Cover Reveal Fight For You

It's here! The highly anticipated cover for Fight For You! 

Nicky Ragusa lives his life inside the cage, circuiting the underground ring to escape his fate as the mafia prince. When Jackie Marks crashes into his life, he’ll take the fight outside the cage.

 But the battle for Jackie’s heart comes with a steep price. Nicky’s father has wanted him to take over the family business for years, and the time for running is over. Now Nicky is right where his father has always wanted him: in the middle of a war.

All Nicky has ever wanted to do was fight. Now all he has to do is fight for her.

Expected Release Date: April 11th, 2014

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And OKAY...I guess y'all really came because you wanted behind the scenes photos with my cover models, right? Okay. here are some to keep you happy!

And an excerpt! **Warning: This does contain language and some violence.**

Every time my fist smacked against the bag, I expected a surge of pain, but nothing came. I was numb. All I did was hit the bag for days, trying to get my head somewhere else, anywhere else but my reality.

“Nicky, I think you killed it. That plastic thing isn’t going to ever see its little punching bag babies again.” Coach stood next to the bag, looking at me with his eyebrows creased and a bead of sweat glistening on his forehead like it always did when he was nervous.

“Just lemme get a few more punches in. That’s all I need.” I took a few more jabs at the bag. I wanted to feel something. Anything. But still there was nothing.

Coach grabbed my wrists, stopping them in mid air. “Nicky, you’ve had enough. It’s late. Tracy’s called at least twenty times to tell me to get my ass home. It’s past nine. I’ve missed dinner and putting the kids to bed.”

He gripped tighter onto my wrists. “It’s time to leave. The fight’s this weekend. You’re ready, kid. You know that as well as I do.”

I slumped my shoulders and shook my head. I’d been at the gym a lot longer than I thought. Every part of my body groaned from those tiny movements. Finally some sort of feeling. “Yeah, say that when el Lobo has his foot in my ass or some other move he pulls out. I need to be ready for him. That fucker fights dirtier than he looks.”

Coach sighed, dropping my wrists. “You’re your father’s son, Nicky.”

I stared at him. The defeat in his eyes. He didn’t mean the words as an insult but they hit me harder than punch ever could. My father was never who I wanted to be.

“You’re right, Coach.” I turned away slowly and walked to the weight bench, sitting down. I slowly peeled back the tape that bound my hands. They were so worn from the day’s wear that they looked more gray than the bright white they were when I first got to the gym after work.

Coach walked over and patted my shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Nicky. You just have a hard head sometimes.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I didn’t look up from my hands, just focused on unwrapping each one, instead of looking up at the disappointed glint in his eyes. It was the same conversation we had every night. He’d ask me to come to stop by his house, make some crack about his old lady making too much food anyway and how the kids wouldn’t bother me too much. I’d, of course, say I had some work to catch up on from the office or that my mom was making pasta and asked me to stop by. None of which were true and he knew it.

But tonight he didn’t fight me.

“All right, Nick, think ya can lock up when you’re done? You know, the old lady has been on my ass out being out late every night and with the fight this weekend ...” his words trailed off. I didn’t need to look up to know that he was raking his fingers through his salt and pepper crew cut, the way he always did when he was nervous. I’d seen it a million times when I was in the cage.

“Yeah, Coach, you’re fine. Go, be with Tracy and the kids. You don’t need to babysit me. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

I stopped unwrapping my hands and looked up at him, forcing a smile. Did I really want him to leave so that I would be alone? No. Sure, I could have called up my cousin Dominic, but he would probably still be at the Candy Shop. Some guys enjoyed going to the strip club every night. To me, it would always be the place that my father did his backroom deals with some battona on his lap. I knew all of this because he started taking me when I was in middle school. He said I had to learn the family business young if I was going to take over.

“Yeah, Coach, I’m positive. Now go on. Don’t make me kick your ass.” I patted him on the back.

“Not before the fight, Nick. Save that for the scumbag wolf, will ya?” He stepped back, holding his hands up. I imagine that at some point Coach was a good fighter and could probably still hold up with the best of them, but now in his early forties, he wasn’t as spry as he used to be and I was pretty sure I could take him out with one kick. Though I’d never try, but if someone else did I’d kill them. That was a fact.

“Will do.”

He nodded and stared at me, shoving his hands in his pockets. I knew he wanted to say something else, but we both knew that he wouldn’t. That wasn’t his style. He kicked the shit out me in training and in the cage. Other than that, he tried to stay out of it too much. That’s why he had stayed in my life so long.

“Goodnight, Nick.”

“Night, Coach.”

The Only One in John Boy's POV

1000 ADDS ON GOODREAD? OH MY STARS! You are all amazing. and to celebrate, I've written John and Melanie's first meeting from John's POV. Keep in mind, it's unedited, but I think you'll get a real hint into the eyes of John Boy. Enjoy! And guess what else? THURSDAY is release day! EEEK. So close!


Halloween parties at the Alpha Mu house are always amateur hour. Girls half dressed meant more random guys groping them, somehow thinking that feeling up a girl in a bunny costume was the way to get them in bed. No matter how drunk a girl is, that shit doesn’t fly. Missy and some of the other Kappas had been on my ass all night. Maybe the loincloth was a bad idea. I spotted her near the bar, standing up on her tip toes with her eyes wide and searching the room for me. I had to get away as fast as possible. I made a beeline behind a group of girls in lingerie, glancing back to make sure she didn’t see me. My bare chest hit something warm and then I felt a cold pool of liquid spill down my abs before I heard a gasp. I looked down and met a gorgeous pair of green eyes. It took me a minute before I could place the wide-eyed girl. She was the manager at the coffee shop in the student center. The girl barely ever looked at me. She was the only one that didn’t care if I smiled at her or said anything. Most girls I didn’t even have to talk to. They just threw themselves at me and hoped I’d fuck them. This girl was the only one who ever blew me off. My eyes trailed down to wear a giant red spot soaked through her sweater. A gray sweater. Fuck me, she was wearing a Hermione costume. Not the slutty ones they sell at those overpriced Halloween stores. This one was full on authentic Hermione with the gray sweater, Gryffindor scarf, and gray skirt. And she looked even hotter than the real thing. I didn’t usually make the first move on a girl, but for this girl I made an exception. I leaned over and whispered into her ear, making a suggestion she should come up to my room. She whimpered. An amazing sound that came from her full lips. “Down, John Boy!” Before the girl had a chance to answer, Trey’s boyfriend, Monica jumped in between us, her eyes narrowed at me like she was about to bite my head off like some rabid Chihuahua. Thank God Trey swooped in and calmed her down. With my height and size I wasn’t afraid of too many people, but I didn’t put it past Monica to attack me. “John Boy spilled a drink on Melanie to try and get her naked!” Monica yelled. Melanie. That was her name. And I wasn’t trying to get her naked, but since she mentioned it I couldn’t help but let my eyes graze over Melanie. She was petite and had just the right amount of curves. I wouldn’t have minded peeling off that sweater and seeing what she was hiding under those layers. They went on arguing about me and Melanie, but I didn’t care what they were saying. All I cared about was staring at the beautiful girl before me and thinking how bad I wanted to run my fingers through her curly hair. “John Boy, do you have an extra shirt that Monica’s friend can borrow?” Trey asked. I couldn’t help but grin. Getting her out of her costume was exactly what I had in mind. I glanced over at Melanie whose face was bright red. I wasn’t used to girls getting embarrassed. And I loved that I had that effect on her. "What do you say, Melanie, care to come up to my room?" Her face flushed even redder and her bright green eyes met mine. At that moment I knew I was a goner for those eyes and when she bit her bottom lip, I never wanted someone so bad. I had to stop staring at her lips or I’d have a giant boner that the whole party would see in my loincloth. "Great, we're coming with." Monica glared at me before grabbing Melanie’s arm and dragging her toward the stairs. I followed after them, not willing to give up on the girl. Fuck, who was I? I didn’t chase after girls this hard. She was definitely different. Definitely someone I wanted to get to know. Monica charged up the steps, yanking Melanie with her like she was on a mission. I didn’t even know if she cared I was behind her. Until she looked back. Right at me. The smile on her face made my whole body come alive. Every muscle. Every nerve. It was all hyper aware of the beautiful girl in front of me. I did the only thing I could think to do and I winked. That caused her to smile even wider before she looked forward again. Trey slipped past me like some fucking, stealth republican super hero and then slid onto Monica’s side. They went on with their political banter the whole way up to the second floor. I thought since they were talking that meant Melanie would look back at me. Something. Throw me a bone. But she didn’t. She never looked back. By the time they stopped at my door, I was more than ready to work the charm on Melanie. I walked past her, making sure to brush against her arm as I walked to my door. Of course I didn’t realize how much of an effect her touch would have on me. Just feeling her soft skin against me instantly made every hair on my body stand on end and a warm sensation fill my stomach. She had a floral yet fruity scent that wafted from her hair and neck that smelled amazing. It was like the smell of spring and I wanted to wrap myself in that scent and never lead. I swallowed hard, trying to regain my composure and opened the door. I really needed to clean the place. Usually the girls that I hooked up with didn’t care if my room was a mess. They only cared about getting on my futon and getting off. Of course Monica had to point out the messiness of my room. The girl was out to clock block me. I had to make up for it, so I leaned down and whispered to Melanie. I tried to keep my focus on her, but I found my eyes trailing to wear the red drink soaked through her sweater and was pressed against her skin. I wanted to peel it off and lick the red drink right off of her stomach. I said the first thing that came to me. “Some girls prefer things a little out of order. What do you think about it, Red?” I winked, hoping she didn’t think I was a complete creeper and ran out of my room. She looked up at me, her eyes wide and cheeks almost as red as her sweater. I had her. “Red?” she asked, her voice coming out as a shaky breath. God she had a sexy voice. It flowed like honey and I wanted to taste it. “Yeah, you know, because of what’s soaking through that lovely sweater.” I couldn’t help but look back at her shirt and then to meet her gaze. This girl had me wrapped around her finger and she didn’t even know it. Of course Monica cock blocked again, jumping in between us and asking me to get her a shirt. I groaned but reluctantly went to my closet and dug through my dresser for a shirt. I pulled out the first shirt I could find and tossed it at Monica. When I stood back up, Monica had lip curled, holding the shirt up. “Seriously? You expect Melanie to walk around wearing this?” “What? That’s a nice one. Usually girls have to do a lot more than just get a drink spilled on them to get one of my shirts.” I cringed inwardly as I said it. Great, now Melanie probably thought I was some random douche bag that hooked up with every girl in sight. Okay. Maybe I did do that but I wanted it to be different with her. If I could get past Monica. I tried to talk to Melanie again, but as soon as I got the chance Monica was already ushering her out the door and up to the third floor bathroom. Fuck. I couldn’t lose my chance with her. I glanced over my shoulder before I headed down the stairs, praying that wouldn’t be the last time I’d see her and she’d come back to the party. And if she didn’t come back, I knew I couldn’t stop seeing her. She was the only one to ever make me feel like I wanted more than a hook up and I didn’t want to lose her. No matter what.

Teaser Contest!

Have you seen all of those picture teasers all of Pinterest, Twitter, and Facebook?

Ones like this...

I love them. Do you love them?

GOOD.

Then I have a contest for you. Starting Now and going through the next week, create one of these teasers and post to pinterest or on my facebook or Twitter page to be entered to win an eARC of The Only One.

**Make sure to tag me on any of these posts, so I can find it! If you don't want to put it on social media, you can email me at authormagan@gmail.com with the teaser and I'll post it for you!**

What would you make a picture of? I've already posted the first 30 pages of the book (links below to the excerpts) so choose any of your favorite passages and have fun with it!

By the end of next week (9/27) I will chose two (possibly more) winners to get an eARC of the entire book!

What are you waiting for? Make some John Boy hotness

Excerpt 1

Excerpt 2

Excerpt 3

Excerpt 4

Excerpt 5

Excerpt 6

Last Five Page teaser for The Only One

He leaned against the back wall of the couch before he peeled off his shirt, leaving only his bronzed chest for me to stare at. On his right pec was a Celtic cross that looked like it was carved out of a tree, complete with gnarled roots at the bottom. He ran his fingers along the circle where a few leaves branched out from the cross. “This is to show that I’m firmly rooted in my family’s heritage.” Slowly he slid closer, turning toward me so that I had a full view of his broad chest and the second tattoo on his left pec of a tribal bull. “What is this one for?” I whispered, staring at the dozens of lines that made the running bull. He took my hand in his and brought my fingers up to the tail of the bull. My fingertips lingered over the details. I thought it would feel different than regular skin. If anything it was a little smoother, but I didn’t know if that was the tattoo or just how John’s body felt under my fingertips. “It was my nickname when I played hockey in high school. The guys used to say I was like a bull in a china shop, but I took more out of it than that.” He moved my fingers down from the bull’s snout to its tail. “Bulls are misunderstood creatures. Everyone thinks they’re just these big things that are out to attack everyone they meet. I think they’re just provoked and have to do something to defend themselves.” “And you think you’re like the bull?” I moved my head up and saw that John wasn’t looking down at the tattoo; his eyes were directly focused on me. “Yeah, I know it’s cheesy and not something guys usually say, but definitely. Everyone thinks I’m just some big guy that wants to either fuck or fight. Maybe I don’t want that.” “Then what do you want?” He leaned in even closer so his face was barely an inch from mine. The flicker of vulnerability I saw was gone and replaced by a very sexy smile. “Right now, I want to see if you have any tattoos hidden under that sweater.” I tried to control my breathing. I knew I shouldn’t have been so nervous. That I could have held my ground, but the nearness of him and the whole admitting that he felt vulnerable had me wanting him even closer. “No tattoos, but I do have a piercing.” “Really?” He raised his eyebrows. I leaned back on the chair and lifted up my shirt slowly, making sure to suck in my stomach. I did work out regularly, but I definitely didn’t have the body John did and wasn’t as comfortable as him to show all of it. He bent forward, his fingers grazing the tiny silver bar that pierced my belly button. “Nice.” He inched closer until his face was right at my stomach. His lips left feather light kisses on each side of the bar before his tongue darted forward and circled my belly ring. I gasped at the feeling of his warm tongue against my cold stomach. He put his tongue back in his mouth and looked up at me with a huge grin on his face. “Very nice.” “I thought you wanted to hear more about the Mennonites.” He put his hands on either side of my waist. “You’re the one that started this, Red. If you don’t want to finish it, we can study. But it’s going to be damn hard if I have to stare at your hot little body in those tights all night.” He put the ball in my court. I could have gone back to working on my paper. I should have gone back to working on my paper, but instead I let another part of me win over. I put my hands on either side of his face and then crushed my lips to his. At first he didn’t kiss back, but when he did, it came in full force, pulling me off the chair. I pushed him forward, knocking him into the couch while I straddled my legs against his waist. His fingertips roamed my lower back, pushing my sweater up so that every touch grazed my bare skin. His tongue circled mine and then he sucked it gently just like he did to my belly ring only a few seconds before. The guy definitely knew what he was doing and I definitely wasn’t as experienced as I thought I was. My hands fumbled for where to go. I didn’t know if I should try and go for his pants or if he wanted me to touch his arms. Instead they just awkwardly flailed from his biceps to the couch behind us and back. Finally John moved his hands and took mine, placing them above his head. Since I was so much shorter than him, I was in an awkward position and my arms actually felt like they were being stretched out. I broke the kiss, fearing that if I didn’t my arms would break off. John arched an eyebrow as I sat up and pulled my arms down, trying to resist shaking them out. “Sorry I suck at this.” I blew out a deep breath of air. He slowly sat up, his body still underneath mine. “Red, trust me, you definitely don’t suck at this. And while that was pretty awesome, I’m not just here to judge you on your making out skills.” “Then why did you come over?” He sighed. “Despite what it looks like and what you think of me, I actually did come over here to study with you.” “I don’t think anything of you.” “Please, I’m not stupid. The checking out my tattoos, showing me your belly ring, and even that sexy outfit. It all added up to us being on the couch.” I dropped my jaw, my mouth gaping open. “I did not plan to have you come over so we could fool around. How could you think that of me?” Okay, maybe I did expect if he came over there would be some kissing, but it’s not like I always studied with guys just to make out. There were plenty of guys I studied with in my major. Okay, maybe only a few. But John didn’t need to know that. He placed his hands on the small of my back. “It’s cool that you can’t resist me. In fact it’s pretty fucking awesome, but I don’t just want to get in your pants all the time.” “Then what do you want?” I tilted my head. He shrugged. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t. When I saw you in class the other day I just thought ‘I need to talk to her. I need to spend more time with her.’” “And why is that?” I pressed. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know the answer, but my curiosity won out. “As much as I’d like to carry you over to that nice bed over there or press you against that lovely book shelf, I know that Monica and Trey would have my balls if I did anything to hurt you.” “Maybe Monica and Trey don’t know me as well as they think. Maybe I did just invite you over here for sex.” He pressed a very chaste kiss on my jawline. “A girl that recognizes my Deathly Hallows tattoo isn’t the type of girl that humps and dumps.” He glanced over at the clock that hung above my TV. “And I should probably get going if we’re going to keep it that way.” “What?” I couldn’t keep the shock out of my voice. John grabbed his shirt from the floor and I slowly slid off of him while he pulled it back over his head. “As much as I’d love to stay and see where this would go, I think it’d be better if I left.” I was flabbergasted. I couldn’t even think of what to say. I didn’t expect him to really stay and help me study, but I didn’t think he would just up and leave either. He stood, pulling the last inch of his shirt down. “You’d better get to work on that paper.” He leaned over and placed a quick kiss on my cheek. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” With that he took the few steps to my front door and left. Leaving me there with my mouth gaping open wondering what the hell just happened.


I can't believe how amazing you all are! All these adds on GoodReads is just flooring me!

We hit 800 adds SO quick.  I'm going to have to stop it here, but stay tuned tomorrow for a contest announcement that will involve all of these teasers!

Add it to GoodReads!

Five more pages of The Only One

Chapter 3 “You seem so tense. Maybe I need to come by your place and give you a massage or something.” He squeezed my side. If he thought I was tense before, he probably thought I had gone rigor. My body seized under his touch and it became hard to breathe. “Um, no, that’s okay.” We were almost in front of Brown Hall and I had to get away before I did or said something stupid and made a fool of myself. “I better get to class. Don’t want to be late.” I wiggled out of his grasp and power walked like an old lady toward Brown. “See you around, Red!” I heard him yell behind me, but all I could do was wave because if I turned around and saw him smiling, there was no way I was ever going to actually make it to class. On the one hand, he seemed like a big player. No guy just makes out with a girl in the middle of a fraternity party if he wasn’t. But on the other hand, there was something different about him that was becoming highly addictive and hard to stay away from. Maybe the guy wasn’t a player and maybe I’d get a chance to find out. But that would have to wait until after class.   Chapter 4 The next few days were filled with the normal routine of work and classes. It made me acutely aware of what little of a life I actually had. My dad bailing on us put a lot of financial stress on my mom before I went to college. I had to rely on student loans and a lot of hours at the coffee shop just to get by. I couldn’t blow all that by going out every night. That would be why I was currently sitting alone in my apartment while everyone else was probably out. The Halloween party at the Alpha Mu house was a fluke. No matter how much I tried to concentrate, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander to images of John. Not just how good he looked in a loincloth, but the way he looked at me. Like there wasn’t anyone else around. Hell, he ditched two blonde girls to talk to me. No. I shook my head, even though no one could see me. I’d been staring at my open Word document, typing my paper for American Religious History. It was very dry material and I constantly had to take breaks to check my Facebook or watch a Youtube video just to stay awake. After an additional half an hour of reading another boring article, I decided I deserved another Facebook break. Usually not much had changed on my newsfeed except for some more memes or people with bad grammar from high school posting about something stupid. But this time I did have something new. One friend request. I clicked on it and there was a picture of a guy in a loincloth. John “John Boy” Walden wants to be your friend. I couldn’t help it. I giggled and quickly pressed accept. No sooner had I pressed the button when a message popped up. Hey, Red, thought we should become official friends. I gasped unconsciously. It was as if he was waiting for me to come on. I wondered what he was doing at this exact moment, but it would have been really creepy to ask, so instead I just went for normal conversation. Good Call. Whatcha doing? What was I doing? Did he just ask that? Was he going to ask me to do something? How should I respond to that? “Pull yourself together, Melanie,” I chastised myself. “You don’t need to be that crazy girl who fawns over what a guy’s thinking. You also shouldn’t be the crazy girl that talks to herself.” Nothing much. I’m just working on my history paper, you? Seriously? It’s Thursday night and I’d expect a fine ass girl like you to already be pre-gaming. I always found it nuts to drink on a week night. I had classes the next day and I wouldn’t miss those. I cared more about what my teachers thought of me than the other students a lot of the time. The people having parties weren’t giving me a grade. It’s not really my thing. What if you came over here and hung out with me then? We could make it your thing. I had to seriously think about that one. On the one hand, I wouldn’t mind seeing him outside of the classroom. On the other, I didn’t want to be just another notch in his bedpost. That’s all I figured he wanted anyway. He just seemed to really be going out of his way to get it. Was he actually into me? No, it’s fine. We can’t all be overachievers like you and I really need to get this paper done. Want some company? Was he really asking what I thought he was? I could swing by if you need someone to show you how a history paper is done. I knew how to write a paper; I was an English major for God’s sake. I had just been procrastinating on it. I didn’t really need his help. Which was why my reply shocked even me. If you want to come over and hang out and talk about the Mennonites, I guess that’s fine. Was the paper just innuendo for sex? I wasn’t good at these types of things. It took me a long time before I even fully understood the context of the donut shirt. Cool. I can be over there in a bit. Where do you live? I quickly typed in my address. What the hell was I doing? I wasn’t the type of girl that just had guys over to my apartment. My apartment! I sprang from my chair and surveyed the room. Sure, it may have only been about 450 sq feet, but that didn’t stop me from constantly making a mess of it. Directly across from my desk and couch was my kitchen, or more like the wall that my sink, fridge, and stove were on. There were a few dirty dishes in the sink that I hadn’t gotten to. Crap. I didn’t have time to wash them and I didn’t want to do a half-hearted scrub so I just opened my freezer and tossed the plastic bowls in. I would just have to worry about them later. I then slid across the hardwood floor to my bedroom. Okay, not much of a bedroom, but I had a cubed, open book shelf from Ikea that I displayed all my books on and it at least blocked my bed from the rest of the room. Quickly, I made my bed and stacked my pillows on it. Another quick swoop of the room and I found a pile of dirty clothes. I didn’t technically have a closet, but a wall across from my bed had a curtain rod dangling across it. Nowhere to hide my clothes. Why did I care so much? John’s room looked like a tornado went through it. But I did care. No guy had ever come to my apartment, even just to do homework. I surveyed the room one last time. There was only so much I could do with the place, but at least it looked presentable. When I turned away from the front door to the bathroom opposite it, I caught my reflection in the mirror and gasped. I may have cleaned up my apartment, but maybe I should have checked out myself. After working all day I had bad hat hair, so I quickly just pulled it into a bun on top of my head. It was at least a little better, but that didn’t hide the dark circles under my eyes. I rushed in and found my makeup bag on the sink and searched through it until I found concealer to try and cover up as much as I could. “Okay, not half bad.” Before I could make another move, a knock came at my door. Shit, was it that time already? I stuffed my makeup back in the bag and tossed it in the bathtub, pulling the shower curtain shut so he wouldn’t see that mess, either. I stared at myself in the mirror one last time. “You can do this, Melanie. It’s just studying.” I turned around, closing the bathroom door behind me, and then finally opened the front door. John stood with one arm leaning against the doorframe, making his t-shirt slightly rise up so I could see a hint of his stomach and even the waistband of his underwear. I tried not to stare and looked up to his smiling face, but it wasn’t my face he was looking at. “Nice tights, Red.” He nodded. In all my rush I completely forgot to change clothes. I swallowed hard, looking down at my red and white snowflake leggings and the giant gray hoodie I was lounging in. I could have at least changed my clothes instead of worrying so much about the alignment of my bookshelf. “Uh, thanks.” He pushed off the doorframe and practically strutted into the room, his eyes trailing around with amusement. “Nice place you got here. No roommate?” I shut the door, shaking my head. “No, it’s just me.” I didn’t want to deal with roommates. I had a crazy one my freshman year in the dorms who always brought random guys over and I’d find dirty boxers on our floor. “Nice.” He set his nylon computer bag on the coffee table and plopped down on the couch. I picked up most of my furniture on sale or through Craigslist ads. The couch was one that some guy was selling after his wife left him. I still didn’t completely trust it and had shampooed it three times. It had started off beige, but by the third cleaning it almost looked off-white. I leaned against my fridge, unsure of where else to go. I could have either sat next to him on the couch or on my bed, but I didn’t want things to lead to the bedroom. “Do you want something to drink?” He shook his head. “No, I’m good. You could just stop standing there staring at me like I’m going to rob the place.” “I-I-I didn’t say I thought you were going to do that.” A large grin spread across his face. “I’m just shitting you, Red.” “I totally knew that.” I blinked. “But seriously, you don’t need to just stand and stare. I’ve been waiting this whole walk over for you to regale me with these stories of Mennonites.” Right. My paper. That’s why he was over. I took the few steps over to my desk, which was smooshed between my bookcase and the couch. At least my desk chair gave me somewhere else to sit. “If you really want to hear all the exciting details, I’m sure I can share them.” I sat down at my chair and was eye level with his bicep. That’s when I really noticed the detail of his tattoo. I may have been sitting next to him all week, but he usually wore long sleeves and I was too busy trying to avert my eyes from other things the night of the Halloween party. “Is that what I think it is?” I leaned in closer, making out the triangle shape with a circle in the middle and a line running through that. On each slope of the triangle a few words were scrolled out. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” I whispered it until I finally realized what it was and had to hold back my squeal. “Oh my god! It’s Deathly Hallows! You didn’t tell me you were a Harry Potter fan.” He laughed, a sound that came from low in his stomach. I met his eyes, which sparkled a mesmerizing blue even in the dim light of my apartment. “I guess it just never came up. I was always a fan of the books when they came out and it just seemed like a good piece of ink to get.” I wanted to reach out and trace the lines of the tattoo. I couldn’t believe I never noticed it before and now I wanted more. “What about your other ones?” He smirked. “You noticed those?” “You were sort of in a loincloth the other night. They were kind of hard to miss.” He turned at his waist, pulling up his shirt sleeve slightly on the other bicep. I half expected it to be the Hogwarts crest, but it was definitely more detailed than that. A lion’s head sat at the top of a teal crest with two shaking hands at the top and a buccaneer ship below that. A white ribbon molded around the bottom of the crest with the words Alpha Mu across it. “For your fraternity?” He nodded, his eyes meeting mine as I looked up from the intricate detail that circled each bit of the lion’s mane. “Do you want to see the others?” I spoke before I even thought about what I was saying. “Yes.”


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Five more pages of The Only One

Chapter 3 Midterms were approaching, which meant a lot more homework and a lot more people showing up for classes. On Mondays I worked in the morning and then headed to American Religious History. It was across the quad from the student center where Brewster’s was located, in the Art building that looked like a giant juicer. It was a decent sized lecture hall, shaped in a half-circle with five rows of desks descending to a lower level where the professor’s podium was located. There was a giant screen behind that where he put up all the lecture slides. I slumped down in an open desk near the back and searched through my bag for a notebook. Most everyone on campus just carried their laptops or iPads so they could play games while the professor lectured, but I still preferred the old pen and paper way. There was something about the feeling of putting pen to paper that I found invigorating. It was probably why I was an English major. I loved writing long hand. I had old journals full of half ass story ideas and notes from classes sitting in boxes back at my mom’s house. Digging through my bag, I finally found a pen, but just as I grabbed it and put it on my desk it promptly rolled onto the floor. “Shit,” I mumbled. I scrambled out of my desk when the pen stopped at a pair of Pumas. “Sorry!” I yelped and reached for the pen. “No prob, Red.” Slowly, I grabbed my pen and when I stood up I met the endless blue pools of John Boy’s eyes. I’d never noticed him in my class before, but then again usually I was busy staring down at my notebook trying to take down notes. “Hey, John.” I tried to regain my composure and sat in my seat. He took the one next to me, a small smile on his face. He pulled a slim Macbook out of his bag and sat it on the desk in front of him. Out of all my classes, why did he have to be in the one I looked like crap for? There he was, looking gorgeous in a gray knit sweater and faded jeans that fit every bit of his form perfectly. The guy had to be literally all muscle. And I had seen a lot of him when he was wearing just the loincloth. I found myself thinking about what was under his clothes and my face heated up from the thought. “So you’re going to call me John now?” He arched an eyebrow and tilted his head down, which just brought out the slight dimple on his chin. God he was too damn attractive. “Um, well that’s your name, isn’t it?” “Yeah, but most people call me John Boy.” “And why is that?” I tapped my pen on my notebook, trying to figure out something to do with my hands. He let out a single laugh. “Just a nickname my pledge brothers gave me freshman year. When your name is John Walden, and it sounds similar enough to Walton, it just sort of happens.” “As in John Boy from the Waltons? The TV show?” I didn’t think anyone under the age of seventy actually knew about that show. I only knew because my grandma was obsessed with it. “It’s basic pop culture. I know you probably think we’re a bunch of dumb jocks who run around with paddles, but we at least know about the Walton mountain.” I swallowed, trying to figure out the right words so I wouldn’t make a fool of myself, again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.” He nudged my arm with his. “I’m just shitting you. Don’t take life so seriously. You could really stand to loosen up.” “Sorry. I’m not brave enough to walk around a party in a loincloth.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm on my ear. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t mind it if you did. Or just my bedroom” Every hair stood on end and my body heated up like I took a hair dryer to my skin. The guy certainly knew the right spot to hit. He was definitely trouble. But maybe a good kind of trouble. “So, um, I’ve never seen you in this class before.” I tried to regain my composure and sat up straighter. “Been here all year, but usually I sit in the back. I couldn’t help but notice this head of gorgeous curly hair that’s always near the front taking notes.” His fingers coiled around a strand of my hair that had fallen out of my ponytail and he pushed it behind my ear. “I’m just usually too late to get the seat next to you.” “Oh, um, heh...” I couldn’t think of anything to say and just felt like a blubbering idiot. Thank God I was saved by Professor Marks stumbling into class with two of his grad students behind him. He dusted off his sweater vest and raked his fingers through his mop of gray hair. Our professor may have been one of the goofiest guys, but I liked him. He sounded like Woody Allen when he talked and made the Mennonite migration actually interesting. “Sorry fellow historians, I know I’m late again and you are all just dying to get on to the next American religious movement.” He stepped up to his desk and logged onto the computer, his desktop background popping up on the giant screen behind him. “Have you started your paper yet?” John whispered. “Yeah, I’ve done a little bit of research. What about you?” I kept my eyes on the professor as he pulled up the power point presentation for fear if I moved I would just end up staring at John. Or end up with my lips on his. Which wouldn’t have been so bad if we weren’t in class. “Finished it up the other night. Nothing better than Mormon culture in Missouri.” I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. His voice didn’t raise with sarcasm, it just kept the same even tone. “Overachiever,” I whispered. “I like to get things done.” I tried to focus on the professor but I couldn’t help paying attention to every move that John made. It was probably a good thing I didn’t know he was in this class before or I would have never been able to concentrate. Every time his fingers touched the keyboard I found myself watching how his hands moved and thinking about how those same hands were on my hips just a few nights before and what other parts of him were pressed against me. I was expecting him to be one of the guys that would just play games or check his Facebook, but he really was paying attention. Maybe he wasn’t the dumb jock I pegged him as. By the time class was over I had barely taken any notes and was hoping there wasn’t something big I missed. I gathered up my stuff and put it in my bag, ready to walk out of class, but then John put his hand on my lower back. I glanced up to meet his pearly white smile. How was I supposed to stay away from the guy that made me melt just from a little smile? “Where you headed, Red?” “I have World Literature over in Brown, you?” He kept his hand on my lower back as we headed down the row and out of the classroom. My whole body was acutely aware of his fingers and I had a feeling every other girl was aware of it as well. A few whispers came from some of the girls that we passed walking through the class and out the doors into the November air. I didn’t even want to guess what they were saying, but from the glimpses of snarled upper lips I didn’t think it was anything good. “I’ve got Algorithms and Data structure over in Ike.” “Say what?” I looked up at him. He tilted his head back, laughing softly. “It’s a computer class. I’m a computer science major.” “Seriously?” I widened my eyes. He had to be messing with me. A guy with a body like his had to be some sort of kinesiology major or something. I’d seen a lot of the computer science majors and they were the type of guys that lived for online gaming, not fine specimens like John Walden. “Man, you don’t give me any credit. Yeah, I’m really a computer science major. Does that surprise you?” “Honestly, yeah. I didn’t think that was your type of thing.” “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.” He leaned down, pressing his lips to my ear. “And a lot I’d love to show you.” His tongue grazed the very edge of my jaw line, sending a shiver of pleasure all the way down to my toes. “John Boy!” John snapped his head up and I gasped when I saw two buxom blondes in Kappa Beta shirts sauntering in his direction. Just what I wanted to see. Ugh. I had nothing against sorority girls. In fact, Monica was a Kappa Beta at her old school and my sister was a Sigma. But there was just something about the way these two girls puffed their chests out and smiled at John that made my blood boil. “Hey Layla, Hey Lex.” He nodded in their direction and still kept his hand on my back. Good. Showed them that I wasn’t just another random girl. Even though I wasn’t exactly sure what I was. “Do you all know Melanie? She’s Trey’s girlfriend’s friend.” The curlier of the blondes slowly moved her gaze in my direction, blinking hard. “Oh, yeah. You work at Brewster’s, right?” “Yeah. Yeah I do.” I nodded, unsure what I was supposed to say. She turned her attention back to John and scooted closer to him, running her manicured fingers down his arm like I wasn’t even there. “So, did you and Gabe talk about the mixer for Friday night? We’d love to do an exchange with our Alpha boys.” I felt like that was my cue to leave and I slowly tried to slip away, but then John’s hand slinked around my waist, pulling me against him. Even while his eyes were on the girl, I felt that his attention was focused on me. “Yeah. I’ll have Gabe text you or something.” He squeezed my side. “See you, Layla.” He turned me in the other direction and started walking away from the two blondes, who had to be gaping at me. “Trying to get away from me, Red?” “I just need to get to class and you were talking...” He laughed, a low sound that came from deep in his stomach. “You need to chillax a little.” “What?” I raised an eyebrow. The leaves were changing colors and starting to fall off the trees, blanketing the ground in a crunchy array of reds and oranges. If I was by myself I may have gone out of my way to find a particularly crunchy one to step on. But I couldn’t embarrass myself like that in public and especially not in front of John.


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Chapter 2 I should have kept a closer eye on the time because only four hours after I left the party I had to be at work. I groaned when I heard the ringing of my alarm clock and begged for it to be the wrong time. No such luck. My curtains were closed, but I could still make out the slight morning light. At least I was a student manager in a coffee shop, so I could just caffeinate myself up and get a nap in at noon. I swung my legs over the bed and sat up, stretching my arms over my head. The top I was wearing fell down to my legs and that’s when I remembered that I fell asleep wearing John Boy’s shirt. It even still smelled like him. Yes, he might have been sweaty that night, but his cologne was amazing. It wasn’t overpowering like the expensive stuff Trey wore, but a light scent, like fresh cotton. That was the moment I realized I was sniffing his shirt and felt like an idiot. I tore off the shirt and walked the few feet through my tiny living room to my bathroom, throwing it in the hamper. Better to wash the shirt and give it back to him right away. Monica would probably be asking for it soon anyway. By the way she was acting I could tell she didn’t think too highly of the guy, even though I was pretty sure he was Trey’s fraternity big brother. There were still remnants of the red drink that had dried into a sticky goo on my stomach and I needed a long scrub. I showered, brushed my teeth, brushed my hair, put on some makeup, and went back out into the living room. I couldn’t have shared my box of a studio apartment with a roommate. It only took about ten steps to get from the bathroom to my closet and I didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing me naked. But it wouldn’t hurt to have someone in my apartment. Someone who looked very good in just a loincloth. I shook the thoughts out of my head as I slipped my regulation uniform red polo over my head. I couldn’t keep thinking about John Boy. He wasn’t the type of guy that dated girls like me. He was the guy that wanted one thing. Not that it would have been a bad thing, either. My high school boyfriend and I tried to work it out our freshman year of college, but I preferred to stay faithful and he preferred to screw other girls. I’d been single since I caught him cheating when I went to visit him at his school. I’d met a string of guys in some of my journalism classes, but nothing did it for me like John Boy did on the dance floor. Maybe all I needed was to just screw him and get it over with. That wasn’t my usual M.O., but maybe it was time for something new. No, no, no. Monica would kill me. Or maybe she wouldn’t have to know. *** Brewster’s Beans was located on the first floor of the student center. It was decorated in red and black to match the school colors. Hardly anyone came in on Sunday mornings so I always found myself rearranging coffee bags and counting the floor tiles. I was the only person working until ten when Monica came in, so I brought some homework to work on after I started all the drip coffees. I was just finishing a chapter of my history textbook when I heard footsteps on the floor near me. Quickly, I shoved my book underneath the counter and looked up to meet a lazy grin and bright blue eyes. John Boy. He was wearing a blue t-shirt with red AM letters across his very broad chest. His biceps were busting out of his shirt and I couldn’t help letting my gaze trail to the tattoos on them. I really wanted to get a better look, but wasn’t sure how exactly to ask a guy to take his shirt off in a public place. Though this was the guy who wore a loincloth to a party, so he probably would have been up for it. “I thought I remembered you worked here with the Lib.” He sauntered closer, leaning against the pastry case. “Yeah...yeah I do.” My cheeks grew hot. I probably looked like crap from my lack of sleep and the fact that I ran out of foundation. And even with little sleep the Greek God was standing in front of me looking—and smelling—fresher than ever. “Well that’s good, because I was really craving a donut.” He leaned in closer. “Maybe you can help me out with one?” “I, uh, yeah, I can totally get you a donut.” I wasn’t sure if he was talking about the donuts in the pastry case or making a reference to his ‘smile like a donut’ shirt. Either way, I thought I’d play along. “Or I can get you one.” His fingers trailed the bare skin on my arm, leaving goose bumps in their wake. “Am I interrupting something?” I gasped and jumped back when I heard Monica’s voice behind me. “Hey Mon,” I said and looked back at her. Her eyes were locked on John Boy, her eyebrows slightly raised. “Good morning, Lib, pleasure seeing you here.” “I wasn’t expecting to see you here. Are you meeting Trey?” John Boy shook his head with a small smile on his face. “No, just thought I’d see if I could get a donut.” “I hope you’re talking about the kind in the pastry case,” Monica said. He shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe not.” He shot a wink in my direction. “I guess I’ll just take a rain check on that donut, Red.” With that, he pushed off the counter and walked out the side door. Monica followed him with her eyes until he was out of sight. Monica blinked, looking at me like I had something weird on my face. “Um, what was that about?” I shrugged. “I don’t know. He just came in all flirty. He’d never actually done that before the party. I wonder if he even knew I existed.” Monica smiled, adjusting her baseball cap with ‘Student Dining Services’ embroidered across it. “Maybe that Hermione costume really does have some magic on it.” “You leave my costume out of this.” Monica didn’t understand my Harry Potter obsession. Okay, maybe not an obsession. It was something I tried to hide from the other English majors, but really there was nothing better than a good book with action and magic. “Wasn’t there some guy in one of your Lit classes you were interested in, anyway?” She asked, quickly changing the subject off John Boy and my costume. “You mean Walt?” “Yeah. Was he the one that was really into Kerouak and smoked those black cigarettes?” Walt Hines was the epitome of an English major. He always carried around a worn out copy of Slaughterhouse-Five and wore hipster glasses with his girl jeans. I thought he was the type of guy I wanted to be with, until I actually hung out with him. He spent the night scrutinizing every book I’d ever read and told me Harry Potter wasn’t real literature. Once a guy slams down the Weasleys, it’s over. “That would be Walt, but nothing ever happened there and nothing is happening with John Boy. He just came in to say hi.” Monica leaned on the counter. “John Boy never just says ‘hi’ to girls unless it’s followed by ‘wanna screw?’” I said a silent prayer of thanks when a group of students came in and lined up for coffee. That got Monica to stop talking John Boy and get back to work, but that didn’t mean it got me to stop thinking about him or his biceps.


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Next five pages of The Only One

No, no I couldn’t think of him that way. He was the type of guy I needed to avoid. The guy who just wanted me for one thing. The guy I would end up falling hard for and he would just drop me like I was nothing. I had too much of that. I grabbed my sweater and opened the door. Monica was pressed against the wall with her legs wrapped around Trey’s middle. Her fingers were laced through his hair and his hands disappeared somewhere underneath her dress. I was definitely interrupting a heated moment, but I didn’t want to keep staring at their tonsil hockey either, so I cleared my throat. “Um, do we need to go or do you two need to use the bathroom?” A sound like a suction cup peeling off a window came from their mouths as Monica dropped her legs, prying herself away from Trey. He faced away from me, adjusting his boxers. “Sorry about that, Mel. You were taking awhile...and...yeah...” She bit down on her bottom lip and her cheeks flushed. “It’s cool.” I shrugged. “We can go if you all are ready.” Monica hadn’t wanted to go to the party at all, but Trey insisted that she should face her fears and have some fun. That was how I got roped into it. Because dragging her best friend to a party to use when she needed an out to leave seemed like the best option to her. It’s not like I had anything better to do anyway. A sticky shirt and people watching were better than sitting home alone in my apartment and Facebook stalking. “No, no it’s fine!” Monica shook her head and tugged on my arm. “Let’s go dance and get rid of this awkwardness!” *** Monica led me back down to the basement with Trey following close behind. He couldn’t even look at me. It was actually the first time I’d caught them making out. They hadn’t been together that long, but whenever they were in public it was like Trey had to keep up some sort of persona and kept everything to just hand holding. There were a few times I’d seen him kiss her forehead, but that was it. And I had just caught them practically going at it in the stairwell. Once we got down to the basement, some mash up of late 90’s music was playing. Monica pulled me through the crowd until she found a spot the three of us could stand. She faced me and tilted her head back, moving her body to the music. Trey slunk in behind her with his hands on her hips, and moved his body in sync with hers. Once again I was the third wheel in the Monica and Trey wagon, which was why I’d been in the corner in the first place. I was ready to go hit the bar for another drink when a pair of hands slid onto my hips. I froze. I’d never had anyone come up behind me and do that. I trusted Monica to watch out for me and not let some guy take advantage of me, but at the same time I was intrigued about who the hands belonged to. I glanced back and locked eyes with John Boy; his very gaze making me tremble. “I was right about how good that shirt would look on you.” His lips were hot on my ear and linked a direct line to my panties. “It’s, um, a little big, don’t you think?” I managed to squeak out as he rocked my hips back against him. “Don’t you like things big?” I swallowed. My stomach felt like it had dropped to my knees. I tried to regain my thoughts when he laughed against my neck. “I’m just giving you shit, Red, don’t take it too seriously. Just dance with me.” He turned me around so I was facing him. I had to practically stand on my tiptoes while he crouched down so my face wasn’t in his chest. That still didn’t stop me from staring at his chiseled form and also made me acutely aware how subpar my body was compared to his. I tried to suck in my stomach as he pulled me closer, pressing against me. He mouthed the words to the music and I couldn’t help but giggle. “Are you a Backstreet Boys fan?” I had to practically yell over the music and the people making grunting noises around us. Whatever they were doing I didn’t want to know. His laugh tickled my lips and even in the dark basement I could see his blue eyes sparkling. “My older sister was really into them so we always had this on in my mom’s minivan on the way to school.” “Rocking out in a minivan, I didn’t take you to be that type of guy.” “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Red, and a lot I’d be willing to show you.” Before I could respond his hands slid behind my head and he tilted my chin up, putting his mouth to mine. I parted my lips slightly and his tongue slipped in and out teasingly, twirling with mine. He didn’t taste like alcohol, like I would have expected. His kisses were sweet like strawberry bubblegum and I wanted to taste him over and over. His hands slid down to my lower back, his tongue continuing to explore my mouth. His teeth nipped at my bottom lip and I felt a low moan gather in my throat. I craved more of him, sliding my fingers into his hair and pulling him closer, trying to deepen our kiss, but he didn’t budge. He broke the kiss, placing a peck on my forehead before leaning down so his lips were on my ear. “Not here, Red, but if you want to go up to my room to continue this, I’d be happy to accommodate you.” Did I want to? He was a damn good kisser, probably the best I’d ever had. And his body looked like something Photo-shopped out of 300. But I didn’t think I wanted to just be another notch on his bedpost. Luckily Monica came to my rescue as usual. Her hand was on my shoulder and she turned me around. She stood there with her eyebrows furrowed and Trey was right at her back with his arms around her waist. “Hey, are you ready to go, Mel?” “Now? But it’s so early.” And I wanted to keep dancing with John Boy, no matter how stupid his nickname was and even if I didn’t go back up to his bedroom, I could still deal with just making out and whatever else we were doing. “Early?” Her eyes bugged out. “It’s 2 am?” “Seriously?” When did I lose track of time? I swore we had just left my apartment. John Boy’s arm slinked around my waist. “You two can go have your fun and I can bring Red home later.” “Uh, no, I don’t think so.” Monica yanked me forward until John Boy let go of me. “I’m fine, really, my apartment isn’t that far.” “Which is why me and Trey can walk you.” John Boy leaned in over my shoulder. “I can walk her home when she needs it.” “Watch it, loin cloth, I’m not afraid to spork your eyes out.” “Hey, let’s be reasonable here,” Trey spoke up. “I’m sure Melanie would be perfectly fine with having John Boy take her home.” Monica whipped her head in Trey’s direction. “Are you serious right now? I am NOT just leaving my friend at a party.” “She’ll be fine. He’s not going to do anything to her.” Before Monica and Trey could continue their argument I groaned and yelled over them. “I’m right here, you don’t need to talk about me like I’m not.” They both snapped their attention to me. “Sorry, Mel,” Monica grumbled. I sighed. “And I’m ready to go.” I glanced over my shoulder at John Boy. “I guess I’ll see you around.” He grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips, grazing my knuckles. “I wish you’d stay, Red, but I understand if you have to leave.” Locking my eyes with his, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to trace the lines of his tattoos and get tangled in his sheets. But that wasn’t what a girl like me did. That’s why I didn’t have a boyfriend. I didn’t just jump in bed with random guys, no matter how hot they were. “I do, though.” I peeled my hand away. “Goodbye, John.”


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The First Five Pages of The Only One

Chapter 1 The sugary drink burned going down my throat. I hoped it wasn't because the guy who poured it out of the cooler roofied it. At least it drowned out the scents of sweat and stale beer. I didn't know how Monica talked me into an Alpha Mu Halloween party. A horde of girls clad in skimpy costumes pushed past me like I was nothing more than another one of the paddles on the paneled wall. I tried to steer away from them, but my face hit a hard set of pecs. I gasped as I watched my entire drink soak through my sweater and onto my skin. I looked up from my soaked sweater, all the way past a chiseled six pack to cool blue eyes. “Maybe you should just take it off up in my room and I can help you get dry.” He leaned in, his full lips right on my ear. “Or make you wetter.” My breath caught in my throat, rendering me speechless. Luckily my best friend Monica jumped between us, pushing the guy back so I got a full view of him and realized he was only wearing a loincloth and a large smile. "Down, John Boy." She scowled at him and then turned to me, almost knocking her beret off. "What the hell happened to you?" "I-I-I spilled my drink." Monica's eyes narrowed as she looked down at the red liquid soaking through my gray sweater. She whipped her head around to the loincloth-clad guy. "Was this your fault? Are you trying to get my friend naked?" He held up his hands, a cockeyed grin on his face. "Purely an accident, Lib." Ah, now I knew where I’d seen him before. He had come into the coffee shop we worked at a few times. I don’t think he even glanced in my direction more than to hand me his student ID to pay, but was always calling Monica ‘Lib.’ I’m guessing because she was an extreme liberal. Monica's boyfriend, the governor's son Trey Chapman, pushed through the crowd. Usually when I saw him he was polished in dress pants and a dress shirt, but his Halloween costume was nothing more than a pair of American flag boxers, a dress shirt, and some gray hairspray. He looked ridiculous. The Clinton and Lewinsky costumes had been Monica’s idea. "Hey, I’ve been looking for you." He slipped his arm around Monica's waist. "What's going on here?" "John Boy spilled a drink on Melanie to try and get her naked." "Hey!" John Boy yelled. "It wasn't his fault," I piped in. "It’s crowded here and he ran into me. It’s fine." "Fine?" Monica raised her eyebrows. "That Hermione costume you've been wearing since middle school is covered in Everclear and Kool aid. That’s not fine, Mel." "I haven't worn this since middle school!" Okay, truth was, it was my go-to costume. I’d bought it for the first movie's midnight showing and had worn it for every movie opening and Halloween since. "Whatever." Monica turned her head to Trey and tugged on his shirt. "You can just wear Trey's shirt." He shook his head. "I’m not walking around here just in my undershirt. The boxers are bad enough. Why don’t you give her yours?" She looked down at the blue shift dress that we coated with white out. "Then I’ll be down to my bra and underwear." "Not much more than a lot of the girls here are wearing anyway," I muttered. Trey either didn't hear me or chose to ignore me and nodded his head in John Boy's direction. "John Boy, do you have an extra shirt that Monica's friend can borrow?" The grin spread wider on John Boy's face before he ran his hand through his spiky brown hair. "I was just offering her the same thing." His eyes flitted to mine and an electric charge ran down my stomach. "What do you say, Melanie, care to come up to my room?" I swallowed, hard. I didn't usually get propositioned by guys, especially guys with bodies that looked good in nothing but a loincloth. Every part of me was hyper aware of the curves of his muscles and I had to keep from staring at where his treasure trail stopped. "Great, we're coming with." Monica grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the stairs. I glanced back to make sure John Boy was actually following and he was. When he saw me look at him, he shot a wink in my direction. "I can’t believe you were just about to go upstairs with him alone!" Monica hissed in my ear, forcing me to face forward. "I was not," I whispered. "Ugh, I knew this party was a bad idea." Trey squeezed her side and she squealed. "You think everything is a bad idea." "Eavesdrop much, Mr. Chapman?" "Only when you don't try and give things a fair chance, Miss Remy." I rolled my eyes, even though they couldn't see it, because they spent the rest of the way up to the second floor going on with their banter. My friend, the fierce liberal, loved picking fights with the uber conservative. It was like they rarely had a normal conversation, but she loved it. Every time she talked about him her whole face lit up. He’d finally brought her out of the dark clouds she first sat under when she transferred, and now they were inseparable. I, on the other hand, was not taken and would have been just as happy sitting at home and not having something sticky that smelled like licorice on my costume. I’d have to ask Trey who he used for a dry cleaner. We reached the second floor, where a few couples were making out and some girls were taking duck face photos with their phones. Ugh. Trey turned to the right and stopped at the first door. John Boy sauntered in behind us, his loin cloth still perfectly in place. Not that I was hoping for it to have shifted. "And welcome to Chez John Boy, where the magic happens." He pushed open the door and I was overwhelmed by the smell of dirty socks mixed with cologne. The room was small, with an unmade twin bed in one corner, a futon opposite that, and a sole window across from us. Piles of clothes littered the floor and there were posters of half naked women and beer advertisements on the walls. "I can’t believe any girl would actually screw you after seeing this place." Monica curled her upper lip, walking into the tiny room and dodging the piles of clothes. “Some girls prefer things a little out of order. What do you think about it, Red?” John Boy winked. “Red?” My hair definitely wasn’t red and I wasn’t one of those redheads who were in denial, like Monica, who claimed her hair was auburn. No, my hair was dirty, bottom of the sink brown and just as curly as the steel wool used to wash that sink. “Yeah, you know, because of what’s soaking through that lovely sweater.” His eyes trailed down to the now giant red splotch across my shirt. My cheeks heated up and probably turned just as red as my shirt. “Okay, can you stop trying to spit your game at Melanie now and get us a shirt?” Monica groaned. Trey stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, shaking his head. “Keep your hat on, Lib, I’m getting it.” John Boy took a few strides over to the small closet and opened it. There were only empty hangers and a dresser inside. He opened the top drawer and pulled out a dark green shirt, tossing it in Monica’s direction. She caught the shirt and unfolded it, holding it out in front of her before curling her upper lip. “Seriously? You expect Melanie to walk around wearing this?” “What? That’s a nice one. Usually girls have to do a lot more than just get a drink spilled on them to get one of my shirts.” I looked over Monica’s shoulder and raised my eyebrows when I read the shirt. “Alpha Mu: We’ll make you smile like a donut.” I didn’t get it at first and then I noticed the picture. It was of a girl with her mouth as a donut, making a giant O shape. Great, a blow job shirt. “If you want me to make you smile, Red, I’d be happy to oblige.” John Boy sauntered back over, his full height looming over me. In the light I could actually see just how built he was. He looked like one of the MMA fighters from TV with his rippling chest and the tattoos on each of his pecs and his biceps. I just thought he was a big moose of a guy. He never actually said too much to me and now he was using every cheesy line he could. Monica sidestepped between us. She was always overprotective when it came to guys. The only time I ever saw her calm down was when she was sleeping. She went through a lot of crap before she transferred to Central College. Trey and counseling made it a lot better, but I didn’t put it past her to deck John Boy. Even though I’m not sure it would have made an impact, looking at the size of his arms. “Just back off, okay? Thanks for the shirt and I’m sure Melanie will give it to Trey to return to you.” “She can keep it. I’m sure it looks much better on her than me. It compliments those mesmerizing green eyes of hers.” A large grin spread across his face and I could feel my own definitely heat up. I was used to blending in with the crowd and even though he probably wasn’t sincere, it was nice to get a little attention once in awhile. I didn’t even know he knew my eye color. It seemed as if the guy was actually looking at more than my chest. Before I could respond, Monica ushered me out of the room and back down the hall. “You could try and be a little nicer, Mon, John Boy was helping you out.” Trey followed behind us as we squeezed past the people lining the hallway. “Yeah, well, he didn’t have to get all swaggery on her.” Monica took my hand and led me up to the third floor. It was basically empty with a few doors on each side and to our left was a small blue bathroom that smelled even worse than John Boy’s room. “I’ll stand guard at the door while you change.” Monica ushered me into the small bathroom and I shut the door behind me. A bunch of Playboys littered the floor next to an old toilet that must have been white at one time but now looked yellow. Across from that was a small, subway-tiled shower and in front of me was a giant mirror in which I saw the giant red blob crossing my sweater. I’d never be able to get the stain out. Monica and Trey’s muffled voices came from beyond the door, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Quickly, I peeled off my sweater and white tank top. The sugary drink had soaked through and left a giant red mark on my skin. I turned on the water and it hissed before spraying a very small trickle. It would have to do. I couldn’t find a towel, or even toilet paper so I put my shirt under water, letting it soak onto my sleeves and then scrubbed at my stomach, which did nothing more than aggravate my skin. “Ugh.” I gave up and picked up the horrendous donut shirt, slipping it over my head. It was way too big for me and on my five-foot frame it went down to my knees. John Boy had to be over a foot taller than me, like 6’5” and built. Very built. I shook my head, trying to get the thoughts of him out. He wasn’t really interested in me. Sure, I probably wouldn’t have any problem getting a quick lay out of him, but that wasn’t what I wanted. At least I didn’t think I did.


So...anyone else excited to read more John Boy. You got the first five pages because I had 300 adds on GoodReads. Get me to 400 adds and I'll post the next five pages.

Add it to GoodReads!

Letters to Nowhere by Julie Cross: Blog Tour

 

Author: Julie Cross

Title: Letters To Nowhere

Pages: 360

Publication Date: August 1^st 2013

Publisher: Julie Cross

Genre: Mature Young Adult Contemporary

 

Synopsis

 

Her family may be shattered, but her dreams aren't...

 

From the International Bestselling Author of the Tempest series

 

A Mature YA contemporary set in the tough world of Elite Gymnastics. Grief, love and pursuing dreams are at the forefront of this emotionally powerful coming-of-age story.

 

Seventeen year old Karen Campbell has just lost both her parents in a tragic car accident. Grief stricken and alone, her gymnastics coach opens his home to Karen, providing her a place to live while she continues to train, working toward a spot on the world championship team.

 

Coach Bentley’s only child, seventeen year old Jordan is good-looking and charming enough to scare away a girl like Karen—someone who has spent ten times more hours on balance beams and uneven bars than talking or even thinking about boys. But the two teens share a special connection almost immediately. It turns out Jordan has a tragic past of his own, grief buried for years.

 

As Karen’s gymnastics career soars, her nightmares and visions of the horrible accident grow in strength. She can only avoid facing her grief for so long before it begins to surface and ultimately spin out of control in a very dangerous way. Can discovering love and lust (simultaneously) help with the grieving process or will it only provide a temporary distraction while waiting for reality to hit full force.

Excerpt:

And Jordan could be this whole person lying beside me and pushing my shirt up higher, kissing my stomach and laying his cheek against it. I didn’t even know there were so many body parts that could be kissed and we were still working above the waist.

“Still planning on helping me with my paper?” I asked, in between kisses.

“Damn, I forgot. We should go soon.” He scooted away from me and lay flat on his stomach, pressing his face into the blanket. “Just give me a minute . . . or five.”

I laughed at him before sitting up. At times like this, I was more than grateful to be a girl and not have to hide the fact that I was turned on.

“What’s your technique?” I pulled my sweatshirt over my head and sat cross-legged on the blanket.

“What technique?”

“You know, like Finn on Glee. He always thinks about the mailman hitting his windshield.”  

He laughed into the blanket. “First off, I don’t watch Glee so I have no idea who Finn is, and right now I’m thinking about Mrs. Garrett in her nightgown.”

“Is it working?”

            He turned his head to the side and smiled at me. “It might if you would stop talking.”

            I mimed zipping my lips and sat perfectly still until Jordan finally pulled himself up off the blanket. I folded it neatly and held it to my chest. “So . . . ?” I prompted him.

            “So . . . what?”

            I turned my back to him, heading toward the car. “Was I right? About the size difference?”

            Jordan hooked an arm around my waist and lifted me off the ground. He spun around a few times. “Is it even possible for you to get dizzy anymore? All those giant swings around the bars . . .”

            He set me down and tried to kiss me, but I leaned back and lifted my eyebrows.

            “Fine,” he said with a sigh. “You were right, the left one is smaller.”

            I kissed him before climbing into the passenger seat. “Thanks for being honest,” I said once he had gotten in the car, too.   

            “Now you’re not going to let me see anything, are you?”

            I shrugged. “I’m not sure yet.”

            “Let me know whenever you decide.”

 

 

Author Bio

 

I live in central Illinois with my wonderful husband and three kids currently between the ages of 7 and 12 (the kids not the husband). My writing journey began in May, 2009 with a short story in a notebook.

 

Within a year, I had written seven (some good some God-awful) young adult novels. Not being a college graduate and having spent the previous fifteen years teaching gymnastics and working as a YMCA Program Director for Recreational Gymnastics, professional writing wasn't in my plans. Not even close. But ever since the day I started that short story, I haven't been able to stop. It was love at first sight.

 

After about a year of writing, I had a three book deal with St. Martin's Press, and a film option with Summit Entertainment. Crazy, right? I know. It wasn't until August of 2011 that I quit working full time in order to be at home with my kids more and of course, write more. My young adult time travel debut novel, Tempest, released on January 17, 2012. The rest of my personal story remains unwritten.

Links:

Website:  http://www.juliecrossbooks.com/
Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/FansOfJulieCross?fref=ts
Twitter:  https://twitter.com/Juliecross1980
Goodreads:  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3429117.Julie_Cross
Goodreads Letters To Nowhere: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/18046135-letters-to-nowhere

 

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