Buon S. Valentino a tutte le cosmo girls del mondo!! ( ho avuto anche delle visualizzazioni dal Brasile....wow!! )
Questa mi sembra la giornata ideale per farvi sapere che il 25 marzo 2014 uscirà il nuovo libro di S. Walden!! Ve l'ho presentata con la recensione di Good. Avete quindi tutto il tempo per poterlo leggere, imparando così a conoscere questa autrice e aspettare insieme a me questa nuova pubblicazione. Si tratta di una storia d'amore ma in pieno stile Walden. C'è un'altra fantastica novità, troverete in fondo il link per partecipare alla cosidetta "giveaway", si tratta di un concorso per poter vincere una copia del libro. you better take a look!!
Release Date: March 25, 2014
Genre: Adult Contemporary Romance
Spice Factor: Freaking Hot (don't let the cutesy cover fool you)
Book Description:
Arrive to work at 7:58 A.M. sharp. Check. Count forty-seven steps to cubicle. Check. Arrange pens in their red-blue-black-green-purple order of importance. Check. Apply hand sanitizer before opening email. Double check.
And that’s just the first few minutes of her work day.
Thirty-one-year-old proofreader Bailey Mitchell is a slave to her tics. She inherited Obsessive Compulsive Disorder from her father, and it’s done nothing but inhibit her love life. She’s run the gamut of boyfriends—none of them willing or able to cope with her condition.
Enter 32-year-old Reece Powell, her new coworker at Beach Elite Marketing Firm. He’s more than willing to cope. He finds her habits cute and quirky . . . for now. Reece wins her over, and life coasts along for them until Bailey experiences a devastating blow. Tragedy exacerbates her OCD, and Reece realizes her tics aren’t so cute and quirky anymore. Just like all the others, he has the choice to leave.
But Reece isn't like all the others.
The Wilmington Saga
Follow the stories of Wilmington, NC residents as they fall in and out of love, mend and break hearts, grow, change, lose, win, and experience what it means to truly live in this small coastal community.
Bio:
S. Walden used to teach English before making the best decision of her life by becoming a full-time writer. She lives in Georgia with her very supportive husband, who prefers physics textbooks over fiction and has a difficult time understanding why her characters must have personality flaws. She is wary of small children, so she has a Westie instead. She is the USA Today bestselling author of Going Under. When she's not writing, she's thinking about it.
She loves her fans and loves to hear from them. Email her at swaldenauthor@hotmail.com and follow her twitter feed at @swaldenauthor.
Website: www.swaldenauthor.com
Author FB page: www.facebook.com/swaldenauthor
Personal FB page: www.facebook.com/
LoveLines goodreads page: http://www.goodreads.com/book/
Giveaway:
3 winners will receive a digital copy of the LoveLines Exclusive Preview.
Rafflecopter: http://www.rafflecopter.com/
Siccome le sorprese non sono finite....ecco a voi un piccolo estratto del libro per gentile concessione dell'autrice !!
I
rounded the corner and slammed into him. And was subsequently
distracted from counting my steps. My OCD was in overdrive today. Why? Because
my anxiety was somewhere up in space. I was terrified of running into him. And
I’m talking in the figurative sense. I actually, literally, ran into him! Well,
technically he ran into me.
“Gosh, I’m sorry,
Bailey!” he said, helping me to my feet. Yes, I forgot to mention that I fell
on the floor, the papers I was delivering strewn about the hallway in a
disorganized mess.
“It’s okay,” I
replied. I was so frazzled that I didn’t even take note of the way my hand felt
in his. I’d have to imagine it was perfect. “Seems we have a knack for falling
in front of each other.”
He smiled down at me
and adjusted his collar. “Yeah, but the difference here is that I bulldozed
you. Are you sure you’re okay?”
I nodded, and he
sighed relief.
“You helped me up
and left the papers on the floor,” I pointed out. I worried it came out
accusatory instead of playful. So I grinned, and he seemed to like it.
We knelt on the
floor together and collected the pages. He even helped me organize them before
taking my hand and pulling me to my feet once more. This time I paid attention.
He had a warm, solid grip. Protective. It sent a rush of fiery orange all the
way up my arm and into my heart, making it beat faster and stronger.
And then came the
really awkward part—that weird silent moment of smiling and shuffling feet
because you aren’t sure what else to say. I mean, there was certainly something
that could be said, but I didn’t take Reece for the type of
guy who would embarrass me by bringing it up. “It” as in my highly-sexualized
exhibition last Thursday.
“I think I saw you
at The Reel Café,” he said after a moment.
Okay. Apparently
Reece is the kind of guy who brings shit up to embarrass you.
“Really?” I asked,
furrowing my brow. “I don’t know that I was there Thursday night.”
“You were dancing
with your friend. You had on a little blue dress,” he said. I guess he felt the
need to jog my memory.
“Ohhhh,” I replied,
and smacked my forehead with the heel of my palm. “That’s right! I was there. I
had a lot to drink. Hard to remember where I was or what I did.” I giggled
nervously.
He affected
disappointment. “Oh, so that whole show wasn’t really about me.”
I couldn’t believe
he actually said it! Yes, he went there. Went there.
“What are you
talking about?” I asked. I knew the jig was up, but I wasn’t ready to admit I
flirted with him so blatantly. And anyway, I didn’t know it was him at the
time.
“The dancing,” he
said. “When you danced for me.”
He stared directly
at my face, just like he did when he visited me at my cubicle for the first
time. This guy had balls. Well, I mean, obviously he had balls. I hope he had
balls. Bailey, stop thinking about his balls.
“I . . .” What could
I say? I didn’t know if I should be aggravated that he was so clearly
embarrassing me or jump his bones because he looked really hot in that tailored
striped button-up.
He leaned over to
get eye level with me. “I’m just messin’ with you,” he said softly.
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