Wednesday, August 27, 2014

A Brief Short by Harper 8/27/14



Mirror of Release

Twenty-eight-year-old Devin Hurley rolled from his bed, stumbling to the bathroom. It’d been a lousy night’s sleep for him…again. The faceless male that had been haunting his dreams for more than a few months now had been back, beckoning him and promising all kinds of sexual favors. Favors that always got Devin hot and bothered.


Still bitter about his break-up with Trace almost six months ago, he’d been keeping to himself, blocking out the need to be with someone as he tried to convince himself he didn’t need to have a warm, welcoming body in his bed to be complete. But who the hell was he kidding? The desire for companionship—someone to connect to—didn’t just disappear because he wished it so.


The first night he’d taken matters into his own hands and jerked himself off while picturing the hottest guy he could imagine was the first night the anonymous guy had invaded his dreams. On the mornings of each visit by this dreamy specter, he’d awakened completely exhausted, the bed sheets damp and tangled about his legs. And this morning had been no exception.


As soon as he reached to open the mirrored medicine cabinet to grab his shaving cream and razor, he sucked in a deep breath. Convinced he was more tired than he thought, Devin watched as the smooth glass of the mirror started to ripple and waver before his eyes. Dark pools of liquid desire began to come into focus, making him wonder if he was dreaming. It was him, the guy from his dreams, he just knew it. But now, the man’s face was finally coming into focus.


Using his palms to splash cold water against his stubbled chin and cheeks, Devin told himself to wake the fuck up. Eyes still closed, he turned away from the small mirror over the sink. When he opened them, his blood seemed to halt its stuttered flow through his veins. He was now facing the full-length mirror that covered the inside of the bathroom door. It wasn’t his own reflection looking back at him, though. For smack dab in the center of the fluctuating glass was the hottest man he’d seen in a very long time. Close-cropped dark hair covered the guy’s head in bluish-black shimmering strands. Eyes that seemed to change from light brown to puddles of dark ink shot arrows of lust straight through him. Washboard abs, muscular pecs and biceps, along with tree-trunk like thighs and a long, thick cock that seemed to be alive as it pulsated gently met his perusal. And the mouth-watering male was beckoning him with a crook of his finger.


“Come on, Devin. Come to me. Remember all those things I’ve been promising to do to you, to share with you? It’s time to make them come true.”


“Are you even real? Am I in a fucking dream again?”


“Take my hand and find out, Devin. I’m Lucas, and I want to be yours…all yours.”


Not one to deny his throbbing cock, Devin reached out with slightly trembling fingers. Like that, he was yanked through the rippling waves of what was once the mirror and found himself in a lavish bedroom. What looked like a finely-crafted dresser, wardrobe, and night tables filled the space along with the largest bed he’d ever seen. It had to have been custom made. However, none of these surroundings interested him more than the gorgeously muscular man that crawled across the comforter before turning to give him another lethally seductive gaze.


“Come on, Devin, join me. You won’t be disappointed.” Lucas stroked his enormous cock as he spoke, eliciting a groan from Devin.


“Oh, I’m sure I won’t be disappointed, Lucas.” The heat spearing from Lucas’ eyes nearly melted Devin on the spot. Fully awake—he hoped—his body responded in kind, his dick hardening to the point of pain. 

Kneeling on the bed to the side of Lucas, his hand reached out as he spoke. “Show me what you have in mind, Luc.”


“That’s an invitation I can’t say no to,” replied Lucas. “I want to swallow your cock, lover. Right now.”


“By all means.” Feeding his length to Lucas, Devin watched the man open and engulf him in the inferno of his mouth. The man’s tongue danced up and down his stalk, running across the pulsing veins and probing his leaking slit. “Shit yeah, just like that. Don’t stop.”


The only answer he received was a deep hum of satisfaction from Lucas. When both of his partner’s hands reached out to grab his waist then slid around to grip his ass cheeks in a bruising hold, Devin surged forward into the mouth currently paying homage to his dick and lost himself in the swirling sensations.


“Is my mouth giving you pleasure, Devin? Do you like what I’m doing to your cock?”


“Lucas…? Are you talking to me while you go down on me?”


“You bet, lover. I’ve got a shitload of talents you have yet to discover.”


“Bu-but how?” Devin was beyond puzzled.


“Don’t ask now, lover. Just enjoy…just take every pleasure I’m going to give you.” As Lucas spoke, his tongue seemed to change in shape, size, and density then began to slide into the seeping eye of Devin’s cock, making him arch and see stars.


“Holy fuck, Luc! No more questions, I promise.” Head rolling back on his shoulders, Devin fell back to find a bunch of pillows to cushion him. He had no idea where they’d come from but sure as shit wasn’t going to dwell on it. Blood rushed to his raging appendage, the throbbing growing stronger and stronger as Luc’s tongue continued its journey down his urethra. He’d heard and seen penile sounds being used in videos before and always thought it would be painful as hell. All he could feel right now, though, was mind-blowing ecstasy like nothing he’d ever felt before.


“Cum for me, Devin. When I feel your lava-like release shooting up your cock, I’ll pull my tongue out and swallow every last drop. Give it to me, lover.”


Devin’s mind splintered as his body responded to Lucas’ command, and pulse after pulse of his fiery essence shot up the length of his dick and straight to the back of Luc’s undulating throat.


“You taste divine, lover. I could eat your spunk every day from here on out.”


Finally spent, Devin’s body slumped, his knees nearly locking beneath him. The next thing he knew Luc’s strong arms wrapped about him, and his lover helped him to stretch out on his stomach, putting a few more pillows that simply appeared under his stomach, propping his ass up in what he was sure was an inviting position.


“I’m not done with you yet, Devin. You’ve had your release, now it’s time for mine. Don’t worry, I know you’re still recovering, so I’ll do all the work again. You just recoup and enjoy for now. Later, I want to feel that fucking hot cock of yours buried deep within my ass. Later…”


With a mind clouded in euphoric bliss, Devin had a hard time processing all of Luc’s words. At this point, it really didn’t matter what the sexy guy that seemed to have mystical powers said, he wasn’t going to deny the man anything.

A knee between his calves nudged his legs open as finger tips crawled like a spider up the backs of his legs to his thighs, forcing a long, drawn-out groan from his lips.


“You want me in your ass, don’t you, Devin?”


“Hell yes, Luc! Take me, fill me…drill me with everything you’ve got.” Within seconds, Luc’s slick member began to penetrate, pushing past the tight ring of muscles until he was fully seated. Pushing back against the invasion that seemed to have lubed itself, Devin’s walls closed in, holding Luc in a vise-like grip.


Shocked surprise morphed into sublime delirium when the cock firmly entrenched in his ass suddenly felt as if it were covered with thousands of tiny tongues, all reaching out to tickle and caress his nerve-rich channel.


“Lucas, oh holy fuck. What are you doing to me?” Devin panted heavily as his once-lax dick began to awaken with a ravenous hunger.


“Why loving you of course, Devin. I’ve been waiting my whole life for you, lover.”


Those words enveloped Devin like a comforting blanket from childhood, filling his heart with warmth and affection as Luc’s enchanted cock filled his ass with blistering cum.


“I’ve been waiting my whole life for you too, Luc.”


“So you’ll stay here with me, Devin. Stay and be mine. You’ll want for nothing, I promise.”


“Yes, Lucas, I’ll stay.”

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Harper's New Release Coming Soon

COMING TO SHELVES ON JULY 29!



When four long-time friends, former college roommates who went their separate ways after graduation, decide that texts, phone calls, and weekly Skype conversations are no longer enough, they all agree a weekend get-together is in order. An invitation by the only married one in their quartet is extended, and the plans begin. As the women prepare for their no-holds barred visit to the O’Connell home, each one recalls their sexual fantasies with the group—some realized, some not, some that just barely touched the edge of the erotic vision. Even the lone male in the group recalls his prior interaction with the three soon-to-be-arriving guests. With anticipation and arousals ignited, they are all looking forward to their Risqué Reunion. But none of them are prepared for the O’Connell’s nosy neighbor. Will the voyeur next door ruin all their fun, or will they find a way to make the weekend better than any of them ever expected?

Saturday, June 14, 2014

Cover Reveal for Sarah Daltry's Primordial Dust

Book Info:

Title: Primordial Dust

Author: Sarah Daltry

Genre: Fantasy (Romance/YA)

A princess, trained to behave. An assassin, betrothed to her. A thief, whose eyes she dreams of at night. A kingdom at war, torn apart by the suppression of magic and truth, as well as family secrets that threaten to destroy decades of peace. Questions of loyalty, of morality, and of free will culminate in a fantasy novel about forging one’s own path and choosing one’s own destiny. 

Buy Links:

Amazon: Coming June 30; Amazon UK: Coming June 30 
Apple: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/primordial-dust/id882966210?mt=11  
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/primordial-dust-sarah-daltry/1119608748?ean=9781498998468  
Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/primordial-dust-1  
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/441741  
All Romance: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-primordialdust-1522644-153.html

 

Excerpt:

 
There are no woods in Demoria, so our hunt is along the back of the city, in a massive canyon. Demorians do not ride, as the area is not very large to traverse, but they do use the uneven terrain to their advantage. We settle in behind a mossy boulder and look out over the expanse. Wild dogs prowl through the trenches; rabbits scamper along elevated knolls. “Demoria is not so bad when it’s behind me,” I say. The vast landscape is beautiful in the shifting pinks and purples of dawn. It felt the same way yesterday afternoon atop the lighthouse. “That is how most things are in life,” Seamus concedes. He places his gun on the ground and unpacks his bag. He reveals a box of tarts in ten different flavors. Damn. “Not fair,” I say, already stuffing my face with passion fruit tart. “I did my research.” We sit in pleasant, tart-filled silence for a while, fruit pastries winning over my taste buds. They are less recalcitrant than my stubborn heart. Sanara is right; Seamus is kind of cute. He has a boyish charm, especially for someone who has probably seen things I could never even imagine. “How many people have you killed?” I’m not known for my tact. “Too many to count,” he answers quickly, not ashamed. “Don't you ever think about who they were? Doesn't it bother you?” “I know each of their names. I know who they were, and I know who was left behind when I did my job.” He’s defiant. I don't really blame him. He is a Demorian; killing is what he does. “Still, I mean, just because someone tells you to kill someone...” “I was ready to get you this morning, with exactly the right kind of bow and arrows, and a box of tarts, because I did not sleep for more than a couple hours. As charming as you are, that was not because my heart was all a-flutter at seeing you. It was because a good night is four hours.” “So why do it?” “Because someone has to, and it was destined to be me.” “I don't believe in fate. We make our own destinies,” I argue. “It is easier to say that when you are not trained to be an assassin,” he counters. Silence settles back over us. I think about what he says. Would I be who I am if I’d been raised differently? Does being born somewhere or being of a certain blood dictate the person each of us becomes? I can’t picture a different me somewhere, destined to marry and doing it because it was the assigned path I would take. Although maybe he’s right. None of my choices have involved considering the fate of another human being. If he admits that he had any control over his own life, he admits that he made the choice to murder someone else. That would be unbearable, and I empathize with his conviction that some part of our lives is set out for us before we start. “I need to be back early. Tonight is a big deal.” “Ah yes, our betrothal debut.” His tone is mocking, but it’s not an angry mockery. “It doesn't bother you, does it? Marrying me?” “I’m lucky to be engaged to you. I understand why you don't feel the same.” He packs up the rest of the tarts and stands. Bending over, he offers his hand to assist me in getting up. I am on my feet quickly, but I don’t let go of his hand right away. “Seamus, it isn't you. Of the potential mates my parents have proposed, you are the best of them.” It’s the only thing I can provide him, but it’s true. Under different circumstances, he may have even been my own choice.

 

Dream Cast:

 

pdcast

 

About the Author:


Sarah Daltry writes about the regular people who populate our lives. She's written works in various genres - romance, erotica, fantasy, horror. Genre isn't as important as telling a story about people and how their lives unfold. Sarah tends to focus on YA/NA characters but she's been known to shake it up. Most of her stories are about relationships - romantic, familial, friendly - because love and empathy are the foundation of life. It doesn't matter if the story is set in contemporary NY, historical Britain, or a fantasy world in the future - human beings are most interesting in the ways they interact with others. This is the principle behind all of Sarah's stories. Sarah has spent most of her life in school, from her BA and MA in English and writing to teaching both at the high school and college level. She also loves studying art history and really anything because learning is fun. When Sarah isn't writing, she tends to waste a lot of time checking the Internet for pictures of cats, shooting virtual zombies, and simply staring out the window. She has written several books, most notably Bitter Fruits, an urban fantasy in the Eden’s Fall series, Backward Compatible: A Geek Love Story, and the six book New Adult Flowering series, including Forget Me Not, Lily of the Valley, Blue Rose, Star of Bethlehem, Orange Blossom, and Ambrosia. 

Social Media Links:
  

Top Ten: Sarah’s Favorite Novels (as of this moment in time):
  1. The Sun Also Rises – Ernest Hemingway
  2. The Catcher in the Rye – JD Salinger
  3. Neverwhere – Neil Gaiman
  4. Days of Blood and Starlight – Laini Taylor
  5. Some Girls Are – Courtney Summers
  6. Monsters of Men – Patrick Ness
  7. Delirium – Lauren Oliver
  8. The Book Thief – Markus Zusak
  9. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows – JK Rowling
  10. Thirteen Little Blue Envelopes – Maureen Johnson
     

ENTER THE GIVEAWAY!

 

 

 

Thursday, June 5, 2014

Sarah Daltry's Flowering Series Concludes

AMBROSIA
THE EXCITING CONCLUSION
TO SARAH DALTRY'S 
FLOWER SERIES
IS NOW ON SHELVES


Introducing Sarah Daltry's Flowering series, a contemporary New Adult series about finding yourself through love. Please find the synopses and trailers for each of the six titles below. Reading order is suggested in the order the books were written, but no book has a cliffhanger and each can be read independent of the others. The titles are Forget Me Not (Lily’s story), Lily of the Valley (Jack’s story), Blue Rose (Alana’s story), Star of Bethlehem (holiday novella), Orange Blossom (one year later), and Ambrosia (the conclusion). 


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Buy Links

An In-Depth Interview With Sarah


Tell us your latest news. 
I don’t have news right now, since I’m trying to keep to myself. I’m still writing, but there is just too much happening to really say more than that I’m writing and I’m here.

When did you first consider yourself a writer?
I don’t consider myself a writer. I write because I have to. I write because I can’t not write. To be a writer, I feel like I would need to be confident in my work and think that it mattered if I did write. But it matters to me and I write because the characters are real to me and it burns inside of me to put their thoughts down. It’s cathartic and I write because it’s what keeps me alive from day to day.

What inspired you to write your book?
My books are all inspired by characters. No story comes to me without the voice first. The character speaks to me and asks me to write his or her story and I do.

Do you have a specific writing style?
Realistic, I suppose. Even in fantasy or genres based in suspended reality, I break stories down to the emotions and thoughts that make us human and make us struggle to get out of bed and keep breathing, because those thoughts and feelings are why we exist.

How did you come up with the title?
The Flowering series is called that because it’s about growing, about blossoming into yourself as you get older. Each title is a flower and it’s symbolic to the themes of that particular book. Bitter Fruits comes from “Cain” by Lord Byron, because the story deals with the Biblical tale of Cain and Abel. Backward Compatible is a gaming term and the book is about gamers. Quiver of a Kiss is from a poem about Helen of Troy by Sara Teasdale and The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock is the name of Eliot’s poem that I used as inspiration for the novella. The erotica titles are what they are.

Is there a message in your novels that you want readers to grasp?
From Flowering, the basic message is that we don’t fall in love because we need someone else to change us. We fall in love because we need someone to help us find us.

What books have most influenced your life most?
The Sun Also Rises and The Catcher in the Rye.

If you had to choose, which writer would you consider a mentor?
Hemingway or Courtney Summers.

What book are you reading now?
I’m in the middle of several things. I went back to reread A Movable Feast, because Hemingway feels therapeutic.

Are there any new authors that have grasped your interest?
I really like Laini Taylor, although she’s not really new.

What are your current projects?
I am finishing Ambrosia and then I need to finish the Eden’s Fall trilogy. I am working on several other things, but I haven’t decided what the next step is with them. A couple I really enjoy writing, but I don’t know how comfortable I am publishing and I’ve had a hard enough time with Flowering. I don’t know if I can continue to display my soul in that way. I may try to write something that I feel distant from.

Is there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?
I’m a painfully shy person and I hate displaying my feelings. It’s really hard to break yourself apart repeatedly, to put your own pain and fear and insecurities onto paper, and then to have to give that to someone who has no concept of the road you’ve walked for judgment. I don’t know if I like people reading my work. I like it when I know that I have been able to speak to someone who has felt that seem desperation, because it’s what inspired me to publish these books in the first place, but I also don’t think I’m emotionally in a place where I can just brush off ignorant remarks about what I’ve seen.

Who is your favorite author and what is it that really strikes you about their work?
Hemingway and Courtney Summers for the same reason. When I read their work, I feel like someone out there understands that fear and anxiety of living and yet is able to give a slight hint as to why it’s impossible to give up.

What was the hardest part of writing your book?
Facing my own demons.

Do you have anything specific that you want to say to your readers?
Thank you for reading.

How long does it take you to write a book?
It depends. I won’t write certain things if I’m not invested in them. So there are times when I’m singularly focused on one title and other times when I am struggling to write 1000 words in a few WIPs.

What is your work schedule like when you're writing?
I’ve been trying to put writing toward the bottom of my list of priorities lately, so I work and then I focus on getting better and, if time allows, I write when I have something to say and I want to write.

What would you say is your interesting writing quirk?
I don’t think I have any. I’m really not an interesting person.

What paranormal creature would you be and why?
Vampire. I would like to live forever, because I want to experience history.

What would you do if you didn’t have to work?
Write more.

What did you want to be when you were 10 years old?
A writer.

What makes you laugh?
My husband and my cats.

If aliens landed in front of you and, in exchange for anything you desire, offered you any position on their planet, what would you want?
Accountant. I like math.

If you could be any character in fiction, who would you be?
I don’t think I would want to be any characters in fiction, because I read books about people who struggle and I know enough of that in my own life.

If Hollywood made a movie about your life, whom would you like to see play the lead role as you?
Aubrey Plaza. Or Claire Danes from My So-Called Life.

If you could be a superhero, what would you want your superpowers to be?
Mind control. I would want to make people see and learn to walk in someone else’s shoes.

If someone wrote a biography about you, what do you think the title should be?
Fuck This. I’m Out.

If you had six months with no obligations or financial constraints, what would you do with the time?
Travel. Write.

If you could have dinner with anyone from history, who would it be, and why?
Hemingway and I would ask him how to keep going. It wouldn’t be the best advice, I realize, as he shot himself with an elephant gun, but I want to know how he made it as long as he did.

If you could compare yourself with any animal, which would it be and why?
A turtle, because I keep myself in my shell as much as I can, I can be slow at getting where I need to go (existentially, not necessarily physically although I’m no sprinter, either), and because they often go unnoticed due to their being less exciting than other animals.

If you won $20 million in the lottery, what would you do with the money?
Travel. Put it in savings and write. Help someone and save animals.

If you were a Star Wars character, which one would you be?
I like R2-D2.

What kind of people do you dislike?
People who can’t see the world outside of their own field of vision.

What makes you angry?
Cruelty. I can’t understand deliberately hurting anyone or anything. Why? There is so much darkness in the world. Why contribute to it? Why not at least try to make someone’s burden lighter? When I die, I don’t want to look back on the pain I caused; I want to believe I made someone’s life better somehow.


The Books in the Series

Forget Me Not (Lily's Story)



This is a coming of age story, but it isn’t always sweet and innocent. If dirty talk, bedroom toys, and threesomes offend you… this is not your book. “No one tells you when you start school just how homesick you will be, or how hard it will be to start life over with no direction and no friends or family. No one says that becoming your own person is terrifying.” I never wanted anything but Derek, my brother’s best friend. When I chose a college, it didn’t seem to matter that he would be an hour away. We could survive it. After all, we were in love. But almost immediately, things change between us. I blame myself. Maybe I’m just not sure how to be a girlfriend and independent. Life seems to be getting away from me – and then there’s Jack, the guy down the hall. He’s rude and vulgar and my parents would be shocked by him, yet every single time I see him, I feel like I’m being pulled toward him. It’s physical, sure, but there’s something in Jack’s eyes – and I want to know him. I know I don’t always make the right choices, and I’m the only person at fault when everything falls apart. How do I tell Derek, the guy who was supposed to be everything, that I don’t feel like fighting for him anymore? And do I run to Jack, when I know his past is way too much for me to handle when I’ve just turned 19? Finally, where do I end up in all of this? Can I be more than just someone else’s idea of what I should be? 


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Lily of the Valley (Jack's Story)

  
Jack’s story isn’t pretty. He’s suicidal, depressed, and he uses meaningless sex and alcohol to survive. However, the story is about finding light in the darkness, but sometimes the road there isn’t always easy to walk. “No one tells you about pain. They tell you that it hurts, that sometimes it’s consuming. What they don’t tell you is that it’s not the pain that can kill you. It’s the uncomfortable numbness that follows, the weakness in your body when you realize your lungs may stop taking in air and you just can’t exert enough energy to care. It’s the way taste and color and smell fade from the world and all you’re left with is a sepia print of misery. That’s when the shift starts – the movement from passive to active. I fall asleep, hoping that the morning will bring back the pain. At least the pain is a thing.” I’m a plague, a cancer. My mom is dead – and my father is in prison for it. I survived high school because college was my way out. I needed to escape, to get away from my family and the people who tortured me, but it hasn’t grown any easier. I don’t pretend that I’m a good person. I drink far more than I should, and I use my best friend, Alana, because together, we thrive on destroying each other – as well as the parts of us we hate. I don’t believe in love, but sex is fun and it also makes me feel something. The morning I see Lily, the beautiful princess who smells inexplicably like strawberries every time I see her, I realize I’m in trouble. I should hate her. I want to hate her, because the alternative terrifies me. However, as she continues to crash into my life (often literally), I can’t avoid feeling something that is the one thing I swore I would never feel. I can’t fall in love, because people like me don’t live in a world where love saves anyone. She just won’t go away, though, and I don’t know if I can keep running. The voices and the darkness hover over me and they threaten to bring me back to the safety of my hate, but the stupid scent of strawberries lingers on the horizon, as something like hope. 


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Blue Rose (Alana's Story) 



Warning: This book deals with topics of abuse and may trigger reactions in people who have experienced those things in their own lives. It remains a story about healing, but it’s not always an easy journey. “Four. My life has been shaped by four people. Four men, to be more specific. My father, my stepfather, my best friend, and my boyfriend. The first two shaped it in horrible ways, but what I am, who I am, is all because of four men.” Over the last twenty years, I’ve learned how to keep secrets. It doesn’t really matter, since everyone already seems to think they know everything about me. So I hide. I avoid confrontation, I treat Xanax like a magic pill that will make it all go away, and I become everything they think I am. A slut. A whore. Nothing but trash. I can only name two guys who have ever made me feel like I was more than that. Jack is my best friend and I’ve loved him since I met him. Now, though, he’s in love… with someone else, and I guess I need to get over him. Somehow. And then there’s Dave. The guy I never gave a chance. The guy I used almost as much as people used me, because I wanted to pretend I was someone worth loving. Two years have passed since we last spoke, but I don’t know how to stop thinking about him. My new therapist is making me face my past, and she tells me that life inevitably changes without our permission. I believe it, but I know what I am. I hear what she’s saying to me, and I want to try again with Dave, to help Jack find joy, to love myself, and to move on. I just wonder if anyone can do that, really. 


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 Star of Bethlehem


 
This is a holiday novella-length story that follows Forget Me Not and Lily of the Valley. “With you, Jack, it was the first time I ever felt real. It was the first time anyone looked at me and saw substance. It was the first time I wanted to make someone see me.” Jack: New Year’s Eve. I’ve somehow managed to get here, and now I’m wearing a hideous and unreasonably itchy sweater, because I want to impress Lily’s family. I want to do anything for this girl who has made me believe in second chances. Lily: The house is beautiful and shining with light, but it feels empty. At least until Jack gets here. I know how desperately he wants this – a family, love, a home. If I can be the person who can give it to him, it’s all I need, but I hope I can keep him from seeing how hollow it all really is.


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Orange Blossom



“I’ve never understood a year. A year was always a measurement of something bad for me. A year in my father’s prison sentence, a year since my mom’s death, a year left of school before I could get far, far away from here. Now, as I look down the end of my college career, with only a little more than a semester to go, a year seems like something magical. It has been a year since Lily chose me, since she sat with me on the old swing set and made a decision that I was worthy of her. And every minute of the entire year has been better than the last.” You already know their stories: Lily, the perfect princess, always living someone else’s life. And Jack, the broken boy, who had stopped believing in hope. Somehow, though, they found each other and what was one night blossomed into a love story. Now, a year later, Jack and Lily are dreaming of the future. Despite all of his promises to himself that he would never be indebted to anyone, Jack makes a new promise – this time to Lily – that he will be there for her forever. But when life unravels for them, he starts to pull away, and Lily worries he’s out of reach for good. When Jack does the unthinkable, Lily is left destroyed. Is it possible to have a happily ever after? Does love ever really save anyone? 


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Ambrosia 


Four years. One night that was supposed to be an escape turned into four years. And now, four years is about to turn into forever. Lily was never anything special. A perfect girl from a perfect world living an empty life. She was lost, thinking she knew who she was and what she wanted. She thought she knew love, but then there was a boy. Jack has been through Hell. Watching his mother die - at his father’s hands - will never leave him. He had given up on living a life, figuring he would drink himself to death, if he didn’t give in to all the voices telling him to kill himself first. And then there was a girl who smelled like strawberries. Two years have passed since Orange Blossom. Jack and Lily are only months away from their wedding and their journey is about to come to an end. Join them in the final title in the Flowering series, a story of growing up, of finding yourself, and of “blooming.” 


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PURCHASE LINKS FOR AMBROSIA