That.” The crazy gleam left his eye, and there he was again. It was such a relief to see his face looking so tender, I decided partial truth was the best I could manage. “But I think he wants to be friendly again. He wants you and him to get along. I think.” I wanted to tell him more. I wanted to pour my heart and soul out to him, but there was too much at stake, too much to lose.
“Why were you so upset about that?” Jake dipped his head to look at me. “Because” I was standing right on the line of truth and lies. I didn’t want to have Saxon come between me and Jake, but telling Jake might blow everything up. He needed to make peace with Saxon. “Because I don’t think Saxon likes me very much. And I think that’s standing in the way of him reaching out to you.” He looked at me for a long minute, and I expected him to call me on my bald lie and walk away. Instead he smiled.
I looked at his adorable chipped tooth and thought of Saxon’s fist making it. “You’re so wrong.” Jake laughed.
“Saxon likes you. A whole lot more than makes me comfortable, actually. I can see it in the way he looks at you. He’s not used to not getting what he wants.
But you’re mine.” And the glint was back, this time not as maniacal, but still pretty damn unsettling. “Maybe we can just come to a truce?” I begged. “Whatever makes you happy,” Jake said with an easy smile.
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“C’mon out here. I’ve got a big surprise for you.” We left the school and went to the parking lot. Jake led me to a big blue truck with huge tires, chipped paint, a crack in the windshield, and a huge bench seat with a few obviously patched tears. I looked at it for a long minute, then remembered where I had seen it. It was one of the few pictures on Jake’s Facebook page. How did you get it here?” “I became a full time worker at Zinga’s last week.” He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and slid out a small plastic card. I took it from his hand and saw his face, looking uncharacteristically stern.
“This is a license,” I said stupidly. “A farmer’s license,” he explained. “They only give it out if you can prove you work full time on a farm or your family operates one. That’s why I had to run in early yesterday. I wanted” He ran a hand through his hair shyly. “I wanted to pick you up this morning, but I knew you were probably pretty pissed at me.” “Jake,” I breathed, and threw my arms around him.
“I’m so happy for you. You’ve been dying for your license!” “I know.” He smiled that big dopey grin I loved. “It’s less than a month to my birthday, but I’m glad I got it a little earlier.” He pressed me up against the passenger side door. “I know you aren’t a bad girl” His voice rumbled low in my ears. “But didn’t you say something about skipping school once in a while?” “Are you asking me to skip with you, Jake Kelly?” He smelled like clean soap, mint, sweat: Jake. I couldn’t resist him.
Just as easily as I’d pushed Saxon away, I pulled Jake in. “I think I will.” “Where’s your coat?” Jake pulled me around to the passenger’s side. “I left it at school.” Jake looked at me questioningly, but he didn’t press. “Well, let’s go and get it.” He helped me into the truck and got in on the driver’s side. It was sexy watching him drive.
Jake was the kind of guy who was born to drive. It was probably genetically programmed into him to be an amazing driver, and he did it really well, like it was no big deal. We pulled around the school and he parked, hopped out, and threw my bike in the back.
Then we drove to Frankford and Jake walked in with me. He handed me a hall pass. “Where did you get this?” I stared at the little green pass. “All county high schools use the same ones.” He smiled sheepishly. “I swiped mine from the front office at the beginning of the year.” I shook my head and filled them out. We shouldn’t have worried about it. The halls were empty.
We headed down the back hall to my locker and were ready to leave two minutes later, when a familiar voice broke through our self-enforced quiet. “Hey Jake.” Saxon leaned lazily against the wall.
His eyes flicked to me. “Blix.” It was like he’d appeared out of nowhere. Jake threw him a stony look. “We were just going, Saxon.” I shoved my arms into my jacket and grabbed my backpack from Jake’s hands. Jake had that weird Jekyll and Hyde gleam in his eye. I’ve got something to say to Saxon first.” Jake stomped close to him.
“Stay away from Brenna, you lying bastard.” Saxon didn’t even cringe, and Jake looked big and fierce. “I’m pretty sure Brenna can determine who she wants to be around for herself, Jake. Or don’t you trust her?” He looked at me, his smile menacing and gorgeous.
“I mean, you two are always honest with each other, right? No half-truths.” “Shut your damn mouth!” Jake yelled and slammed Saxon up against the lockers. “You always had that ability, didn’t you?” He was right in Saxon’s face, and Saxon traded his lazy look for a predatory snarl. It was impossible to tell who was more furious. “You could turn any situation in your favor.
You could make anyone swallow your bullshit and believe it was the truth. Not me, not anymore.” “You don’t know anything,” Saxon spat, shoving Jake back. All of his cool completely evaporated and was replaced by a boiling swell of emotions. “I watched your back, brother.
I kept you out of trouble.” Saxon shoved Jake again. “You introduced me to every stupid thing I ever did.” Jake growled, grabbing a fistful of Saxon’s shirt and shaking him hard. “I should have lost you years ago. You’re a parasite.” Jake opened his hands and let Saxon go.
After a few heavy breaths, Saxon’s cocky smile came back out. He straightened his shirt and shook the hair out of his eyes, then ran a look from my head to my toes that made a blush burn on my skin. But don’t think you’re going to tell me who to like or not. And we’ll let the lady decide in the end. Best man wins?” His look was all swaggering arrogance. I was torn between fear that he’d tell Jake the secrets we had and the urge to do it myself.
I hated that he knew he had a stacked deck. Jake was furious, his fists balled. “Come on, Jake,” I willed him.
“If a teacher finds us, we’re all screwed. Let’s go now.” “I’ll call you later, Brenna.” Saxon grinned and smacked his lips at me in a kissy face. Jake was at him in a split second, his fist flying through the air and straight into Saxon’s jaw. I heared the thick thud of skin and bone crashing against itself. “Jake!” I cried. Just then a teacher appeared at the end of the hall. “What’s going on down there?” Saxon stood up woozily and moved his jaw back and forth a few times.
I was just headed to calculus.” He pointed up. Before he walked away, he spit a tooth on the floor.
“You two, get a move on!” the teacher snapped, looking absently at our passes. I bent down and grabbed the tooth before he noticed it. We ducked into the stairwell, waited a minute, the slid out the side doors while no one was looking. Jake and I ran back to the truck. He still opened my door, though I would have preferred for him to step on it and rush a little. “Have you been talking to Saxon?” Jake asked, his voice cold. It was truth time.
“I want to tell you” Jake cut in. “Never mind, Brenna.
That’s exactly what Saxon would want. Me to doubt you.” He shook his head. He knows what he’s doing five moves ahead of everyone else.
Don’t even acknowledge I just asked you anything.” I clamped my mouth shut and held it shut. What else was I supposed to do? “You hit him really hard,” I said softly.
“I’m sorry, Bren.” He leaned his forehead on the steering wheel and shook his head from side to side. “I dropped my basket. Are you alright?” “Sort of.” I felt tears prick my eyes. “I’ve never seen you just lose it like that.” I opened my fist. Saxon’s shiny white tooth was in my hand. “Saxon’s tooth.” Jake swallowed so hard I could see his Adam’s apple jump. “That was pretty Biblical of you, Jake.” We both looked at the white calcified piece of Saxon.
“A tooth for a tooth. Holy crap.” Jake shook his head. “I guess I should just let it go with Saxon now. I’m sorry you’re in his classes.
I’m sure I made this a shitstorm for you.” He pulled out and drove slowly, focused on the road and all the thoughts I’m sure were running through his head. I unclipped my seatbelt, slid to the middle, buckled the lap belt, and leaned against Jake’s upper body.
He felt good and solid under my cheek. I dropped the tooth into the rusted ashtray. “Don’t worry. It will be fine.” I hoped it would be.
I debated telling Jake about the government project, but I didn’t know if I should. I didn’t know if maybe I should just bury it with all of my other Saxon secrets. It was hard to know. We drove for a while and finally pulled into a local state park overlook.
The lot was completely empty. Below us was the spread of trees, gold and red and orange in the afternoon sun. Jake turned the engine off and grabbed an old blanket from the back. He took my seatbelt off and made me lay down on his lap, my head nestled against the muscles of his thighs.
He ran his hand along the lines of my face. “My race is in a few days,” he said in the quiet of the cab. “Are you excited?” I tilted my head to look up at his face. “Yeah,” he said, but his voice was a little dull for Jake.
“I don’t really know if I’m ready.” “Maybe you should practice. Is that how it works?” I rubbed my hand under his shirt, along the hot, soft skin of his stomach.
“Yeah.” He laughed, but it was muted. “But I don’t have a lot of time now. I’m bumped to full time at Zinga’s.
Just getting the day off for the race was a big deal.” “So, no weekends together for a while?” My heart sank a little. “Sorry, Bren. But now I can drive you back and forth to school.” His palm scratched along my cheek, and I pushed my face against it. “Jake, I can’t take rides back and forth with you.” “Why?” His voice was clipped, because he knew the answer. “Mom will not be cool with it.
And you’ll be going out of your way. It’s too much time added on to your day.” His hand stopped for a few seconds, then he started rubbing my head. “You were pretty pissed at me when I said I didn’t want to go farther, uh, physically.” “Yeah.” I felt a deep hussy blush. “Sorry.” “You are not.” He looked down at me, his wide grin. “It’s okay, you don’t need to be.
I should have been more sensitive about your feelings, and I wasn’t.” I sat up on one elbow and craned my neck to look at him. “This isn’t an apology, is it?” He shook his head and said, “Nope. It’s a point.
If I’m going to try to respect your wishes even though it makes me uncomfortable, shouldn’t you do the same for me?” “So you want me to be cool with you getting a lot less sleep and spending a fortune in gas?” I crossed my arms, annoyed. And I’ll try to be cool about you throwing yourself at me.” I slapped him on the arm, and he laughed. I sat up and twisted myself around so I was facing him, and then nestled myself on his lap, my legs on either side of him and my knees pressed on the worn seat. The steering wheel was close at my back, so I was squashed against Jake. “I’ll let you pick me up tomorrow.” I ran my finger down his nose and to his lips, then pressed on them to keep him quiet. “But you have to wait at the end of the road for me.
I’m not going to have this fight with Mom. And I promise I will ask her if you can pick me up on Saturday.” He kissed my finger. “Thank you.” “Don’t thank me,” I warned. “It’s a trade.” He closed his gray eyes and groaned.
“What do you want?” “A lot of guys would be happy to have such a shameless girlfriend,” I balked. “Well, I’m not one of them,” he growled. “We don’t have to rush things. There’s plenty of time.” And behind his caution for me, I could see a caution for himself. It had never really occurred to me how nervous this all might make him. “Are you nervous?” Way to go, super-direct Brenna.
“Maybe I am,” he said, his smile a little embarrassed. “When you’re drunk, you always have this feeling like you’re the man. But maybe I’m not the man, you know? Maybe it was all an illusion.” His hands moved up and down on my back, rubbing in wide circles through my hair and shirt. “I don’t have a lot of experience, but I think you’re better than your hype,” I said honestly.
He kissed me softly. I want to be good for you.” “You are.” I pressed against him. “But?” he asked, his voice husky. “You could always improve. With practice.” I leaned my head to kiss him.
My hair fell forward and brushed his face. His hands moved up my back and slipped up my neck then under my hair. He cradled my head, kissing me softly and surely. He pulled back. “What do you want, shameless hussy?” He kissed my nose.
“What I did for you,” I demanded, trying to keep my voice from wavering. Because, of course, I was nervous.
He kissed me harder then, rubbed his hands over me, moved them under my shirt and beneath my bra. I pressed against him and his kissing got erratic, his lips rubbing my face, cheeks, and neck. He moved his head down and pulled my shirt up. He looked at me, his eyes worried with questions. He pulled my shirt over my head, unsnapped my bra without fumbling and pulled me closer on his lap in the chilly afternoon light. His hands were on my back.
He rubbed up and down slowly and made my skin a rash of goosebumps. He looked at my body for a long time. His hand shook when he brought it up to my breast, his fingers careful on my skin. I felt a shiver erupt over my skin where he touched me and where I wished he would. Without looking away, Jake reached for the blanket and draped it over my shoulders. I saw him swallow hard before he moved his head down and kissed me on my breastplate.
He leaned his forehead against me, and I felt his breath warm on my skin. Then he was kissing, kissing all over, and it was really good. I leaned into him, and just when I thought it couldn’t feel any better, he opened his mouth and sucked on my nipple. I could feel it get wet and hot between my legs, and that was becoming familiar to me now. His hands cupped my breasts and his mouth licked and kissed me, then sucked hard and once in a while he pulled away and groaned. I rubbed my body against his, not completely sure what I was doing, but just going on what made me feel good, then better. His mouth still on my breasts, Jake slid his hand down and undid the button on my jeans, then slid the zipper down.
He moved his big, rough-skinned hand down, underneath my underwear line. My eyes opened wide when I felt his fingers slide against me.
He pushed them in deep, where I was completely wet, and then slid out and rubbed against where I felt most sensitive. He pulled his mouth away from my breasts and watched me closely. His fingers moved around, sometimes feeling uncomfortable, sometimes feeling so good, it made me close my eyes and pant a little. He took his cues from me, repeating whatever made me squirm and grab hard at his arms. Soon he had set up a rhythm, and I felt like his hand was some kind of key, unlocking something I had always wanted to feel, but hadn’t known how to get. And then there was the feeling I had yesterday, but this time it shook my whole body.
It felt like every muscle in me clenched hard, then relaxed and melted. I cried out and threw myself against Jake. He pulled his hand away, and I lay against him, breathing heavily. “Are you alright?” he asked into my hair. “I think I came.” My body felt like I had just stepped out of a warm bath or plunged down a log flume or eaten the most amazing piece of chocolate cake with whipped cream, or maybe all of those at once and better. It was weird and awesome all at the same time. I could tell.” I laughed too.
“I love you, Jake.” “I love you, too.” He kissed my mouth, then found my bra and held it up, at a total loss for what to do with it. “Um, I have no idea how this goes on.” I laughed and shrugged it over my shoulders, then reached around my back and snapped the clasp back in. “You’re an old pro at taking them off, aren’t you?” “I can’t believe you put it back on that fast.” His hands turned my shoulders so he could look at the closed clasp.
“I wear one every day, Jake. When you first wear one, most girls put it on backwards, then move it around.” “But you’re a pro now.” He ran one finger under my strap.
“I’ve had boobs for about four years.” I cupped my pink polka-dot bra covered ones in my hands. “They’re not much, but I like them.” “They’re really nice,” Jake said, a blush on his face. He smiled at my laughter. “Seriously, they’re the most perfect boobs I’ve ever seen.” I laughed giddily as Jake pulled my shirt over my head. I loved him, and it felt so good. My body felt new, the way it had after a few months in Denmark with a different diet and exercise, but this change had been almost instant.
I felt like me, but better. “You’re still hard.” I kissed his neck. “No way.” He lifted me off of his lap and sat me back on the seat. “It doesn’t always have to be about me. I haven’t always been able to stop when I needed to. This is good practice.” I rolled my eyes.
“You’re just a chicken.” “Because you’re such a temptress?” he said softly, his hand on my cheek. “God, you’re so pretty, Brenna.” And it was definitely the perfect thing to say. Because I melted right there and stopped arguing with him, and we kissed for a long time. In fact we kissed for so long, I lost track of time entirely. “What time is it, do you think?” I blinked in the warm, low sun.
He checked his cell phone. Now.” We rearranged ourselves into normal sitting positions. Jake turned the key and the engine purred with a loud rumble. He started to pull out of the parking spot, then looked over at me. “Where do you need to go?” “Wait a minute.” I pulled out my phone and dialed my mom.“Hey Mom.” I wondered if her mom radar would be up. I wondered if she’d know I spent the afternoon letting a boy kiss my breasts instead of going to class.
“Hey baby,” she said absently. “I’m headed to the office to get some things in order. Class starts Monday.” “Oh, you should go and get ready. I was just going to say I think I might go out for cross country after all. They have tryouts this afternoon.” “Good, honey. I’m glad you’re getting into a sport.
I think you’ll enjoy it.” “I hope so.” I stopped. There was so much I should tell her, so much I felt uncomfortable keeping from my mother, the woman I loved and respected more than anyone. But there was a rift between us now that would never close. She and I would never be as close as we had been, and as sad as it made me, I knew it was all just a part of growing up and letting go. “Anyway, I’ll take the late bus probably. But I’ll have my phone on.” “I can come pick you up, honey.
I don’t have to stay late here if you need me.” Mom’s voice was sweet and pleasant on the line. “Don’t worry about it tonight, Mom.
I don’t really know the schedule, so I can’t even tell you a time yet. But I might need a ride once I know how things work.” Mom sighed. “Alright, sweetie.” “What’s wrong, Mom?” “Nothing,” she said, her voice high and tight. “Sometimes I just wish you were a little girl again and we spent all day together.” I blinked against the scratch of tears.
“Mom, I love you. You know that.” “I do,” she said, and I could hear her smile. “I love you, Brenna.” “Let’s do something on Sunday.” I really wanted to spend some time with her, just the two of us together. “That would be really nice, baby.” We said our good-byes and I slumped back in the seat.
Jake looked over at me expectantly. “You alright?” “Just feeling sad. Just missing hanging out with my mom all the time like I used to. But it’s stupid. I mean, I’m happy with how everything is now. I’m just being stupid.” I took two quick swipes at my eyes with the backs of my hands to sop up the tears.
“It’s not stupid at all. I know how much your family means to you, and I’m sorry you guys haven’t been able to spend as much time together as before. That sucks.” He looked ahead to give me time to dry my tears in peace. “I’m going to Frankford,” I said, needing to change the subject.
“I’m trying out for cross country.” He looked over at me and smiled. “So you decided? You’re definitely trying out?” “Yeah.
I’m really good at distance running. Anyway, with you and Mom and Thorsten working all the time, I need to do something to keep myself busy.” “Sounds good.” Jake slid me a look that was all sexy mischief. “Do you wear those really short shorts?” I remembered Saxon asking the same question and rolled my eyes. This isn’t the 1970s. At least, I hope not.” I realized that if I’d ever seen the official school cross country uniform, I didn’t remember what it looked like. We pulled up at Frankford.
“I’m at work until seven. I know you’ll get out earlier, but if you need a ride, call me.” I leaned over and kissed him. “Thanks for today. I really liked skipping with you.” “I really liked it too.” He held my hand for a second. I got out and went around for my bike.
“Don’t.” Jake leaned out the window and waved me on. “I’ll drop it by your house on my way to work.” “Thanks!” I watched him pull away, happy we had been able to spend the day together and nervous to face Coach Dunn. I wasn’t even sure what day exactly tryouts were. I hoped I hadn’t had Jake drop me off for nothing. I really did want to run. If I wasn’t going to be riding into school, I needed to do something to keep my body in shape, and running seemed like a good, mindless alternative. I would have to make sure I didn’t wind up doing anything stupid, like getting hooked into a relay or jumping hurdles, if that’s even what you did in cross country.
Before I went in, I checked my pocket. I had Saxon’s tooth in it. Somehow, I hadn’t been able to leave it in Jake’s ashtray. Saxon had definitely provoked the punch, but I had a feeling it had been his intention to do that the entire time. Like, if Jake got a good shot in, maybe Saxon could feel like the score was settled.
I headed towards the gym, unsure where to go or what to do. Coach Dunn found me immediately. “Blixen!” she yelled. “Get on your practice clothes and stretch. Make sure you do a full set; I don’t need you pulling anything.
Then get running.” “Am I in time for tryouts?” She looked at me for a minute. “Let’s say you tried out in class.
You’re on the team. We practice every day after school until five. Think you can handle it?” She put her hands on her hips, her legs wide apart.
For all of her rough, muscled, tan sporty looks, she had this amazing golden blonde, shiny hair that looked fabulous and soft no matter how hard she tried to plaster it to her head. “Yes.” I pointed to the locker room and jogged towards it. “I’ll go change!” I called over my shoulder. I changed into my practice clothes in the empty locker room. When I got out to the track, there were people everywhere, running laps, doing sets of pushups, running relays.
I saw that the track was around the soccer field. They were out there bashing soccer balls off of their heads and knees and chests and into each other and grunting, and in the middle of it all was Saxon. I wondered if he still felt woozy from getting punched in the face. I decided ignoring him was probably the best thing I could do.
I put my iPod in, pulled my hood up and started running. Soon I was breathing in a quick rhythm and everything around me faded. I thought about Jake in my bed, in his truck, on the phone, in class. My heart pounded to the thoughts of him, and soon I had to stop running and panted, hunched over, on the edge of the track.
“What’s up, Blixen?” Coach Dunn called. “Outofbreath” I sputtered. She power walked over to me and squatted down so she could watch my wheezes.
“You need to try double clutching.” I shook my head and gasped in an attempt to tell her I didn’t understand. “Double clutch. Two breaths in, one out. Two in, one out. It will keep you from hyperventilating on the track.” She clapped me on the back.
“Get to it!” I stumbled to my feet while my muscles were still warm and propelled myself forward. Two breaths in, one out. My thoughts wandered back to Jake, but this time I checked my breathing before things got too crazy.
Two breaths in, one out. I managed to get on pace and let my body fly, while my brain focused on my boyfriend.
But that was euphoric thinking, and it was like my brain could only handle so much of that before it forced something less savory on me. I started to think about my mom, how I was lying to her all of the time, sneaking around and hiding things. We had been so close a few weeks ago, there was no one in the world I could confide in more, and now we were so separated. I felt an anvil of guilt on my chest about Sunday, because even though I knew I’d have so much fun with her, I also knew I’d be thinking about Jake the entire time and wanting to be with him. He was like some insane addiction.
I craved him, and the more I had of him, the worse the cravings got. After my brain hammered out all of my shuddering maternal-based guilt, it brought me back to my love/hate thought obsession: Saxon Maclean. I thought about Jake’s fierce insistence that Saxon was just playing one big head game, but my heart couldn’t believe that. Not entirely. He had opened up to me.
He had done things that made no sense, which was not unusual for Saxon, but some of the senseless things had done nothing to benefit him. Why would he do that?
When he talked about Jake and how everything had fallen apart, he wasn’t acting. I knew that for sure. Even Saxon wasn’t that good.
He let himself be Jake’s fall guy. He could have come out and told Jake about our kiss, the rides home, but he just played on Jake’s hatred and let him take another swing. If Jake was going to feel any anger at me, it was all gone, replaced by anger at Saxon.
Double Clutch Liz Reinhardt Pdf Editor Online
Why would he do that unless he really cared about Jake? I was lost in the tangle of it. I was nervous about the calls and the ridiculous government date. I had never seen Saxon so determined.
If he still had it in his head to win this thing, he would. I hoped Saxon would let me go now, but I didn’t think it was likely.
Finally, I was broken out of my reverie by Coach Dunn waving her arms at me. I put my hand along my back and yanked my earbuds out. “Sorry coach.” I breathed heavily “Good job, Blixen.” She scowled and shook her head. I thought for a minute she was being sarcastic.
“Really good time. You’re improving a little with every run.” She clapped me on the shoulder. “See you tomorrow.” I jogged into the locker room and changed. I didn’t feel like showering anywhere other than my comfy home shower with all of my good shampoos and soaps. Besides, I hated putting my feet down anywhere really grimy and gross, like the concrete of a high school shower stall.
I was on my way out and wondering how long the late bus would take when I ran into Saxon.
Hello, friends! Thank you all for being so cool and patient after I announced a book release date and then seemingly fell of the edge of the earth! I was actually battling a family flu, writing and editing, and poking my itchy ears with Q-tips until I developed a nasty ear infection. Word of warning: Q-tips are to be used gently, lovas, so gently! So there is some fantastic news to announce. First and foremost, I'd like to tell my UK/Australia/Ireland/Falkland Island readers why they can't seem to get a hold of my books. The incredibly cool team at Random House UK swooped in and asked if I'd like to work with them.
Which means that some of my titles ( Double Clutch, Junk Miles, Slow Twitch, and Fall Guy) will be available in stores in the UK and assorted territories! Which is super exciting and makes me so happy. Random House UK is filled with passionate, book-loving people and I'm truly pleased we're working together! It does put a snafu in what I can release where, and for that I'm sorry. I can't tell you how much I love you all, and how amazing it is to have people in other countries waiting on my books. I can promise to keep you updated, and I can tell you that they have been unbelievably quick and eager to get the books out.which is, again, beyond rad!
One very fun tweak is that my books are getting new covers! Would you like to see the first two?? Well, here you go! Funny story.I actually had this exact couple saved in a file for use on a Youngblood cover that I hadn't ordered yet.
So, yes, apparently the art team at Random House UK and I are psychically connected. Isn't she GORGEOUS!! Like Brenna, but all glammed up for an exciting night dancing in London. Beyond my exciting UK news, Benelli and Cormac's book Perfectly Unmatched is out for limited territories on Amazon! I'm sorry to those of you who can't access it yet, but I promise it's coming widespread soon! Despite coughing up a lung while writing this, I loved every minute of this book.
I love Benelli and Cormac as a couple.they may have made me laugh more than any couple has before. I loved the changes the Youngblood family went through.they're learning and growing every day! And I loved getting to visit with Winch and Evan, getting to see a whole new side of Lala, getting to know them all in a different way. It was an awesome experience, and I hope you love it as much as I did! There has been much coolness in life recently!! I got a new baby niece last night.she had a bit of a tough time at first, but she's doing great and is a gorgeous little monkey I cannot WAIT to meet. I'd already be holding her, but my daughter would go nuts if she found out I visited a baby without her;)!
Hey baby girl!! She had a rough time coming into the world, and her arm is bandaged because of a broken clavicle.but she's on the mend, doing awesome now, and I can't wait to snoogle her;)! Babies are rad, right?! And I'm feeling warm fuzzies.
My writing partner and amazing friend, Steph Campbell got a deal through Simon and Schuster UK for Grounding Quinn and Delicate. I fell in love with Steph over Quinn, then helped beta Syd's story, so these two books hold a special place in my heart, and now they will hold a special place on bookshelves in the UK. Which means.STEPH AND LIZ UK TRIP!! I think it would be super awesome to go stroke their glossy covers overseas! Not only did Steph get this great deal, but S&S was smart enough to scoop up Abbi Glines, Nicole Williams, and Jamie McGuire, too!! Talk about an author list full of AWESOME!! I could not be prouder of these incredibly talented women!!
And, in the midst of all this warm happiness, Steph and I are GIVING AWAY not one but TWO Kindle Paperwhites!! Because we love each other so much and always want to share cool things, so we want you to be able to win one and give one to YOUR bestie.
Shared love rocks the hizzle and that's that. So PLEASE enter to win.you have two weeks from today, which means this would arrive in time to be a rad holiday gift for someone special. Plus you win a Kindle for being so generous.it all works out!! Have you been kind of wanting to meet me and get a big, crushing bear hug and have me sign your bra (hahaha!
Or your book or your ebook cover or you bag.whatever you'd like!)? Well, cool news.I'll be in BOSTON, MA on MARCH 16 along with many, many other amazing, wonderful, phenomenally cool writers. Please think about hanging with us, and please tell all your friends!
The more the merrier, no doubt!! I will be providing a link with more info and the full author list as soon as it's available! In parting, I'd like to announce that I've been quiet lately, but it's because I have been busy.
Steph whipped me to get A Toast to the Good Times out in time for the holidays, and then I was crazy focused on Benelli's book.I'm planning to reveal that cover very soon, and would love to leave you with a snippet of her story. I'll keep posting teasers, and you'll get a chance to hear from her guy as well! (Also, if you are a blogger (or just a reader) interested in sharing the cover on your blog, FB page, on twitter or any other forum, please shoot me an email at lizreinhardtwrites@gmail.com or PM me on my author page on FB and let me know.I'd be glad to send you the link and have your help with the share;)!) So, I love you all. Love you big. Hope you win things and love people and read stuff that makes you happy and maybe come and hug me in March!! And now, here's some Benelli angst! And then he’s right there.
My infuriating puzzle of a boyfriend. The one person who understands exactly what I want and could be my perfect match in life and love. If he would just take the next step with me. “Hello,” I whisper, breathing in the clean, cologne-laced smell of his skin mixed with the leather of his jacket and the faint aroma of the Marlboro he smoked before he came here.
His breath is laced with Jack, and his dark eyes half-close when he looks me over. “How the hell do you get more damn beautiful every time I see you?” he asks, his mouth closing over mine. I fall deep into that perfect, delicious kiss, letting all the worries I’ve carried like a yoke on my shoulders ease away. “Damian?” “Mmm?” His mouth drags from my lips and forges an urgent path down my neck and back up, meeting my lips again before I have a chance to say what I need to say. When he finally pulls back and I’m completely out of breath, he starts to undo the laces that hold the top of my shirt together.
“What were you saying, princess?” “It’s just” I put a hand on his wrist and still his fingers. “It’s my father.” His spine goes stiff, and he jerks away from me and sighs, running an irritated hand over his face. “This again?” He blows a long, aggravated breath out and holds his hands up at his sides. “Okay, shoot. I know you’re not going to let me rest until you get to say your piece. So say what you need to say.” “You and I talked about announcingabout letting them knowif he knows our intentions, he’ll give us his blessing, and we can go ahead and start planning for a wedding.
I mean, once we’re officially engaged and all.” All the words I want to say are perfect, ripe pieces of fruit dangling just out of my reach. I press on, desperate to get my point across no matter how clumsily I present it. “He needs help. And if you and I were married, he’d trust you to—” “I’m not really sure why exactly we gotta wait on your dad’s blessing to start living our life, Benelli,” he interrupts, his words ricocheting out a little too loud. He corner-eyes the door and drops his voice.
This is what I mean. All this sneaking around is ridiculous. Why is it that we always need permission to do anything? You’re a grown woman, not a little kid. I’m a grown man.
I’ve proven myself in the game, and that should be enough for your old man. I feel like once we go begging for his permission, he’s gonna have a leash around my neck that he’ll yank whenever he wants.” “It’s not like that,” I protest, rubbing my fingers over the sensitive spot on the back of his neck that always soothes him. “What my dad will offer us after we’re married will eventually become our own piece of the business. Sure, we’ll have to help him for the first few years to pay back for the startup, but that’s not him having a leash around your neck. It’s just a business arrangement.” He rolls his neck on his shoulders and presses his body closer to mine, possessively.
“So I’m not his slave, but I’m his indentured servant for life?” Damian’s hands reach up and grip my shoulders. “Benelli, run away with me. Elope with me.
I promise you, we’ll have to start small, but I’ll give you twice what your mother has in three years, if not sooner. You’ll live like a duchess, like you deserve. And I’ll be able to hold my head up around your father.” My heart thunders in my chest, bolts of lightening spark through my brain, and the cold, clear downfall of this potential reality soaks through the skin of my conscience. I break from his touch and put my hands on my cheeks, burning up with the exciting possibility of doing this, breaking out and flying in my own direction for once.
A decision this big is one I need to make with my family at my side. I take a few controlled breaths and focus.
“Damian, I could never do that to my parents. My mother has been looking forward to my wedding for my entire life. It would be a huge slap in the face to just not include her. And my father is a very powerful man.
He’s going to want someone as talented as you on his side, not competing with him. Don’t you see how if we do this together, with my family, it will be that much better?” But, instead of my calm words arranging everything in neat little piles like I wanted, it’s like they’re a tornado ripping through the plans for our life. Damien is not happy, I’m not happy, and I know my father and mother will be completely unhappy if I even consider eloping. They might even be furious knowing I’m dating Damien. Because that’s not what we agreed to. Because I was supposed to wait for them to begin arranging dates for me with eligible men, men who would understand all that I’m trying to explain to Damien without my having to deal with the issue of this frustrating angst.
But things got so crazy with my other siblings, and I was so lonely, and Damien seemedlike he would fit in. Like he was the right person.
So I took a chance and started to see him behind my parents’ backs, and the more I knew about him, the more I knew they’d appreciate what a good, level-headed choice I’d made. It’s just hard to get him to play by the rules. He always has a hard time seeing the bigger picture. “I’m not going to be a soldier for the Youngblood family, Benelli.” He takes his hands off my arms and backs up, edging out the door, his mouth hard and pulled to one side. “You need to know when it’s time to cut ties with your family and start your own life on your own terms.” One of his hands is fisted around the doorknob, waiting for me to call him back, tell him I want what he wants.
“Damien, please stay.” I walk over to him, and he lets my body curve close to his, watches my fingers brush lightly over his chest and down to his belt-buckle. I keep my voice low and throaty, trying to seduce him back to a better place.“We can talk about this more. If you listen to what I’m saying, I know you’ll see—” “There’s nothing else to say.” He cuts me off, his words sharp, his body twisting away from mine. “You need to make a choice.
Me or them.” He holds his arms up and out at his sides. I cross my arms tight over my body and pop one hip to the side as I watch him stalk backward out the door.
“You’re being ridiculous. You call me when you’re ready to talk like a reasonable man. I don’t do ultimatums, Damien. Do you hear me?” I watch his dark silhouette head back to his car, parked far enough up the street that the rumble of his engine won’t alert my parents to his presence, and I feel a mix of dread and despair that puts all my thoughts into a cyclone of jumbled confusion.
He’ll be back, I tell myself. He just technically proposed to me. He’ll definitely be back. I lie down on my bed and fold my hands over my stomach, watching the ghostly flicker of the candlelight on the walls until the first flame drowns in the melted wax and sputters to its smoky death. Shadows chase across my ceiling and more candles extinguish as I doze in and out of a choppy pseudo-sleep that’s interrupted by dreams that feel so real and ominous, I startle awake over and over. Every time I jolt awake from another mini-nightmare, I’m shocked that Damian isn’t in my room, flowers in hand, a small smile of apology on his face. Somewhere between midnight and early sunrise, I fall into a dark sleep that’s mercifully dreamless and wake way too early.
I welcome this new day with such an enormous leaden lump gathering weight in the pit of my stomach, no amount of concentrated Reclining Goddess pose can get rid of it. I edge a pile of papers aside with my toe and consider that he might just be late.
I put my back to a huge filing cabinet and push off with my feet to move it and rationalize that maybe last week was just a fluke. There is no reason to expect we'd be assigned together every single time. The cabinet slides against the wall and gives me a tiny square of space to work in, and I pick up a few manila folders and put them back down, shuffle some papers into a heap, and stare at the never-ending, impossibly overwhelming whirlpool threatening to suck me down. I put my hand to my mouth, praying I won't turn sissy, cry my eyes out, and make all my lovingly applied eye makeup roll down my face.
If you love cyber parties and book talk and random ramblings from me and Facebook.click here to attend the! The downside is that we can't have snacks or dancing. Well, we can. But in our own homes. Which is nice, since you won't have to worry about double-dipping or some lunatic doing the sprinkler and konking you in the head. But the upside is that you can go in your pajamas with unwashed hair (NOT that that's my plan.but, you know, sometimes writers get busy and lose their minds in a social sense!) and still mingle! So come as you are.and celebrate!!
When I was a junior in high school I took crafts. I come from an extremely artistic area. People don't mess around when they're making their crafts. It was a really normal thing to see a gorgeous girl with long, flowing hair sporting amazing metalwork jewelry.that she'd designed herself.
Or a guy would come in with these incredible leather boots that he'd learned to hand-stitch while apprenticing himself to a cobbler. So, I was running with the big dogs. And crafts were NOT my forte. My craft teacher would set his mouth in a firm line and shake his head over my ghoulish projects. They had no symmetry. They had no elegance. They were poorly done and often cracked in the kiln or got knotted in a lopsided macrame explosion.
This is actually a project by a 4th grader who was supposed to make an 'ugly jug.' This young person did a fine job. I did something similar when I was a junior, but, um, mine was NOT supposed to be an ugly jug. Even to this day.I still find this 'ugly' jug pleasant to the eye! Yes, you can totally call me crazy! Crafts wasn't the first class I was awful in.
I was a junior who also had math class with sophomores. I was used to big red x-marks on my papers. But I didn't care too much about math.
You were amazing, and I should have paid more attention. Now I have to count on my fingers when I add the tip to the total at a restaurant.) And the x-marks on a math paper just said that I hadn't done the problem correctly. I could see the mistakes I made. Nothing personal. My craft teacher's critiques were a little more difficult to take. I think he thought I could do better.
I think he thought I was messing around. I think he thought I was wasting his time and mine. He wasn't a fuzzy, sweet, encouraging teacher. He said things like: 'This piece is hardly worth grading.' 'You tried to combine colors to make a statement. Instead you made a mess.' 'You have no eye for the aesthetic.'
But, you know, he made some good points. So, that girl with the gorgeous necklaces and the boy with the boots would come over and re-adjust my clay pieces or walk me through thread patterns until I got it. When I said maybe I should quit crafts because I clearly wasn't cut out for it, they'd jangle their silver rings and toss their manes of always gorgeous, beaded hair and say, 'If you want to be an artist, you have to do it in the face of criticism. You have to do it because you love it.
And, if you love it enough, you just keep doing it.' Sitting with them, watching them do what they did with such passion and purpose, made me try harder.
I put all my efforts to making a fabulous art project. Yeah, this is what my high school art classes looked like. I was usually sitting in the corner with an extremely well made, gorgeous dunce cap on. My craft teacher won that round.
My skills were negligible and, even though I stuck with crafts because I loved the people, I moved on to poetry. I looooved poetry. But it still wasn't right. Finally, one day, when I was supposed to be writing a term paper, I wrote a book.
My craft teacher would have had a field day with that baby!! One-dimensional characters? Wooden dialogue? Complete lack of plot? But I met other writers. I read books. I grew my skill base.
And, finally, I was ready to publish. In the back of my head, I thought there would be criticism. But it couldn't be much, right? Because I loved doing this so much, and I was so proud of what I'd done. It had to be something everyone would love.right? The answer is a firm 'no.'
Some critics were nice. Some were harsh. Some picked apart the book. Some picked apart me.
Some made me tear up. All made me a tad obsessed. So how do you deal? How does it work when someone doesn't like what you do or say or just plain old silly you? Who could hate this little guy?
(Maybe someone.but not me!! Look at those eyes!!) Now, this is only my advice, but I think it's pretty good. Remember my craft teacher? You know what I said to him after I'd gone to college and came out with a shiny art history degree with honors? I went back to high school and rubbed shoulders with all those teachers who had been sweet and encouraging.
Man, that guy never gave up on me! I'm so sorry I still run screaming when I see the Pythagoras Theorem. I talked to the teachers who saw my weaknesses, pointed them out, then held a hand out and helped walk me through getting better. My craft teacher and I never got along, so why waste time hanging with him, when I could hardly see and thank all the people who cared about seeing me achieve? And remember the books I wrote? When my rank is amazing and my selling is great, you know what I say to the haters?
It's cool to have your opinion. Some people are really good at writing clear, respectful reviews even when they didn't like a book. Others aren't. In the end, there are so many well-wishers, critique partners, readers, other writers, supportive family members, whining pets, bouncing children demanding attention.I honestly have no time for anything but the good! And it's been so good!
So, so, so sweet and good! If I focused on the bad, I'd be giving a ton of attention to one small sliver of reality that comes with writing. I don't even have time to focus on all the good! Right now there are books on my dining room table waiting to be sent out to readers who took the time to enter a contest to win my book. There are emails from readers who loved the story I wrote. Enough to EMAIL ME!! There are other authors who have the most amazing conversations with me about craft and life and what we do and why we do it.
And they are my fangirl-squealish FAVORITE WRITERS OF ALL TIME!! Life is.life is amazing. Deranged 90s cartoon happy! Happy happy joy joy happy!! Don't even test me, because I will sing and dance and draw you into my weird, crazy happy!
So happily serious! Maybe I have a few complaints. Like, could a hard-working writer get her husband to help fold laundry once in a while? And how did I miss the ENTIRE Olympic games on TV? And could my kid stay little for just a while longer, because it's all going by too fast. Life is going to throw me some wicked curve-balls.
It's done it before. It will do it again. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. I feel like sending some big love to my craft teacher and the people who write angry reviews, because, c'mon guys!
My craft teacher only had me in class for one period a day for two years. That's not so much time spent looking at my ugly work (even if it was really, really, really ugly!).
And people who hate my books? I put my name on the cover of every single one, so you will never have to read a second if you didn't like the first. And there are so many great books out there! Do NOT waste time with authors who don't ring your bell, for whatever reason. I barely have time to read all the books I just KNOW I'm going to fall in love with!
There are so many others to choose from, and, I say this with total happiness: GO READ SOME AMAZING AUTHORS!! If you need some excellent recs, I have them all over my Facebook page. There are so many on my Kindle, I'd need a separate HOUSE to store them in if I owned them in paperback. In short, my optimism is just bordering on ridiculous.
How could it not be? Things are pretty damn awesome at Casa de Reinhardt.
And we hope, here amid the dog farts and unfolded laundry and crazy happiness, that things are just as good for you. (Even if you hate my anthromorphic clay pot or my teen angst book. Find your happy, baby!!) Hey, it's not my personal idea of fun.but these people look like they're having a blast!
So, more power to them! And, you know what, maybe whatever they're wearing on their heads IS fun to paddle around in.
I try to keep an open mind! Is this brilliant, undeniably adorable writer who shares my passion for sexy, angsty books. Some kind of wonderful luck led us down the co-writing path, and we wrote a book we're both super, amazingly, incredibly proud of. So we wrote this book, and polished it, and polished it more, and picked a date for release. Then we kinda had nothing left to do.
When she told me we should release Lengths a tiny bit ahead of our planned August 13th reveal day, I was a Nervous Nellie. Should we take more time? Think things through?
There she was, on the other end of the phone, laughing her beguiling laugh and making such sensible arguments. She has a will of steel and a head full of logic. So, with our excited powers combined, and I are proud to release (just a tad early!) our much loved book baby, the New Adult contemporary romance, Lengths! We hope you enjoy! Winch grips the roof of the car and grimaces.
“Okay, listen. You’re gonna hate this, but listen. My familywhere I come from, a fight is more than a fight, okay?
When the families fight, there’s a lot at stake, and Remy just picked a really, really powerful family to throw down with. Pissing them off isn’t a good idea, and it will mean a lot of bad for everybody if he loses. Basically he can’t lose.
So I gotta go. It will take half an hour, an hour tops, then I come back, get you, and you let me see that sexy-ass bathing suit that’s already making me crazy.” He holds his fists out in front of his body hopefully and gives me his best, charming, begging smile. Her eyes, light brown just like mine, narrow in my direction. “Don’t be a creep, Deo. First of all, the lavender I just pressed sold out before I finished bottling it, and I have double orders in for my next harvest. Secondly, my nookie is none of your damn business, but I will voluntarily tell you that I don’t use it for barter.” Her lecture completely loses its serious tone, and she pokes me with a foot decorated with a dozen silver rings. “Though it’s so damn good I could make a killing off of it if I wanted to.”.
“Did he ever wind up getting you one? You must have asked five or six years in a row.” She tucks her hair behind her ears, and it hits me again how much my grown mother can look like a little girl. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t do the whole makeup thing or because she wears all this jangly jewelry like some teenager, or just because she has this optimistic-but-vulnerable vibe down pat, but she looks so young, it’s easy for me to pack up whatever hard shit I’m trying to deal with and put it away where it won’t bother her.
Marigold Beckett gave me your number, told me I should call you for some good ink.” I glance at the box from my father in the rearview mirror and wonder what he felt was an appropriate gift for this un-monumental birthday. Last year, for my twenty-first, it was Balkan 176, vodka so strong it knocked me over and out before I could drink enough to get myself in real trouble. My grandpa and my best friend, Cohen, pried it from my drunk fingers and proceeded to help me down the entire bottle over the course of a weekend. We were stupid-drunk as sailors on leave, and it was good times. I'm a terrible person about some things!
I'm a wonderful person about others, though, I swear. For example, I am an awful cook. One day we will all hang out together and be in love, but please don't make me cook dinner for you. We can hang at my house, but we'll order in!
Or have my husband cook.now that guy knows his way around a kitchen;)! Also, I failed Algebra and Geometry. Please don't talk to me about the Pythagorean Theorem, because another thing I'm awful at is crying nicely. I will ugly cry and look at you with runny/red-rimmed eyes and snot running out of my nostrils if you ask me about right triangles. BUT I can calculate a tip perfectly. And, for all you wait-people out there, I always leave 20% because I was a waitress once and I loathed my time waiting tables. So, I am bad about certain bookish things.
Announcing, promoting, tweeting. And this isn't some silly false modesty. I mean, I love it when people hear about my books and buy them. How else can I take you all out to a fancy restaurant and leave a big tip?!
But I just get scattered. Or sucked into my current project. Right now I have two, and I'm super excited about both, and there is disgustingly little going on in my home on the toilet scrubbing/laundry/watering the plants front. Don't even ask about things like dusting, because I will laugh an evil laugh. Also, I'm dedicating my next book to Spongebob Squarepants, who's been taking wonderful care of my daughter. First of all, there is a cover to share.
A cover I happen to love very much. And it's the cover of the book I am working on with a passionate intensity! When I saw this, I just thought, 'Sigh. That is SO Evan and Winch!' I am in the thick of wrapping up Fall Guy. It's a New Adult/Mature YA, and it deals with Brenna's friend Evan, who is at a really messed up place when she meets a really messed up guy and they need each other to figure things out.
Winchester meets Evan the day they're both sentenced in court, and, despite this fact, he's incredibly responsible. So damn responsible, he forgets to put himself first and winds up falling into that trap of taking care of everyone else. But the only person he really wants to take care of is Evan.
And she finds herself finally straightening up and growing a colossal backbone because he needs someone to fight for Winch and stop allowing him to put himself last all the time, and that's what you do when you're in love. It's been amazing to write.
Full of conflict and emotions, sexiness and romance. I have loved every minute, and can't wait until it's finally out for everyone to enjoy!
And, as if my writer cup weren't full enough, I am CO-WRITING a book!! This is a pretty cool story, actually! I am a huge fan of , and we kind of hang in the same circles, being YA writers and all. One day she wrote me a note that was something like: 'I think Trinity and Quinn are long lost sisters.' Which cracked me up because that is EXACTLY what I said when I read Quinn's book! I said, 'You and I would make beautiful music together.
We should co-write a book!' And she said, 'Are you kidding? I hope you're not because that would be amazing!' So she sent me all these cool inspiration pictures and we got this really, super vague idea for a beginning.and I wrote her a chapter and sent it along with a little, 'What do you think?' And she sent a chapter back!
And I sent another! And suddenly our lives were taken over by our characters and we were emailing at all hours and talking on Facebook and so freaking excited! I've never really had an experience like this. It's extremely rewarding and fun to open your email and have this amazing, heart-wrenching, passionate chapter that you get to work and build from. It's been one of the best experiences of my writing life, and this book.it's angsty and romantic and just so damn sexy! I cannot WAIT TO SHARE IT!! Which brings me back to things I should be better about.
See how fun this blog was?! Well, I was supposed to be working on our blurb rightthissecond. Because when our cover is finished and our blurb is done, we can SHARE THIS AMAZING BOOK!! Until then, I'm just being a huge tease! Okay, okay, okay.I'll get back to work! And I promise I'll have something awesome to share soon!