Excerpts:
Blake
I cracked my knuckles
and waited for Andrew to take his tongue out of my ex’s mouth.
He
wiped his lips with the back of his hand, and a wide grin spread across his
pretty-boy face.
Fucker.
“Hey,
Blake! Have you met Payton Daniels?” Andrew motioned to the girl who left me
broken and forgotten.
Yes. I
knew her all too well. I chuckled at the irony of the halo perched atop her
auburn hair, the soft curls cascading over her shoulder. How could I forget
her? When I flew to Mexico for my graduation trip, she was my loving
girlfriend. And when I got back… Well, I came back to nothing.
Her
green eyes opened so wide they looked like they might pop out of her head. Yeah,
I’m surprised to see you, too, little Miss Runaway.
Wait,
Daniels? That was her mom’s last name, not her dad’s. Interesting. Stretching
my neck, I decided I needed to keep cool. I couldn’t freak out on her, not
here. Her hand on Andrew’s abs was all the explanation I needed, making my time
spent agonizing about what I could have done differently the past two years a
complete waste.
“No,
I’ve
never met Payton Daniels before.” Payton flinched when I emphasized her
last name. Of course she did. To me, she would always be Payton Cooper. I’d go
along with her charade for now. Her pleading look liquefied some of the ice
that had hardened my heart the past couple years.
The
ice wall solidified again when Andrew slid his arm around Payton’s waist. She
leaned in to his touch, and I wanted to punch a hole through a wall.
I
stuck out my hand, pretending I had never met her. She extended hers, and we
shook. “Nice to meet you.” My thumb skimmed over her knuckles, and her skin,
albeit a little clammy, was just as soft as I remembered.
Payton’s
voice cracked. “Nice to meet you, too.” She started to pull her hand away, but
I tightened my grip. Her mouth thinned into a hard, narrow line as she stared
at our interlocked hands.
Seriously?
What did she have to be mad about? My stomach muscles tensed like I had done
ten rounds of 8 Minute Abs, and the dormant anger that lingered in every
crevice of my body heated to a steady simmer, ready to erupt.
I let
go of her hand, and she smiled at Andrew, batting her eyes. What a bitch. Who
did she think she was, prancing in here, going googly-eyed for the fraternity’s
token manwhore? The lingering warmth of her touch burned my clenched fist.
“Blake
and I are fraternity brothers.” He stuck out his hand, and we did the A Sig
handshake.
I
figured small talk would tear her focus away from blatantly eyeing Andrew’s
abs. Her hand kept sliding across his stomach like a windshield wiper set to
slow-mo. “Payton, what’s your major?”
Andrew’s
eyes laser focused on her cleavage, and I was two seconds away from tearing one
of the cardboard clouds off the wall and beating him over the head with it. I
couldn’t stand the way he looked at her, the same way he looked at every other
girl he was about to—in his words—take to “pleasure town.” This also meant I’d
be kicked out of our room for the night.
“I’m
majoring in biology with a focus on pre-med.” Her response was robotic. This
had been her answer since middle school. Right up until she did her little
disappearing act. And now she had magically reappeared.
Abraca-fuckin-dabra.
Payton
My pillow was wet and
stuck to my face. I inhaled, and my nose wrinkled as the stench of beer,
Kool-Aid, and—French fries?—stung my nostrils.
“Morning,
sunshine.” Jules handed me a red Gatorade and ruffled my hair. She was eating
curly fries and swiveled from side to side in my computer chair, the motion
making me seasick. She shoved a fry in my mouth. “It’s good for your hangover.
Eat up.”
I
peeled my cheek off the fabric, chewed the fry, and sat up. Immediately, I laid
back down and pulled the covers over my head, the material cold and damp
against my skin. What the hell? With a dull ache in my hip and my head
throbbing like it was having its own techno rave, it made it impossible to
recount the events of the frat party. Crap.
What did I do?
“This
is embarrassing, but what happened last night?” I pushed my comforter off and
took a swig of Gatorade to dilute the stale alcohol taste in my mouth. I didn’t
remember anything after seeing Blake at the party.
Crap, Blake. What
if he blew my cover?
“Let’s
see. You got insanely drunk and were carried home by a total hottie.”
Oh,
good. Andrew took me home. The night couldn’t have been that bad if he was
there to take care of me.
“What’d
you think of Andrew? So sweet, right?”
She
raised her brow and stared at me like I’d lost my mind. “I’m talking about that
guy with the cross tattoo on his smokin’ bicep.”
Shit. “Blake?” I squeaked and buried my head into my palms, pressing so hard
my headache was momentarily overridden by the black spots swarming across my
eyelids.
She
grabbed another curly fry and plopped it into her mouth. “Yeah, that’s it. Nice
guy. I’m not religious, but he can make me praise God any day of the week.”
I frowned
at the thought of Jules with Blake. He wasn’t religious, but his mom was a
devout Roman Catholic. Never missed a Mass in her life. He got that tattoo
after his mom died when he was sixteen—I would know; I went with him. Somehow,
he talked the guy into tattooing him, even though, technically, people had to
be eighteen in California to get ink. But that was Blake; he could talk someone
into doing just about anything.
Shifting
to get out of bed, I cringed as the fabric of my boxers pulled on my skin. I looked
down to see a reddish-brown stain on the side of my shorts. Blood.
“Why
the hell am I bleeding?” The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I
waited for her response.
Jules’s
smile turned into a Cheshire cat grin. Oh great.
“You
insisted on swinging around the light pole like a stripper and fell on your
ass. You even referred to yourself as ‘Wanda.’” She threw her head back and
cackled.
Oh. My. God.
Could
I seriously climb any higher on the embarrassment scale? Doubtful.
“Blake
was really sweet and carried you up to the room and tucked you in. He got you a
glass of water and everything.” I spotted the cup in the corner of my bed,
which explained the wet comforter and pillow mystery.
“You
kept saying how sorry you were. I don’t know what you had to be sorry about. I
mean, we just met the guy, but I told him that you’d make it up to him by
helping him out in medical ethics.”
He had
class with me? How had I not seen him in class on Friday? There were only forty
students since it was an upper-level class.
I
groaned and took another sip of Gatorade. “Oh, goody.”
This
was bad. So bad. Blake would want an explanation for going off the grid. I owed
him one, but I couldn’t even explain if I tried. Then again, he also had some
explaining to do.
How
was I going to face him? Or Andrew?
by Stephen King!! Ewwww just look at that cover.
What happened to Matt?
The companion novel to Painted Faces...can't wait!!
Gideon, Gideon, Gideon!
series and loved them both, so I'm on a roll right now.
and 
.
One of my favorites! Such a beautiful story. Buy on Amazon.
Buy on Amazon.
by Holly Hood and loving it! I may write a few thoughts about the book but I'm definitely going to continue on with the series and decided to write my review for the series as a whole. I think this is a great time of year to read it too, and I didn't even plan it that way. ;)
Oh how I hate to love Hudson Pierce and love to hate him. What a messed up individual. I'm really happy we got a book about him there was so much more to Hudson than you got in the Fixed series ,
and like I said I thought his POV was essential. This book is all three books in one, it alternates from his present to his past which is primarily him and Celia. I found myself feeling sorry for Celia at one point but that quickly passed. She is not an easy woman to feel sorry for. Hudson shows Celia how to manipulate and control people and they work together on many people doing very hurtful things. It is a game to both...Hudson sees it as more of a science, a study of people, where Celia wants to hurt people and see them hurting. Neither one is justifiable but Celia was truly vengeful whereas Hudson was just emotionally closed off. The part in the book I was most looking forward to reading from Hudson's POV was when everyone was at his house accusing and confronting Alayna about her supposedly stalkerish behavior. I am so glad we got to read what Hudson was thinking and feeling at that time. I remember while reading that scene the first time around how hard my heart was pounding and bad I felt for Alayna. I did feel this book dragged on at times but overall I was pleased with Hudson's side of the story. It was nice to see that he actually lost control of himself and his feelings when he thought he didn't have them in the first place. Was Hudson a sociopath and narcissist? I feel like he was, but can a true sociopath really change? I'm not sure? And he definitely changed. He grew, he healed, he loved. Whatever definition it is he was pretty despicable and Celia was worse because she never felt remorse and didn't want to change.
lovers and Crossfire 
lovers. After this book I have a few review copies to read and I also plan on starting Holly Hood's Ink series.
Synopsis:
AUTHOR BIO:
