Author: Lisa Terry
Release Date: 24 March 2017
Goodreads | Amazon
Most of the south Carolinians who hate 17 year old Jessa Pierce do so in the open, but one of those haters, bent on revenge against Jessa and her boyfriend, pulls the strings from behind a curtain. Figuring out if this revenge has anything to do with her parents’ mysterious deaths is more than Jessa can comprehend. Believe it or not, she has bigger, more immediate problems.
Jessa and her step-brother have to find a way to keep their little sister happy since their new guardian doesn’t seem interested in the three of them. When the little sister’s need for stability leads Jessa to a new profession, she realizes happiness for herself is an impossibility and love is just as elusive.
~ Teaser ~
Chapter 1 (small part)
Whoosh. My whole body jolts, and I grind my teeth to hold back a stupid little-girl scream. Slowly dragging my eyes from the tiny airplane window, I look to my side expecting to see the face of the overly helpful (and really aggravating) flight attendant. Not even. Sitting in the seat, his leg almost touching mine is a boy, maybe closer to a man, and he puts his finger to his full lips.
Brown eyes dance with amusement until they lock on mine. I crack my mouth open before his desire attacks my nose.
“That’s not your seat.” My voice is raspy like I haven’t talked to anyone in a while. I haven’t.
He raises his black eyebrows, a scar cuts through the one on the right, and he swoops his brown waves off his forehead. “Well, I know we were supposed to switch seats at the beginning of the flight if we were going to, but how was I supposed to know my neighbor would be a snorer and an armrest hogger?”
“I reserved that seat,” I whisper. If JJ would’ve sent the company plane after me, this wouldn’t be necessary. Isn’t our island big enough for first-class seating planes now?
“You like your space, huh?” He smiles a smile that’s probably supposed to charm me right out of my pants.
It’s not about the space. I just like to inhale clean air, not an aggravating boy’s desires. “You’re not supposed to sit there.”
“But you won’t rat me out.” He relaxes his arm on the armrest and nods. “Nice.”
After a glance around the other seats, it’s obvious he’s safe from anyone else caring too. Most people are passed out since it’s a late-night flight. My eyes lock on the seat in front of me, its blue and gold weave looking like someone puked blueberries and eggs.
What would he do if I yelled? Nope, I don’t have the nerve. But he doesn’t know that. Fighting a smile, I fling my mouth open.
His eyes double in size before he clamps his hand over my mouth. “Don’t.”
With my head jammed against the headrest, I have to stretch my eyeballs to the max to see him. And almost crack up at his face. His oh-shit-what-have-I-done face. But I didn’t get a good breath before, and now I have to inhale through my nose: I want to stay here. I want to get to know this girl and find out why she isn’t happy.
I reach up and snatch his hand away. “I am happy.”
“Whoa…pretty defensive. Wait, I didn’t say you weren’t.”
Holy crap. Holy crap. Holy crap, I’m a moron. “Go away,” I whisper.
“Tell me how you knew that.”
When I don’t answer he sighs. “Okay, then tell me why you’re not happy.”
I could answer him. And then this nosy boy could laugh and move on. But I’m not brave enough to shout my angst to the world. Can there be anyone on this earth more pitiful than me?
“Perfectly happy.” My problems have very easy solutions according to Professor Renard. I could have sex with the nearest asshole—you’d love that wouldn’t you, Renard? Get a little bit of the sultry eye?
I have two months to figure “sexy” out or I’m out. Will Mother find somewhere else to stick me, or will she insist I stay home? Excuse me, Mother, while I gag constantly over your stupid, petty desires.
Suppressing a yawn, I try to ignore my seat thief and stare out the window again.
“I’m going to be out there one day,” comes his gruff voice from behind me. His pullover almost touches my cheek when he points out the window. “It’s where I belong.”
“Belong?” I’ve never felt like I belonged here either. How could I? But a freak like me, inhaling people’s desires instead of smells, doesn’t belong anywhere.
“Yup.” His lips pop on the P.
He’s got to be screwing with me. That or somehow he’s contracted my “ability.” I eye him, but there’s no hint of a smile on his face. I shut my mouth and chance a tiny breath: I can’t wait to get my degree and pilot’s license and then on to Astronaut Corps. I want to get to know this girl.
Oh, an astronaut. But what’s up with this getting to know me stuff? He just wants to get to know me? Weird. “Are you gay?”
My face heats up to an astronomical temperature. Why can’t I just be smart?
Why? Good question. Like, why couldn’t my freak ability be something helpful like super-intelligence so I wouldn’t ask stupid, embarrassing questions? Or what about something my modeling professors would love—owning my beauty. The cherry on top of my confidence sundae would be not breaking out in hives when a photographer mentions the word sexy. “Nothing.”
“Do I match too well or something?” He tugs at his navy blue pullover.
“No,” I say with a smile.
Finally what? Did I do something? “What?”
He grins at me. “A smile. You looked almost normal for a second.”
That’s me, the exotic blonde beauty…normal would be nice. And Professor Renard thinks my looks are a good thing.
“You’re going to get an early wrinkle,” he says. He runs his finger down the center of my forehead to the top of my nose. I freaking let him. And I have no idea why.
Yes, I do! I need sexy…sultry. Experience to draw from so I’ll photograph better. Yeah, that’s gonna work—we’ll just bump uglies right on the plane.
But a kiss….
I swivel my eyes toward him to get a secret eyeful. His brown hair is wavy, almost curly. It’s the kind that looks soft and silky and very finger-runable. Kinda like a little boy’s. His eyes are brown. Just normal brown, but they’re soft and happy. Below them his face angles to a point, though his jaw line is squared.
Slowly I bring my eyes back to my ugly seat. I clench my teeth; my face heats up again.
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~ Review ~
I got the book for free in exchage for a review as part of promotions for KC Book Promotions Thus all thuoghts here are my own and are not anyway plagiarized from anyone!
Recently, I haven’t been posting a lot of reviews or promotions, and when I got the sign up link for this book I got intrigued! The cover and the summary piqued my interest and as normally this is not my usual literature, I still gave it a go. I was immediately caught in the book by Lisa’s writing. She truly has a great writing style, combing character development, bit of humor and suspense was just what I needed to fuel me to keep on reading!
Meet Jessa and exceptionally interesting character to base a book on. What makes her so good? That’s for you to find out!
~ About the Author ~
Lisa Terry lives in the South riding the state lines of Florida and Alabama. She has enough animals to call it a small farm, so she’s either insane or caring. Or insanely caring. She’s a print news reporter, and editor, and an aspiring Hogwarts student. On any given day, you can find Lisa playing video day, you can find Lisa playing video games, sitting on the beach or organizing per pagents. She gave up on fitting in a long time ago and now is fine with being called a walking contradiction. Lisa writes Young Adult and New Adult: contemporary, thriller, mystery, horror and paranormal.
You can find more about her @
Website | Goodreads | Facebook
~ Other Books by this Author ~
Release Date: 10 Jan 2015
Goodreads | Amazon | Barnes & Noble
They’re dying to be fans,
Scottish rocker Julian McLane lives as normally as possible. But fame can be lonely, which might be why he’d spent a year looking for a girl he caught making a wish behind the concert arena. his fans aren’t happy to share him now that he has found Emilie – too bad their violent dispeleasure only puches the couple together.
Emilie needs protection from rabid fans, so Julian convinces her to tour with him and his prank-loving bandmates so his security team can wath over her too. Julian thinks tehir coupledom is as right as a long song. But something’s very wrong about murder victims wearing the band’s concert bracelets. Someone seems intent on downsizing the fandom.
Julian holds a twisted mess of clues about the killer’s identity, with every day bringing a different theory, and he’s beginning to think finding the killer means losing Emilie forever.