This book blitz is organized by YA Bound.
By Trisha Wolfe
(Living Heartwood #2)
Publication Date: October 15th, 2014
Told from Dual point of view from Melody and Boone, this is a New Adult Contemporary
Romance intended for readers seventeen years of age and older.
Blurb:
Sometimes you have to lose your way before finding the right track.
The roar of a bike engine. The vibration between her thighs. The feel of cool darkness kissing her skin as she coasts along twisty back roads at night—Melody Lachlan lives for these things. Ever since Mel and her best friend Darla escaped their small, backwoods town, they’ve traveled the
countryside in search of fast rides, tatted bikers, and good times.
A self-proclaimed poet and lover of all things free, Mel views her life as one long bike ride—with pit stops along the way to numb the pain. But she never saw herself as a junkie. Party as hard as you ride. That’s her motto...until a tragic night steals her soul. Then she’s forced to delve below
the surface, to where her demons rage.
When she meets recovered drug addict Boone Randall, she’s more likely to deck him than kiss his dimple-adorable face. She doesn’t want his help; doesn’t want to own up to her part in that night. She just wants to do her time and keep her promise to her friend. Yet Boone challenges
Mel, and soon she doesn’t mind sharing the road. Only when Boone’s own secret demons threaten their newfound, fragile security, Mel’s course becomes rocky, and she must decide if letting her well-worn track marks fade is worth finding a new path.
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EXCERPT
Losing Track
Trisha Wolfe
Trisha Wolfe
Boone
Then, “You’ll never face a harder challenge.” Her words sink into me, to the marrow. She releases me from her penetrating gaze, and says over her shoulder as she begins to swim away, “Let’s leave it at that.”
And she’s right. Again. I don’t need this shit. I was wrong that first night when I approached her, when I let her gravity pull me in. I’m sure there’s a plethora of guys in orbit out there now, who she keeps all at bay. Waiting for the second she crooks her finger at them.
I have to admit, when I first saw her, I was tempted by that pouty mouth. The big dark eyes, gorgeous against her creamy skin. Layers of burgundy and black hair swept up into a messy pony tail, brushing her soft shoulders. Petite, tight body with curves in all the right places…begging to be explored. She looked so mouthwateringly untouchable. Tough as nails yet soft and tender.
But it was more than that. She sung, over the crowd, over the chaos, her pain. She wears it like a shield of impenetrable armor. Literally has it tattooed on her body. It called out, whether it wanted to be heard or not, recognized or not, and my pain answered in reply. Physical attraction; anyone can feel it. Anyone can act on it. But that soul deep cry—that raw harmony that plays on a frequency too low to hear—that’s what caught my attention. Ensnared me.
Only I was too oblivious at first to acknowledge it for what it was.
There wouldn’t be any escape with this girl. Not the kind I’m craving.
“Get your ass out, guy,” she shouts from the bank. “Hustle up. I have to get back before I’m assumed AWOL.”
Then there’s that: messing around with a user. It’d be safer for me to stick my hand right into a fire. Because this proverbial one is going to hurt a lot more.
That thought helps the rock hard boner tenting my boxers to wilt, and I can move out of the water. But dammit, as soon as I’m solid in my choice, mentally berating myself for almost getting mixed up with another user…she bends over to grab her pants.
She’s wearing these cream and pink, half ass cheek covering things. Not thongs—I know what to call those. But they’re sexy as hell. Lace trims enough of her round ass to hide most of it, but reveals all the sexiness. And I can’t help myself; I stare. Stare hard.
I can just glimpse the shape of her lips through the material. Imagine her clit…wet from the water…slippery and warm.
My cock starts to throb painfully. Fuck. I’m headed right back to the water when she outs me. “Damn, baby. Is that for me?” She winks, a playful smile pulling at her mouth, and my face heats.
I am a fucking glutton for punishment. Any other girl would have been a safer choice.
I run a hand through my hair, purposely avoiding looking down at my dick. “I’m a man, not a saint.”
A sly half-smile sneaks onto her face. “Well, it’s about time.”
About the Author: I’m the author of the YA Steampunk DESTINY'S FIRE (Omnific Publishing), ASTARTE'S WRATH NA Historical/Supernatural, and the upcoming YA Utopian FIREBLOOD from Spencer Hill Press, October 2013. My NA Dark Fantasy OF SILVER AND BEASTS available May 2013.
I’m the creator of YA Bound, a promotional site for the Young Adult genre. Also a member of SCWW and The Apocalypsies.
A proud business owner, I'm partnered with my partner, my husband. When I’m not busy doing all of the above, I’m a wife and the mother of a gorgeous teen boy who's the sounding board for my male characters.
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