Okay, so I’ve been slacking this week and I apologize. I have been battling an illness and quite frankly it has been winning. But I’m finally feeling better and ready to join the land of the living, so I’m posting my Tuesday Teaser a couple of days late.
Today I do not have a guest author, so the teasers will be from me. I will give you a teaser from FALLING TO PIECES, my New Adult Contemporary Romance set to release in March 2013 and SHATTER: Book 2 in the Delaney’s Gift Series, set to release either end of February or beginning of March 2013. Enjoy!!
Unedited scene From FALLING TO PIECES: Asher’s POV
When she gets off the bike after our ride, I can see in her eyes that she’s blocking me out again. The minute she turns her back on me, panic blooms in my chest. I can’t just let her go. I’m afraid if I do she’ll never agree to go out with me again. After tonight, I’m not sure I can stand going the entire summer without seeing her. It’s been hard enough the last year, but at least I was in a new environment. I was in a place where memories of Ivy don’t linger at every corner. Here it will be more difficult.
So I reach out and grab her arm. “Hey, don’t walk off just yet.”
She stiffens at my touch, but she turns around slowly. My heart sinks when I catch sight of the guarded look on her face.
“Aren’t you at least going to hug me goodbye?” I flash her my best teasing smile, hoping to break her down. “I mean, I think I deserve at least that. I took you out on my bike and everything.”
“Of course.” She steps forward and I gladly sweep her up into an embrace. Her frail body trembles against mine, so I tighten my hold. A tiny sigh escapes from her lips as she nestles into my chest. Warm breath feathers over my shirt and my heart flips in my chest.
Unedited scene from SHATTER: Delaney’s POV
I bite my lip and stay still. Tears gather in my eyes. Glancing over, I see Zoe raise her brows in a question. Her eyes are trained on Sam and her face holds a pensive look.
“Delaney,” Sam repeats. Hearing him say my name cuts through my heart. All I want to do is rush to him and take his broken body in my arms. “I’m sorry.” His voice is ragged and choppy, full of emotion I don’t want to hear.
I glance down at my arm, at the torn heart staining my skin. He did this to me. I can’t trust him. Still, my body responds to him as if moving forward of its own volition. Before I can register what I’m doing, I scoot forward and pull Sam’s head in my lap. I stroke his matted hair, and dark red blood coats my palms.
His fingers grab my shirt and he grips the fabric in between his fingers. His touch brings back memories I don’t want to think about. His eyes search mine. I force my expression to remain neutral, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he’s hurt me.