The Fall by T. Gephart Release Blitz

















About the Book
Salvation doesn’t exist.
It’s a lie people tell themselves in the dark, alone so their conscience might be eased. To give them hope that, in the end, we can all be forgiven.
Except we can’t.
And no amount of praying will change that.
For me there will be no redemption, and I will leave this world with the same black heart I entered it with.
The comfort in knowing who I am and what I am capable of keeps me warmer than any lie of having my soul saved.
Because I know the truth.
Because I know there is no Heaven.
And there is no Hell.
There is only the fall.

Michael has no one. No family. No Friends. And not a soul in the world cares about him, only a system that tried to break him.
With a strong dislike for establishments and conformity, he has lived his life as a rogue. A hired thug with no allegiances except to his own word.


Sofia has grown up in the shadow of her father—one of the most powerful drug lords in the city. She has vowed to bring him to justice, moving through the ranks of the Chicago PD in an effort to be as far removed from her father’s lifestyle as possible.

Two worlds collide when Michael shows up at her door, a gun in his hand and a look in his eyes that terrifies her. Suddenly, Sofia has a price on her head and Michael is the only one who can keep her out of the crossfire.


Prologue

“Please.”
An anguished scream ripped through the night as the rain pummeled against the thick stained glass. The heavy splat against the windows was not unlike the streams of unrelenting tears that rolled down her face.
Darkness had come, and with it the howling wind battered at the doors, stirring at the unrest. The fat white candles that littered the room were the only source of illumination, a lightning strike killing the power an hour or two before.
The sisters had gathered, huddled together as mumbled Our Father’s competed against the sound of the storm, fearing the Devil himself was knocking at their door.






It wasn’t just the gale and torrential rain that crackled in the dark. Evil was dense in the air, rolling in like an all-encompassing fog—heavier than the thickest winter coat.
Another scream pierced through the sound of the weather. The very voice tore from her throat like a soul desperate to leave its earthly vessel.
There was no hope. It was the sound of death.
“Please,” she begged. The accumulation of fear and pain weighted in that one word made the sisters’ skin goose bump like the cold that had yet to breach the room. “Please, save him.”
Labored breaths dragged in air behind her chattering teeth.
“Please.”
“Save.”
“Him.”
It was more than a plea, and there was no mistake it would be the woman’s last request.
“Mother?”
Sister Catherine’s gaze rose to Mother Superior from her place on the floor. Her knees had been cemented to the very spot for the last ten hours, but not for prayer like the others. She waited for direction as blood stained the cold blue stone rock around her. Both the mother and child were closer to meeting the heavenly Father than the dawn was to the new day.
“Mother, we’re losing her.”
Mother’s eyes closed as she drew out a long, deep breath—Sister Catherine was right—the end was coming quickly.
“We will do all that we can, child. Be at peace.” Her hand brushed against the damp forehead of the expectant mother.
They had been the only words of comfort Mother could offer without betraying the cloth. She couldn’t lie to her. Not because of the promise she had made when she had accepted the habit, but because her very eyes watched as mortality slipped from the blessed child on the floor, the gray pallor of her skin already making her look like a corpse.
“One more push.” Sister Catherine’s attention was refocused, her actions determined to keep Mother’s promise. “I can see the head, but you need to help me.”
Sister Catherine’s hands worked swiftly, her fingers doing their best to work with the limited knowledge she had. Her calling had come during her second year of medical school; the important things not yet learned. But she was young, just barely having accepted her final vows, and her determination to serve was stronger than her fear.
This was not how she’d imagined her vocation, but one did not question when it came to serving the Lord. She would do whatever she needed to do, and tonight it was the experience of her pre-cloistered life that was desperately needed.
There were no further words, not from Sister Catherine nor from the woman who lay in front of her. The last gasps of energy were needed if the mother was going to be able to birth her child, and only the Lord himself knew if either of them would survive.
“Agh!” The mother fell back, the rock beneath her biting into her skin but she no longer felt pain. Not from her body at least, her agony had long been numbed. It was the heaviness in her heart that was her only emotion.
Just a little more.
She wasn’t sure if it had been Sister Catherine’s urging or her own internal thought that spoke those words, but it had been enough to keep her going. Her face strained from the effort as she bore down through the constant contractions. It would have to be enough. She had nothing left.
The child she had carried for nine months slipped from her body, finally making his entrance as she whispered her offering to the Father. That offering being her own sacrifice.
Take me, she prayed. Let him live, take me.
Her eyelids closed as Sister Catherine delivered the son, but there had been no cry. Not from the mother and not from her child, the eerie silence settling into the room as she accepted her fate. In fact, there had been no sound as she took her last breath, her eyes not having the luxury of gazing on the boy she’d been so desperate to save. Whether or not she’d succeeded, beyond her control.
“He’s breathing, barely.” Sister Catherine’s hands swaddled the boy with her own veil, his entrance into the world only a few moments before. “He’s weak, but he’s fighting.” She hoped it would be enough. They had already lost the mother; losing the boy would surely be too much.
“A fighter. Yes, we shall call him Michael.” Mother genuflected beside the altar, offering quick word of thanks before she rose to her feet. There wasn’t a lot of time; they needed to get the child to the hospital and fast.
“Blessed child, Michael.” The tiniest drop of holy water rolled off the infant’s forehead. Mother’s hand hovered above it, her lips moving quickly as the sacred words of baptism spilled from them. It was the best she could do without a priest, but at least she’d given him hope.
“There’s no time for an ambulance. Sister Mary, bring the car around. I will keep him breathing if needed.” Sister Catherine’s resolve kicked in. He would live. He would not die on the cold stained floor of the church.
“Go.” Mother clutched at the crucifix that hung close to her breast and slowly removed it from her neck. “I will care for the mother.” The gold chain placed gently upon the lifeless body of the mother who would never know the child she had birthed.
Sisters Catherine and Mary wasted no time; the boy’s breaths shallow as they ran out of the church into the courtyard toward the old used sedan. The rain soaked their clothes in minutes, the doors closing quickly behind them as the engine roared to life. Thankfully the hospital was not more than a few miles away.
And while it had been Sister Catherine’s previous expertise that had kept Michael alive, Sister Mary’s reputation for her lead foot was exactly what they needed now. The church and the convent quickly faded in the rearview mirror as they sped away.
Catherine and Mary’s attention had been about reaching the hospital, while Mother knelt beside the woman whom she hadn’t known nearly long enough, but had loved like her own child. She remembered the very day she had come to them, the day they had accepted her as one of their own.
She had been so brave; even as the end came her strength had not waned. Fearless, even in the face of her own death. She was safe now, seated with the Father, free from pain and sorrow. The Lord would protect her and do what Mother had been unable to do. God forgive her, while it had been Sister Catherine’s hands that had been bloodied, it had been Mother’s who had worn the biggest stain.
Had her vow of silence been responsible for the death?
“Should we call the police?” Sister Bridget offered, her bright eyes blinking away tears they all felt welling. “Mother? What would you like us to do?”
It was a question Mother had been contemplating for weeks. What she would do when the time came and the child was born. Had she done the right thing? They should have taken her to a hospital. It was insanity to try and handle this within the walls of their sanctuary, and yet it was exactly what she had promised. No one would ever know about the child. Not how he came to be in this world or who his parents had been, his existence hidden by not only her resolve, but that of her devotion to the mother.
No. No one could know.
The plan was set.
The boy was to be reported as abandoned, left in the church’s vestibule with no indication of who the mother was. It was a lie and one she would take to her grave. Her father would judge her, but when that time came she knew he would understand.
“No. No police.” Mother’s voice was hoarse as she removed the veil from her head and covered the body. “Our sister is gone. We will see that she is buried with the faithful at the back, but there can be no record.”
“Mother?” There was a collective gasp, the very fabric of their lives called into question as she told them her plan.
“We must honor her. We must give her the peace in death she was unable to gain in life. I have prayed on it and it is the only way. In this you must trust.” Her voice maintained its steely resolve, even if underneath her heart was breaking.
Did she do everything she could?
God help her, she couldn’t be sure she had.
“Save him.” Mother’s eyes rose to the crucifix mounted on the wall, the words more a prayer than a request. “Please, Lord. Save him.”
Her thoughts returned to the boy, his mother giving her own life so that he might live.
Only time would tell whether it had been enough.



About the Author

T Gephart is an indie author from Melbourne, Australia.
T’s approach to life has been somewhat unconventional. Rather than going to University, she jumped on a plane to Los Angeles, USA in search of adventure. While this first trip left her somewhat underwhelmed and largely depleted of funds it fueled her appetite for travel and life experience.
With a rather eclectic resume, which reads more like the fiction she writes than an actual employment history, T struggled to find her niche in the world.
While on a subsequent trip the United States in 1999, T met and married her husband. Their whirlwind courtship and interesting impromptu convenience store wedding set the tone for their life together, which is anything but ordinary. They have lived in Louisiana, Guam and Australia and have traveled extensively throughout the US. T has two beautiful young children and one four legged child, Woodley, the wonder dog.
An avid reader, T became increasingly frustrated by the lack of strong female characters in the books she was reading. She wanted to read about a woman she could identify with, someone strong, independent and confident and who didn’t lack femininity. Out of this need, she decided to pen her first book, A Twist of Fate. T set herself the challenge to write something that was interesting, compelling and yet easy enough to read that was still enjoyable. Pulling from her own past “colorful” experiences and the amazing personalities she has surrounded herself with, she had no shortage of inspiration. With a strong slant on erotic fiction, her core characters are empowered women who don’t have to sacrifice their femininity. She enjoyed the process so much that when it was over she couldn’t let it go.
T loves to travel, laugh and surround herself with colorful characters. This inevitably spills into her writing and makes for an interesting journey - she is well and truly enjoying the ride!
Based on her life experiences, T has plenty of material for her books and has a wealth of ideas to keep you all enthralled. 


Website   ✻ Facebook   ✻ Twitter   ✻ Goodreads   ✻

Confessions of an Undercover Girlfriend (Confessions #2) by Kay Marie Blog Tour







Confessions of an Undercover Girlfriend by Kay Marie
Released Oct. 11, 2016
Series Confessions # 2
Genre: Contemporary,Romance, Comedy

About the Book
From bestselling author Kaitlyn Davis, writing as Kay Marie, comes the second book in the Confessions series, a romantic comedy being hailed as "the new Bridget Jones!" (Broc's Bookcase).

So, I'm no longer a virgin sex columnist—thank you, Ollie—but if I thought that was going to make my life easier, boy was I wrong! John is back in town determined to win my forgiveness. Blythe is more ready than ever to take me down. Bridget is totally onto the new twinkle in my eye. And, well, Ollie is just as distractingly delicious as usual.

So, naturally, I have a few more confessions to make.

Confession #1: I came up with what I thought would be the perfect plan to keep my relationship with Ollie a secret—pretend to get back together with John!

Confession #2: It backfired. A lot.

This is a sweet romance, perfect for fans of Sophie Kinsella, Meg Cabot, and Emily Giffin!








 photo black_zps584f1581.png

In the mood for sweet, neurotic, romance then I highly suggest Kay Marie’s latest Confessions of an Undercover Girlfriend. The continuation of debauchery Skylar “Skye” Quinn calls life is one crazed adventure.

Is it ok for me to admit when I received an email for Ms. Marie with the opportunity to review her latest story I had a fangirl moment. I believe I replied with squeeee. I could not wait to learn what would happen next with one of my favorite trio Skye, Ollie, and Bridge.

Things practically pick up where they left off from Confessions of a Virgin Sex Columist.Love is finally confessed between Skye and Ollie. Skye is no longer a virgin, but she’s still a spaz and lacks confidence. That’s when the drama begins.


I really think I might be a pathological liar, I can’t help it. It’s a disease, a sickness. I need help.

I truly almost forgot just how much Skye makes me crazy, which can be troubling since she’s the main character and the story is being told solely from her POV. At some point I wished someone would have told her that lying by omission can create unnecessary drama in her life. I could not believe how hard she made life. No one should have to lie this much as an adult, especially about who you may or may not be dating.

How do you survive with such little self-confidence?

The million dollar question has to be what happened in Skye’s life for her to have so much self doubt The paranoia and doubting how Ollie felt about her. While there is not a ton of backstory on Ollie, but I highly doubt any guy would confess that he cares / loves someone for kicks and giggles. . I found myself screaming at my kindle. I can’t think of how many time I wanted Ollie to either spill the story or walk away.

I’m choosing you. Please, please, choose me too.


All of the patience I found so admiring in Ollie is finally appreciated. I’m confident I will not be the only person that will believe he deserved the special jester. The scavenger hunt letters. *Sigh* That has to be my favorite moment. That was the turning pointing for Skye owning her decisions and adulting. Elated would be the emotion I’m going with for that moment and for future moments. I have high hopes that there will be a third story in this series.

Reading Confessions of an Undercover Girlfriend was a well time spent. The writing flows and has a fluid pace. You’ll experience over the top dramatic eye-rolling, cringe worthy, and swoony moments. The story had a realistic feel. The secondary characters add substance without taking over. If you’re a fan of imperfect romantic comedies than Kay Marie’s latest in her Confessions series should be your next read.


 photo gray5_zpsdaeabce0.png





About the Author 

Bestselling author Kaitlyn Davis writes young adult fantasy novels under the name Kaitlyn Davis and contemporary romance novels under the name Kay Marie.

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 indulging in some puppy videos, 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

To stay up-to-date with all of Kaitlyn's new releases, sign up for her new release newsletter here: TinyLetter.com/KaitlynDavisBooks

Website  ✻ Facebook  Twitter  Tumblr Wattpad Pinterest Youtube Goodreads

Blog Tour - Girl on the Brink by Christina Hoag





Girl on the Brink by Christina Hoag
Release date: August 30th 2016
Series:Standalone
Genre: YA Romance/Thriller
Fire and Ice YA/Melange Books

About the Book

Sometimes the one you love isn’t the one you’re meant to be with.

The summer before senior year, Chloe starts an internship as a reporter at a local newspaper. While on assignment, she meets Kieran, a quirky aspiring actor. Chloe becomes smitten with Kieran’s charisma and his ability to soothe her soul, torn over her parents’ impending divorce. But as their bond deepens, Kieran becomes smothering and flies into terrifying rages. He confides in Chloe that he suffered a traumatic childhood, and Chloe is moved to help him. If only he could be healed, she thinks, their relationship would be perfect. But her efforts backfire, and Kieran turns violent. Chloe breaks up with him, but Kieran pursues her relentlessly to make up. Chloe must make the heartrending choice between saving herself or saving Kieran, until Kieran’s mission of remorse turns into a quest for revenge.


 We head to Crystal Lake and wind up a dark, twisting road to a ridge. We drive until we come to a break in the tree line and turn into a lookout point. A carpet of amber and white lights spreads before us, ending in the soaring New York skyline.
“This is incredible. You can see all the way to Manhattan,” I say.
“Told you. We’ll be able to see fireworks all over North Jersey.” He snaps open a can of root beer, hands it to me, then opens another for himself and points it at New York.
“That’s the place for us, sweetpea. That’s where it all happens.”
“Yeah, maybe we’ll get there one day.”
“What ‘maybe.’ Here’s to your byline in the New York Times and my name on a TV dressing room door with a big star.” We clink cans. He takes a hank of my hair and sweeps his face with it. We pose for a selfie with my hair wrapped around his neck like a feather boa.
“I’m going to call this picture ‘wrapped up in you’.” He dips the tip of the lock in his soda and sucks it.
I crack up. “I totally love these crazy, unexpected things you do. Who would ever think of doing that?”
Kieran puts his head into my lap, his face staring up at me. “Dorian says actors have to be memorable. They have to stand out from the competition so they’ll get cast.”
“You’re memorable, all right.” I laugh.
“Chloe, I need to know you’re committed to me because I’m committed to you.”
Something twangs inside me. “Do you have to even ask me that?”
“I want you to promise you’ll never have any contact with any guy you were ever involved with. We can’t have exes interfering in our relationship.”
“Why are you even bringing this up? I really don’t have any ‘exes’.”
“I want to know your whole boyfriend history. How far did you go with each guy?”
“It’s not very long.” I tell him about my three misadventures.
“How many times did you do it with this Angus dude?”
“Just a few.”
“What an asshole. I’d like to take a baseball bat to him for using you like that. That really pisses me off.”
“Just forget it. It’s no big deal.” Now I regret telling him. I don’t need to hear I was “used.”
“It kills me to think of you with someone else.”
“What about you? What’s your girlfriend history?”
“Girls just don’t know how to appreciate me. I’ve been involved with selfish girls, up until now, that is.”
“I appreciate you, Kieran.”
“I know. What about Facebook? Are you Facebook friends with any of those guys?”
I take out my phone. “Look, I’ll show you if it makes you feel better.” I scroll through my forty-six friends. “See? Nothing to worry about.”
“I just get scared that one of these guys might come back and take you away from me.”
“That’s totally crazy.”
“I can’t help it. It’s my low self-esteem.”
“Kieran, you’re the only person who’s ever been really interested in me, who’s really wanted to know me, the real me. I can’t even tell you how much that means.”
A boom sounds in the distance. “Look!” I point to shooting streaks of red, white and blue in the sky.
“Over there, too.” Kieran signals a cascade of glittery silver and amber. “And way over there.”
Fireworks explode against the black silky night everywhere we look. We ooh and ah as they whistle and burst.
“Isn’t this the best, sweetpea?”
“Yeah, it is.”
When the last grand finale ends, we wind down the mountain, Kieran clutching my thigh and me leaning on his shoulder.
I realize Kieran never told me anything about his past girlfriends. My phone chimes with an incoming text. It’s Jade.
“Thanks for letting us know you weren’t coming to the BBQ.”
Crap. “Sorry, work was busy.”
“Or busy with Kieran. I shouldn’t have even bothered inviting you.”
I don’t answer. Maybe Kieran’s right. Maybe she’s just jealous I have a serious boyfriend.


Advance Praise:
“An engrossing tale of a dangerous teen romance.” -- Kirkus Reviews 

“Girl on the Brink is a must have for every high school and public library.” – Isabelle Kane, Wisconsin high school librarian 


ABOUT TEEN DATING VIOLENCE 
Abusive relationships are widespread, cutting across socioeconomic, racial and ethnic, religious and gender preference lines. One in three high school girls experience dating violence, while more than half of college-aged women reported experiencing controlling behavior in a relationship. Eighty-nine percent of female college students said they were unable to recognize the signs of an abusive relationship, and a third of teens involved in intimate partner violence ever told anyone about it. 



About the Author

Christina Hoag is the author of Girl on the Brink, a romantic thriller for young adults (Fire and Ice YA/Melange Books, August 2016) and Skin of Tattoos, a literary thriller set in L.A.’s gang underworld (Martin Brown Publishing, September 2016). She is a former reporter for the Associated Press and Miami Herald and worked as a correspondent in Latin America writing for major media outlets including Time, Business Week, Financial Times, the Houston Chronicle and The New York Times. She is the co-author of Peace in the Hood: Working with Gang Members to End the Violence, a groundbreaking book on gang intervention (Turner Publishing, 2014). She resides in Los Angeles. For more information, see www.christinahoag.com. 





Blog Tour Organized by:
YA Bound Book Tours

Harley & Rose by Carmen Jenner Book Tour


HARLEY_ROSE_BOOK_TOUR.jpg






HARLEY_ROSE_LIVE.jpg



Once upon a time they had been more than friends….

Harley & Rose by Carmen Jenner is NOW AVAILABLE!! 

ONLY $0.99

Amazon US  ❉ Amazon UK ❉ Kobo   ❉

**Additional Retailers to follow**
Harley & rose.jpg


Blurb


Ever since she was a little girl, thirty-year-old Rose dreamed of the day Harley would carry her across the threshold on their honeymoon. So what if this isn’t her actual wedding day, and that she’s only here because Harley was left at the altar just a few hours earlier?
Trading San Francisco for paradise and swapping her bridesmaid’s bouquet for a Blue Hawaii, Rose hopes she can finally escape the friend zone.
Once upon a time they had been more than friends, but life got in the way. She’s spent every day since wishing Harley would get a clue.
She’s always been his best friend.
He’s always been hers.
She’s in love with him.
He’s … not in love with her.
He’s … marrying someone else.
He’s … hiding something.
He’s … well—it’s complicated.














“Do you love her?”
Harley’s temper flares as he meets my gaze. “Rose—”
“Do you?”
Go Already Tease Harley and Rose Carmen Jenner.jpg
“I don’t know.” He rakes a hand through his hair. A beat later it falls right back in his face. I long to reach out and touch it, but that isn’t my place anymore. “Yeah. I think so. When I’m with her I’m a different man, but when I’m here with you, I’m … I’m me.”
“God,” I breathe. “That’s so much worse.” Fresh tears prick my eyes. I cover my face, as if I could hide my torment or the despair that I feel in this moment.
As if I could hide anything from this man.
“I know.” Sadness chokes his voice, making the words almost impossible to hear. Harley pulls me close, folding me in his arms, holding me the way he has a thousand times before, but this time it’s infinitely different.
This time, it’s the end of us.



bursting tease harley rose carmen jenner.jpg




About the Author

Carmen Jenner is a thirty-something, USA Today and international bestselling author.

Her dark romance, KICK (Savage Saints MC #1), won Best Dark Romance Read in the Reader’s Choice Awards at RWDU, 2015.

A tattoo enthusiast, hardcore makeup addict and zombie fangirl, Carmen lives on the sunny North Coast of New South Wales, Australia, where she spends her time indoors wrangling her two wildling children, a dog named Pikelet, and her very own man-child.

A romantic at heart, Carmen strives to give her characters the HEA they deserve, but not before ruining their lives completely first … because what’s a happily ever after without a little torture?






GIVEAWAY
$25 Amazon Gift Card





A Love Letter to Whiskey by Kandi Steiner - Release Boost









A Love Letter to Whiskey by Kandi Steiner
Release Date: October 13, 2016



Standalone
Genre: Contemporary Romance
About the Book
It’s crazy how fast the buzz comes back after you’ve been sober for so long.

Whiskey stood there, on my doorstep, just like he had one year before. Except this time, there was no rain, no anger, no wedding invitation — it was just us.

It was just him — the old friend, the easy smile, the twisted solace wrapped in a glittering bottle.

It was just me — the alcoholic, pretending like I didn’t want to taste him, realizing too quickly that months of being clean didn’t make me crave him any less.

But we can’t start here.

No, to tell this story right, we need to go back.

Back to the beginning.

Back to the very first drop.

This is my love letter to Whiskey. I only hope he reads it.


US UK CA AU



The first time I tasted Whiskey, I fell flat on my face.

Literally.

I was drunk from the very first sip, and I guess that should have been my sign to stay away.

Jenna and I were running the trail around the lake near her house, sweat dripping into our eyes from the intense South Florida heat. It was early September, but in South Florida, it might as well have been July. There was no “boots and scarves” season, unless you counted the approximately six weeks in January and February where the temperature dropped below eighty degrees.

As it was, we were battling ninety-plus degrees, me trying to be a show off and prove I could keep up with Jenna’s cheerleading training program. She had finally made the varsity squad, and with that privilege came ridiculous standards she had to uphold. I hated running — absolutely loathed it. I would much rather have been on my surf board that day. But fortunately for Jenna, she had a competitive best friend who never turned down a challenge. So when she asked me to train with her, I’d agreed eagerly, even knowing I’d have screaming ribs and calves by the end of the day.
I saw him first.

I was just a few steps ahead of Jenna, and I’d been staring down at my hot pink sneakers as they hit the concrete. When I looked up, he was about fifty feet away, and even from that distance I could tell I was in trouble. He seemed sort of average at first — brown hair, lean build, soaked white running shirt — but the closer he got, the more I realized just how edible he was. I noticed the shift in the muscles of his legs as he ran, the way his hair bounced slightly, how he pressed his lips together in concentration as he neared us.

I looked over my shoulder, attempting to waggle my eyebrows at Jenna and give her the secret best friend code for “hot guy up ahead”, but she had stopped to tie her shoes. And when I turned back around, it was too late.
I smacked into him — hard — and fell to the pavement, rolling a bit to soften the fall. He cursed and I groaned, more from embarrassment than pain. I wish I could say I gracefully picked myself up, smiled radiantly, and asked him for his number, but the truth is I lost the ability to do anything the minute I looked up at him.

It was an unfamiliar, warm ache that spread through my chest as I used my hand to shield the sun streaming in behind his silhouette, just how you’d expect the first sip of whiskey to feel. He was bent over, hand outstretched, saying something that wasn’t registering because I had somehow managed to slip my hand into his and just that one touch had set my skin on fire.

Handsome wasn’t the right word to describe him, but it was all I kept thinking as I traced his features. His hair was a sort of mocha color, damp at the roots, falling onto his forehead just slightly. His eyes were wide — almost too round — and a mixture of gold, green, and the deepest brown. I didn’t coin the nickname Whiskey until much later, but it was that moment that I saw it for the first time — those were whiskey eyes. The kind of eyes you get lost in. The kind that drink you in. He had the longest lashes and a firm, square jaw. It was so hard, the edges so clean that I would have sworn he was angry with me if it weren’t for the smile on his face.He was still talking as my eyes fell over his broad chest before snapping back up to his sideways grin.

“Oh my God, are you fucking blind?!” Jenna’s voice snapped me from my haze as she shoved Whiskey out of the way and latched onto my hand, ripping me back to standing position. I’d barely caught my balance before she whipped around to continue her scolding. “How about you brush that long ass hair out of your eyes and watch where you’re going, huh champ?”

Oh no.

I didn’t even have time to call dibs, I couldn’t even think the word, let alone say it, before it was too late. I watched it, in slow motion, as Whiskey fell for my best friend before I even had the chance to say a single word to him.

Jenna was standing tall, arms crossed, one hip popped in her usual fashion as she waited for him to defend himself. This was her protocol — it was one of the reasons we got along. We were both what you’d call “spitfires”, but Jenna had the distinct advantage of being cripplingly gorgeous on top of having an attitude. She flipped her long, wavy blonde ponytail behind her and cocked a brow.

And then he did, too.


His smile grew wider as he met her eyes, and it was the same look I’d watched fall over guy after countless guy. Jenna was a unicorn, and men were enamored by her. As they should have been — she had platinum blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, legs for days and a personality to boot. Now, before you go thinking that I was the insecure best friend - I had it going on, too. I worked hard, I was talented - just not at the things traditional high school boys valued.

But we’ll get to that.

“Hi,” Whiskey finally said, extending his hand to Jenna this time. His eyes were warm, smile inviting — if I had to pick the right word for him, just one, I’d say charming. He just oozed charm. “I’m Jamie.”

“Well, Jamie, maybe you should make an appointment with the eye doctor before you run over another innocent jogger. And you owe Brecks an apology.” She nodded to me then and I cringed at my name, wondering why she felt the need to spill it at all. She always called me B — everyone did — so why did she choose the moment I was face to face with the first boy to ever make my heart accelerate to use my full name?

Jamie was still grinning, eying Jenna, trying to figure her out, but he turned to me after a moment with that same crooked smile. “I’m sorry, I should have been watching where I was going.” He said the words with conviction, but lifted his brows on that last line because he and I both knew who wasn’t paying attention to the trail, and he wasn’t the guilty party.



“It’s fine,” I murmured, because for some reason I was still having a difficult time finding my voice. Jamie tilted his head just a fraction, his eyes hard on me this time, and I felt naked beneath his gaze. I’d never had anyone look at me that way — completely zeroed in. It was unnerving and exhilarating, too.
But before I could latch onto the feeling, he turned back to Jenna, their eyes meeting as slow smiles spread on both of their faces. I’d seen it a million times, but this was the first time I felt sick watching it happen.

I saw him first, but it didn’t matter.

Because he saw her.










About the Author

Kandi Steiner is a Creative Writing and Advertising/Public Relations graduate from the University of Central Florida living in Tampa with her husband. Kandi works full time as a social media specialist, but also works part time as a Zumba fitness instructor and blackjack dealer.

Kandi started writing back in the 4th grade after reading the first Harry Potter installment. In 6th grade, she wrote and edited her own newspaper and distributed to her classmates. Eventually, the principal caught on and the newspaper was quickly halted, though Kandi tried fighting for her “freedom of press.” She took particular interest in writing romance after college, as she has always been a die hard hopeless romantic (like most girls brought up on Disney movies).

When Kandi isn’t working or writing, you can find her reading books of all kinds, talking with her extremely vocal cat, and spending time with her friends and family. She enjoys beach days, movie marathons, live music, craft beer and sweet wine – not necessarily in that order.


Facebook ✻ Website  ✻ Twitter ✻