It's about time I wrote a book about my second husband. Just published a Thomas Shelby book.
"And then Chiara saw him.
Her breath caught.
Thomas Shelby.
He stood apart from the others, his cap shadowing those piercing blue eyes. For four years, she had carried a quiet flame for him, replaying memories of the boy who once sat patiently teaching her English words when her accent left her red-faced and near tears. The boy who had smiled at her in the cafe, whose laughter had once been warm.
But the man standing before her was not that boy.
His shoulders were tense, his jaw tight, his lips pressed into a firm, unreadable line. His uniform hung on him like armor he hadn't removed, and his eyes, those blue eyes that once sparkled, were cold, hollow, unreachable. In that moment, Chiara understood. Thomas Shelby had died in France. Whatever had returned to Birmingham was someone else entirely."
https://www.wattpad.com/1571429458-black-beauty-%E0%AD%A8%E0%A7%8E-thomas-shelby-black-beauty