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Starry? Book Blitz

My eyes wander to the one-way window by the prep area, and I let out a gasp, “Oh no!”
Sophie looks at me. “What is it?”
Feeling as if I might be sick, I utter, “He’s here.”
She scoots beside me and looks out the same window that’s our favorite place to people watch. “I can’t believe that man had the nerve to show up here. You told him not to come—didn’t you?”
“Not exactly.” I sigh. “I—I thought he’d change his mind when I ignored his calls and texts.”
“Well, I guess he can’t take a hint. So what are you gonna do?”
“I don’t know.”
“You know if he doesn’t see you soon, he’ll ask someone to come get you. You might as well go ahead and get it over with.”
“But what if Ryan shows up?”
She forces air out of her nose, shooting me a disappointed look. “You didn’t tell him Greg wanted to come see you, did you? Did you think if he showed up, Ryan wouldn’t find out? You’re playing with fire, Bridge.”
Crossing my arms, I pace around the kitchen. “It was hard enough talking on the phone, but in person? I don’t know if I can do it.”
Sophie stops me in the middle of the kitchen. “You don’t have a choice now that he’s here. If you’d called him and told him not to show up, maybe he wouldn’t be here and you wouldn’t be in this predicament.”
“I really don’t need this right now.” Blinking my glassy eyes, I look away.
She reaches for my arms, rubbing them gently. “Oh honey, maybe it’s long overdue. Hopefully he’s here to tell you how bad he feels about the way he ended things and wants to clear the air. Who knows? The man could’ve found his conscience.”
“No, you don’t know this man like I do. He’s not that type.”
“People change, and you’re not going to know unless you go hear him out. Maybe it’ll help give you closure.”
“Hey Bridgette, there’s some guy out front that wants to talk to you,” says Kylee, standing by the kitchen doors. “His name is Greg.”

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Let’s Get Together: Book Blitz

The past finally caught up to me. I remember the month after Tyler and I met. We were inseparable. He offered an escape from my father’s lies and my mother’s grief. He listened, was sensitive to my feelings, and made me laugh. And when he ran his hand through his dark brown hair, messing it up just so. When he stared at me with those eyes that showed me the attention I craved, I fell a little harder each day.
My thoughts travel back to high school, and I consider how much to reveal to Gina. There was a party that night. It was the day before his birthday. After begging for days, my mom agreed to a 12:30 curfew so I could wish him a happy eighteenth birthday at midnight. We walked in together, and everyone who greeted me complimented my hair and clothes. I stood taller. They no longer called me ‘Jesus freak’ behind my back.
While I talked to two girls in my Spanish class, Tyler started the birthday celebration and quickly consumed too many pours from the keg. Then he turned into all the other guys—the ones who made me avoid these scenes all through school. He flirted with every pretty girl who passed by, then glanced my way as if he wanted to witness my hurt. Yesterday, he found every reason to graze my skin. Today, if our hands brushed, he recoiled as if I scorched him.
The friends I made over the past month kept their distance now, taking their lead from Tyler, the cool kid in class. Standing alone at the party, I felt like Cinderella—pre-Prince Charming and glass slipper. The best month of my life was over with no Fairy Godmother in sight. I watched him laugh at one of our classmate’s jokes and eye her tight V-neck top. If I walked out of the house in that thing, my mom would ground me for life. So would dad, but I no longer cared what he thought. He taught me one thing, though—how to mask my feelings. I perfected it so well, it may as well be an Olympic sport.
I sauntered out of the party like I had somewhere better to be, and somehow, I held back the dam—until I reached my house and spotted the wrapped present I’d left for Tyler on the swing. He was supposed to walk me home, open the framed photo of us, then kiss me goodnight, signaling the start of something beyond friendship.
I stood outside the door, hoping my mother was sleeping so I didn’t have to explain why I came home so early after begging all week for a late curfew. The sound of raised voices stopped me before I turned the knob.
My mom’s pained voice shocked me. “You said you would stop!”
“I couldn’t,” was all my dad uttered. It was almost a whisper through the door.
“You didn’t want to!”
“I did, but I’m not strong enough. You have to forgive me.”
“Forgive you? And that’s an excuse. You’re the strongest person I know.” The rest of the words remained muffled by her sobs.
“Sandy.” One word, but I hear the pleading in his voice.
Her voice raises several octaves this time. “Get out!”
I ran away, back toward the party, not wanting to see him leave or witness my mother’s cries if he stayed. Either way, I needed to forget.

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Touching What? Book Blitz

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
PRESENT DAY

Time is a puzzle full of fragments of moments spilled on the canvas of memory. While reflection on some moments may present that canvas as a masterpiece, other times the puzzle comes into focus for what it really is – a hazy image full of lost pieces. Too many memories are lost by time. Precious memories or mundane ones – time has no prejudice. It is an unyielding eraser all the same. And that is the simple beauty of a photograph.

A photograph is a miracle. A rollercoaster of emotion. A constant reminder of the path traveled to the present. And a window into a time which may have long passed, but which comes flooding back to the forefront once unearthed. The sounds, sights, tastes, and aromas of a single moment years ago can all instantly come alive again just because of a photograph. But even beyond this, a photograph can make a memory long forgotten feel as tangible as the photograph being held.

Katie held such a photograph in her hand as she rummaged through her grandfather’s attic. It was a time-worn photograph which any other person would have flipped through without noticing. But Katie noticed it. What the photo depicted surprised her, in more ways than one. She’d seen countless photos of her grandfather before, but they’d all been from after her mother was born. This one was different. Strikingly different. It was the oldest photo she’d ever seen of him. But even more, it showed her grandmother – revealing an unknown chapter to Katie of her grandparents’ mysterious past. The moment she saw the photograph, she knew it would lead her on a journey to not only discover her grandfather’s mysterious past, but the key to her own future as well.

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Games in Holly? Wood? Book Blitz

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Published: April 4th 2022
Brace yourself Scotland, Hollywood’s coming… Rory’s found the love of his life but can he be sure Zoe feels the same? What can he offer her when his job’s on the line, and his mother’s out to destroy her? When Hollywood superstar, Brad Bauer, shows up wanting to film Braveheart 2 at Kinloch castle, it seems like the answer to all his prayers. However, there’s a catch. Zoe’s had a crush on Brad since she…

Brace yourself Scotland, Hollywood’s coming…⁣

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Hollywood Games by @eviealexanderauthor is a steamy, love conquers all, laugh-out-loud romantic comedy, with no cheating, no cliff-hanger, and a guaranteed happy ever after (HEA). It can be read as a standalone but is most enjoyed after reading Highland Games.⁣

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When Hollywood meets the Highlands, things will never be the same again…⁣

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Evie Head Shot - Games in Holly? Wood? Book Blitz

AUTHOR BIO:

Evie Alexander is the author of sexy romantic comedies with a very British sense of humour. She takes a method approach to her work, believing her capacity to repeatedly fail at life and love is what has given her such a rich supply of material for her writing.

Her interests include reading, eating, saving the world, and fantasising about people who only exist between the pages of her books. She lives in the West country with her family.

Author links:

Website: https://eviealexanderauthor.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/eviealexanderauthor

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/eviealexanderauthor/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Evie_author

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/21611777.Evie_Alexander

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/evie-alexander

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/eviealexanderauthor/

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Princess Pain: Book Blitz

As Lu gets up to welcome another guest—one I didn’t know was coming—I pull the window sheer to the side and watch as none other than Grady Basset strolls up the front path. He’s carrying a bouquet of yellow tulips. What in the world is he doing here?
I’m torn between running out the back door and confronting the man who’s been a thorn in my side since, well, forever. Leaving would be the nicest thing I could do for everyone, but suddenly I’m not feeling very generous.
I stride toward the entryway like a general marching onto a battlefield. My shoulders are squared, and my jaw is sticking out so far it leaves the living room well ahead of the rest of me. Lu yanks the front door open. “Grady! We’re so glad you could make it.”
He’s about to hand her the flowers when he sees me. “What are you doing here?” His tone suggests that he’s as happy to see me as I am to see him.
“Why am I here?” I put my hands on my hips in fury. “What are you doing here?”
“I was invited.” He dismisses me and turns to Lu, offering her the bouquet.
“I was invited, too.” Then I tell my soon-to-be sister-in-law, “You didn’t mention that Grady would be here. Why is that?”
Before she can answer, Alistair comes out of the back room. He immediately takes in the scene but doesn’t seem eager to explain himself. I should have known this was his doing. “Grady, Bree, we’re so glad you could join us.”
“Yes, well, I’m thinking about leaving,” I blurt out.
“Please, let me do the honors.”
Grady turns and is nearly out the door when my brother says, “Children, is there any chance you two can act like adults long enough to enjoy lunch? There is a perfectly sound reason we asked you both here. It has to do with this petty feud you have going on.”
“Petty feud?” I sputter. “The man picked me up and threw me off a boat. Off a boat! That’s not petty, that’s … that’s …” Words escape me. Barbaric? Contemptuous? Illegal? Apparently, words don’t escape me, after all.
“It’s the only sensible thing to do when you’re being harassed by an annoying child who refuses to grow up.” He has no right to be mad at me. I’m the injured party here.
I square off and face him, my hands firmly on my hips. “I’m sorry, Grady.” I’m not and nothing in my tone suggests I am. “Are you, or are you not, the ship’s captain?” Before he can answer, I tell him, “You shouldn’t be entertaining women on my family’s boat while you’re on duty.”
“I had your brother’s permission. I did not need yours.” His face turns an unnatural shade of red.
Instead of commenting, I abruptly turn toward my brother. “Let’s get this over with. I have a million things I’d rather be doing than wasting my time here.” Like tending to a den of vipers. I was not raised to be so rude, but Grady Basset brings it out in me.
Lu leads the way into the dining room. I follow begrudgingly, wishing custom and courtesy didn’t dictate that I walk in front of Grady. I can’t stick my tongue out at him when I’m in front of him.
Once we’re all seated and the champagne is poured, Lu raises her glass. “Alistair and I were hoping the two of you would…”

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