This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Chrissy Brown will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner, also an ebook of the second installment of the series Come a Little Closer (tentatively to be released 2/9), to another randomly drawn winner, both via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
She is beautiful, probably the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, but she's damaged.
Her a-hole exboyfriend broke her.
I still want her.
I can show her that all men aren't the same
That I'm different.
He's everything I need to stay away from, and I try.
I really do, but he's relentless.
So, I give in and let him have me.
All of me.
I should have known better.
Purchase your copy here: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07MHPGL3V/ref=series_rw_dp_sw
Read an Excerpt:
I throw the valet at the Sheraton Hotel my keys and hurry up the steps. A sign in the lobby welcomes guests for the Cross and Doyle wedding.
What kind of last name is that? Tristan Doyle. It’s a stupid name. No hesitations. Placing both hands on the white wooden door, they fly open with a thud that echoes throughout the room.
“Don’t do it!”
At least a hundred eyes turn to me, bride and groom included. It’s then I notice the bride. She’s breathtaking in her big white dress, but she’s not Mallory. Mallory stands beside the bride in a long coral gown. Her jaw is dropped. Face pale. Eyes wide. My stomach sinks to my feet. She’s horrified to see me.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
“Shoot, everyone,” I say, hands up in surrender. “Sorry. I thought Mallory was the one getting married.”
“What the fuck are you doing here, Beau?” Mallory yells from the front of the room.
“Beau?” The groom says. It’s more of a statement than a question. Mallory’s head nods once. I’m not sure if even she knows she did it.
I start up the aisle. It’s a f’ing long aisle. Or at least it feels that way. The groom meets me a few feet from the first row. He has the same dark hair and blue eyes as Mallory. This must be her brother.
He draws back. I know what’s coming. There’s no point in stopping it. I deserve this. I crushed his sister’s heart. I barged into his wedding. My face jolts to the left when his fist connects with my cheek. A sticky liquid leaks from my nose. I wipe it with the back of my hand. Blood. Great.
About the Author:
She enjoys the simple things in life, like cuddling on the couch watching movies with her family, reading, Netflix, and beach trips. She reads two to three books a week, but favors stories with strong women, true love, and steamy scenes.
When Chrissy is not sitting at her computer, fantasizing about gorgeous country boys, she is teaching third graders how amazing books are...and writing, and math. She has also been an amateur wedding photographer and a CNA (to which she gives kudos but says never again.)
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