Today is the Release Day of Jennifer Miller's Pretty Little Dreams and I get to participate in the blog tour with an Excerpt. Pretty Little Dreams is Book Two of the Pretty Little Lies Series. This tour is hosted by Lustful Literature.
Pretty Little Dreams
A Pretty Little Lies Novel
by Jennifer Miller
Publication Date: January 14, 2014
Pages: 261
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by Jennifer Miller
Publication Date: January 14, 2014
Pages: 261
Add to Goodreads
Purchase:
Amazon US
Amazon CA
Amazon UK
Synopsis
There is a place in all of us where our deepest secrets lie in wait for their moment to surface, and surface they will.
After living through a real live nightmare, Olivia wants nothing but to forget. Forget and move on. But how do you forget something that has stained your soul and forces you to lie to your loved ones? Even if your intentions are to spare them the horrors of the truth?
Luke knows Olivia is not as recovered as she would have him believe. He can see the pain she tries to keep hidden behind her eyes, and knows she has not told him everything. But how do you save someone who won’t let you in? Where shame holds Olivia captive, Luke suffers through the guilt of not protecting the one person he loves more than anything.
Can two people who have suffered so dearly find a way to come together or will they risk the dreams they have placed in each other’s hearts? Can love find a way where forgiveness cannot?
Excerpt
As soon as he lets go of me, I wipe my face with the back of my hand. He laughs as he walks out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Throwing the covers back, I run to the door and press my ear against it – all I hear is murmuring on the other side. He must be on the phone again. It isn’t long before I hear a hard slam which I assume is a door closing. I think I’m alone; this could be my only chance for a while.
I run to the sliding balcony doors and creep out onto the balcony. This is the first chance I’ve had to come out and take in my surroundings. Deacon told me when he locked me in this room that we are in the middle of nowhere and I could yell and scream as much as I want – no one will hear.
Looking around, I see he was telling the truth. There doesn’t appear to be anything for miles. I’m too high up to jump down and tying my sheets together would be useless; I couldn't even reasonably reach the ground.
Frantically, I start running around the room, looking for something, anything, to use as a weapon. I search the dresser, the top of the closet, under the bed, the bathroom cabinets. “Dammit.” I can't find anything. Running back to the bed, I rip the sheet from it and wrap it around my hand. Heading to the balcony doors, I brace myself. If I can manage to shatter the door, I can use the glass as a weapon. Please let this work. I take my fist and slam it against the door as hard as I can. I scream. Not even a scratch and all I managed to do was hurt my hand. In anger, I beat against the door over and over until I’m a heap on the floor. I pull my hand out of the sheet and glance at it. It’s beginning to swell, but I hardly feel it.
There’s nothing here. Nothing. Feeling defeated, I walk back out onto the balcony and decide it’s worth a try, no matter what Deacon said.
“HELP! PLEASE SOMEONE! HELP ME!”
Throwing the covers back, I run to the door and press my ear against it – all I hear is murmuring on the other side. He must be on the phone again. It isn’t long before I hear a hard slam which I assume is a door closing. I think I’m alone; this could be my only chance for a while.
I run to the sliding balcony doors and creep out onto the balcony. This is the first chance I’ve had to come out and take in my surroundings. Deacon told me when he locked me in this room that we are in the middle of nowhere and I could yell and scream as much as I want – no one will hear.
Looking around, I see he was telling the truth. There doesn’t appear to be anything for miles. I’m too high up to jump down and tying my sheets together would be useless; I couldn't even reasonably reach the ground.
Frantically, I start running around the room, looking for something, anything, to use as a weapon. I search the dresser, the top of the closet, under the bed, the bathroom cabinets. “Dammit.” I can't find anything. Running back to the bed, I rip the sheet from it and wrap it around my hand. Heading to the balcony doors, I brace myself. If I can manage to shatter the door, I can use the glass as a weapon. Please let this work. I take my fist and slam it against the door as hard as I can. I scream. Not even a scratch and all I managed to do was hurt my hand. In anger, I beat against the door over and over until I’m a heap on the floor. I pull my hand out of the sheet and glance at it. It’s beginning to swell, but I hardly feel it.
There’s nothing here. Nothing. Feeling defeated, I walk back out onto the balcony and decide it’s worth a try, no matter what Deacon said.
“HELP! PLEASE SOMEONE! HELP ME!”
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