to get out. It was then that she was happy and carefree. It helps to daydream about it, but it also hurts that it's forever beyond her reach.

On the heavy traffic road rushing my father to the hospital due to a cerebral hemorrhage, we ran into my husband, who was directing traffic as a police officer. My mother was about to wind the window down and beg him for help, but I immediately stopped her and decisively turned the steering wheel, taking a narrow side road instead. In my previous life, at this exact situation, after a brief moment of hesitation, my husband had chosen to clear a path for us and personally escorted my father to the hospital. That very night, his childhood sweetheart, out of spite because he hadn't answered her calls, turned on the gas and killed herself. He seemed utterly unaffected by her death. He even organized a welcome-home party for my father when he was discharged from the hospital. But on the day of the party, he poisoned every dish on the table. "It's because of you and your damn father! If it weren't for you, Rosalin wouldn't have killed herself! You're the ones who drove her to death! You should pay for her life!" When I opened my eyes once more, I had returned to the day my father collapsed. This time, my husband answered the phone. Without a second thought, he ran to his childhood sweetheart. Yet, why had he still come to regret it?

A blizzard had buried the mountain, turning every road into a death trap. Locals called it Deadman's Pass—seventy-two icy switchbacks with zero room for error. As the only person who had ever made it through without a scratch, I'd just gotten a million-dollar rescue call from beyond the final curve. Ten years ago, I went there once. My seventeen-year-old daughter, Maya, was skydiving with her classmates when a violent air current forced an emergency landing. The rescue came too late. She died there. Later, I learned my husband, Jayden Boone, had ignored Maya's safety. He poured hundreds of thousands of dollars into the rescue effort and redirected every team to save his ex's daughter instead. The girl had only sprained her ankle on a hiking trip. The day Maya died, I walked away from my career as a professor and stayed here, living as a broke driver. I risked my life running Deadman's Pass again and again until I knew every turn by heart. In the ten years since, no one else had died on that road. Today, a friend shoved a million-dollar rescue job in front of me and told me to leave right away. I looked at the face in the photo—the one I could never forget. Then I smiled and tossed my keys onto the table. "I can't take this job."

By the seventh year of my engagement to Tristan, he postponed our wedding for the third time. The reason was simple. His childhood sweetheart, Gabriella, had returned to the country. She had just gone through a divorce and was emotionally unstable. Tristan personally retrieved every invitation we had sent out, his tone calm and steady. "Gabby has no one by her side right now. I can't upset her at a time like this." I held the ring that had already been resized twice and asked, "What about me?" Tristan glanced at me. "You're different. You're sensible." I had been hearing that word for seven years. Sensible. When his startup failed, I sold the old house my grandmother had left me to help him pay off his debts. When he suffered a gastric hemorrhage, I stayed at the hospital for three days straight and missed my own promotion defense. When his mother said my background was too ordinary for him, he only rubbed his temples and said, "Tori, don't make this difficult for me." Every time, I nodded. He once told me that no matter how thick the fog became, he would always leave a light on for me. Until the day Gabriella stood in front of the mirror wearing my wedding dress and smiled as she asked, "Victoria, you don't mind, do you? Tristan said your wedding's being postponed anyway." Tristan stood behind her. He did not deny it. He even reached out and adjusted her veil for her. The fog lamp he had given me with his own hands sat by the display window of the bridal shop. It was still lit, illuminating someone else in the white dress I had waited seven years to wear. Only then did I realize that some roads were not lost because the fog was too thick. It was because he had never planned to come for me at all.