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New Adult Contemporary Romance
Release June 2, 2014
About This Book
Fall to You is
the second book in the Here and Now series. It is not a stand-alone and is
intended to be read following Lost in Me.
Hanna’s story concludes in book three, All
for This.
Torn between two men…
When I woke up after the accident,
I couldn’t remember anything from the last year—including my relationship with
Max Hallowell or anything about Nate Crane. Now my memories are returning, but
instead of answering my questions, they’re leaving me with more.
The man who broke my heart and wants to be my future…
Max is all I ever wanted, and
now he wants to marry me. He’ll do everything he can to fill my life with love,
family, and security. I need those things now more than ever. But can I trust
him?
The man who stole my heart and wants to let me go…
Nate never made me promises,
and I never asked him to. I’d been on the rebound, looking for a distraction,
and he made me feel beautiful and wanted when I needed to feel those things
most. He says he has to let me go, but what if I can’t let go of him?
With every revelation and
every passing day, I feel more like Alice down the rabbit hole. I’m falling.
Who will catch me?
About the Author
Once a college
English professor, I now write full time. I live in rural Indiana, where, when
I'm not writing, I get to hang out with my husband and two kids--a six-year-old
boy and a two-year-old hellion, er, girl. Not surprisingly, reading and writing
remain my favorite activities, though both come in bits and pieces these days,
not the big hunks of time I enjoyed before I had children. When I'm feeling
virtuous, I like to go running (I use that word liberally. I'm really, really
slow) or do yoga. Don't worry, I'm always careful to balance out such
activities with a hearty serving of ice cream or a
chocolate martini.
Website | Facebook | Twitter
Excerpt 1:
Three Months before Hanna’s Accident
“I want to introduce you to Nate Crane.”
I lift my head and suddenly I’m sucking in air because my eyes are connected with the man who flirted with me earlier. He’d had a hat and sunglasses on in the bar, and I hadn’t recognized him, but this time his identity is clear.
“Hanna, this is Nate Crane. Nate, this is Hanna, my sister.”
His eyes sweep over me the way a guy’s eyes are supposed to sweep over a girl. The way Asher’s eyes sweep over Maggie every time she enters a room. The way William’s eyes sweep over Cally when he doesn’t think she’s looking. It sends a little buzz through me that’s not quite a chill but not quite electric either. Just a nice, warm shimmy of sensation that starts at my core and radiates out through my limbs.
Then I check behind me because I’m sure I’m mistaken. He was just playing around at the bar, right? I mean, guys don’t look at me like that. They look at my sisters like that; they look at my best friends like that.
“Maggie never told me her sister was so gorgeous,” Nate says, putting an end to any debate over his attraction to me.
My cheeks warm with a flush I can feel all the way from my chest to my hairline.
“Maggie, I did tell you I have a thing for sweet girls who blush, didn’t I? Is she my birthday present? I’d say you shouldn’t have, but I’d be lying.” He says all this without taking his eyes off me. His gaze drifts over me again, slower this time, lingering at my waist, my hips, my feet in strappy, heeled sandals. “I was a good boy this year. I deserve her.”
Maggie thumps him in the chest with the back of her hand. “She’s a woman, not some trinket or object that can be given.”
“Oh,” he says, his voice so low I can barely make it out, “I noticed she’s a woman.”
“We met earlier,” I say quickly. “In the bar. He’s just teasing.”
Maggie huffs. “Deserve or not, you can’t have her. Hanna has a boyfriend.”
Oh, no. No, Hanna doesn’t. But I didn’t tell Maggie about Max. It hurt too much to share what I’d learned. I’m too proud to share it. And if I want to keep our split a secret, I couldn’t really tell her if I wanted to. I can’t risk telling anyone.
Nate takes my hand, clearly undeterred by the mention of competition. “Tell me she’s lying. Please? It’s my birthday tomorrow.”
“And you wanted me to jump out of a cake for you?” I retort, but I let him play with my fingers and try to keep my breathing steady. His touch brings back something I didn’t think anyone but Max could make me feel.
“I wouldn’t complain.”
I’m fresh out of spunk, and stare stupidly. Nate Crane is six feet some-odd inches of deliciously tatted, freshly showered rocker. In ripped-up jeans and a Star Wars tee, he exudes a geekiness that’s only amplified by the tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves. The rest of him is essentially a catalogue of every woman’s fantasy. Broad shoulders, narrow hips, shaggy, dark hair still wet from his shower and curling slightly at the ends. Those intense eyes that seem to be smiling at me as he follows the lines of my palm with his calloused fingertips. He hadn’t really been on my radar until this year, when he started performing with Asher at a lot of his tour stops. They’re old friends, apparently.
“You didn’t tell me you were a rock star,” I murmur.
“You didn’t tell me you have a boyfriend,” he counters.
Three Months before Hanna’s Accident
“I want to introduce you to Nate Crane.”
I lift my head and suddenly I’m sucking in air because my eyes are connected with the man who flirted with me earlier. He’d had a hat and sunglasses on in the bar, and I hadn’t recognized him, but this time his identity is clear.
“Hanna, this is Nate Crane. Nate, this is Hanna, my sister.”
His eyes sweep over me the way a guy’s eyes are supposed to sweep over a girl. The way Asher’s eyes sweep over Maggie every time she enters a room. The way William’s eyes sweep over Cally when he doesn’t think she’s looking. It sends a little buzz through me that’s not quite a chill but not quite electric either. Just a nice, warm shimmy of sensation that starts at my core and radiates out through my limbs.
Then I check behind me because I’m sure I’m mistaken. He was just playing around at the bar, right? I mean, guys don’t look at me like that. They look at my sisters like that; they look at my best friends like that.
“Maggie never told me her sister was so gorgeous,” Nate says, putting an end to any debate over his attraction to me.
My cheeks warm with a flush I can feel all the way from my chest to my hairline.
“Maggie, I did tell you I have a thing for sweet girls who blush, didn’t I? Is she my birthday present? I’d say you shouldn’t have, but I’d be lying.” He says all this without taking his eyes off me. His gaze drifts over me again, slower this time, lingering at my waist, my hips, my feet in strappy, heeled sandals. “I was a good boy this year. I deserve her.”
Maggie thumps him in the chest with the back of her hand. “She’s a woman, not some trinket or object that can be given.”
“Oh,” he says, his voice so low I can barely make it out, “I noticed she’s a woman.”
“We met earlier,” I say quickly. “In the bar. He’s just teasing.”
Maggie huffs. “Deserve or not, you can’t have her. Hanna has a boyfriend.”
Oh, no. No, Hanna doesn’t. But I didn’t tell Maggie about Max. It hurt too much to share what I’d learned. I’m too proud to share it. And if I want to keep our split a secret, I couldn’t really tell her if I wanted to. I can’t risk telling anyone.
Nate takes my hand, clearly undeterred by the mention of competition. “Tell me she’s lying. Please? It’s my birthday tomorrow.”
“And you wanted me to jump out of a cake for you?” I retort, but I let him play with my fingers and try to keep my breathing steady. His touch brings back something I didn’t think anyone but Max could make me feel.
“I wouldn’t complain.”
I’m fresh out of spunk, and stare stupidly. Nate Crane is six feet some-odd inches of deliciously tatted, freshly showered rocker. In ripped-up jeans and a Star Wars tee, he exudes a geekiness that’s only amplified by the tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves. The rest of him is essentially a catalogue of every woman’s fantasy. Broad shoulders, narrow hips, shaggy, dark hair still wet from his shower and curling slightly at the ends. Those intense eyes that seem to be smiling at me as he follows the lines of my palm with his calloused fingertips. He hadn’t really been on my radar until this year, when he started performing with Asher at a lot of his tour stops. They’re old friends, apparently.
“You didn’t tell me you were a rock star,” I murmur.
“You didn’t tell me you have a boyfriend,” he counters.
What If You Had to Choose?: Why I Heart Love Triangles
I am so incredibly lucky. I get to spend my days writing down the stories in my head—pretty much my favorite thing to do—and then people read them and write me to let me know what they thought. After Lost in Me, Book 1 of the Here and Now Series, released, the comment I heard the most was some variation of, “I usually hate love triangles, but…” To say I made you enjoy a trope that you usually dislike, is a huge compliment, so thank you!
But personally? I freaking FLOVE love triangles! I’m addicted. My favorite movies and books all seem to be love triangles. Sometimes the “better guy” is obvious and sometimes he’s not. Sometimes there’s a love triangle and the third party isn’t even around—maybe he’s dead or overseas—but that doesn’t change the heart of what makes a love triangle story work.
Here are a few of my favorite love triangle movies:
While You Were Sleeping? How can you resist the whole forbidden chemistry with the (supposed) fiancé’s brother? The conflict is built in and everyone loves Jack and wants her to end up with him, but he’s such a freaking good guy, he’s not going to do anything to get in the way of what he thinks she wants.
She asks, “Can you give me any reason why I shouldn't marry your brother?”
And my heart just tears into two when he says, “Oh... I can't.”
Love Actually? If there’s a scene that inspires belly butterflies more than the scene where he comes to the door with those signs, I haven’t seen it! The selflessness of the guy who lets go so the girl can move on is super hot. If you haven’t seen it, here’s what the signs say:
With any luck, by next year - I'll be going out with one of these girls. [shows pictures of hot models] But for now, let me say - Without hope or agenda - Just because it's Christmas - And at Christmas you tell the truth - To me, you are perfect - And my wasted heart will love you - Until you look like this. [shows picture of a mummy] Merry Christmas.
And come on…Twilight? That whole series was 400-times more addictive because of the whole Bella-Edward-Jacob thing. (And, confession, I was totally Team Jacob, but that’s a post for another day.)
Two amazing guys in love with the heroine? Yes, please.
All of the naughty forbidden chemistry? Yes, please.
The angsty gut tugging of not knowing how she’s going to choose? Yeah. I’m all over that.
So…love triangles. Love ’em or hate ’em?
I am so incredibly lucky. I get to spend my days writing down the stories in my head—pretty much my favorite thing to do—and then people read them and write me to let me know what they thought. After Lost in Me, Book 1 of the Here and Now Series, released, the comment I heard the most was some variation of, “I usually hate love triangles, but…” To say I made you enjoy a trope that you usually dislike, is a huge compliment, so thank you!
But personally? I freaking FLOVE love triangles! I’m addicted. My favorite movies and books all seem to be love triangles. Sometimes the “better guy” is obvious and sometimes he’s not. Sometimes there’s a love triangle and the third party isn’t even around—maybe he’s dead or overseas—but that doesn’t change the heart of what makes a love triangle story work.
Here are a few of my favorite love triangle movies:
While You Were Sleeping? How can you resist the whole forbidden chemistry with the (supposed) fiancé’s brother? The conflict is built in and everyone loves Jack and wants her to end up with him, but he’s such a freaking good guy, he’s not going to do anything to get in the way of what he thinks she wants.
She asks, “Can you give me any reason why I shouldn't marry your brother?”
And my heart just tears into two when he says, “Oh... I can't.”
Love Actually? If there’s a scene that inspires belly butterflies more than the scene where he comes to the door with those signs, I haven’t seen it! The selflessness of the guy who lets go so the girl can move on is super hot. If you haven’t seen it, here’s what the signs say:
With any luck, by next year - I'll be going out with one of these girls. [shows pictures of hot models] But for now, let me say - Without hope or agenda - Just because it's Christmas - And at Christmas you tell the truth - To me, you are perfect - And my wasted heart will love you - Until you look like this. [shows picture of a mummy] Merry Christmas.
And come on…Twilight? That whole series was 400-times more addictive because of the whole Bella-Edward-Jacob thing. (And, confession, I was totally Team Jacob, but that’s a post for another day.)
Two amazing guys in love with the heroine? Yes, please.
All of the naughty forbidden chemistry? Yes, please.
The angsty gut tugging of not knowing how she’s going to choose? Yeah. I’m all over that.
So…love triangles. Love ’em or hate ’em?
Fall to You Playlist
New Politics—Tonight You’re Perfect
Snow Patrol—Chasing Cars
Sarah McLachlan—Angel
Christina Perri—Human
Brooke Fraser—You Can Close Your Eyes
Ed Sheeran—Kiss Me
Coldplay—Magic
Ed Sheeran—Lego House
John Legend—All of Me
Alicia Keys, Adam Levine—Wild Horses
New Politics—Tonight You’re Perfect
Snow Patrol—Chasing Cars
Sarah McLachlan—Angel
Christina Perri—Human
Brooke Fraser—You Can Close Your Eyes
Ed Sheeran—Kiss Me
Coldplay—Magic
Ed Sheeran—Lego House
John Legend—All of Me
Alicia Keys, Adam Levine—Wild Horses
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