Category: Book Excerpt

In a Holidaze by Christina Lauren | Book Excerpt (+ Giveaway)

Posted December 2, 2020 by Jana in Book Excerpt, Book Spotlight, Bookish Little Christmas, Giveaway / 7 Comments

Today I have a Christmas treat for you! Gallery Books has given me an excerpt of Christina Lauren’s new Christmas book to share with you, plus they are sponsoring a giveaway of a copy of the book for A Bookish Little Christmas! I’m reading In a Holidaze right now, and it’s so much fun so far. Trust me, you’re going to want to win this!


In a Holidaze by Christina Lauren
Published by Gallery Books on October 6, 2020
Genres: Contemporary Romance — Christmas
Pages: 336
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Buy on Amazon

One Christmas wish, two brothers, and a lifetime of hope are on the line for hapless Maelyn Jones in In a Holidaze, the quintessential holiday romantic novel by Christina Lauren, the New York Times bestselling author of The Unhoneymooners.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year…but not for Maelyn Jones. She’s living with her parents, hates her going-nowhere job, and has just made a romantic error of epic proportions.

But perhaps worst of all, this is the last Christmas Mae will be at her favorite place in the world—the snowy Utah cabin where she and her family have spent every holiday since she was born, along with two other beloved families. Mentally melting down as she drives away from the cabin for the final time, Mae throws out what she thinks is a simple plea to the universe: Please. Show me what will make me happy.

The next thing she knows, tires screech and metal collides, everything goes black. But when Mae gasps awake…she’s on an airplane bound for Utah, where she begins the same holiday all over again. With one hilarious disaster after another sending her back to the plane, Mae must figure out how to break free of the strange time loop—and finally get her true love under the mistletoe.

Jam-packed with yuletide cheer, an unforgettable cast of characters, and Christina Lauren’s trademark “downright hilarious” (Helen Hoang, author of The Bride Test) hijinks, this swoon-worthy romantic read will make you believe in the power of wishes and the magic of the holidays.


In a Holidaze by Christina Lauren
Chapter 1 (Excerpt)

December 26

Call me harlot. Call me impulsive. Call me hungover.

No one ever has before, but someone absolutely should this morning. Last night was a disaster.

As quietly as I can, I slip out of the bottom bunk and tip- toe across the freezing floor to the stairs. My heart is beating so hard I wonder if it’s audible outside of my body. The last thing I want is to wake Theo and have to look him in the eye before my brain is warmed up and my thoughts are cohesive.

The second step from the bottom always creaks like something out of a haunted house; it’s been victimized by nearly three decades of us “kids” run-stomping our way up for meals and down for games and bed in the basement. I stretch to carefully put my foot on the one just above it, exhaling when I land with no sound. Not everyone is so lucky; that loose board has busted Theo sneaking in late—or early, depending on how you look at it—more times than I can count.

Once I’m in the kitchen, I worry less about stealth and go for speed. It’s still dark; the house is quiet, but Uncle Ricky will be up soon. This cabin is full of early risers. My window of opportunity to figure out how to fix this is narrowing quickly.

With a barrage of memories from last night rolling like a mortifying flip book through my head, I jog up the wide stairway to the second floor, ignore the mistletoe hanging above the landing, round the banister in my candy cane socks, sneak quietly down the hallway, and open the door to the narrower set of stairs leading to the attic. At the top, I nudge open Benny’s door.

“Benny,” I whisper into the chilly blackness. “Benny, wake up. It’s an emergency.”

A gravelly groan comes from across the room, and I warn him, “I’m turning on the light.”

“No—”

“Yes.” I reach over, flicking the switch and illuminating the room. While we offspring have long been relegated to bunk beds in the basement, this attic is Benny’s bedroom every December, and I think it’s the best one in the house. It has pitched ceilings and a long stained-glass window at the far end that projects sunlight across the walls in brilliant stripes of blue, red, green, and orange. The narrow twin bed up here shares the space with the organized clutter of family heirlooms, boxes of decorations for various holidays, and a wardrobe full of Grandma and Grandpa Hollis’s old winter clothes, from back when buying a cabin in Park City wasn’t a laughable financial prospect for a high school principal from Salt Lake. Since none of the other families had girls when I was a kid, I would play dress-up all alone up here, or sometimes with Benny as my audience.

But now I don’t need an audience, I need a kind ear and a cold, hard shot of advice because I am on the verge of hysteria.
“Benny. Wake up.”

He pushes up onto an elbow and, with his other hand, wipes the sleep from his eyes. His Aussie accent comes out hoarse: “What time is it?”

I look at the phone I have gripped in my clammy palm. “Five thirty.”

He stares at me with squinty, incredulous eyes. “Is somebody dead?”

“No.”

“Missing?”

“No.”

“Bleeding profusely?”

“Mentally bleeding, yes.” I step deeper into the room, wrap myself up in an old afghan, and sit in a wicker chair that faces the bed. “Help.”

At fifty-five years old, Benny still has the same fluffy sandy-brown hair he’s sported my entire life. It reaches just past his chin, wavy like it was permed for years and at some point decided to stay that way. I used to imagine he was a roadie for some aging eighties rock band, or an adventurer who led rich tourists to their doom out in the bush. The reality—he’s a Portland locksmith—is less exciting, but his jangle of turquoise bracelets and beaded necklaces at least lets me pretend.
Right now that hair is mostly a tangled halo of chaos around his head.

With each of the twelve other bodies in this house, I’ve got deep history, but Benny is special. He’s a college friend of my parents—all of the grown-ups in this house attended the University of Utah together, except Kyle, who married into the group—but Benny has always been more friend than parent figure. He’s from Melbourne, even-tempered and open-minded. Benny is the eternal bachelor, the wise adviser, and the one person in my life I know I can count on to give me perspective when my own thoughts are swerving out of control.

When I was a kid, I would save up my gossip until I saw him over the Fourth of July weekend or Christmas break, and then unload everything the moment I had him to myself. Benny has a way of listening and giving the simplest, most judgment-free advice without lecturing. I’m just hoping his level head can save me now.

“Okay.” He clears some of the gravel out of his throat with a cough and brushes a few wayward strands of hair out of his face. “Let’s have it.”

“Right. So.” Despite my panic and the ticking clock, I decide it’s best to ease him in gently to this conversation. “Theo, Miles, Andrew, and I were playing board games last night in the basement,” I start.

A low “Mm-hm” rumbles out of him. “A standard night.”

“Clue,” I stall, tugging my dark hair over my shoulder.

“Okay.” Benny, as ever, is blissfully patient.

“Miles fell asleep on the floor,” I say. My younger brother is seventeen and, like most teenagers, can sleep on a pointy rock. “Andrew went out to the Boathouse.”

This “Mm-hm” is a chuckle because Benny still finds it hilarious that Andrew Hollis—Theo’s older brother— finally put his foot down with his father and found a way out of the infantilizing bunk bed situation: he moved into the Boathouse for the duration of the Christmas holiday. The Boathouse is a small, drafty old building about twenty yards from the main cabin. What cracks me up is that the Boathouse isn’t anywhere near a body of water. It’s most frequently used as an extension of the backyard in the summer and most assuredly not set up for overnight guests to the Rocky Mountains in December.

And as much as I hated not seeing Andrew Hollis in the top bunk across the room, I honestly can’t blame him.
No one sleeping in the basement is actually a kid anymore. It’s been well established that Theo can (ahem) sleep anywhere, my brother, Miles, idolizes Theo and will go wherever Theo is, and I put up with it because my mother would murder me barehanded if I ever complained about the Hollis family’s abundant hospitality. But Andrew, nearly thirty years old, was apparently done placating the parents, and took a camping cot and sleeping bag and strolled his way out of the cabin our first night here.

“We’d all had a couple drinks by then,” I say, then amend, “Well, not Miles, obviously, but the rest of us.”

Benny’s brows lift.

“Two.” I grimace. “Eggnog.”

I wonder if Benny knows where this is going. I am a notoriously wussy drinker and Theo is a notoriously horny one. Though, to be fair, Theo is just notoriously horny.

“Theo and I went upstairs to grab some water.” I lick my lips and swallow, suddenly parched. “Um, and then we were like, ‘Let’s drunkenly go for a walk in the snow!’ but instead . . .” I hold my breath, strangling my words. “We made out in the mudroom.”

Benny goes still, and then turns his suddenly-wide-awake hazel eyes on me. “You’re talking about Andrew, right? You and Andrew?”

And there it is. With that gentle question, Benny has hit the nail on the head. “No,” I say finally. “Not Andrew. Theo.”

That’s me: harlot.

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Hot Pursuit by Kay Marie Book Excerpt | Blog Tour (+ Giveaway)

Posted August 29, 2018 by Jana in Blog Tour, Book Excerpt, Giveaway / 2 Comments

Hot Pursuit by Kay Marie Book Excerpt | Blog Tour (+ Giveaway)

Welcome to my stop along the blog tour for Kay Marie’s Hot Pursuit, hosted by Xpresso Book Tours! I’m excited to share an excerpt of the book with you today to get you even more excited to read Hot Pursuit, which has been marketed as “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days meets White Collar”. Read more about the book below and make sure you enter to win a $25 Amazon gift card!


Excerpt of Hot Pursuit by Kay Marie

He didn’t want to notice the perfect O her plush lips made as she said her name, but he couldn’t control it…or the immediate reaction his body had at the sight. Nate froze, jaw clenching as he fought to control the blood rush coursing to a very distinct place.

Jo leaned closer, tightening her grip.

His gaze darted to those jade eyes staring up at him, vibrant and sparkling with hidden mirth. He’d always had a weakness for green eyes. And women in barely there red bikinis…

He jerked back, shaking free of her hold.

Jo folded her lips together for a moment, holding back a smile, then licked them slowly. A single brow arched. “You have a name?”

Nate frowned, cleared his tight throat, and nudged his chin in the direction of her jet ski. “I said good day, Miss Carter.”

“No fun,” she sighed with a pout, then smirked. “You know I can find out if I want to, right?”

She can’t seriously be… Nate shook off the thought and pushed his brows together in question. “You wouldn’t be implying what I think you’re implying, would you?”

Her smile widened with an unspoken challenge. “What if I am?”

Nate straightened his spine and crossed his arms over his chest, funneling his disbelief into a stern, scolding expression instead. “Breaking into a government database is a federal crime,” he said calmly, the edge of a threat laced through his tone. “Class B felony, punishable by up to twenty years in prison.”

The flames in the centers of her eyes brightened. “Only if you get caught.”

Unbelievable…she’s unbelievable.

No shame.

No remorse.

No…no…

“Can I tell you a secret, Miss Carter?” Nate murmured, not really sure why he was playing along, but the words tumbled from his lips before he could stop them. Her eager expression intensified. An almost childlike sense of wonder was etched into the grooves of her face as she nodded. He leaned in, just to prove to himself that he could, and forced his rebellious pulse to remain even. Her auburn hair tickled his face as he pressed his lips close enough to feel the heat of her sun-kissed skin. Something in his chest hitched, but he didn’t back down. “Eventually, you always get caught.”

She sucked in a breath. He leaned back just enough to stare into her eyes, not at all liking the defiant golden sparkles dancing at the centers of her irises, flickering like sunshine through a dark forest, brilliant and burning.

The air between them was tense.

A silent battle of wills.

Neither backing down.

Both fighting for the win.

She opened her mouth to speak, drawing his gaze, and—

Static cracked loudly over the two-way radio.

“Parker, Alvarez, do you copy? Are you there? Satellite feed says Carter should be in sight momentarily.”

Nate snapped upright.

Jo didn’t move except to perk one corner of her plush lips, watching him unflinchingly, victory simmering in her eyes.

“Parker, are you there? Do you copy?”

She turned her head toward the sound and shrugged. “You going to get that?”

Nate took a slow step back, eyes never leaving her for a second. His gun was four feet behind, resting next to Leo’s on the control panel. But his phone was on the table, along with his notes. All within reach of her thieving hands.

A pulse of static coursed through the radio again.

Nate lunged for it. Pressing the button to speak, he kept a laser focus on Jolene Carter, trouble personified. “Here, Boss.”

“Parker, do you see Carter?”

A small smile danced across her lips as she mouthed, Parker.


Hot Pursuit by Kay Marie
Series: To Catch a Thief #1
Self-published on August 27, 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Add to Goodreads • Amazon

All Jolene Carter has ever wanted is to own a bakery of her own. There’s only one problem. Her father, Robert Carter, is a world-renowned art thief and she’s, well, sort of his protégé. But he’s promised her that this next job in New York will be their last, and she won’t let anyone get in the way of her dreams…especially not the distractingly delicious FBI agent hot on her tail.

Agent Nate Parker has been on the Robert Carter case for years, and if the rumors of the aging criminal’s retirement are true, this might be his last chance to nail him. With the legacy of his late father in the back of his mind, the stakes are more personal than anyone realizes. He won’t let anything stand in the way of justice…especially not the red-headed vixen who keeps giving him the slip.

He’s a cop who’d never bend. She’s a con who’ll never break. But all’s fair in love and larceny…


About Kay Marie

Kaitlyn Davis, a bestselling author with over a quarter of a million books sold, writes young adult fantasy novels under the name Kaitlyn Davis and contemporary romance novels under the name Kay Marie. Publishers Weekly has said, “Davis writes with confidence and poise,” while USA Today has recommended her work as “must-read romance.”

Always blessed with an overactive imagination, Kaitlyn has been writing ever since she picked up her first crayon and is overjoyed to share her work with the world. When she’s not daydreaming, typing stories, or getting lost in fictional worlds, Kaitlyn can be found playing fetch with her puppy, watching a little too much television, or spending time with her family. If you have any questions for her–about her books, about scheduling an event, or just in general–you may contact her at: KaitlynDavisBooks@gmail.com

Sign up for Kaitlyn’s newsletter to stay up-to-date with all of her new releases, to receive exclusive subscriber bonus content, and more!

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Love, Lies, and Spies by Cindy Anstey Excerpt | Blog Tour (+ Giveaway)

Posted April 27, 2016 by Jana in Blog Tour, Book Excerpt, Giveaway / 2 Comments

Love, Lies, and Spies by Cindy Anstey Excerpt | Blog Tour (+ Giveaway)

Love, Lies, and Spies by Cindy Anstey Excerpt | Blog Tour (+ Giveaway)Love, Lies and Spies by Cindy Anstey
Published by Swoon Reads on April 19, 2016
Genres: Historical Romance, Romance
Pages: 368
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Buy on AmazonBarnes & Noble

Juliana Telford is not your average nineteenth-century young lady. She’s much more interested in researching ladybugs than marriage, fashionable dresses, or dances. So when her father sends her to London for a season, she’s determined not to form any attachments. Instead, she plans to secretly publish their research.

Spencer Northam is not the average young gentleman of leisure he appears. He is actually a spy for the War Office, and is more focused on acing his first mission than meeting eligible ladies. Fortunately, Juliana feels the same, and they agree to pretend to fall for each other. Spencer can finally focus, until he is tasked with observing Juliana’s traveling companions . . . and Juliana herself.

Welcome to my spot along the blog tour for Love, Lies, and Spies hosted by Xpresso Book Tours! Cindy Antsey is a 2016 debut author (yay Debut Author Challenge books!), and I have an excerpt that is sure to get you excited to grab a copy soon. Make sure you enter to win a print copy of the book as well!

“Oh my, this is embarrassing,” Miss Juliana Telford said aloud. There was no reason to keep her thoughts to herself, as she was alone, completely alone. In fact, that was half of the problem. The other half was, of course, that she was hanging off the side of a cliff with the inability to climb either up or down and in dire need of rescue.

“Another scrape. This will definitely give Aunt apoplexy.”

Juliana hugged the cliff ever closer and tipped her head slightly so that she could glance over her shoulder. Her high-waisted ivory dress was deeply soiled across her right hip, where she had slid across the earth as she dropped over the edge.

Juliana shifted slowly and glanced over her other shoulder. Fortunately, the left side showed no signs of distress, and her lilac sarcenet spencer could be brushed off easily. She would do it now were it not for the fact that her hands were engaged, holding tightly to the tangle of roots that kept her from falling off the tiny ledge.

Juliana continued to scrutinize the damage to her wardrobe with regret, not for herself so much as for her aunt, who seemed to deem such matters of great importance. Unfortunately, her eyes wandered down to her shoes. Just beyond them yawned an abyss. It was all too apparent how far above the crashing waves of the English Channel she was—and how very small the ledge.

Despite squishing her toes into the rock face as tightly as possible, Juliana’s heels were only just barely accommodated by the jutting amalgamate. The occasional skitter and plop of eroding rocks diving into the depths of the brackish water did nothing to calm her racing heart.

Juliana swallowed convulsively. “Most embarrassing.” She shivered despite a warm April breeze. “I shall be considered completely beyond the pale if I am dashed upon the rocks. Aunt will be so uncomfortable. Most inconsiderate of me.”

A small shower of sandy pebbles rained down on Juliana’s flowery bonnet. She shook the dust from her eyes and listened. She thought she had heard a voice.

Please, she prayed, let it be a farmer or a tradesman, some-one not of the gentry. No one who would feel obligated to report back to Grays Hill Park. No gentlemen, please.

“Hello?” she called out. Juliana craned her neck upward, trying to see beyond the roots and accumulated thatch at the cliff’s edge.

A head appeared. A rather handsome head. He had dark, almost black, hair and clear blue eyes and, if one were to notice such things at a time like this, a friendly, lopsided smile.

“Need some assistance?” the head asked with a hint of sarcasm and the tone of a . . .

“Are you a gentleman?” Juliana inquired politely.

The head looked startled, frowned slightly, and then raised an eyebrow before answering. “Yes, indeed, I am—”

“Please, I do not wish to be rescued by a gentleman. Could you find a farmer or a shopkeep— anyone not of the gentry—and then do me the great favor of forgetting you saw me?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I do not want to be rude, but this is a most embarrassing predicament—”

“I would probably use the word dangerous instead.”

“Yes, well, you would, being a man. But I, on the other hand, being a young woman doing her best not to call attention to herself and bring shame upon her family, would call it otherwise.”


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Heart-Shaped Hack by Tracey Garvis-Graves Chapter Reveal

Posted June 17, 2015 by Jana in Book Excerpt / 1 Comment

It’s no secret here that I love Tracey Garvis-Graves and every book she’s ever written and all her future books as well because reasons. So when I found out about her newest book, Heart-Shaped Hack (coming on August 25, 2015), I was excited before I even read the synopsis! But I was even MORE excited when I read it because this book has me written all over it! I am going to LOVE it! Read about the book, read the first chapter, and then click the links at the bottom of this post to read four more chapters and enter a giveaway for your very own copy of the book!


Heart-Shaped Hack by Tracey Garvis-Graves
Release Date: August 25, 2015
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When Kate Watts abandoned her law career to open a food pantry in Northeast Minneapolis, she never dreamed it would be this difficult. Facing the heartbreaking prospect of turning hungry people away, she is grateful for the anonymous donations that begin appearing at the end of each month. Determined to identify and thank her secret benefactor, she launches a plan and catches Ian—a charismatic hacker with a Robin Hood complex—in the act.

Ian intrigues Kate in a way no man ever has. But after learning he’s snooped around on her personal computer, she demands retribution. Impressed with her tolerance and captivated by her spirit, he complies and begins to slowly charm his way past her defenses. Time spent with Ian is never boring, and Kate soon finds herself falling for the mysterious hacker.

But Ian has enemies, and they’re growing restless. In the hacking world, exploiting a target’s weakness is paramount, and no price is too high to stop an attack. And when Kate learns exactly how much Ian has paid, she’ll discover just how strong her love is for the man who has hacked his way into her heart.

Amazon • Barnes & Noble • iBooks


Heart-Shaped Hack by Tracey Garvis-Graves
Chapter 1

“The babies are going to starve,” Helena said.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Kate replied. “No one is going to starve, least of all the babies.” But her pinched expression and the way she was jabbing at the keyboard as she refreshed the donations page on their website said otherwise. For the first time in the sixteen months since Kate had left her position as a corporate attorney to open the food pantry, she faced the heartbreaking prospect of turning hungry people away. She couldn’t stand the thought of letting down her regulars, especially the young mother of three who relied on the pantry to feed them.

The problem was that Kate’s nonprofit organization was not the only one in Minneapolis that needed help. Tomorrow was the first of September, and everyone was trying to stockpile whatever resources they could before they headed into the colder months.

“Let’s see,” Helena said. “We could rob a bank. We could pawn our valuables. You could sell your body on a street corner.”

Despite their dire circumstances, Kate cracked a smile. Helena had walked through the front door of the food pantry shortly after Kate opened and said, “I’m sixty-five, and they’re forcing me to retire from my job at the insurance company. My husband retired two years ago, and now he’s home all day. That’s too much togetherness for us. I have to find something to do outside the house, and you wouldn’t have to pay me much.” Kate hired her on the spot and had never regretted it.

She swiveled her chair toward Helena. “Why am I always the one who has to sell her body? Why can’t you sell yours?”

“Who do you think is going to bring in more money? A gray-haired grandmother of seven, or a willowy twenty-nine-year-old beauty? It’s a no-brainer.”

It was hard to argue with logic like that.

Kate had been so determined not to let down their clients that she’d resorted to begging her ex-boyfriend Stuart—who worked as the executive producer on an hour-long talk show on the local ABC station—to let her appeal to the public during the afternoon broadcast.

“Do you know how hard it is for me to be around you, Kate?” Stuart said when he received her call. “Do you ever think of that?”

“Of course I do. But this is really important to me.”

“I used to be really important to you.”

Kate remained silent. They’d been through this before.

He sighed in defeat. “Come in tomorrow. I’ll squeeze you in after the cooking segment.”

“Thanks, Stuart.”

The skirt had been Helena’s idea. “We need to do whatever we can to grab viewers’ attention.”

“You mean I need to do whatever I can.”

“Of course I mean you. You have great legs.”

 

On the day of the broadcast when Helena arrived at the food pantry, Kate said, “I don’t remember this skirt being quite so short. I’m actually a little worried about the type of viewer I might attract with it.” She tugged on the hem, pulled out her desk chair, sat down, and crossed her legs. “Can you see anything?”

“You’ll be fine unless you decide to recross your legs in the middle of the segment like Sharon Stone did in that one movie.”

“I can assure you I will not be doing that. The skirt is as far as I’m willing to go. I draw the line at flashing people, not even for the babies.”

Kate had paired the black-and-white houndstooth skirt with a black short-sleeve top and her favorite black heels. When she arrived at the TV studio, she ducked into the bathroom to check her teeth for wandering lipstick. Before she left the food pantry she’d applied a raspberry lip stain that Helena claimed looked stunning on her. That morning she’d curled her long dark hair and then brushed through the curls with her fingers so they draped across her shoulders and down her back in loose waves. She’d used plenty of mascara to play up her brown eyes. The extra primping made her feel a little like she was standing on a street corner, but she banished those thoughts. At this point, they needed all the help they could get.

After Stuart snaked the mic up the back of her top, his hands lingering on her skin in a way that made Kate feel sad, he positioned her on a stool and told her to wait for his signal. She kept her legs tightly crossed, and when the light on the camera turned red, he pointed at her and she began to speak.

“Good afternoon. My name is Kate Watts, and I’m the executive director of the Main Street Food Pantry. As we head into the winter months, our needs—and those of all local food pantries—will be greater than ever.” Kate stared into the camera, imagining she was speaking directly to anyone who might have the means to help them.

“No child should ever have to go hungry, and many of our local residents depend on the food pantry to feed their families. I’m here today to personally appeal to you should you have the ability to help us in any way. The families we assist, and especially the children, depend on your generosity more than you could ever imagine. Thank you.” She ended the short segment with the food pantry’s telephone number and street address, and when Stuart gave her the all clear, she reached under her shirt for the microphone and handed it back to him.

“Thanks, Stuart,” she said, giving him a quick hug. “I really appreciate this.”

“Sure,” he said, looking over her shoulder as if there was something very interesting across the room. “Take care, Kate.”

 

That was yesterday, and so far only a few additional donations had trickled in. She and Helena spent the rest of the afternoon making calls to local churches and schools to set up additional food drives while continuing to monitor the donations page. Finally, at a little before three, Kate went into the back room to recount their inventory. It was the end of the month and they were down to their last cases of infant formula and baby food. Almost all of the canned vegetables had been depleted, and they were completely out of peanut butter and soup. If it was this bad now, Kate didn’t want to think about what might happen when budgets were stretched even thinner by holiday spending. Dejected, she was sitting on the floor, clipboard in hand, when Helena burst into the back room.

“I ran after him,” she said, gasping for breath. “But he was too fast. Boy am I out of shape.”

“Who did you run after?”

Helena tossed a brown paper bag to Kate and leaned over, resting her hands on her knees as she took in giant gulps of air.

“The man who dropped off the money. Seriously, I may need supplemental oxygen over here.”
Money?

Kate looked into the bag and blinked several times. “Did you lock the front door?”

“Yes.”

She turned the bag upside down and watched in disbelief as hundred-dollar bills rained down on the concrete floor. She counted it quickly. “There’s a thousand dollars here.”

Their website listed four levels for donations with amounts ranging from ten to one hundred dollars. There were higher amounts for corporations, but this was the largest donation they’d ever received from one person, and it was more than enough to replenish their shelves. Kate was already picturing herself pushing a giant cart through Costco. “Did he leave his name?”

“No. He walked up to my desk and said, “Give this to Katie. He must have seen you on TV yesterday.”

“Young? Old?” Rich?

“Young. Early thirties, maybe? Tall. Blondish-brown hair. He was in a real hurry to leave. I chased him out the door, but he jumped into the driver’s seat of an old blue car.”

“An old car? Are you sure?”

“I think it was old. It didn’t look like any car I’ve ever seen. It had stripes on the hood. And then he burned rubber.”

“Why would someone who drives an old car drop off a bag full of money?”

“I have no idea. But whatever the reason, he just saved us.”

Continue reading the next four chapters here!

And enter to win a copy of Heart-Shaped Hack here!


Tracey Garvis Graves is a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author. Her debut novel, On the Island, spent 9 weeks on the New York Times bestseller list, has been translated into twenty-seven languages, and is in development with MGM and Temple Hill Productions for a feature film. She is also the author of Uncharted, Covet, Every Time I Think of You, and Cherish.

Tracey is on Facebook and Twitter.


It’s a New Adult Christmas with Megan Erickson! (+ Giveaway)

Posted December 8, 2014 by Jana in Book Excerpt, Giveaway / 1 Comment

NAChristmasbanner

 

It’s a new adult Christmas! This holiday season we’re celebrating with thirteen new adult authors. There’s bunches of stops along this tour starting today and going all the way up to Christmas Eve! Today I’m hosting Megan Erickson, author of the Bowler University Series: Make It Count, Make It Right, and Make It Last (coming January 6, 2015). She has a brand new Christmas scene for us that takes place shortly after Make It Right ended.

Max Payton spat out his half-chewed bite of pecan pie onto his plate. “Why the f—- does that taste like fire?”

Lea Travers dipped her finger into the gelatinous middle of Max’s slice of pie and stuck the tip of her finger in her mouth. Max was not wrong. She could feel the searing warmth down her throat and into her stomach. Her eyes watered and she coughed. Max leaned into her shoulder. “You all right, doll?”

“Water,” she gasped.

He reached for her glass on the coffee table in front of the couch they sat on in the Payton living room. He handed it to her and then turned to his brothers. Brent stood beside the recliner where their father was drinking a beer, and Cal leaned against the fireplace.

Brent looked pleased, chomping merrily on his pie. “I think it’s delicious.”

“What’d you do to the pie, Brent?” Cal asked.

“I made it delicious.”

“You made it burn the lining of my esophagus,” Max shot back.

Brent rolled his eyes. “You guys just can’t appreciate good Bourbon.”

“How much bourbon did you put in it?” Cal asked.

Brent didn’t answer.

Lea assumed if she checked the recycling, there’d be an empty bottle. That pie was drunk.

And seeing as Christmas Eve in the Payton household wasn’t going too hot, a hangover tomorrow was the last thing they all needed. Lea could tell her boyfriend, Max, and his brothers and Dad were trying, but they didn’t quite seem to have the holiday cheer. She wondered how the hell they got through previous holidays. Or if what she was witnessing right now was as merry as they got.

Which was sad. They were good guys. They just lacked a little finesse. A feminine touch. Their mom had left when Max was a kid.

Cal brooded by the fireplace, Jack drank in silence, and Max picked at his pie with a disgusted look on his face. Lea began to think that her plans for this evening might have been a bad idea.

Her plans that would be here in approximately five minutes.

She began to sweat and fanned her thin sweater off of her chest. Max frowned at her. “You okay?”

She wiped her forehead, like she was sweating. “Yeah, it’s just hot in here, you know? Maybe we can all go out in the backyard?”

Brent looked up from devouring his alcoholic pie. “Outside? Lea, it’s thirty degrees and dark.”

Why couldn’t they all just go with it? She had about – she glanced at the clock on the wall – T minus two minutes to get them out of the house before they heard the doorbell.

“It’s a family tradition of mine to look for shooting stars on Christmas Eve.” She was pretty proud of herself for that lie. It was a damn good one, and she’d made it up on the spot.

Max just stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

She tugged on his sleeve and stood up, bustling around to get their coats together. “Christmas Eve. Stars. Wishes. You know.” She clapped her hands together. “Round up, boys!”

Jack didn’t lower the footrest recliner. Cal was looking at her like she was crazy. Brent was picking a piece of pie off of his shirt…

And then the doorbell rang.

Cal’s head went up and he frowned. “Who the hell is ringing the doorbell on Christmas Eve?”

Lea laughed nervously. “I’m sure it’s just a solicitor or something. Okay, so backyard?”

But Cal ignored her and strode toward the front door. Max followed him and when they swung the door open, she squeezed her eyes shut. And waited.

There was a pause.

A long pause.

And when she cracked an eye open, she saw Cal scowling at the group of carolers Lea had asked to come from the local church. They were staring back at Cal like he was an axe murderer, and Max slowly turned his head to pin Lea with his gaze.

She waggled her fingers in weak wave.

Max sighed and turned back around.

There were five carolers, and the older woman in front was wearing a huge red coat over an ugly Christmas sweater and a massive fur hat. She seemed to gather herself together, and Lea had to hand it to her, because that was a bright smile in response to Cal’s frown.

“Merry Christmas, I’m Theresa and we’re from First Presbyterian over on Oakmont,” the woman said. “Would you like to hear some carols?”

Lea stepped up before Cal could answer. “Yes, please. Yes, yes we would.”

She felt a presence at her back and looked over her shoulder to see Brent, a grin on his face, his eyes on the cute young female caroler in the back. Who was blushing.

Lea rolled her eyes.

“Okay, ready?” Theresa said. “One…two…three.”

They began to sing a somewhat tentative version of “Jingle Bells.” Even so, Lea had to admit they sounded absolutely lovely, with a young guy in the back accompanying with a set of bells.
When that was over, Cal looked like he was going to close the door. But Lea could see Max beginning to smile, Brent bobbing his head, and Jack had even risen from his statue-like state on his recliner to listen to the carolers.

“Another please?” Lea asked.

Theresa nodded and turned to her group. Lea swore she saw a twinkle in Theresa’s eye as she communicated silently with her group.

Then Theresa turned around, and the carolers launched into a rousing rendition of “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.”

And it was lovely. And fun. Brent began clapping and even placed his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Max grabbed Lea’s hand and swayed to beat. Even Cal was smiling, leaning back against the open door, his lips moving as he sang silently along with the carolers. Lea swore she caught Jack tapping his toe.

Lea threw back her head and laughed as Max picked her up and twirled her. He leaned his forehead against hers. “You already made me the happiest guy in the world, and now you’re trying to work your magic on my family?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” she said with fake innocence as she gripped his dark hair tightly.

He lowered her to the ground. “Yeah ya do. And we all appreciate it.”

She ran her fingers along the stubble on his jaw. “Merry Christmas, Max.”

He leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to her lips. “Merry Christmas, doll.”

Sweet, huh? Makes you even more excited to read the series, huh? You have the opportunity to win the first book by entering the giveaway at the end of this post! First, I’m going to introduce you to Megan and her final book, Make It Last, which comes out in the new year and can be read as a standalone!

 

About Megan:

Megan Erickson worked as a journalist covering real-life dramas before she decided she liked writing her own endings better and switched to fiction.

She lives in Pennsylvania with her husband, two kids and two cats. When she’s not tapping away on her laptop, she’s probably listening to the characters in her head who won’t stop talking.

Find her on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and at her website!

 

Make It Last by Megan Erickson
Series: Bowler University #3
Published by William Morrow Impulse
Genres: Contemporary Romance
Pages: 336
Buy the BookAdd to Goodreads

After graduating from Bowler University, the last place Cam Ruiz ever expected to find himself is his hometown. A bad job as a bouncer and worry over his mom’s health make living in Paradise anything but. There’s only one thing that can make his return any harder—running into the only girl he’s ever loved.

Tate Ellison made a mistake when she was eighteen, one that cost her the best thing she’s ever had. She’s always hoped the regret of losing Cam would fade over time. Too bad it’s only grown. She took comfort in the fact she’d never have to face him again, so his presence in Paradise throws her for a loop.

The pull between them is instant and when the truth of what happened years ago tumbles out, they share a mind-blowing kiss…which leads to more. But the past has a way of repeating itself. When all the cards are on the table, Cam and Tate must decide what they are willing to do to make it last.

 

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