Welcome to Living in a Bookworld, which basically is a blog full of what else but books. Here, you can find and read reviews about books from the young adult, fiction and not, and sometimes the adult section. Also, every month is going to be dedicated to an author or two. You will be able to see the new books that come out every week as well. Let the book journey begin!
Series: New Hope #2 Publication Date: October 2013 Genre:New Adult Contemporary
I grew up wishing on stars.
My father taught me to believe…in destiny, in magic,
in happily ever after. Dreams were my scripture and the starry night sky was my
temple. Then Mom stopped believing, left him, and took us with her. At the age
of sixteen, I cashed in my dreams to pay the rent, pawned my destiny to keep my
Now, seven years later, I’m returning home, grieving
the death of my mother, and settling my sisters back into the life Mom threw
away. I never intended to stay. I don’t want to deal with my father, who is so
invested in the spiritual world he forgets the physical. I don’t want to face
William Bailey, whose eyes remind me of the girl I was, the things I’ve done,
and the future I lost.
This would all be easier if Will hated me. As it is, I
have to hold my secrets close so they won’t hurt him more than they’ve already
hurt me. But he wants to be in my life. He wants what I can’t bring myself to
confess I sold. He wants me.
I find myself looking to my stars again...wondering if
I dare one more wish.
I can hardly breathe. My brain
doesn’t have time for something as trivial as oxygen when it’s so busy
cataloguing her features, memorizing the exact shade of her mocha eyes, warring
with the anger and regret that have sprung to life as if they never left me to
I never thought I’d see her again. I
didn’t think I wanted to.
The moment I step closer, I realize
my mistake. Being near her is like a sip of water to desert-parched lips. It
whips something through me—memories, lust, first love. Heartbreak. She tilts her lips up to mine, and I actually think for
one goddamned ridiculous minute that I might kiss her, that I want to. That I
would swallow all my pride and forgive her for just one taste.
I step back before I can give in to
the impulse, and her cheeks blaze to life, her blush as cute as the rest of
her. That’s the word for her: cute. Sweet smile and peppy ponytail, she exudes
Except her ass. Her ass doesn’t even
land in the same stratosphere as cute, and those tight little pants do nothing
to hide its soft, round curves. And her breasts. There’s definitely nothing cute about the way her T-shirt stretches
across their fullness. Or her go-for-miles legs. Not to mention the narrow
strip of skin exposed between her shirt and pants. Just looking at the single
inch of flesh below her navel, and I practically taste strawberry wine on my
Moonlight. Her warm skin under my
tongue. The sound of her moan as my tongue dips lower.
The memory grabs hold of my senses
and won’t let go.
Fuck. I can’t even lie to myself.
Nothing about her says cute. Everything
about her says sex. And mine.