TITLE – Loving Lexi SERIES – The Lexi Series AUTHOR – Lisa Survillas GENRE – New Adult PUBLICATION DATE – January 16, 2016 LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 246 pages PUBLISHER – Lisa Survillas COVER ARTIST – Robin Harper with Wicked by Design
BOOK SYNOPSIS
Lexi
Reliving my past.
Confronting my mother.
Finding my family.
The summer before my senior year is a roller coaster of emotions, but I make it. I come out on the other side, stronger and ready to face my last year of San Francisco State University, when life takes another direction. The rock I’ve come to count on disappears emotionally and leaves me reeling. Will we find our way, or will I be lost and alone again?
Derek
Watching her pain.
Lifting her up.
Loving her strength.
The summer before my senior year is better than I could’ve imagined. Her strength knows no bounds and is truly inspiring to everyone around her. Then the phone call from my past comes and knocks me off my feet. Unable to look at her while dealing with this, I hide, like a coward. Will I get over this moment from my past, or will it drive a permanent wedge between us?
REVIEW
Amazon rating: 3/5
In Patti's Imagination: 7/10
I haven't read the first book, nor had I realized this was a second book in a series with the previous book being a cliffhanger. I know some people love them but I don't. So reading it was hard without the previous knowledge. But the author provided some input on the book and what happened.
As the story progressed I was okay with not reading the first book, but I noticed the author constantly repeating herself. There was always some reassurance Lexi needed that Derek provided, there was always some issue of trust they needed to take care of, there was always thinking of what happened and barely any steps were made for the future. While I enjoyed seeing her get a little out of her shell, the constant repeated conversation was quite unimportant to me. If the author gave us something more other then the same conversation over and over again I would have probably liked the book more.
I came to the end and there were some issues which you will learn about Derek. And I think for once I liked that there was something besides her in the story. And the end came with another cliffhanger. I didn't hate the book but I wish it wasn't a cliffy, or that it at least had something more to it.
“You don’t know how happy it makes me to leave here with no reason to look back. Knowing I left everything behind feels like I’ve lifted a huge weight off of my shoulders. I feel so much lighter, like I can breathe freely again. The clamp around my lungs is gone.”
In that moment, the joy on her face touches me in a way I can’t even explain, and I can’t help but pick her up and twirl her around, sharing in her excitement. I hope the expression on her face is here to stay. My stomach has been in knots for days wondering what she would have to deal with here, but this ending is more than I could’ve ever imagined.
AUTHOR BIO
Hi! I'm Lisa. I live in SUNNY SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA with my wonderful husband and two teenage children. With two kids in high school and involved in activities both inside and outside of school, I have a lot to juggle. When home, I lock myself inside the office to write. I've always loved to write, but life always seemed to be too busy.
When inspiration finally hit, I made the most of the time hubby and kids were busy and published my first book in February 2014. I've published a total of 4 books in the past year and am hoping to bring you a few more before 2015 ends.
Being someone’s first love is unforgettable. Being their last is immeasurable.
Claire Peters should be on top of the world. She owns the radio waves and has a budding movie career. But her heart longs to be rooted. Ten years ago, she fled Martha's Vineyard to pursue her dream and to make something of herself. But there’s still a void. After a decade of running, she returns to the island hoping to find her happiness with the man she’s loved all her life.
When a tragic event shatters Dr. Forrest Desvareaux’ well-balanced world, the Vineyard’s hometown good guy discovers everything in his life is based on lies. Angry and betrayed, he turns to Claire - the one woman who has indelibly marked him.
Is it possible to run back to the person who broke you? Forever linked, Forrest and Claire are an unending continuum. But she’s a wildflower and Forrest’s roots run deep on the Vineyard. Can they accept home is not a place but a feeling.
CHAPTER ONE
“One of the hardest things in life is
having words in your heart that you can’t utter.”
James Earl Jones
Vineyard
Haven, Martha’s Vineyard, thirteen years ago…
Claire ran her tongue over her lips, checking
their current state. A soft, smooth, and slightly-moist mouth was
ideal for kissing. Hers didn’t feel chapped or dry, but to be on
the safe side, she swiped the shea butter pomegranate chapstick over
her lips, pressed them together then blew into her hands for a breath
check.
Minty fresh.
Perfect.
The girls she knew were experts in the art of
kissing. It embarrassed her to admit at fifteen, she hadn’t kissed
anyone. But they didn't pass judgment. Rather, her friends had given
her pointers and informed her fresh breath was essential for a French
kiss. For that reason, she managed to avoid garlic, onions, milk, and
her favorite, corn. The tasty grain was on the Cosmopolitan
list of “What Not to Eat” before a kiss. Last thing she wanted
was Forrest pushing her away because of corn residue in her mouth.
Her gaze swept over Herring Creek Farm. The
August sun shone on green everywhere. The edge of woodland sloped
down gently to a bramble-filled ditch, overgrown with cow parsley.
Beech trees lined the fence to the north, their overhanging boughs
provided dapple shade for the horses that stood idle, flicking away
flies with their tails. Chirping birds and humming bees filled the
air with the sounds of their daily duties.
Male laughter rose as Jason, Adam, and Blake
tossed a football between them in the yard. They rarely let her
wander away from their view, not that she had a wild streak or
anything, but they were Alphas and they hovered. Always uncertain of
what the band of brothers might throw at her, she didn’t dare get
too close to the boys. They loved to throw questions at her or worse,
ask her to participate in their football tossing game, just so they
could play the big brother role.
Big brothers tended to be overbearing.
Phooey! She wasn’t even related to any of
them.
Her gaze swiveled to Forrest. He stood not too
far away in cargo Khakis and a fading Transformers T-shirt, throwing
tennis balls to his father’s two black Labs.
Warmth spread inside her chest, a sensation
that was now synonymous with Forrest. The sight of him held an
intriguing allure. Tall, athletic, with tousled dark brown hair that
flopped over his eyes. Woven leather bracelets encircled his left
wrist, drawing attention to the lean, hard muscles of his arms. All
that football and skiing had done wonders for his amazing frame. His
face wasn’t too shabby either–sharp, angled jaw, full, firm lips
that curved into a proud yet pleasant smile, and a nose that was just
a little too big. The slight imperfection only made him more
appealing.
Women often stopped in their tracks and stared
at him. Claire noticed the admirers every time, but Forrest seemed
oblivious to the sudden pauses and clandestine stares. When he did
bestow them with a glance, his fans overcompensated with a weak smile
or a blush, a dead giveaway of their admiration. He always took it in
stride, never flaunted, and without a trace of arrogance. He was
modest and unaware of the chaos he caused, this made the girls fall
for him all the more.
According to
the few conversations she overheard between Jason and the others,
teenage boys were horny all the time. They thought about sex every
second of the day. If the wind hit them just right, they would get
excited.
Not Forrest.
He thought with the head on his shoulders, not
the one south of his waist. He was different that way and stood apart
from the others. Despite the
opportunities that came his way, he dated very little. She once
overheard him telling the other guys he was a one-woman man who
prized genuineness and thoughtful conversation above lipstick and
high heels.
He was handsome, breathtaking. Her racing pulse
and breathlessness proved it. However, what she really loved about
him was his inner beauty. From the way he cared for the animals on
the farm, to his warmth with everyone on the island, and his
commitment to his family and friends. He was eighteen–if a day
older–and he stole her heart without even knowing it was in his
pocket.
For the last two years, these new and strange
feelings often left her befuddled. They were too strong, too intense.
Physically and mentally, she reacted to him in a way she never had
with any boy. The slightest touch, whether it was tugging on her hair
or fixing her backpack, sent her heart spiraling out of control. On
days they weren’t around each other, she missed him. When she saw
him, heard his name, happiness filled her. At night, his face was
always the last thing she’d see; her stomach would backflip and
she’d tingle all over before drifting into a dream where they held
hands and kissed.
Now in a few days he’d leave the island and
head to Boston for college. Her heart screeched in anguish, its flesh
lay bare in the raucous collision between reality and fantasy.
She had to kiss him. And for that she needed
complete privacy.
She studied the stoned-faced, two story red
barn with an old, worn-down tractor collecting dust next to it. She
glanced at the boys, still lost in whatever they were talking about.
Probably all the college girls they would be meeting when they
arrived on campus. Which meant Forrest would be meeting college
girls, too-knowledgeable, sophisticated girls living away from their
parents, who no doubt would be on him as quick as lightning.
Panic set in. Fear. Her chance with Forrest was
slipping through her fingers. She needed to kiss him and let him feel
everything in her heart.
Here goes nothing.
Stealthily she moved around the farm and hauled
open the unwieldy door, tired hinges creaking like a testy old man.
She paused and waited for one of the boys to call after her. When
they didn’t, she rushed inside, closed the door behind her, and
sucked in a deep breath, calming her nerves. A puff of the
sweet, musty summer's straw odor pressed into her nose.
The barn had recently undergone extensive
renovations by Luc and Marjorie, Forrest’s parents. Old flooring
was removed and replaced with a new tongue and groove floor. Claire
walked passed the stalls with rubber mats and hay racks to the corner
away from the windows...in case the boys peeked around. She dug
inside her second-hand hobo bag for the ripe plum carefully picked
from her mother’s kitchen. Her friends had told her to find a nice
piece of soft fruit that tasted good.
Tilting her head to one side, she bit a
mouth-sized hole into the plum. The taut skin of the fruit was tangy,
a complete contrast to the sweet juice that rolled down the side of
her mouth. With a flick of her tongue at the corner of her lip, she
licked away the sweet nectar.
It was delicious, just like how she’d
imagined Forrest would taste.
She went in for another bite. Her eyes lulled
shut as she drowned in the fantasy of kissing Forrest. She pushed her
tongue into the flesh of the plum a little more and surrendered to
the sheer pleasure of experimenting.
“Claire.”
Startled, she jumped back and almost toppled
over. The plum slipped from her hands onto the ground. Oh.
My. God. Utter humiliation. Forrest
saw her kissing a freakin’ plum. She stood frozen, silently praying
he’d turn and walk out of the barn, instead she listened to his
steps closing in on her until they stood facing each other, barely
inches apart.
He picked up the plum, brushed off the
collected dirt, and examined it for a second or two. His eyebrows
knitted close together. “Were you kissing a plum?”
“No.” She tried to grab the fruit from him,
but the big goof was already six feet tall and built like a
quarterback compared to her small, five-feet-two-inch frame. He
lifted his arm out of her reach.
His gaze searched her face. Claire’s first
reaction was to make a run for it, but then Jason would think one of
his best buds did something to her. Mortified, she lowered her head
and focused on the floor.
“Claire, look at me.” His voice was low,
with a trace of huskiness and authority.
There was no rescue from this embarrassment.
Pure absolute torture. She coughed and pushed her hair back behind
her ear, even though it was already there. He caught her chin and
raised her face, forcing her to look at him. His eyes were gray, not
a dull, unremarkable gray like that of concrete or stone, but a
combination of misty gray and blue like the ocean at dusk. They were
sensual, alluring, and warm. They beckoned her to reveal her deepest
secrets, and to lose herself in their warmth.
“Who is the guy?”
A thick fog dampened her ability to think.
“What?”
“The guy you want to kiss. Your crush.” His
eyes searched her face for answers. “Who is he?”
You. She
wanted to scream. Instead her heart tripped and stalled.
“Claire, who’s the guy?” His voice racked
her brain as she scrambled for a name of any fifteen-year-old boy
from her class. But they lived on an island where everyone knew
everyone’s business. If she was brave enough to lie—for the
record she wasn’t—the boy would have to live his life in fear
with her four protectors breathing down his throat.
“I don’t have a crush.”
He smiled. “So I didn’t just catch you
making out with a plum?”
She turned hastily and tried to run off, but
mortification followed. Forrest stepped in front of her, blocking her
escape.
“Have you kissed your crush?”
“No.” She tried to walk past him. He inched
closer to the door. “I need to go,” she said and hoped she
sounded annoyed and angry. Unfazed, he made no attempt to move.
“Have you kissed anyone?”
Something in his voice grabbed her attention.
It was low and gravely as if he cared whether or not she’d been
kissed before. Chin up, she stared into the eyes that had captured
her heart, caught the twinkle of amusement, and her stomach flopped
in disappointment.
Silly of her to think Forrest might actually
look at her and see an actual girl with feelings instead of Jason’s
shadow. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he was one of the Vineyard’s
elite. She was the half African-American, half-Japanese, flat-chested
girl who lived in the same house with his best friend. Not that he
was ever rude just… indifferent. Unlike the others, he never went
out of his way for her. Once or twice, she’d caught him looking her
way, brows knitted, an annoyed look on his face. No, never rude. But
his opinion of her was clear. She was the little girl who followed
his best friend everywhere, a nuisance, plain and simple.
Humiliation quickly turned to anger. She
planted her legs wide and crossed her arms over chest. “How did you
know I was in here?”
He shrugged. “You weren’t outside.”
“I could have been by the lake.”
The corners of his mouth lifted up, then his
smile widened into a grin “I saw you come in.”
“You were watching me.”
His eyes narrowed. “We all watch over you.
That’s what we do.”
Not exactly what she had hoped to hear.
Realizing she stood no chance to win this banter, she quickly opted
for plan B. The truth. What she wanted most in the world. To be
kissed by him. She edged further into the room and leaned her elbows
on the window sill, her denim shorts brushing against the dusty wall.
“Fine. You were right,” she started in a low voice, her back to
him. “I was practicing kissing because I’ve never been kissed.”
“Go on.”
“Cosmopolitan
has a step-by-step guide on how to practice kissing and I was
following the instructions.” She paused and inspected her battered
red Converse, building courage to spill everything. “But it also
says the best practice is with another person.” She turned to look
at him. “Will you kiss me, Forrest?”
“No,” he answered without a beat.
The swift blow of rejection knocked every wisp
of air from her lungs. Claire struggled to inhale, to exhale, to do
anything. Stunned and disoriented, she swiftly turned her attention
back to the window. The sun stung her eyes, they watered. She quickly
batted away escaped tears.
“Claire,” he said, his voice a bit more
soothing. “You’re so young.”
“I’m fifteen,” she said in a desperate
voice caught between frustration and crying.
“And I’m eighteen.”
She whipped around and looked straight at him.
“We’re only three years apart.”
He smiled. “Right now, it feels like ten.”
They stood, staring at each other in a
companionable silence, broken only when Forrest let out a deep
breath.
“I’m leaving for college in a few days.”
Although it was summer, the words chilled her
spine. She needed to kiss him and let him see, feel everything she
felt inside but could find no words to express. “What if I wasn’t
fifteen?”
“Still no.”
The rejection, although gentler this time,
still cut deep into her heart.
“Am I that unappealing to you?”
He dragged his fingers through his hair.
“Claire.”
She held up a hand. “It doesn’t matter.
Most of the boys here are trying to figure out what to make of me. An
African-American-Asian girl. Is she pretty or just weird-looking?”
She shrugged with indifference, but deep down the quick glances here
and there bothered her.
“What do you care what others think? You’re
beautiful.”
An equal mixture of pure ecstasy and
excruciating pain made her heart go pit-a-pat. “You think I’m
beautiful?”
He nodded. “Definitely.”
“So why won’t you kiss me?”
With quick strides, he came to stand next to
her and gently stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You
should be kissing boys your own age.”
She looked into his eyes and her heart swelled
from the emotion bottled inside. Feelings even she didn’t
understand, let alone try to express. He gave her a quick smile then
walked back to the door. The bitter taste of regret stung her tongue
like a rusty razor blade. The moment she had planned, spent so many
sleepless nights imagining, had slipped from her hands.
He opened the door and turned to look at her
once more. “When you do kiss your crush, I hope it’s everything
you imagined it to be.” He smiled—a sweet, sexy smile that got
her all flustered—and then he walked out of the barn.
* * * *
Rain lashed down on Claire in cold, icy pellets
bit into her skin. Wet grass and dirt mushed under her shoes,
slashing up her legs and staining the skirt of her dress. Focusing on
Forrest, she quickened her pace. She had fallen asleep watching her
favorite soap opera.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
She’d almost missed him.
“Forrest,” she called after him, heart in
her throat, fearful he would enter his parents waiting pick-up truck
and drive away forever. “Forrest,” she screamed his name again, a
dozen needles dancing in her stomach. She stopped, her breathing
stuttered in her lungs, exhausted from fear.
Please look at me.
He slowed his steps and after a second or two
he turned. “Claire,” he said, squinting.
Her heart leaped with joy. She caught him just
before his parents drove away to catch the ferry to Falmouth.
Smiling, she ran forward, closing the distance between them, and said
through ragged breaths, “You’re leaving.”
“I know.” He looked over his shoulder at
his parents’ truck. “What are you doing? It’s pouring.”
She launched herself at him, strong arms
clamped around her waist. “I love you,” she whispered and
squeezed her eyes shut.
For a minute neither moved, time stopped. They
stood still, holding on to each other, their bodies drenched from the
downpour. She shivered, not from the coldness of the rain but the
string of electricity shooting through her veins. Her heart, like a
fly in a cobweb with nothing to do, waited for his laughter to
confirm how ridiculous she sounded. But it didn’t come. Sucking in
a breath, she waited a little longer. Except for the huge raindrops
splattering with charged energy, there was absolute silence.
Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked into the
depth of his gray ones. A fluttery feeling took over her body.
“Forrest.”
He swept back her matted hair, and his lips
cracked into a smile. “I’m your crush.”
She shook her head. A crush was the lowest
level of romance. Her feelings ran beyond that. “It’s not a
crush.”
“Claire, you’re fifteen.”
The world around her started collapsing. “I’m
in love with you,” she said emphatically.
“It’s an infatuation.”
No. No. This was bigger than an intense, naïve,
adolescent admiration. She searched his face for any hint that just
maybe deep down he believed her, only to come up short. Empty.
Nothing. Feeling weak and hopeless, her shoulders slumped. She was
losing this battle. “You’re going to have sex in college.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “Claire.”
“I know about sex.”
“Jesus, Claire, if you’re having sex with
some douchebag…”
“I’m not having sex,” she cried, fighting
back the tears threatening to spill. “But I know what it is. I
don’t want you doing it with girls in college.” She grabbed his
arms. “Please wait for me.”
“What makes you think I haven’t had sex?”
Raindrops, hard and thick, hit her face like
bullets. With a quick brush of her hand, she swept matted hair away
from her eyes. “I overheard you telling the guys you were waiting
for that person.” She was making a fool of herself but at this
point what did it matter. “You want it to be special…your first
time.” She swallowed the panic choking her. “I want to be your
first, Forrest, and you mine. I love you.”
He looked at her for a long moment. His eyes
became shadowed. Hope bubbled in her stomach. And then he sighed,
took a step back and broke their connection. Her heart dropped all
the way to her toes.
“This is a crush. It will pass,” he said
quietly.
“No.” He owned her heart. Forever. It
didn’t matter she was only fifteen. Some things only happened once
in a lifetime and had nothing to do with age. “Promise me, you’ll
at least try to wait for me.”
“I have to go. I’m sorry, Claire.” He
touched her face and stared at her for a long beat. “One day you’ll
look back at this and laugh.”
“No,” she choked.
“Yes.”
Their gazes locked. The pitiless rain continued
thrashing her skin.
Forrest took her hand in his and brought it to
his lips. “I have to go.” He released his grip and walked to his
parents’ truck. For a brief moment, he hesitated and looked back.
Hope stirred low in her belly, then he tossed his backpack in the
truck and shut the door.
Nausea pained her stomach, heart and chest. She
had waited for this moment to come forward with her deepest feelings
and bring to life those three words she’d been harboring.
She fought and lost.
Her world collapsed.
Emotionally bankrupt, she stood in dazed
isolation and took the onslaught of the chilled rain. Her wet dress
hugged her, its weight heavy and oppressing. With blind eyes to the
world, she stared at the shadow of the pick-up taillights until they
faded. It was hard to tell when she started crying and even more
difficult to discern between her tears and the rain as she turned her
face to the sky above. Her eyelids fluttered to deflect the water,
she wanted to move, to run, but her legs were weak and incapable of
doing anything. So she stood in the pelting rain and let her body and
mind drown in the cold, wet afternoon.
TEASERS
BOOK TRAILER
AUTHOR BIO
Mika
lives in New Jersey with her Happy Chaos – her husband and their
two energizer bunnies. She’s addicted to Spotify, lip balm and
a cute scarf.
When
she does have time to breathe, and isn't behind her computer, you can
find her working on her garden, reading, hiking with her camera slung
over her shoulder, or practicing her knitting skills.
She
loves to hear from readers. Connect with her on Facebook, Twitter,
and Goodreads, or drop her an email.
For
latest news on her current works-in-progress, interviews with fellow
authors, or just to see what she's up to, check out
http://mikajolie.comWhile
there, sign up for her newsletter, where you can hear her latest news
and enjoy giveaways. Of course, she'll never spam you.
Title:Secret Author: Kindle Alexander Genre: M/M Romance Release: June 9, 2015
Tristan Wilder, self-made millionaire and devastatingly handsome CEO of Wilder-Nation is on the verge of a very lucrative buyout. With tough negotiations ahead, he's armed with his acquisition pitch, ready to launch the deal of a lifetime. There’s just one glitch. The last thing he expects is to fall for the hot business owner he's trying to sway.
Dylan Reeves, computer science engineer and founder of the very successful social media site, Secret, is faced with a life-altering decision. A devoted family man with three kids and a wife, Dylan has been living a secret for years. Fiercely loyal to his convictions, his boundaries blur after meeting the striking owner of the corporation interested in acquiring his company. For the first time in his life, reckless desire consumes him when the gorgeous computer mogul makes an offer he can't refuse.
Best Selling Author Kindle Alexander is an innovative writer, and a genre-crosser who writes classic fantasy, romance, suspense, and erotica in both the male/male and male/female genres. It's always a surprise to see what's coming next!
I live in the suburbs of Dallas where it's true, the only thing bigger than an over active imagination, may be women's hair!
Usually, I try for funny. Humor is a major part of my life - I love to laugh, and it seems to be the thing I do in most situations - regardless of the situation, but jokes are a tricky deal... I don't want to offend anyone and jokes tend to offend. So instead I'm going to tell you about Kindle.
I tragically lost my sixteen year old daughter to a drunk driver. She had just been at home, it was early in the night and I heard the accident happen. I'll never forget that moment. The sirens were immediate and something inside me just knew. I left my house, drove straight to the accident on nothing more than instinct. I got to be there when my little girl died - weirdly, I consider that a true gift from above. She didn't have to be alone.
That time in my life was terrible. It's everything you think it would be times about a billion. I love that kid. I loved being her mother and I loved watching her grow into this incredibly beautiful person, both inside and out. She was such a gift to me. To have it all ripped away so suddenly broke me.
Her name was Kindle. Honest to goodness - it was her name and she died a few weeks before Amazon released their brand new Kindle ereader. She had no idea it was coming out and she would have finally gotten her name on something! Try finding a ruler with the name Kindle on it.. It never happened.
Through the course of that crippling event I was lucky enough to begin to write with a dear friend in the fan fiction world of Facebook. She got me through those dark days with her unwavering support and friendship. There wasn't a time she wasn't there for me. Sometimes together and sometimes by myself, we built a world where Kindle lives and stands for peace, love and harmony. It's its own kind of support group. I know without question I wouldn't be here today without her.
Find out more by visiting www.kindlealexander.com or email me at kindle@kindlealexander.com
