Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Title: Turning Home
Author: Stephanie Nelson
Genre: New Adult
Tour Host: Lady Amber's Tours
Book description:
When Brooke Kingsley finally captures the interest of her four-year crush—Dylan Crawford—her world turns upside down. Feeling alive for the first time, Brooke decides to spend her last three days of summer with Dylan and discovers there’s more to him than the rumors being whispered all over town. The problem is, Brooke’s father doesn’t want his daughter anywhere near the blue-collar bad boy. As Brooke leaves for college, she’ll realize that some boys aren’t easy to forget.
Dylan Crawford has hated the Roseville Snobs his entire life, but one particular Snob has captured his eye—Brooke Kingsley. He knows he should stay away from her, but willpower has never been his strong suit. Soon Brooke is all he can think about. When she leaves for school, Dylan tries to move on with other girls, but the memory of Brooke taunts him. There’s an undeniable pull to the very girl he’s been warned to stay away from.
When tragedy strikes the Kingsley household, secrets are uncovered. Brooke and Dylan must decide if what they feel for each other is strong enough to conquer their families’ dark past.
 Book Trailer  http://youtu.be/rRSQV7unrCU


Author Bio:
You guys may be surprised to learn that I am the most boring person you’ll ever meet. The most interesting thing about me is that I write books, most of the time in my pajamas and jacked up on caffeine.
I began writing six years ago for fun and published my first book in 2012. Since then, my hobby has become my job and I love every second of it.
I live in Illinois, in the country where I’m surrounded by corn and soybean fields. When I manage to escape my office, I enjoy fishing, spending time with my family and playing Super Mario Bros. and Donkey Kong. Yes, I’m a huge video game nerd.








Author links: 
Twitter: @stephnel1


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Excerpt:

Excerpt 1 (from Dylan Crawford’s POV)
It was funny how time dragged on and on when you were waiting for something. The months Brooke had been gone had felt like years. Each day crawled by so slowly that sometimes I thought I’d go out of my mind with madness. I went to work, came home. I went out with Jase, drank, and hooked up with girls now and then, only to come home to the bed that still held the memory of Brooke. Even the bed of my truck was soaked with her memory.
I’d lived these past months in a haze of monotonous routines and numbness. So many times I wished I’d approached her sooner, had the balls to claim what I wanted and not worry if her parents thought I was good enough. After a while, I grew bitter the longer her face haunted me. No girl had ever held power over me. No girl had ever gotten under my skin so quickly. I couldn’t begin to explain the connection I had to Brooke, but after analyzing every small detail, I settled on the fact that some things weren’t meant to be understood. Not everything needed a logical explanation to make it real. I knew, without a doubt, my feelings were just as real as the beating of my heart.
The front door slowly opened, and I lifted my eyes to find … Mr. Kingsley. I hadn’t been expecting him to be home. His car wasn’t in the driveway. A scowl instantly marred his face, his eyebrows drawing together as he glared at me.
“You’re that Crawford boy.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, sir, I am,” I said politely. “I heard about your wife and wanted to stop by to see if Brooke was okay.”
“What business is it of yours how my daughter is doing?”
What was I supposed to say to that? We stared at each other for a long moment and, as the silence built, I saw the furious revelation light his eyes. It wasn’t a secret the type of man I was. Everyone in town knew I was notorious for hopping from bed to bed. Had she been my daughter, I would hate me, too.
Excerpt 2 (from Dylan Crawford’s POV -contains racy content)
I’d lost my virginity when I was fifteen and had been having sex ever since. I wasn’t one of those guys who kept a tally or bragged about who I’d done. To me, sex was always just part of who I was, and that didn’t garner boasting. I was never picky when it came to finding someone to share my bed with, so long as I got off. No matter how beautiful the girl was or how sweetly she hinted at wanting something more, once she showed signs of falling for me, I cut all ties. Some girls got their hearts broken, some—the ones suffering from low self-esteem—came back again and again, convinced they could change me. Never in all my experiences had I associated sex as anything more than a quick high. It satisfied an emptiness I didn’t even know existed.
When those girls looked at me with sappy, googly eyes, my confidence soared. I felt deserving of the admiration. Say what you will, the feeling was addictive. They didn’t care that I didn’t have money, worked as a mechanic, or drove a twelve year old truck. God help them, all they saw when they looked at me was someone they were attracted to. Unfortunately, with women, sex is never just sex. Once they learned all the fantasies swimming through their head sank after I got what I wanted, that awe faded from their eyes. And it was on to the next.
The girl currently on my lap, moving her bare hips against my cock, shattered all of my misconceptions about sex. I knew I had switched places with all those girls who’d looked at me so entranced. Now, I was the one in awe of the girl before me. If karma were a real thing, it would take her away from me and teach me a lesson. I’d admit I deserved it and more. Somehow, Brooke had become everything to me. I hadn’t intentionally planned to settle down or feel the way I felt. I didn’t pretend to know why it happened or even how. I just knew I wouldn’t change it if I could.
Excerpt 3 (from Brooke Kingsley’s POV)
He moved toward me, and I tensed, anxious to see what he would do. I had been talking myself into believing I saw hints of attraction whenever he looked at me, but that was just my obsessed mind playing tricks on me. Dylan messed around with experienced, tough girls, not spoiled, rich girls like me. I wouldn’t know the first thing about being with a boy like him.
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do since last night,” he said, gripping my waist with both hands. “If you want me to stop, just tell me, but I only have three days with you, and I can’t wait a second longer.”
He slid a hand up, cupped the back of my neck, and brought his mouth to mine. I had only ever kissed James, and those had been sloppy all-over-the-place kisses—too eager. Dylan’s technique was completely different—slower. He nipped at my bottom lip, applying enough pressure that weakened my knees and promised more. I moved my mouth against his, praying he was enjoying the kiss as much as I was. The grip on my waist tightened, tugging me closer to his body. Through my thin shirt, I could feel the ridges that made up his muscular chest. I felt my body slumping against his, yearning to be closer to him.
When his tongue slipped between my lips, a moan—I didn’t know I was capable of—vibrated up my throat. Our tongues tangled while Dylan fisted his fingers in my hair and held me against his body as though he was afraid I would run. He didn’t know that my legs were too weak to take me anywhere.
When he broke away from my mouth, he rested his forehead against mine; our heavy breaths mingled in the space between us. My heart pounded so hard I was sure he could hear it, and the butterflies in my stomach took up residence inside my skull, leaving me dizzy. That was not what kisses were like, at least not in my experience.
Excerpt 4 (from Brooke Kingsley’s POV)
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he breathed, his eyes searching my face.
I bobbed my head, my heartbeat a hopeless flutter in my chest. “Okay.”
The breath of his chuckle landed on my mouth as his lips pressed against mine. My body sagged against his, and I brought my arms up and twined them around his neck. Tilting my head to the side, I moved my mouth against his, moaning when his tongue slipped through my lips. I could spend the rest of my life kissing Dylan Crawford.
Somewhere I thought I heard a cell phone ringing, but I was too lost in the sensations consuming my body.
“You wanna get that?” Dylan spoke against my lips, one side of his mouth lifted in a smirk.
“No,” I whispered.
“It’s probably your mama or daddy,” he said with an arched brow.
I bit my lip to hold back my smile. “You’re probably right, but they’re not going to ruin the last night I have with you. I’ll deal with them later.”
“I see my bad influence is rubbing off on you.”
“Would you rather I answer it so they can tell me to come home on my last night?”
Dylan’s smile flattened, and his eyes searched my face as though he was trying to memorize my every feature. I studied him as well, taking in his bright green eyes, strong jawline and full lips. I could not believe I was in his arms, after daydreaming about him for four years. Everything about our time together seemed surreal, and I knew once I left for school, it would be surreal—a dream from a time in my life where I came alive. My own smile disappeared as I wondered how long it would take him to forget our time together. Come tomorrow night would he be entertaining a new girl, taking her fishing and mud wrestling? It was very hard to remember that he could do whatever he wanted. We were not dating and probably never would. Our time was a fantasy that reality would crush tomorrow.
“Why the pouty face?”
I hadn’t realized I was zoning out, lost in my thoughts. “I’m not pouting.”
Dylan leaned forward and sucked my bottom lip in between his. My eyes wide, my heart thudding in my chest, I suppressed the moan in my throat and the heat it had created between my legs.
“I couldn’t resist,” Dylan said, setting me down. “It was just out there, teasing me with its cuteness.”

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