I honestly don't know if Sarina Bowen is a genius who has all these amazing book plots all planned out a million books in advance or if she just has the most incredible talent that just makes everything work to perfection. But either way Silas and Delilah were magic.
Silas has been one of my favourites forever and his love of Delilah Spark music was so endearing. But I never even imagined their was such a sweet history between them.
And the flash backs were written so perfectly that I was right there with them both. Not to mention having this told in both points of view made me fall for them both immediately. I honestly felt like I went on a holiday to the ocean and sat at the bar watching Delilah and Silas fall in love.
Of course the new secondary characters were great but catching up with the team was even better. I love seeing them moving forward in the background of a new story. The only small thing I want changed is for Mr Muscles to stay in the story. I would love a bit more of him.
This whole book has made me feel all warm and swoony and I really wish I had a whole heap more of them to read. I am such a massive fan of Sarina Bowen, she just never disappoints.
Courting Kate
Tori Kron
(Panthers Players, #1)
Published by: Acorn Publishing
Publication date: June 23rd 2019
Genres: Adult, Romance, Sports
Tori Kron
(Panthers Players, #1)
Published by: Acorn Publishing
Publication date: June 23rd 2019
Genres: Adult, Romance, Sports
Slapped with court ordered community service for brawling—again, Miller Cassidy, the Indianapolis Panther’s star player, is forced into laboring under stodgy non-profit supervisor, Kate Gallagher. Her saving grace—she happens to be best friends with Stella, the woman he’s been chasing for years.
Despite the masses falling for his charm, Kate doesn’t care for Miller’s notorious reputation or his flippant behavior. But wanting to impress her strict boss, she agrees to a trade that could give them both a shot at success.
Propelled into an unlikely alliance, Miller finds himself taking a defensive stance when he sees beyond Kate’s hard exterior. And Kate is equally thrown off guard when she discovers there’s more to Miller than games.
But is love worth sacrificing friendship? And can Miller let go of the feelings for Stella he’s held onto for years?
In love and basketball, it’s five fouls and you’re out, and every play counts.
Excerpt
“I don’t care if he goes to jail,” Kate replied.
“But I do,” Stella said, wrapping Kate’s bicep. “Despite his many flaws, this player is my friend, and I’m asking you, one of my best friends, to help me help him.”
Kate’s head shook with disbelief. Stella pushed the envelope in every aspect of life, but this was beyond her typical crazy. For some reason, this meant more to Stella than the average deal.
“Please.” Stella’s palms pulled together into a praying pose. “You’re the best person I know. I think you could be a good influence on him.”
“Why do you care so much?” Kate asked.
Stella wasn’t really the touchy, feely type, so Kate found it odd that her friend was so invested in Miller’s personal success. Unless her level of care went beyond a work relationship.
Kate’s blue eyes tapered as her head titled to study Stella in her agitated state. “Do you like this guy?”
“No,” Stella snipped. Her dark pupils darted to the coarse sidewalk while her fingers fidgeted with the clasp of her small purse.
“I can tell by your face that’s a lie.” Moving in front of Stella, Rin gave her friend the stare down. “Oh my, are you dating< him?”
“I don’t date Panther players. It’s unprofessional,” Stella defended, folding her arms across her chest. Though the streetlights highlighted the flush that rushed to her cheeks.
“Oh, Stella,” Kate’s gaze sank to the sidewalk as her head slumped. “Why him?”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Rin’s faded jeans sank into the window beside Stella. “It’s not like we would have advertised it to the world.”
“Miller has a terrible reputation. Besides that, what would the franchise do if they found out?”
“They might not care,” Rin said.
“It doesn’t matter now.” Stella stared down the city block. “It’s not a thing anymore.”
“But you want it to be a thing again?” Kate inquired because Stella’s rare emotional state was difficult to decipher. “That’s why you need my help?”
“I don’t know what I want,” Stella said, combing her fingers through her long mahogany curls. “But either way, Miller has to change his ways for good or his career is going to go down the drain. I care enough that I can’t sit by and just let that happen.”
Moving to the large window wall that hovered over the downtown sidewalk, Kate’s hip leaned into the glass by Stella, who, for the first time, looked defeated. Rin hovered over Stella’s shoulder with a sorrowful gaze. Being enamored herself, she was always on love’s side.
But Rin had never been burned by men the way Kate had. Neither had Stella. Having suffered from her father’s lack of care in her teenage years, Kate never wanted her friends to know what it was like to feel unimportant. To feel unsupported in a time of need. So despite her better judgement, Kate had no choice but to help Stella in her impossible task of taming Miller Cassidy. Even if it meant putting herself on the line.
“If he screws up on my watch, you know Marlene is going to use that as an excuse to fire me.”
Stella’s long lashes flicked up as an amber ring of hope flared in her dark eyes. “Does that mean you’ll do it?”
Kate’s lips pursed for a long moment before she spoke. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this, but if it will make you happy, I’ll see if I can push him through as a volunteer. Bypass some of the normal paperwork.”
A smile lifted on Stella’s lips as she wrapped her thin arms around her friend’s pencil like torso. “Thank you so much. I owe you.”
Kate returned the embrace while negative headlines flashed through her mind. “So big. More than margaritas.”
“He’s really not as bad as he seems.” Stella pulled away, her beam, now luminescent. “You’ll see.”
“I’m sure.”
But she wasn’t. Cassidy seemed like nothing but trouble. Still, Stella believed in Kate’s abilities to reform the basketballer, so surely she was capable. Yet, a question tugged at Kate’s mind. If fierce and ferocious Stella couldn’t keep Miller Cassidy in line, how the hell was Kate supposed to?
“But I do,” Stella said, wrapping Kate’s bicep. “Despite his many flaws, this player is my friend, and I’m asking you, one of my best friends, to help me help him.”
Kate’s head shook with disbelief. Stella pushed the envelope in every aspect of life, but this was beyond her typical crazy. For some reason, this meant more to Stella than the average deal.
“Please.” Stella’s palms pulled together into a praying pose. “You’re the best person I know. I think you could be a good influence on him.”
“Why do you care so much?” Kate asked.
Stella wasn’t really the touchy, feely type, so Kate found it odd that her friend was so invested in Miller’s personal success. Unless her level of care went beyond a work relationship.
Kate’s blue eyes tapered as her head titled to study Stella in her agitated state. “Do you like this guy?”
“No,” Stella snipped. Her dark pupils darted to the coarse sidewalk while her fingers fidgeted with the clasp of her small purse.
“I can tell by your face that’s a lie.” Moving in front of Stella, Rin gave her friend the stare down. “Oh my, are you dating< him?”
“I don’t date Panther players. It’s unprofessional,” Stella defended, folding her arms across her chest. Though the streetlights highlighted the flush that rushed to her cheeks.
“Oh, Stella,” Kate’s gaze sank to the sidewalk as her head slumped. “Why him?”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Rin’s faded jeans sank into the window beside Stella. “It’s not like we would have advertised it to the world.”
“Miller has a terrible reputation. Besides that, what would the franchise do if they found out?”
“They might not care,” Rin said.
“It doesn’t matter now.” Stella stared down the city block. “It’s not a thing anymore.”
“But you want it to be a thing again?” Kate inquired because Stella’s rare emotional state was difficult to decipher. “That’s why you need my help?”
“I don’t know what I want,” Stella said, combing her fingers through her long mahogany curls. “But either way, Miller has to change his ways for good or his career is going to go down the drain. I care enough that I can’t sit by and just let that happen.”
Moving to the large window wall that hovered over the downtown sidewalk, Kate’s hip leaned into the glass by Stella, who, for the first time, looked defeated. Rin hovered over Stella’s shoulder with a sorrowful gaze. Being enamored herself, she was always on love’s side.
But Rin had never been burned by men the way Kate had. Neither had Stella. Having suffered from her father’s lack of care in her teenage years, Kate never wanted her friends to know what it was like to feel unimportant. To feel unsupported in a time of need. So despite her better judgement, Kate had no choice but to help Stella in her impossible task of taming Miller Cassidy. Even if it meant putting herself on the line.
“If he screws up on my watch, you know Marlene is going to use that as an excuse to fire me.”
Stella’s long lashes flicked up as an amber ring of hope flared in her dark eyes. “Does that mean you’ll do it?”
Kate’s lips pursed for a long moment before she spoke. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this, but if it will make you happy, I’ll see if I can push him through as a volunteer. Bypass some of the normal paperwork.”
A smile lifted on Stella’s lips as she wrapped her thin arms around her friend’s pencil like torso. “Thank you so much. I owe you.”
Kate returned the embrace while negative headlines flashed through her mind. “So big. More than margaritas.”
“He’s really not as bad as he seems.” Stella pulled away, her beam, now luminescent. “You’ll see.”
“I’m sure.”
But she wasn’t. Cassidy seemed like nothing but trouble. Still, Stella believed in Kate’s abilities to reform the basketballer, so surely she was capable. Yet, a question tugged at Kate’s mind. If fierce and ferocious Stella couldn’t keep Miller Cassidy in line, how the hell was Kate supposed to?
Author Bio
Tori Kron has spent ten years educating middle school students in the art of English writing. She is a proud graduate of Purdue University, where she discovered a love for nearby Chicago and the adventures that awaited within. When Tori isn’t in front of the classroom, you can find her working with fellow authors in the Midwest Writers Guild or traveling the world with friends. In between excursions, she happily resides in Evansville, Indiana with her husband and son.
Lies, a fast paced and sexy standalone filled with the perfect blend of heat and humor from New York Times bestselling author Kylie Scott, is coming July 21st and we have the sexy cover!
Cover Designed by Hang Le
Photographer: Brian Kaminski
Model: Terry Dormer
Betty Dawsey knows that breaking things off with Thom Lange is for the best. He’s nice, but boring, and their relationship has lost its spark. But steady and predictable Thom, suddenly doesn’t seem so steady and predictable when their condo explodes and she’s kidnapped by a couple of crazies claiming that Thom isn’t who he says he is.
Thom is having a hellish week. Not only is he hunting a double agent, but his fiancé dumped him, and thanks to his undercover life, she’s been kidnapped.
Turns out Thom is Operative Thom and he’s got more than a few secrets to share with Betty if he’s going to keep her alive. With both their lives on the line, their lackluster connection is suddenly replaced by an intense one. But in his line of work, feelings aren’t wanted or desired. Because feelings can be a lethal distraction.
Pre-order your copy today!
About Kylie Scott
Connect with Kylie Scott
Amazon | Bookbub | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Pinterest | Book+Main Bites | Website
Save the Date
by Monica Murphy
Release Date: June 25, 2019
Save the Date, an all-new standalone contemporary romance in a new series by New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Monica Murphy.
Caroline Abbott loves her job—helping engaged couples pick out the perfect save the date cards and invitations for their dream wedding. Working at Noteworthy means she has to deal with the occasional bridezilla, but Caroline’s always up for the challenge.
Until one particular bridezilla walks into the stationery store who’s fiancé happens to be the boy Caroline shared her first kiss with. Alexander Wilder is all grown up now, helping run his family’s successful luxury hotel chain, and is somehow even better looking than she remembers.
When Caroline just happens to catch Alex’s fiancée half naked with another man well, of course she has to tell Alex. Of course, he breaks off his engagement.
And of course, the ex-bridezilla has gone completely bonkers.
At least Caroline has her friends to save her from crazy ex-fiancées. But she also has the sudden interest of…Alex? Caroline knows they share a connection, but is he on the rebound? Or after seeing her all these years later, does he really want something more?
Download your copy today!
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2DAaa55
Amazon Worldwide: http://mybook.to/SaveTheDate_MM
Apple Books: https://geni.us/STDApple
Nook: http://bit.ly/STDMMBN
Kobo: http://bit.ly/STDMMKobo
Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2DIhImp
Excerpt:
I head straight for the pickup counter, where I see my skinny vanilla latte waiting for me, my name written on the side of the cup in Stella’s familiar scrawl. Without hesitation I grab it, inhaling deeply before I take a sip. Just a tiny sip so I can savor it. I close my eyes for a second, maybe two, and when I open them, I find a guy standing there.
Watching me.
And he’s not just any guy. He’s cute. Wait, no. Not cute. He’s…hot. Dark hair. Blue eyes. Wearing a suit that fits him perfectly. I know just from looking at the fabric that it’s custom. Expensive.
He’s smiling at me. And I’m scowling at him in return because the caffeine hasn’t quite hit my bloodstream yet, so I’m not on top of my game.
“You looked like you were having a moment.” His voice is deep. Rich. His face…vaguely familiar?
I stand a little straighter. Take another sip of my coffee as I contemplate the man in front of me, because for some reason I still can’t come up with anything to say.
Listen, I always have something to say. But this guy. This gorgeous, well-dressed maybe-stranger, is leaving me a little…
Dumbstruck?
Huh.
“That moment you were just having. With your coffee,” he continues, gesturing at the cup I’m clutching in both of my hands, like it’s my baby. Which this morning—every morning—it is.
“She loves coffee,” Stella says from behind me.
Glancing over my shoulder, I give her a look, one that says shush.
“I can see that.” The amusement in his voice is obvious. He thinks it’s funny. The sacred moment I was having with my latte made him smile.
I wouldn’t mind coming up with other ways to make him smile.
Whoa. Where did that thought come from?
“What I want to know is, how did you get such special treatment?”
I blink at him like I’m an uncomprehending idiot. “Excuse me?”
“Well, I’ve been here for the last fifteen minutes. First, standing in line.” He gestures at the line of customers that trails out the door. “And now, waiting for my order.”
Guilt fills me. Just a tiny bit. Sweet Dreams Café is the most popular bakery and coffee shop in Carmel-by-the-Sea. All the tourists love it. All the locals love it too. It’s been in Stella’s family for generations.
“Yet you skip past the line, walk straight in here and grab your ready-made drink within a few seconds of your arrival. Do you have a Fast Pass?” A brow lifts, and I’m hit with a quiver. Like Cupid just drew back his bow and shot that arrow right in my heart.
Or perhaps that arrow struck me in, ahem, other places.
Who knew a brow lift could be so sexy?
Watching me.
And he’s not just any guy. He’s cute. Wait, no. Not cute. He’s…hot. Dark hair. Blue eyes. Wearing a suit that fits him perfectly. I know just from looking at the fabric that it’s custom. Expensive.
He’s smiling at me. And I’m scowling at him in return because the caffeine hasn’t quite hit my bloodstream yet, so I’m not on top of my game.
“You looked like you were having a moment.” His voice is deep. Rich. His face…vaguely familiar?
I stand a little straighter. Take another sip of my coffee as I contemplate the man in front of me, because for some reason I still can’t come up with anything to say.
Listen, I always have something to say. But this guy. This gorgeous, well-dressed maybe-stranger, is leaving me a little…
Dumbstruck?
Huh.
“That moment you were just having. With your coffee,” he continues, gesturing at the cup I’m clutching in both of my hands, like it’s my baby. Which this morning—every morning—it is.
“She loves coffee,” Stella says from behind me.
Glancing over my shoulder, I give her a look, one that says shush.
“I can see that.” The amusement in his voice is obvious. He thinks it’s funny. The sacred moment I was having with my latte made him smile.
I wouldn’t mind coming up with other ways to make him smile.
Whoa. Where did that thought come from?
“What I want to know is, how did you get such special treatment?”
I blink at him like I’m an uncomprehending idiot. “Excuse me?”
“Well, I’ve been here for the last fifteen minutes. First, standing in line.” He gestures at the line of customers that trails out the door. “And now, waiting for my order.”
Guilt fills me. Just a tiny bit. Sweet Dreams Café is the most popular bakery and coffee shop in Carmel-by-the-Sea. All the tourists love it. All the locals love it too. It’s been in Stella’s family for generations.
“Yet you skip past the line, walk straight in here and grab your ready-made drink within a few seconds of your arrival. Do you have a Fast Pass?” A brow lifts, and I’m hit with a quiver. Like Cupid just drew back his bow and shot that arrow right in my heart.
Or perhaps that arrow struck me in, ahem, other places.
Who knew a brow lift could be so sexy?
Meet Monica:
Monica Murphy is the New York Times, USA Today and #1 international bestselling author of the One Week Girlfriend series, the Billionaire Bachelors and The Rules series. Her books have been translated in almost a dozen languages and has sold over one million copies worldwide. She is both self-published and published by Random House/Bantam and Harper Collins/Avon. She writes new adult, young adult and contemporary romance.
She is a wife and a mother of three who lives in central California on fourteen acres in the middle of nowhere along with their one dog and too many cats. A self-confessed workaholic, when she's not writing, she's reading or hanging out with her husband and kids. She's a firm believer in happy endings, though she will admit to putting her characters through angst-filled moments before they finally get that hard won HEA.
She is a wife and a mother of three who lives in central California on fourteen acres in the middle of nowhere along with their one dog and too many cats. A self-confessed workaholic, when she's not writing, she's reading or hanging out with her husband and kids. She's a firm believer in happy endings, though she will admit to putting her characters through angst-filled moments before they finally get that hard won HEA.
Connect with Monica:
Newsletter: http://bit.ly/IW5U0y
Seven Nights of Sin is the stunningly sexy and heart-tugging conclusion to The Two Week Arrangement, both available now!
About Seven Nights of Sin
He's the powerful CEO. I'm the know-it-all intern.
Things went further than they should have, but I don't have any regrets. Well, maybe just one . . .
I went and did the one thing he told me not to--fall in love with him.
Now I have seven days to prove my trust and devotion. Turns out money is a powerful drug, but love is even more addictive.
Buy Now
Start the Duet with The Two-Week Arrangement
About Kendall Ryan
A New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author of more than three dozen titles, Kendall Ryan has sold over 2.5 million books and her books have been translated into several languages in countries around the world.
Her books have also appeared on the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists more than 70 times. Ryan has been featured in such publications as USA Today, Newsweek, and InTouch Magazine.
She lives in Texas with her husband and two sons.
Visit her at: www.kendallryanbooks.com for the latest book news, and fun extras.
Subscribe to the newsletter: www.kendallryanbooks.com/newsletter/
She lives in Texas with her husband and two sons.
Visit her at: www.kendallryanbooks.com for the latest book news, and fun extras.
Subscribe to the newsletter: www.kendallryanbooks.com/newsletter/
ANOTHER SKY
by Jayne Frost
Release Date: June 25th
AVAILABLE NOW!!
FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
WATCH THIS EXQUISITE TRAILER FOR ANOTHER SKY NOW!
Blurb
LIGHTNING ON MY SKIN
THUNDER IN MY SOUL
HEAVY ON MY HEART
YOU WERE MY PERFECT STORM
My world stopped turning six years ago.
My best friend. My best girl.
A burning field in the pouring rain.
I survived, but I left the biggest part of me with them.
And now I sift through the rubble of my broken life.
I didn’t want a second chance.
Redemption. Closure.
Not for me.
Until Gelsey.
A dancer. A dreamer. Everything I’m not.
She’s the light to my dark.
The sun from another sky.
But sunny days never last.
The storm is coming.
And this time when darkness falls, I might surrender.
THUNDER IN MY SOUL
HEAVY ON MY HEART
YOU WERE MY PERFECT STORM
My world stopped turning six years ago.
My best friend. My best girl.
A burning field in the pouring rain.
I survived, but I left the biggest part of me with them.
And now I sift through the rubble of my broken life.
I didn’t want a second chance.
Redemption. Closure.
Not for me.
Until Gelsey.
A dancer. A dreamer. Everything I’m not.
She’s the light to my dark.
The sun from another sky.
But sunny days never last.
The storm is coming.
And this time when darkness falls, I might surrender.
Excerpt
MILES
Gravel crunched under the tires as my truck coasted to a stop on the shoulder of the two-lane highway. Cutting the engine, I sank against the leather upholstery and looked out at the open field. And for a moment, the thin veil separating then and now slipped away, and it was six years ago. On my back beneath the smoke-filled sky, I’d waited for death to claim me. To put an end to the pain.
I was sure it would.
But then I heard the voices. First Rhenn’s—so faint it was nothing more than a whisper.
And then Tori’s.
But not Paige.
Never Paige.
Shifting my gaze to the passenger seat, I almost expected to find her there. But the space was empty. Except for the sealed bottle of Maker’s Mark. Rich, amber liquid whispering promises of peace. Of oblivion.
Lies. All lies.
Because no matter what I drank or smoked or swallowed, peace eluded me. Tranquility had died in this field all those years ago. Crushed under the weight of twisted metal and drowned in the pouring rain.
Grimacing, I dug my fingers into the muscle on my thigh, right over the area where the bone had come through the skin. My leg had suffered the worst of the trauma. Broken femur. Dislocated knee cap. A spiral fracture to my tibia. Maybe if I weren’t a drummer, it wouldn’t have mattered. But the injuries had silenced my beat. Sadly, there was no grave to mark its passing. No monument to the lost rhythm. Just this empty field.
I guess that’s why I always ended up here. In the place where the music died. Right alongside my best friend and my best girl.
Blowing out a breath, I stashed the bottle in the inner pocket of my leather jacket. Two stints in the psychiatric ward at Millwood, and I knew better than to dance this close to the fire. But I didn’t care. I wasn’t planning on drinking it.
Throwing open the heavy door, I braced a hand on the steering wheel and slid off the seat, making sure to land on my good leg. I didn’t bother with my cane. There was no need for pretense.
Not here.
As I waded into the dried brush, “Blackbird” blared from my phone’s speaker. Tori. I’d lost track of how many times she’d called.
And yeah, I got it. She was concerned.
Less than twenty-four hours ago, we’d been on stage at Zilker Park, capping off the biggest rock festival Austin had ever seen. A Damaged reunion. One last hurrah for the fans. And closure for Tori and me.
Finally.
Except…nothing felt closed.
And as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t talk to Tori about it. Not now.
She’d finally moved on from her grief. Fallen in love again. And in some strange way, that had brought us back together.
After the accident, we’d drifted apart. And that was a good thing. Something we’d needed to do. Because when we had been together, sharing the same space, it was like the sum of our losses was too big. All-consuming.
Knowing that Tori was out there in the world with a heart as heavy as mine had made my own burden a little easier to bear.
But now I felt the weight of it more acutely than I had in years. A fact I was determined to hide. So, I’d been avoiding her calls.
Reaching the far end of the field, I eased onto the soft ground beneath the burned-out shell of the elm tree where I’d found Rhenn and lost him minutes later.
“Hey, buddy. Guess you know about that gig last night.” My voice fell to a whisper, and I looked down. “Of course you do.” Squeezing my eyes shut, I blew out a staggered breath and pulled the whiskey from my pocket. “It was weird, you know, not having y’all there to celebrate. So I thought I’d bring the celebration to you.”
Twisting off the cap with shaky fingers, I fought the urge to bring the bottle to my lips.
One drink. What could it hurt?
As I pondered throwing away years of sobriety, a gust of wind blew across the field, kicking up topsoil and dust.
Chuckling, I rubbed the sand out of my eyes. “Message received. You don’t have to get all testy about it.”
I wasn’t an alcoholic. Or a drug addict. But booze was still a slippery slope. A year after the crash, I’d landed in rehab from an “accidental” overdose that wasn’t an accident at all. It only took the counselor a week to get to the root of my real problem. Soul-crushing depression—the clinical kind.
They’d fixed me up with medication that kept the dark clouds at bay. Mostly. But I never told anyone about my diagnosis. Somehow it was easier to let people believe I was a drunk.
With a sigh, I turned the bottle upside down. “Miss you, bro.” After the last drop of liquor-soaked into the hallowed ground, I hauled to my feet. “See you on the other side.” Taking a last look around, I stopped breathing when I spotted a little patch of wildflowers some twenty yards away. Most of the blossoms had wilted on the stems. But a few buds remained.
Red, like Paige’s hair.
After all this time, I’d found her.
My feet moved swiftly with little protest from my bad leg. Brushing a hand over the velvety soft petals, tears spilled onto my cheeks, surprising me. Because I’d never cried for Paige. She didn’t visit me in my dreams. And I couldn’t see her face when I closed my eyes.
That was my penance. The price I’d paid for rejecting her that final night.
But she was here with me now. Her scent on the breeze, and her warmth on my skin. And she gave me the one thing I’d been searching for, even if I didn’t deserve it.
Forgiveness.
Gravel crunched under the tires as my truck coasted to a stop on the shoulder of the two-lane highway. Cutting the engine, I sank against the leather upholstery and looked out at the open field. And for a moment, the thin veil separating then and now slipped away, and it was six years ago. On my back beneath the smoke-filled sky, I’d waited for death to claim me. To put an end to the pain.
I was sure it would.
But then I heard the voices. First Rhenn’s—so faint it was nothing more than a whisper.
And then Tori’s.
But not Paige.
Never Paige.
Shifting my gaze to the passenger seat, I almost expected to find her there. But the space was empty. Except for the sealed bottle of Maker’s Mark. Rich, amber liquid whispering promises of peace. Of oblivion.
Lies. All lies.
Because no matter what I drank or smoked or swallowed, peace eluded me. Tranquility had died in this field all those years ago. Crushed under the weight of twisted metal and drowned in the pouring rain.
Grimacing, I dug my fingers into the muscle on my thigh, right over the area where the bone had come through the skin. My leg had suffered the worst of the trauma. Broken femur. Dislocated knee cap. A spiral fracture to my tibia. Maybe if I weren’t a drummer, it wouldn’t have mattered. But the injuries had silenced my beat. Sadly, there was no grave to mark its passing. No monument to the lost rhythm. Just this empty field.
I guess that’s why I always ended up here. In the place where the music died. Right alongside my best friend and my best girl.
Blowing out a breath, I stashed the bottle in the inner pocket of my leather jacket. Two stints in the psychiatric ward at Millwood, and I knew better than to dance this close to the fire. But I didn’t care. I wasn’t planning on drinking it.
Throwing open the heavy door, I braced a hand on the steering wheel and slid off the seat, making sure to land on my good leg. I didn’t bother with my cane. There was no need for pretense.
Not here.
As I waded into the dried brush, “Blackbird” blared from my phone’s speaker. Tori. I’d lost track of how many times she’d called.
And yeah, I got it. She was concerned.
Less than twenty-four hours ago, we’d been on stage at Zilker Park, capping off the biggest rock festival Austin had ever seen. A Damaged reunion. One last hurrah for the fans. And closure for Tori and me.
Finally.
Except…nothing felt closed.
And as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t talk to Tori about it. Not now.
She’d finally moved on from her grief. Fallen in love again. And in some strange way, that had brought us back together.
After the accident, we’d drifted apart. And that was a good thing. Something we’d needed to do. Because when we had been together, sharing the same space, it was like the sum of our losses was too big. All-consuming.
Knowing that Tori was out there in the world with a heart as heavy as mine had made my own burden a little easier to bear.
But now I felt the weight of it more acutely than I had in years. A fact I was determined to hide. So, I’d been avoiding her calls.
Reaching the far end of the field, I eased onto the soft ground beneath the burned-out shell of the elm tree where I’d found Rhenn and lost him minutes later.
“Hey, buddy. Guess you know about that gig last night.” My voice fell to a whisper, and I looked down. “Of course you do.” Squeezing my eyes shut, I blew out a staggered breath and pulled the whiskey from my pocket. “It was weird, you know, not having y’all there to celebrate. So I thought I’d bring the celebration to you.”
Twisting off the cap with shaky fingers, I fought the urge to bring the bottle to my lips.
One drink. What could it hurt?
As I pondered throwing away years of sobriety, a gust of wind blew across the field, kicking up topsoil and dust.
Chuckling, I rubbed the sand out of my eyes. “Message received. You don’t have to get all testy about it.”
I wasn’t an alcoholic. Or a drug addict. But booze was still a slippery slope. A year after the crash, I’d landed in rehab from an “accidental” overdose that wasn’t an accident at all. It only took the counselor a week to get to the root of my real problem. Soul-crushing depression—the clinical kind.
They’d fixed me up with medication that kept the dark clouds at bay. Mostly. But I never told anyone about my diagnosis. Somehow it was easier to let people believe I was a drunk.
With a sigh, I turned the bottle upside down. “Miss you, bro.” After the last drop of liquor-soaked into the hallowed ground, I hauled to my feet. “See you on the other side.” Taking a last look around, I stopped breathing when I spotted a little patch of wildflowers some twenty yards away. Most of the blossoms had wilted on the stems. But a few buds remained.
Red, like Paige’s hair.
After all this time, I’d found her.
My feet moved swiftly with little protest from my bad leg. Brushing a hand over the velvety soft petals, tears spilled onto my cheeks, surprising me. Because I’d never cried for Paige. She didn’t visit me in my dreams. And I couldn’t see her face when I closed my eyes.
That was my penance. The price I’d paid for rejecting her that final night.
But she was here with me now. Her scent on the breeze, and her warmth on my skin. And she gave me the one thing I’d been searching for, even if I didn’t deserve it.
Forgiveness.
About the Author
I grew up in California with a dream of moving to Seattle to become a rock star.
But when the grunge thing didn’t work out (I never even made it to the Washington border) I set my sights on Austin, Texas.
After quickly becoming immersed in the Sixth Street Music scene…and discovering I couldn’t actually sing, I decided to do the next best thing—write kick-ass romances about hot rockstars and the women that steal their hearts.
But when the grunge thing didn’t work out (I never even made it to the Washington border) I set my sights on Austin, Texas.
After quickly becoming immersed in the Sixth Street Music scene…and discovering I couldn’t actually sing, I decided to do the next best thing—write kick-ass romances about hot rockstars and the women that steal their hearts.
Connect w/Jayne
Teardrop Shot, an all-new sexy and angst filled sports romance from New York Times bestselling author Tijan is available now!
I asked for his criteria for bed buddies–that's the PG version.
He swore at me and said he didn’t do groupies. And just like that, our friendship was off to a great start.
Reese Forster was the starting point guard for the Seattle Thunder.
Gorgeous. Cocky. Loved by the nation.
He’s also attending preseason basketball training camp where I used to work.
Correction: where I work again, because I was fired from my last job.
And dumped.
And I might have a tiny bit of baggage, but that’s normal. Right?
Reese and I shouldn’t have become friends. We shouldn’t have become roommates.
And we really shouldn’t have started sleeping together … (Except we did.)
I’m adorably psychotic. He’s in the NBA.
This is not a disaster waiting to happen, at all.
Teardrop Shot is a 107k standalone with brand new characters.
He swore at me and said he didn’t do groupies. And just like that, our friendship was off to a great start.
Reese Forster was the starting point guard for the Seattle Thunder.
Gorgeous. Cocky. Loved by the nation.
He’s also attending preseason basketball training camp where I used to work.
Correction: where I work again, because I was fired from my last job.
And dumped.
And I might have a tiny bit of baggage, but that’s normal. Right?
Reese and I shouldn’t have become friends. We shouldn’t have become roommates.
And we really shouldn’t have started sleeping together … (Except we did.)
I’m adorably psychotic. He’s in the NBA.
This is not a disaster waiting to happen, at all.
Teardrop Shot is a 107k standalone with brand new characters.
Download your copy today!
My Review
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About Tijan
Tijan is a New York Times Bestselling author that writes suspenseful and unpredictable novels. Her characters are strong, intense, and gut-wrenchingly real with a little bit of sass on the side. Tijan began writing later in life and once she started, she was hooked. She’s written multi-bestsellers including the Carter Reed Series, the Fallen Crest Series, and the Broken and Screwed Series among others. She is currently writing a new YA series along with so many more from north Minnesota where she lives with a man she couldn’t be without and an English Cocker she adores.
Connect with Tijan
I really didn't do this story any justice. I was dying to read this and I saw some awesome reviews for it so I started reading it. But I really wasn't in the right mood nor did I have enough time to get invested in this book and it really felt like it needed it.
So I absolutely love the characters and my heart broke for Charlie. Just that every time I started to get into the story real life intruded and pulled me out repeatedly. So I never got the full emotional connection I know I would have if I read it on a quiet weekend when my head wasn't overflowing with drama.
Reese was absolutely perfect. I really couldn't fault him at all and from the very start I was in love. He was so sweet and caring and compassionate and everything about him made me love him more.
So although this was a four star read for me this week I know if i had of held off for the right time this would have been a five star read and I could kick myself for it. But oh well, maybe when I have the time I will reread this.
The Locker Room
by Meghan Quinn
by Meghan Quinn
Release Date: June 20th
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Blurb
Have you heard the rumor around campus about the locker room?
If you haven't, let me enlighten you: Legend has it if you bring a girl into the sacred after-game domain of the baseball locker room, it will end with a walk down the aisle. One rowdy and naked encounter against the lockers with the girl of your dreams will make her your wife.
Translation: baseball players are stupidly superstitious and believe the locker room has magical powers.
But not all baseball players are superstitious, me included.
So when the girl I've fallen for brushes me off, I start to question if I need to switch my way of thinking. Maybe it's time I finally hand out a coveted invitation to the locker room.
The only question is, will she accept?
If you haven't, let me enlighten you: Legend has it if you bring a girl into the sacred after-game domain of the baseball locker room, it will end with a walk down the aisle. One rowdy and naked encounter against the lockers with the girl of your dreams will make her your wife.
Translation: baseball players are stupidly superstitious and believe the locker room has magical powers.
But not all baseball players are superstitious, me included.
So when the girl I've fallen for brushes me off, I start to question if I need to switch my way of thinking. Maybe it's time I finally hand out a coveted invitation to the locker room.
The only question is, will she accept?
My Review
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![TheLockerRoom_teaser-1-2[1]](https://pinklipsbookreview.files.wordpress.com/2019/06/thelockerroom_teaser-1-21.jpg)
Excerpt
This map is useless.
Easy to read, my ass. I need a magnifying glass to make out any of the color-coded buildings on this thing and unfortunately, I left my magnifying glass in my other skirt. That was sarcasm, if you didn’t catch it.
Standing next to a wonky-looking tree, I try to act as casual as possible—hip popped out, interested glances, the usual—as I hide a school map beneath the pages of Pride and Prejudice , while off-handedly looking for the MacMillan building. But the wind—though subtle—isn’t making things easy.
Recently transferred from Cal State, Fullerton, I’m attempting to avoid making a fool of myself on the first day of fall classes at my new school, Brentwood University.
Unfortunately, I’m way out of my element.
For one, I know nothing about this school other than they have the best library sciences program in the country. Making the transfer a no-brainer for me the minute I realized I wanted to be a librarian. I dabbled in business at Cal State, but who was I kidding? I had no right trying to figure out micro-and macroeconomics.
A California girl through and through, Illinois is nothing like the palm trees and beaches I’ve grown up with. Don’t get me wrong, there are trees here, huge, plush, green trees everywhere, the kind of trees Bob Ross made dance on his canvas. But the smog . . . I have no idea where that is. Breathing fresh air almost feels wrong. And apparently pizza is a big deal here. I’ve heard at least three separate arguments since I’ve moved about which pizza in town is best. Let’s all be friends and be grateful there is good pizza here.
And even though this is a “small” school town outside Chicago, it’s larger than life with boisterous personalities and ivy-covered buildings that cause me to believe I’m walking on the hallowed grounds where the prosperous were educated.
Plus, I had to buy leggings for all my skirts, because the temperature doesn’t call for bare legs out here.
The wind picks up again, lifting my skirt and map at the same time. Not wanting to be known as the resident flasher on campus, I save the skirt—because even though I have leggings, I chose not to wear them today—and tamp it back down on my legs as the map lifts from my book, floats into the air, twirling and swirling only to smack a passing guy right in the face.
Whap .
“What the—?” He startles and I jump into action.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, scrambling to hold my skirt down while clutching my parted book at my chest.
The map is slowly peeled away and a pair of beautiful light blue eyes peek past the paper first, followed by the sharpest jawline I’ve ever seen, defined and tense. Light scruff matches his dirty-blond hair that is swept to the left and cut short on the sides. Dressed in a green Brentwood baseball sweatshirt and wearing a jaw-dropping smile, he chuckles and hands me the map while eyeing me up and down.
Why is he so familiar?
Those eyes.
“Not a problem, but you could have asked for help if you were lost. Slapping me with a map is an aggressive tactic, effective, but aggressive.”
That voice, that smirk. I know it from somewhere.
Feeling a light blush creep up my cheeks, I say, “Not used to the wind.”
He nods and thumbs behind him. “Lake Michigan. It’s a bitch in the winter.” He studies me for a second and then nods at my map. “Where you headed? I can help.” There is the smallest southern drawl in his voice, nothing strong, but enough to tell me he’s not from Illinois.
I know that voice. I remember specifically thinking it was hot.
Tamping down my map and folding it in my book that I snap shut quickly, I say, “I promised I’d figure this all out on my own, but looks like I might need a little help after all.”
“Don’t blame yourself; this campus is a maze with no rhyme or reason. I was lost my entire first semester. Can’t tell you how many times I was late to class.”
“That’s reassuring.”
He tilts his head to the side and gives me a small once-over. “I know you.” I don’t say anything and just as his eyes land on my chest, a smile creeps over his face, a light bulb lighting in his head. “You’re the girl who helped me find my room on Saturday.”
Oh.
Shit.
It’s the yellow-door baseball guy.
He leans forward, hands stuffed in his pockets and says, “I never forget a good pair of tits.”
As if I wasn’t blushing enough already.
Easy to read, my ass. I need a magnifying glass to make out any of the color-coded buildings on this thing and unfortunately, I left my magnifying glass in my other skirt. That was sarcasm, if you didn’t catch it.
Standing next to a wonky-looking tree, I try to act as casual as possible—hip popped out, interested glances, the usual—as I hide a school map beneath the pages of Pride and Prejudice , while off-handedly looking for the MacMillan building. But the wind—though subtle—isn’t making things easy.
Recently transferred from Cal State, Fullerton, I’m attempting to avoid making a fool of myself on the first day of fall classes at my new school, Brentwood University.
Unfortunately, I’m way out of my element.
For one, I know nothing about this school other than they have the best library sciences program in the country. Making the transfer a no-brainer for me the minute I realized I wanted to be a librarian. I dabbled in business at Cal State, but who was I kidding? I had no right trying to figure out micro-and macroeconomics.
A California girl through and through, Illinois is nothing like the palm trees and beaches I’ve grown up with. Don’t get me wrong, there are trees here, huge, plush, green trees everywhere, the kind of trees Bob Ross made dance on his canvas. But the smog . . . I have no idea where that is. Breathing fresh air almost feels wrong. And apparently pizza is a big deal here. I’ve heard at least three separate arguments since I’ve moved about which pizza in town is best. Let’s all be friends and be grateful there is good pizza here.
And even though this is a “small” school town outside Chicago, it’s larger than life with boisterous personalities and ivy-covered buildings that cause me to believe I’m walking on the hallowed grounds where the prosperous were educated.
Plus, I had to buy leggings for all my skirts, because the temperature doesn’t call for bare legs out here.
The wind picks up again, lifting my skirt and map at the same time. Not wanting to be known as the resident flasher on campus, I save the skirt—because even though I have leggings, I chose not to wear them today—and tamp it back down on my legs as the map lifts from my book, floats into the air, twirling and swirling only to smack a passing guy right in the face.
Whap .
“What the—?” He startles and I jump into action.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, scrambling to hold my skirt down while clutching my parted book at my chest.
The map is slowly peeled away and a pair of beautiful light blue eyes peek past the paper first, followed by the sharpest jawline I’ve ever seen, defined and tense. Light scruff matches his dirty-blond hair that is swept to the left and cut short on the sides. Dressed in a green Brentwood baseball sweatshirt and wearing a jaw-dropping smile, he chuckles and hands me the map while eyeing me up and down.
Why is he so familiar?
Those eyes.
“Not a problem, but you could have asked for help if you were lost. Slapping me with a map is an aggressive tactic, effective, but aggressive.”
That voice, that smirk. I know it from somewhere.
Feeling a light blush creep up my cheeks, I say, “Not used to the wind.”
He nods and thumbs behind him. “Lake Michigan. It’s a bitch in the winter.” He studies me for a second and then nods at my map. “Where you headed? I can help.” There is the smallest southern drawl in his voice, nothing strong, but enough to tell me he’s not from Illinois.
I know that voice. I remember specifically thinking it was hot.
Tamping down my map and folding it in my book that I snap shut quickly, I say, “I promised I’d figure this all out on my own, but looks like I might need a little help after all.”
“Don’t blame yourself; this campus is a maze with no rhyme or reason. I was lost my entire first semester. Can’t tell you how many times I was late to class.”
“That’s reassuring.”
He tilts his head to the side and gives me a small once-over. “I know you.” I don’t say anything and just as his eyes land on my chest, a smile creeps over his face, a light bulb lighting in his head. “You’re the girl who helped me find my room on Saturday.”
Oh.
Shit.
It’s the yellow-door baseball guy.
He leans forward, hands stuffed in his pockets and says, “I never forget a good pair of tits.”
As if I wasn’t blushing enough already.
Meghan Quinn
USA
Today Bestselling Author, wife, adoptive mother, and peanut butter
lover. Author of romantic comedies and contemporary romance, Meghan
Quinn brings readers the perfect combination of heart, humor, and heat
in every book.
First can I acknowledge how fucking hot the name Knox Gentry is. Because yeah not only was his name smoking but he lived up to it and I am a huge fan.
Now I have to mention that although this is a 4 star read for me I am really disappointed about that. For nearly 80% of the book I was obsessed, I thought I had a 5 star read. I was waiting for the drama, for the other shoe to drop and when it did I thought ok I can handle that, let's see how Meghan turns this around.
But I hate to admit I couldn't handle it. I hated the way Meghan turned things around. I feel like a toddler lying on the floor pounding my fists because I wanted peanut butter toast and instead I got peanut butter sandwiches. I got the ending I wanted and the epilogue was perfect (a little late for my liking but we got there) and the beginning was amazeballs it was just that 15 to 20% at the end.
Em was great. I loved her and I love, love, loved her and Knox. I even got where she was coming from after everything her ex put her through so I understood the decision she made even if I thought she was an idiot. And if only Knox had taken the advice given to him I would have been one super happy camper.
Oh well here we are. Crying about a four star read. Those first world problems can be a real bitch. Now I am off to drown my sorrows in a bottle of wine.
Broken Pieces
Tori Fox
Publication date: June 20th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
I’ve been broken. Time and again.
My body.
My heart.
My soul.
I’m tired of pretending I’m happy. Even when he makes it seem easy. But my heart is incapable of loving again.
________________________
She thinks she can’t love.
That there is nothing left in her to give to anyone.
Especially me.
But I would give anything to love her. If only my demons can stay in the past.
EXCERPT
I roll over on to my stomach with my feet in the air and look out the window. “Oh, I didn’t tell you? I am supposed to help with the bed and breakfast and bake treats for the guests.”
“When did you start baking again?”
“I was helping Ivy out at the diner.”
“I’m so happy for you Rae! You loved baking when you were younger and now…”
I start to tune her out as I stare off into the distance outside. I see a very half-naked man a few hundred feet away hosing himself off. The sun glistens off the water on his chest as it drips down from his hair. He starts to take his boots off which are covered in mud and then realize his pants are also muddied up. His hands go for the button of his jeans and there is no way he is just stripping down outside where anyone could see him?
Sure enough, he turns around and strips his jeans off. And oh god he is completely naked now. I thought he was attractive before with those abs, but those legs and that ass, I almost want to go outside and grab it. Who cares about Easton’s no boys rule, right? What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
“Earth to Raelynn!” I snap out of my daze when I hear Tacoma scream into the phone.
“Oh, ugh, sorry. I got distracted.”
“By what?”
“Ughh, nothing. Yeah, just a bird outside.”
“Really? A bird? I said your name five times before you answered,” she says.
“Well, it was a really big bird, oh my god!” I squeal as I see Brooks turn around and I get a full frontal. Definitely big but not a bird.
“What the hell, Rae?”
“Holy shit!” I still am at a loss for words as I stare at the perfectly sculpted specimen of a man showering off outside. He suddenly looks up toward my window and smirks at me as he lets his hand travel down his body.
I squeal again and fall off the bed with a thunk onto the floor.
“Rae, what is wrong with you?” Tacoma shouts into the phone.
I am at a loss for words but manage to get out big and naked.
“A big, naked bird? Well, that’s a first. Maybe you should take a picture.”
“Oh my god, Tacoma he saw me staring,” I mutter into the phone embarrassed.
“Oh, so this big naked bird was really a man, huh? He get your feathers in a twist?”
“Shut up! He saw me watching him. He was hosing himself off. Outside. Naked!”
“Well, that is infinitely better than hosing off with clothes on.”
“But he saw me and then he started touching himself.”
“Please don’t tell me it was an old man. That is just wrong.”
I crawl toward the window trying to see if he is still there. “No. Not old.”
“Well, who was it then? I am dying over here, Rae. I am literally looking out the window at a brick wall and you are seeing young, attractive men getting dirty with a watering hose.”
“It’s one guy Tacoma. Not a whole slew of them.”
“Well it should be. I’m gonna pretend that it is. Now fess up, who is it?”
“Brooks Anderson.”
“When did you start baking again?”
“I was helping Ivy out at the diner.”
“I’m so happy for you Rae! You loved baking when you were younger and now…”
I start to tune her out as I stare off into the distance outside. I see a very half-naked man a few hundred feet away hosing himself off. The sun glistens off the water on his chest as it drips down from his hair. He starts to take his boots off which are covered in mud and then realize his pants are also muddied up. His hands go for the button of his jeans and there is no way he is just stripping down outside where anyone could see him?
Sure enough, he turns around and strips his jeans off. And oh god he is completely naked now. I thought he was attractive before with those abs, but those legs and that ass, I almost want to go outside and grab it. Who cares about Easton’s no boys rule, right? What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
“Earth to Raelynn!” I snap out of my daze when I hear Tacoma scream into the phone.
“Oh, ugh, sorry. I got distracted.”
“By what?”
“Ughh, nothing. Yeah, just a bird outside.”
“Really? A bird? I said your name five times before you answered,” she says.
“Well, it was a really big bird, oh my god!” I squeal as I see Brooks turn around and I get a full frontal. Definitely big but not a bird.
“What the hell, Rae?”
“Holy shit!” I still am at a loss for words as I stare at the perfectly sculpted specimen of a man showering off outside. He suddenly looks up toward my window and smirks at me as he lets his hand travel down his body.
I squeal again and fall off the bed with a thunk onto the floor.
“Rae, what is wrong with you?” Tacoma shouts into the phone.
I am at a loss for words but manage to get out big and naked.
“A big, naked bird? Well, that’s a first. Maybe you should take a picture.”
“Oh my god, Tacoma he saw me staring,” I mutter into the phone embarrassed.
“Oh, so this big naked bird was really a man, huh? He get your feathers in a twist?”
“Shut up! He saw me watching him. He was hosing himself off. Outside. Naked!”
“Well, that is infinitely better than hosing off with clothes on.”
“But he saw me and then he started touching himself.”
“Please don’t tell me it was an old man. That is just wrong.”
I crawl toward the window trying to see if he is still there. “No. Not old.”
“Well, who was it then? I am dying over here, Rae. I am literally looking out the window at a brick wall and you are seeing young, attractive men getting dirty with a watering hose.”
“It’s one guy Tacoma. Not a whole slew of them.”
“Well it should be. I’m gonna pretend that it is. Now fess up, who is it?”
“Brooks Anderson.”
Author Bio
Tori Fox loves books. So much so she decided to write one. It didn't go well. But after genre changes, many rewrites, and lots of editing she finally finished. And now that she is done, she doesn't plan on stopping anytime soon. Besides writing you can find her curled up on the couch with her dog reading a book or lost in a makeup store purchasing more makeup than is necessary for a human. She is also a fan of hockey and whiskey, especially together. Tori lives with her fiancé in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains.
Risking It All
S.M. Koz
Published by: Swoon Reads
Publication date: June 18th 2019
Genres: Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult
S.M. Koz
Published by: Swoon Reads
Publication date: June 18th 2019
Genres: Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult
A high-achieving teen who’s determined to become a fighter jet pilot is matched up with an accused criminal at an elite military boarding school in SM Koz’s YA novel, Risking It All.
Paige knows exactly what she wants—to graduate from Wallingford Academy and become a pilot in the US Air Force. She’s inherited her father’s no-nonsense attitude and whip-smart intelligence, all of which have made her the perfect Wallingford cadet.
Wallingford Academy is the last place in the world Logan wants to be. But after his girlfriend borrows his car and commits a crime, Logan takes the fall and ends up there with hopes of striking a decent plea bargain. For him, graduation can’t come soon enough.
When Paige is asked to mentor Logan, it’s the perfect opportunity to prove her leadership skills—but she doesn’t account for the feelings that start to develop or the baggage from Logan’s past which could threaten both of their futures.
Paige knows exactly what she wants—to graduate from Wallingford Academy and become a pilot in the US Air Force. She’s inherited her father’s no-nonsense attitude and whip-smart intelligence, all of which have made her the perfect Wallingford cadet.
Wallingford Academy is the last place in the world Logan wants to be. But after his girlfriend borrows his car and commits a crime, Logan takes the fall and ends up there with hopes of striking a decent plea bargain. For him, graduation can’t come soon enough.
When Paige is asked to mentor Logan, it’s the perfect opportunity to prove her leadership skills—but she doesn’t account for the feelings that start to develop or the baggage from Logan’s past which could threaten both of their futures.
EXCERPT
Leaning against the wall, I watch all the others. Yesterday morning, I got to skip this part since I was still on the dean’s leash.
I have no intention of turning into one of these guys, standing with their shoulders back, head high, and arms straight against their sides. Why on Earth would they submit themselves to this every single morning? Besides appearing ridiculously uncomfortable, it’s degrading to have someone look you up and down and decide whether they can make your life even more of a living hell.
“Cadet Evans,” Commander Jernigan says when he’s directly in front of me. “I know for a fact Lieutenant Commander Durant has taught you the proper way to stand at attention.”
“I must’ve forgotten.”
“I see,” he says, tapping his chin with his finger. Then he turns and walks away. I can’t help but smile. Score one for Logan. I knew eventually I’d win one.
I push off the wall, ready to head for the door and breakfast, but Noah shakes his head. Everyone else continues to stand perfectly still.
“What?” I ask.
Just then, Jernigan returns with a water gun. “Stand up straight,” he says to me.
“Are you serious? You’re threatening me with a water gun?”
He squirts it at my junk. “What are you doing?” I ask, covering the now wet spot on my pants with my hand.
“You will stand at attention or I’ll have fun with this water gun. I’m sure all the girls would love to hear about the new guy who pissed his pants when his commander yelled at him.”
“You’re crazy,” I say, shaking my head.
He squirts it again and leaves a wet mark not even a centimeter from my hand. This prick has got incredible aim.
“Stop it!” I yell.
Another wet spot.
“Seriously. What’s your problem, man?”
Another spot.
“Dude! Enough!”
“Stand at attention.”
I narrow my eyes at him but pull my shoulders back.
He squirts me again.
“I’m standing at attention!”
“Not correctly. Do it the right way.”
I lower my arms and hold them at my sides. Then I slide my feet together.
Another wet spot.
“What now?!” I yell.
“Feet at a forty-five-degree angle. Heels together.”
I do it, and he finally lowers the water gun. With a nod, he says, “That’s better. Now, about your shoes.”
I look down at the shiny black leather on my feet. “What?”
“They’re scuffed.”
“No, they’re not.”
He motions with his finger for me to bend down for a closer look. Then he points to a faint—very faint—white line right above the sole on the left side of my shoe. “You’ve got to be kidding?”
He raises his eyebrows but remains silent.
“Seriously? No one can even see that.”
“I saw it.”
“You must have, like, Superman vision, then.”
“Fix it. Now!” he barks, apparently not appreciating my humor. “And tuck in your shirt!”
He moves down the line to the next person while I return to my room and search through the closet until I find the black shoe polish. This guy is the biggest asshole I’ve met so far. The first day, he took away my very limited free time just because I can’t run a marathon like him and everyone else. Today it’s how I stand and my shoe. I wonder what tomorrow will be. My now-buzzed hair is an eighth of an inch too long? My socks have too much lint on them? My underwear is too tight?
I run the brush over the white line, which disappears immediately, then put the polish away. The wet spots on my pants have combined, and it does look a little like I pissed myself. I wave my hand over them to try and get them to dry, but the sound of someone clearing his throat catches my attention. Noah is motioning for me to get back in the hallway. I give up on my pants and tuck in my shirt as I take my place again.
Jernigan returns, looks me up and down, and turns away without so much as a word. I shake my head and roll my eyes.
I freaking hate that guy.
Author Bio
SM Koz was born in Michigan, but moved to North Carolina for college and never left. She enjoys traveling, camping, hiking, photography, reading, spending time with foster kids who call her house home, and learning new things. When she’s not creating online training for pharmaceutical companies (her day job) or writing, Koz can be found at the local community college taking courses on various topics ranging from digital art to HTML to desktop publishing. SM Koz has written six novels. Although her stories differ by genre, ranging from contemporary realism to sci-fi to fanfiction, two things they all have in common are a young or new adult focus and romance. If you’d like to learn more about SM Koz, check her out on social media.
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