It’s RELEASE DAY! I can’t believe FOREVER WITH YOU is finally out. I’m relieved, excited and beyond nervous.
To celebrate its release, I’m giving away an autographed print copy and escalating eGift Card that starts at $25 and whose value will be determined at the end of the month depending on how many Amazon reviews Forever With You manages to accumulate.
Crossing fingers that I’ll be back soon for another more fabulous giveaway. I’ll definitely be back with a sneak peek at PLAYED, the second book in the Trapped series. 🙂
**International entrants welcome
Series: Unforgettable You
Publisher: The Season Publishing
Heat Level: Hot/Scorching
He nods slowly as if contemplating my answer. “So you never thought of us getting back together?”
Crap. Now I can’t breathe. How on earth am I supposed to answer that? How far does he want me to go back? I can’t tell him how I’d celebrated my eighteenth birthday. I’d gone out dancing with my friends but had gone home early and cried myself to sleep railing at the gods that I’d met him one year and two months too early.
If only if only if only, had been the mantra on that day and in the months that followed.
“Do you mean before or after I saw you at the mall with your girlfriend?” I ask lightly.
His eyes darken and if possible, his gaze grows more intense. “Either.”
I wonder if he’s asking to have the satisfaction of getting me to admit that I’m still hung up on him so he can turn me down? Is this payback cloaked in smoldering stares meant to inspire damp panties and lust-induced palpitations? That would be fiendishly cruel of him.
“Well, since the only time you answered my call was to tell me to get lost, I can safely say, I never thought we’d ever get back together.”
He shakes his head. You didn’t answer the question, his expression scolds. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
My nipples perk up at the quiet rumble of his voice. I cross my arms over my chest to hide my body’s reaction.
“I used to, you know, before I saw you again. I mean I didn’t stop lo—having feelings for you just because you hated me. It took time, and during that time, yes, I used to think about you. About us.”
“How long? How long did it take you to get over me?”
Dear God, this must be his new form of torture.
“Why does any of that matter now? Would it make you happy to know what a mess I was for an entire year after you left? That my grades dropped and I stopped modeling? That my parents sent me to a shrink? That I’ve been eaten up with guilt for the last four years?”
He takes a step, bringing us that much closer.
“Okay, I’ll ask it a different way. Are you over me now?”