It's a #NAChristmas!
Thanks for joining us as we celebrate the holidays with thirteen New Adult authors. Check out every stop leading up to December 24 to get excerpts, exclusive content, and hopefully a cutie under the mistletoe! Be sure to enter the rafflecopter to win a grand prize pack of an ebook from every author!
BLURB FOR PUSH:
I feel like I am wrapped in a cyclone. Everything is whirling around me, drawing the air out of my lungs and filling me with the best kind of turmoil. Every time his tongue slides against mine, a prickle in my gut tells me how right we are together. How much I need David. How much I need us.
I hope the cyclone never stops.
Emma Searfoss has spent a lifetime trying to escape her abusive stepfather. It's why she moved far away from home. It's why she's kept no ties with her remaining family. And it's why she's got a major rage problem. When her neighbor shows up to fix the kitchen in her new apartment, his enigmatic charm calms the fire in her. David is cool and collected, and he makes Emma feel safe for the first time ever. But David has his own chilling past—his six previous girlfriends have all disappeared without a trace. Emma's walking a dangerous line, but David's pull is intoxicating. And impossible to resist…
Excerpt of PUSH by Claire Wallis
"Hey," he says, with both hands in his pockets now.
"Hey," I say. "Everything okay?" He looks a little shaken. Or maybe I am just overly sensitive because of last night's online revelation. I don't know.
"Yeah. Everything's fine," he says with resignation. "I was just talking to Carl. We’re thinking of moving our poker game to different digs, and he isn't happy about it. That’s what Brad and I had to deal with yesterday. Carl can't fucking stumble home drunk if we go to this new place. He's such an ass."
"Yeah, I only met him twice, but he definitely set off my ass alarm. I can spot them a mile away."
David's face lightens immediately. "Ass alarm, huh? Is that like Gay-dar?"
"Yeah, kinda. Only an ass alarm is far more valuable. Keeps out the riffraff." I am smiling now, and David's head sinks to his chest and shakes back and forth. I think he is laughing at me, and frankly, I deserve it. Ass alarm. God, I am a loser.
"Good to know you've got one of those. I'll have to watch myself," he says, raising his head. "I guess all those shitty-ass boyfriends you had really lit it up, didn’t they?"
"Like a goddamned Christmas tree."
He is grinning again and shaking his head. I turn around and walk back into my apartment. I hear him follow me and close the door behind him.
"So, we still on for dinner tonight?" he asks. "You wanna just stay in and get some pizza or something?"
"Sure," I say, stopping short of the kitchen and turning to him, "and maybe we can watch one of the hundreds of man movies you've got up there. It was like a big box of testosterone. I grew hair on my chest just looking at them." I am teasing him, and I'm not quite sure how he is going to take it.
"Hair on your chest, huh? You should check out the other box of movies I've got up there. They'll make your hairy chest blush." Ahhh, so he does have a box of porn. I knew it.
"I doubt it. My brothers got the best of me already on that front. I stopped blushing at porn when I was eleven."
I don't think David knows what to say in response to my remark, so instead of talking, he comes over, wraps his arms around me, and kisses the top of my head. He holds me like this for a minute or two, then lets go and steps back.
"I'm sorry," he says.
We spend the evening eating pizza and watching Dirty Harry. When the movie is over, we sit on my couch, talking. We talk about our favorite movies, our middle names and our mutual love of Cheetos. David makes me laugh. Makes me feel at home. Makes me feel comfortable in my own company. There is something about him that is so real, so solid. He is soothing, which sounds utterly ridiculous, but I don't know how else to describe his temperament. I feel natural talking to him. It is genuine and sincere. And even though I am looking for sorrow, I don't see a single hint of it. At least not when he is with me. He is right. We are pretty great together.
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About the Author:
Claire Wallis has penned hundreds of magazine and newspaper articles over the last ten years, with science playing the lead role in almost all of them. Though non-fiction writing will forever be her first love, fiction has unexpectedly swooped in, hooked her by the soul, and become her true love. As a result of this coup d’état, Claire’s writing career has made a complete U-turn, and instead of rocks, plants, insects, and microbes, she is now putting human characters in the lead.
Claire’s previous jobs include working at a limestone quarry, hawking vegetables at a farmer’s market, clerking at the dollar store, and convincing new mothers that they need to renew their subscription to that parenting magazine in order for their child to survive. She lives in Pennsylvania with her amazingly awesome husband and son.
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