by Charisse Moritz
GENRE: YA Romance, (mature)
He’s the boy who wants to disappear.
One mistake and seventeen-year-old Shake LeCasse lost everything. Now there’s no going back and no way to move forward. The once-popular Varsity hockey captain is living in the basement of a grandmother he barely knows, ditching school, avoiding friends and working hard on self-destruction.
She’s the girl nobody sees.
Cleo Lee survives however she can. Lie, cheat, steal, whatever it takes, and saving Mr. Popular isn’t part of the plan. Telling him the truth about the night that destroyed his life is downright dangerous. She needs to keep quiet, be smart and let the guy she’s been half in love with since middle school throw away a future she’d do anything to have. Too bad she sucks at playing it safe.
He is nothing but trouble in a pretty package:
Heaving upward, I battle to straighten my legs under his weight. There’s a lot of him and not very much of me. To handle this much bulk, I should have rented a moving van. The dude is so ridiculously big, he probably beeps when he backs up. So when his arm lands across my shoulders, I dip forward quicker than a robin spotting a worm.
He plops a massive hand on top of my head, and I’m suddenly wearing an octopus as a hat. For the second time today.
“Hey!” I try again.
He lifts up his right foot, waggles it, and says, “My feet are fucking huge.”
I squeeze tighter. He’s unsteady and OK, yes, he just feels really super good. I may never get this chance again and plan to make the most of it. I sort of wish I could crawl right inside him and burrow deep. I am the parasite. He is the healthy host.
“You know what they say about dudes with big feet,” I tell him.
“Nope. Try again.”
“Jesus,” I snap. “Quit already!”
He points at my boots and says, “Arose your fleet.”
His name is Shakespeare. He not only takes AP courses, but until this year, held a top ten spot in our senior class. So maybe this conversation is above my IQ level, because I don’t know anything about my fleet or how to raise it. But when his hand drifts upward, pointing at my boobs, and the drunken mess says, “They’re tiny as shit,” I hope to hell he was asking about my feet. As in, “Are those your feet?”
“Your fleet can kiss my ass.” I tug on him. “Let’s go.”
He shakes his head. “Not what I need.”
He gives me another slow head shake and suddenly drops to the pavement, landing on his ass. Since I’m hanging on, and still squeezing like my life depends on him, it turns into a whole Jack and Jill thing, with him breaking his crown and me tumbling after. My left elbow takes the worst of it.
I push away, trip over his ginormous fleet and nearly fall again. “Goddamnit! Screw this.”
I only came to The Crypt to bitch out my brother for stealing my toothpaste, hoping he’d throw me a couple of bones. Shake can find his own way home. Or not. I don’t give a shit. So what if Mr. Popularity spends all night on the cold sidewalk? So what if the cops pick him up? So what if he wears his jeans better than the Mona Lisa wears a smile? He is nothing but trouble in a pretty package and definitely out of my price range.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Emily Award Finalist and Melody Of Love Award Finalist, Charisse M Moritz divides her life between upstate NY and northern Florida. When not barricaded inside her writing cave or enjoying every possible minute with her husband and three kids, you’ll find her listening to 60’s music, singing offkey and looking for new reads.
GIVEAWAY INFORMATION and RAFFLECOPTER CODE
Charisse Moritz will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.a Rafflecopter giveaway https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js