Thursday, July 31, 2014

Before You Blog Tour - Interview With Amber Hart

Some say love is deadly. Some say love is beautiful. I say it is both.

Faith Watters spent her junior year traveling the world, studying in exquisite places, before returning to Oviedo High School. From the outside her life is picture-perfect. Captain of the dance team. Popular. Happy. Too bad it’s all a lie.

It will haunt me. It will claim me. It will shatter me. And I don't care.

Eighteen-year-old Diego Alvarez hates his new life in the States, but staying in Cuba is not an option. Covered in tattoos and scars, Diego doesn't stand a chance of fitting in. Nor does he want to. His only concern is staying hidden from his past—a past, which if it were to surface, would cost him everything. Including his life.

At Oviedo High School, it seems that Faith Watters and Diego Alvarez do not belong together. But fate is as tricky as it is lovely. Freedom with no restraint is what they long for. What they get is something different entirely.

Love—it will ruin you and save you, both.

Links for BEFORE YOU 


Author Interview!

Hi Amber! Welcome to Part of that World

Hi!! *waves* Thanks for having me on the blog!  

Where did the idea for this story come from?
I grew up in very diverse cities (central FL and Atlanta, GA), where I saw many cultures. It made me think: what would happen if two worlds combined? Different backgrounds, different customs, different languages. The seed of an idea for BEFORE YOU was born of this thought. 

Can you describe Before You in a tweet? 
BEFORE YOU is an edgy contemp YA romance set in Central Florida, about the forbidden love between a "good girl" with a secret past, and a Cuban boy on the run from his own demons.

Was it hard for you to write in dual POVs and still make the characters’ voices distinctive enough for readers to tell them apart?
Truthfully, I was a little concerned about writing from a male perspective. Would it come off as sounding authentic? Would I capture a male voice? Thankfully, I grew up with my Dad and brother, so I was pretty much always surrounded by guys, and that helped me channel a natural sound. Faith's perspective felt very organic to me, so that wasn't as worrisome.  

Who was easier to write—Faith or Diego?
Faith, I think. Though Diego was maybe more fun :) Mostly because I'm a girl and writing from a guy's perspective was different. To get into that mindset was interesting.   

Were any of your characters based off real people or anything in your plot based on real-life situations?
 I have a real life Diego--accent, spanish language, passionate--definitely inspirational. 
 And parts of the plot were real, yes. I lost my mother to her drug addiction on year ago. The pain of that is still very real. 

I’ve noticed that your other series also has a couple that will test the boundaries of social norms. Is it important for you that we have diverse books with multiracial couples, and ones that defy society’s strict standards? (I hope this question isn’t offending!) 
This isn't offending at all! I'm glad you asked because I would like to see diversity mentioned more. And not just mentioned, actually, but written about and read in books. I think society's strict standards are not as strict depending on geographical locations and how people were raised. I absolutely think there is a need for more diverse characters so others can see themselves in books. So that the world can see more beyond their fingertips. It's a cause close to my heart. 

What is your writing process like?
I don't have a norm, but a good day would be caffeine and about 3,000 words. I start with an idea. Sometimes I text myself little sentences if they come to me while I'm out and about. Then I form a storyline in my mind. If it feels compelling enough, if the characters scream at me, if the story demands to be told, I will start to write. I take it chapter by chapter. Outlines are not my friend. 

Can we get a little teaser from After Us?
Sure! *hands you teaser and chocolate and coffee* Enjoy!


The beach is a moving canvas of people.
Cabanas and waves and bathing suits and sand castles all blend together to create a serene picture of life on the coast. The sky is on fire with blues and yellows and oranges. Tiny puffs of clouds like wisps of cream. Sunscreen lotion saturates the air, smelling like SPF and sweat. I squint through the blaring sun and walk toward a crowd of girls lying on their bellies with the strings to their tops undone. Bare backs naked of tan lines.
“Frozen margarita, extra salt,” I say, giving the drink to a girl with blond hair a shade darker than mine.
I balance the tray on one palm. Hand off drinks with another. Like a machine dispensing snacks.
“PiƱa colada.” Next girl. “Sex on the beach.” Next. “Vodka and tonic.” Last. “Rum and coke.
I smile. Compliment one of the girls on her leg tattoo. Girls love compliments. Eat them up like sugar. Delicious sugar that serves to fatten my wallet.
I don’t know these girls. I don’t know most of the people splayed out on the beach like a deck of cards. Ordering alcohol like water, trying any reprieve to cool themselves down from rays that bake them to burnt crisps.
It’s too hot to be alive today. The air is breathing fire all over me. The sun is pressing so hard into my skin that it’s turning red. If I close my eyes, I can imagine my skin melting off like wax. I’m dripping sweat. Body glistening as though I’ve jumped in the water. I haven’t.
“Thanks,” the girl with the leg tattoo says.
One of the girls ties her top and flips over, insistent on showing me her hip tattoos. Two pink bows wrapping up the package of a perfect body.
I remember what it was like to have a perfect body.
“Love it,” I say. And I do.
I can never get a tattoo there.
I don’t wear bikinis anymore. My swimwear is a collection of one-pieces. Covering certain fragments of me that I’m not willing to show. Holding me together. Though admittedly still racy, especially the one I’ve got on today, which hugs me like a glove, fitting my every muscle and curve. It’s white with wavy ruffles like sea foam over the material around my breasts, plumping them up. A simple tie in the back to support the front. A runway of fabric lining my stomach. Nothing but tiny pieces coming together, exposing skin.
My tray is still stacked full of drinks for another group of people. They look like towers. Like a whole miniature city of skyscrapers and small circular buildings crammed together. Drowning in liquid.
I wait for cash.
A quick glance tells me that the five girls have tipped me something close to fifteen bucks. Not bad.
“Enjoy the heat,” I tell them by way of goodbye.
On to the next customer.
All around me, sun tints skin a soft brown, sometimes red. Corners of beach towels flutter in the slight breeze like stingray wings. It hurts to look at the ocean, glittery and reflecting light, a million liquid jewels on display.
I’ve already checked IDs for the five guys waiting for drinks. They’re tall and muscular—with the sort of deliciously ripped bodies that belong in a place like this—each ordering Corona bottlenecks. I hand out beers and accept their cash. Flirt a little. Makes for better tips.
“What are you guys doing out here today?” I ask. Grin.
Nada, mami,” one says in a Latino accent, taking a seat on a lounge chair. The others follow suit. “Just enjoying this weather. Wanna enjoy it with me?”
He pats his lap. Like I’d actually sit on it.
“Can’t,” I say. Wink at him. “Have to work.”
The guy leans forward. Checks me out. I check him out right back. Shaved head, nice lips.
The others check me out too. Except for the one that walks up behind me, joining the group. He sits with his body angled toward the water, dark sunglasses on, hair falling in his face. 
“I’ll have one, too,” he says, still not looking my way.
What is so interesting that you can’t look a person in the eye?
I check the water. Nothing out of the ordinary.
"ID, please,” I say. Nothing personal—can’t serve underage. Even though I’m eighteen and understand. It isn’t worth losing a prime job at the busiest hotel on the beach. A job that pays really well, with customers that tip even better.
He hands it to me, still not looking up. I glance at it. I don’t need to see his full face to know that it’s not him. Looks more like the guy sitting next to him than the guy handing it to me.
“Gonna have to do better than that,” I say.
I need the money that this job provides. With three sisters away at college and Mom working double nursing shifts to support them, I need whatever I can get. Everything we have is already stretched thin. A bubble about to pop.
His rough sigh says he’s not happy with my response. He turns to me. I can see his full face now.
Tick, tick, tock.
Time breaks into a million shards. Tiny slivers of moments. Trapping me. My breath catches. Nerves are a fishhook reeling in any response I could’ve had.
He sees me then. Moves his sunglasses to the top of his head to get a better look. He’s watching, watching, watching…me. Eyes narrow. Unbelieving.
I can’t find enough seconds to understand what’s happening here. I heard he moved away. I’m searching desperately for a breath of fresh air but I can’t find one.
Wavy brown hair that’s almost black. Thick lips that I’ve kissed once before.
I’m staring at tattoos that wrap around his shoulders, hugging him. A hundred different images, all black and white. Photographic. I’m looking at a sun over his left collarbone, the only bit of light shining into the chest piece. Clouds ripple under his neck like waves. His shirt is off and I’m staring too hard, I realize, because his friends start laughing.
It’s a memorial. The piece is to remember someone he lost.
There’s a timbre in his voice that makes my insides gooey. I’m melting ice cream on this hideously hot day. He says my name like it’s painful for him, looking at me with those incredulous eyes. Willing me to say something, anything, but I can’t. I can’t.
I run away instead. My feet propel me forward, fast, churning sand beneath my heels. I don’t care when a shell cuts the underside of my foot. Or when tiny grains of sea bottom become a natural Band-Aid.
I need to breathe.
I hate that he is here right now.
I love that I’ve been given another chance to see his face.
“Wait,” he calls from behind me.
I won’t stop.
Fast, fast, faster.
He won’t stop.
Just go, just go, just go.
I’m not quick enough.
“Wait,” he says again, grabbing my arm lightly.
Five fingers that burn memories into my skin.
I turn to the sound of his voice.
“Javier,” I say, choking on his name. Choking on the memories.
Me and Faith, my best friend. At this same beach. Months ago.
Javier and his cousin, Diego, in the water. Faith needed to get Diego’s attention. Faith needed Diego in so many ways. I needed to know what Javier’s mouth tasted like. I told myself that it’d be fun.
Love was Faith’s style. Fun was mine.
I try to shut out the memory, doors closing on my past. Can’t.
Javier’s lips were every bit as amazing as I’d thought. Plump and gentle and rough and perfect.
We never did more than that. Never talked about the fun day at the beach. Never pursued what we left behind.
I never told him that I’ve wanted him ever since.
(Copyright 2014 Amber Hart. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any mean without the prior written consent by the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.) 

Thank you so much for stopping by my blog and answering some questions! And congrats on your debut release! :)

Thanks for having me!! And I always love to hear from readers. You can reach me here:

Meet you there?


Author Bio
Amber Hart grew up in Orlando, Florida and Atlanta, Georgia. She now resides on the Florida coastline with family. When unable to find a book, she can be found writing, daydreaming, or with her toes in the sand. She's the author of BEFORE YOU, AFTER US, UNTIL YOU FIND ME, and sequel to UNTIL YOU FIND ME (untitled as of yet). Represented by Beth Miller of Writers House. 

Connect with Amber Hart


Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Storms and Scars: Review of Break the Sky

The Spiral of Bliss series will forever be one of my favorites, and Dean West will always have a special place on my book boyfriend list. I didn't even know that Nina Lane had written another novel until a few weeks before it was set to be published. And when I found out it featured Archer and Kelsey, I knew I had to have it. These two characters were mysteries to me in the series, and I always wanted to know more about them. I couldn't wait to see what two hardheaded, straight-shooting characters would do to and for each other. I couldn't wait to read about them falling in love.

Rating: 4.5 Stormy, Passionate Stars!

I loved Kelsey March in the first three books! I loved her sass and strength, her no-nonsense attitude and her friendships with both Dean and Liv. I loved the unconventional blue streak in her hair and how she always gave good advice. But that's not all Kelsey's about, and I never realized the true depth of her character until this book. She's not built from stone, untouchable and unshakable, like I first thought. She's more breakable than she'd like to admit. Kelsey knows what it's like to chase storms; the thrill and adrenaline, the risk and the high, the danger and excitement. The unknown, the power, and the unpredictable. But she's no longer that risk-taking adrenaline junkie who self-destructed. She's a straight-laced professor who has a carefully constructed plan for her life. And Archer West doesn't fit into that plan. He's as unpredictable as a storm, as dangerous and exciting and powerful. He unlocks the girl she told herself to let go of and pushes her to question what she truly wants. I absolutely loved her character development. I loved how she found that girl again, the one who enjoyed the chase and the thrill of the storms. 

Archer West brought out that storm girl. My heart melted when he called her that, and I lost it to this beautiful, scarred man. The sharp-edged, wholly masculine guy who considered himself a screw-up. Who didn't think he was worth anything. Who didn't think he deserved a second chance. Who never knew what love could be like until he met Kelsey. He thought an arrangement would work for them, but I think he was the one who fell first, hard and fast and irreversible. He was so much more than he first appeared. He doesn't appear to be a nice guy, someone who is bluntly honest with sharp-edged words and who hasn't done anything good with his life. But he's trying. For a little while, I felt like his character development was being overshadowed. Now, I kind of understand why. I think Kelsey had the most to work through, the most to change. And through helping her, being there for her, he helped himself. He started to crave the way she made him feel and the way she made him want to be the best kind of man. He had to work through a rough past, had to show her some ugly scars. But he beat all of that, with sheer determination and strength. And he used that to give Kelsey what she never knew she needed.
"You need peace and you need storms."
Archer challenged Kelsey and made her feel alive and breathless, lost in a storm that they created on their own. And Kelsey refused to let him believe that he was nothing more than a recovering drug addict who didn't graduate high school and who had no prospects in life. I loved everything about their relationship; the passion and fire, the teasing and arguments, the chemistry and romance. The way they held onto each other through the worst, and the way they pushed each other to overcome their obstacles. They brought out the best in each other.
"We're not so good together because we're different, storm girl. We're not night and day or sun and rain. We're so damn good together because we're the same. And you'll never belong to anyone else. Ever. Neither will I."
I loved the cameos with Dean, Liv, and Nicholas. I was hoping for a bit more interactions between Archer and Dean, but I knew their relationship was going to take work and time to mend. It wouldn't all be magically fixed because Archer helped them out and stayed longer than he meant to. They have thirty years of anger and pain to work through.

My heart was put through the ringer throughout this novel. I cursed, I cried, I cheered. I surrendered to the story and these characters and their perfect love. I got caught up in the passion and fire they created. Break the Sky was phenomenal; a wonderfully written romantic story about two characters who pushed each other to the limits and who loved chasing storms

Favorite Quote:
"He said the sky was still blue no matter where you were or what happened. Even if it was raining... behind the clouds, the sky was blue."

Waiting on Wednesday #20

"Waiting On" Wednesday is a weekly event hosted by Breaking the Spine that spotlights upcoming releases that we're eagerly anticipating. 

This week I'm waiting on Princess of Thorns by Stacey Jay!
Expected publication date: December 9th, 2014!

Game of Thrones meets the Grimm's fairy tales in this twisted, fast-paced romantic fantasy-adventure about Sleeping Beauty's daughter, a warrior princess who must fight to reclaim her throne.

Though she looks like a mere mortal, Princess Aurora is a fairy blessed with enhanced strength, bravery, and mercy yet cursed to destroy the free will of any male who kisses her. Disguised as a boy, she enlists the help of the handsome but also cursed Prince Niklaas to fight legions of evil and free her brother from the ogre queen who stole Aurora's throne ten years ago.

Will Aurora triumph over evil and reach her brother before it's too late? Can Aurora and Niklaas break the curses that will otherwise forever keep them from finding their one true love?


Why am I waiting for this book?

I love books that reimagine the fairytales, and I adored Of Beast and Beauty by this same author! I can't wait to see what kinds of twists and spins she put on the classic story of Sleeping Beauty and Princess Aurora.
But can I just say, not a total fan of that cover..

So, what book are you excited about reading? As always, leave me a link! :)

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Release Day Blitz: Before You by Amber Hart


Before You revised


Some say love is deadly. Some say love is beautiful. I say it is both.

Faith Watters spent her junior year traveling the world, studying in exquisite places, before returning to Oviedo High School. From the outside her life is picture-perfect. Captain of the dance team. Popular. Happy. Too bad it’s all a lie.

It will haunt me. It will claim me. It will shatter me. And I don't care.

Eighteen-year-old Diego Alvarez hates his new life in the States, but staying in Cuba is not an option. Covered in tattoos and scars, Diego doesn't stand a chance of fitting in. Nor does he want to. His only concern is staying hidden from his past—a past, which if it were to surface, would cost him everything. Including his life.

At Oviedo High School, it seems that Faith Watters and Diego Alvarez do not belong together. But fate is as tricky as it is lovely. Freedom with no restraint is what they long for. What they get is something different entirely.

Love—it will ruin you and save you, both.



“Hi, I’m Faith Watters.”
Those are the first words I speak to the new Cuban guy in the front office. He grimaces. He’ll be a tough one. I can handle it, though. He’s not the first.
I can’t help but notice that he looks a lot like a model from the neck up—eyes the color of oak, strong bone structure. Everywhere else, he looks a lot like a criminal. Chiseled, scarred body … I wonder for a second about the meaning behind the tattoos scratched into his arms.
One thing’s clear. He’s dangerous.
And he’s beautiful.
“I’ll show you to your classes,” I announce.
I’m one of the peer helpers at our school. It’s not my favorite thing to do, but it counts as a class. Basically I spend the first two days with new students, introducing them around and answering their questions. Some parents with kids new to the school voluntarily sign their students up, but it’s only mandatory for the international students, of which we have a lot. Mostly Latinos.
            This Cuban guy towers over me. I’m five six. Not tall. Not short. Just average. Average is good.
This guy’s not average. Not even a little bit. He must be over six feet.
            I glance up at him, kind of like I do when I’m searching for the moon in a sea of darkness.
“Looks like you have math first. I’ll walk you there,” I offer.
            “No thanks, chica. I can handle it.”
            “It’s no problem,” I say, leading the way.
            He tries to snatch his schedule from my hands, but I move too fast.
            “Why don’t we start with your name?” I suggest.
            I already know his name. Plus some. Diego Alvarez. Eighteen years old. Moved from Cuba two weeks ago. Only child. No previous school records. I read it in his bio. I want to hear him say it.
            “You got some kinda control issues or somethin’?” he asks harshly, voice slightly accented.
            “You got some kind of social issues or somethin’?” I fire back, holding my stance. I won’t let him intimidate me, though I’ll admit, he’s hot. Too bad he has a nasty attitude.
            The side of his lip twitches. “No. I just don’t mix with your type,” he answers.
            “My type?”
            “That’s what I said.”
            “You don’t even know my type.” No one does. Well, except Melissa.
            He chuckles humorlessly. “Sure I do. Head cheerleader? Date the football player? Daddy’s little girl who gets everything she wants?” He leans closer to whisper. “Probably a virgin.”
            My cheeks burn hot. “I’m not a cheerleader,” I say through clamped teeth.
            “Whatever,” he says. “Are you gonna give me my schedule or not?”
            “Not,” I answer. “But you can feel free to follow me to your first class.”
            He steps in front of me, intimately close. “Listen, chica, nobody tells me what to do.”
            I shrug. “Fine, suit yourself. It’s your life. But if you want to attend this school, it’s mandatory for me to show you to your classes for two days.”
            His eyes narrow. “Who says I want to attend this school?”
            I take the last step toward him, closing the gap between us. When we were little, Melissa and I used to collect glass bottles. Whenever we accumulated twenty, we’d break them on the concrete. When the glass shattered, the slivered pieces made a breathtaking prism of light.

I cut myself on the glass by accident once. It was painful, but worth it. The beauty was worth it. It’s funny how the bottle was never as beautiful as when it was broken. 


Amber Hart grew up in Orlando, Florida and Atlanta, Georgia. She now resides on the Florida coastline with family. When unable to find a book, she can be found writing, daydreaming, or with her toes in the sand. She's the author of BEFORE YOU, AFTER US, UNTIL YOU FIND ME, and sequel to UNTIL YOU FIND ME (untitled as of yet). Represented by Beth Miller of Writers House. 

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(8) Top Ten Authors I Own The Most Books From

Top Ten Tuesday is a weekly meme hosted by The Broke and the Bookish.

This week's theme: Authors I Own The Most Books From


I'm quite unsure if I'll even have a top ten for this, so we'll see! But this means I'll have to go searching through all of the stacks in my room and count books. An impossible task, to be sure. But oh boy, here we go! :)

1. Nora Roberts
My all-time favorite author! I have so many of her books, and I haven't even read half of them. But at least I have them for when I go without an NR book for too long.

2. Carla Neggers
I love her romantic suspense books so much! And I'm loving her contemporary ones even more; a splash of mystery combined with wonderful characters and sweet romance.

3. Heather Graham
Her paranormal stories are some of the best! And I love how they intertwine with mystery and romance. Plus, I always love her ghosts.

4. Lemony Snicket
I loooove the A Series of Unfortunate Events books, so my mom got me the whole set for Christmas. :)

5. Colleen Hoover
She's one of my auto-buy authors, and I have every single one of her books (even pre-ordered Ugly Love). Love me some CoHo!

6. Janet Evanovich
Okay, so I was a huge fan of her Stephanie Plum series, until it got into the high teens. Seriously, 21 of them?! TOO MUCH. Also, Team Morelli forever.

7. Jennifer Armentrout
It's kind of hilarious that JLA is on my list, because I've actually only finished ONE of her books after DNFing two of them! Three times must have been the charm, because I loved White Hot Kiss.

8. Jessica Sorensen
^--Same with the above! I have so many JS books, but I've only read The Coincidence of Callie & Kayden, which I absolutely loved. Must read more of hers.

9. Jillian Hart
Have any of you ever read a Love Inspired book? Well, I have a shit ton of them, and I've probably read over 80. And I *think* she's the most popular author of those on my shelves.

10. Nicholas Sparks
Yup. I pretty much have all of his books (save for the newer ones). But the only one I've actually finished is Message in a Bottle, which I loved! 

Oh hey, look, I made it to ten! To be honest, I barely went through my stacks of books. So, these are kind of guesstimates (aside from Nora, Carla, and Heather). Haha.


Which authors grace your shelves the most? Leave me a link so I can stop by! :)

Also, I wanted to take a quick moment to tell you that I'm looking for bloggers and authors who are interested in participating in a two-day post I'm writing about YA. I'd ask you just a simple question about what the genre means to you. If you're intrigued, let me know in the comments below and leave me your email! :)

Monday, July 28, 2014

Taste by Cambria Hebert Blog Tour

Title: Taste
Series: Take It Off #9
Author: Cambria Hebert
Genre: Adult, Romance, and Suspense
Release Date: July 25, 2014

One taste is never enough…

Spencer Waller’s main purpose in life is to protect and serve. After spending years in the military, he gets a coveted spot on the Secret Service detail protecting the president. Spence doesn’t have time for women or all the work having a relationship with one requires. But just because he isn’t looking for a lady doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate a beautiful one when he sees her. 

And he makes it a point to see one in particular every single day.

Elle Bond has literally chopped and fried her way to the top of the food chain. Earning a coveted position in the White House as the president’s personal chef, she figures her professional life can only get better. Her personal life, on the other hand, could use a little bit of an overhaul, and because of that, she tries to ignore the charm-dripping cookie thief every time he comes into her kitchen. After all, she knows better than anyone that just one taste of something good is never enough.

One night after work, Elle is assaulted, threatened, and given an ultimatum. She can’t go to the police, and she sure as hell can’t do what she was ordered. 

But she has to. Or else.

Pale, shaken, and scared to death, Elle confides in Spence, and his protective instincts take over. Together, Elle and Spencer have to uncover a sinister plot and stop it before someone ends up dead.



From this close I could see the scruff growing in on his jaw area, it was dark blond too and made him look totally delicious.
Holding my shirt up with one hand he reached out with the other, gliding his fingers across my stomach, just below my ribcage. “Here?” he whispered, staring at the area.
I nodded, not bothering to glance down. The skin stung lightly as he caressed it. I didn’t care. Frankly, it could hurt like hell and I still would have let him touch it. Desire suffused my limbs, making them heavy. I felt goose bumps break out over my bare skin, and maybe I should have been embarrassed at my reaction because really there wasn’t anything sexual to what he was doing but my body sure as well acted like there was.
He frowned a little when my muscled trembled beneath him and glanced up. “Does it hurt?”
I shook my head, unable to speak.
“It’s just red. No blisters,” he answered, not looking back down at the “burn” but not pulling his fingers away either. Spencer watched me as he dragged the tops of his knuckles down the curve of my waist and moved across my navel.
“You burned anywhere else?” he rumbled in a low, throaty tone.
Man, I wish I was. I wished I could point out a thousand injuries just to give him a reason to not lift his hand.
“No,” I whispered.
He glided his hand over my hip and curved his palm around the dip in my waist, tugging me just a little bit closer. Just one step… that’s all I needed to take to bring my bare waist up against his body.
I tilted my head back when he bent, lowering his face toward mine. I anticipated his kiss, I craved it… part of me thought I might need it.
He stopped just inches away, his heavy lidded eyes spearing mine. “Nice drawers,” he whispered.
It took me a second to realize what he said, I was too far under his spell.
But when his lips turned up in an onery smirk his words penetrated my lust laden brain I gasped and leaped back, pulling my shirt from his hand and yanking it down over my “drawers”.
“Oh my God!” I burst out. “You are such a pig!”
He laughed. “What? I was paying you a compliment.”
I groaned, still yanking at the hem of my shirt. “You’re making fun of me!” I challenged.
He laid a hand over his heart and looked at me solemnly. “I do swear that no one wears polka dots like you do.”
I. Was. Going. To. Die. Of embarrassment. 



Author Bio
Cambria Hebert is the author of the young adult paranormal Heven and Hell series, the new adult Death Escorts series, and the new adult Take it Off series. She loves a caramel latte, hates math and is afraid of chickens (yes, chickens). She went to college for a bachelor’s degree, couldn’t pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair. She currently lives in North Carolina with her husband and children (both human and furry) where she is plotting her next book. You can find out more about Cambria and her work by visiting

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