I'm fangirling hard today (Lorix) because one of my favourite ever authors is in the clubhouse. Our July AOTM, Anyta Sunday, has stopped by. And with her she brings exciting things...I squeed when I read it! I'm just going to sit in the corner and fangirl away quietly while Anyta takes over...
Dear Boy Meets Boy Reviews,
You ROCK!
Congrats on a successful year, and all the
best for the years to come. Thank you for inviting me back to share in the
celebrations.
I have five free electronic copies of rock to give away to readers of this
lovely blog. Additionally, I penned a little scene from Jace’s point-of-view.
His side of the story is begging to be unleashed . . . below is a snippet.
Hugs,
Tulip Sparkle Head
(Anyta Sunday)
You rock too!!! *wiggles excitedly for the next bit*
Jace
Thick green moss clings to a gnarled
tree. I lean against the trunk and slide until my ass hits its roots and silver
ferns swipe over my knees. Cool and damp, and hidden from the rest of my
family.
I fumble between the grooves
of tree roots, fingers skating over bark and dirt. A stone. Need a stone.
Need a reason to stop hiding.
A reason to man-up and
apologize.
Shit.
I knock my head back against
the trunk. Dickweed was apt.
A gray pebble peeks out under
my shoe. I kick it closer and whip it into the stream as if it the splash will
erase the memory of Cooper frowning and spinning away.
Rocks aren’t stupid. I didn’t mean it. Just that . . .
I toss another pebble.
Didn’t help.
“Shit.” The word fogs the air
and stretches toward the moss-carpeted soil, toward the babbling creek, toward
Annie and Cooper searching the brush for dry kindle.
Distant laughter curls
through sparse wood: Mum and Dad. I imagine them at the bonfire pit, Dad on his
knees cursing as he tries to light a fire.
My fingers comb over a hard
stone. I lift it. The brown is deep, surface rough, but spherical is
interesting, right?
I close my hand around it as
footsteps approach my side. Annie emerges from behind a sprawling branch, cradling
an armful of kindling. Her loose hair snags on one of the twigs.
She spots me and startles,
almost dropping her load. “Jace!”
“Annie.”
Her surprise clouds into a glare.
“Yeah-yeah,” I say. “I’ll
apologize.” I open my hand and show her the rock. “See? Not stupid.”
“Why’d you say it then?”
Annie asks.
Because those damn rocks are
haunting my sleep. Gray, brown, blue . . . green. Green flecked with hazel, one slightly brighter than the other . . .
“’Cause I’m a dickweed.”
Annie peers at the stone,
draws nearer, and inspects it. The edges of her lips twitch—am I forgiven?
“Tell him it’s from the bottom of your heart.”
The soft crumple and pop of
moss, and Cooper rounds Annie, hugging even more twigs. His gaze narrows on me—a
scowl mirrored with a tight shot of something
curling in my stomach. Twig ends poke his chin as he speaks. “From the bottom
of his heart?”
Annie laughs and pushes
between us. Foliage sways as she cuts a path toward the camping ground.
Cooper watches me. Dusk
tunnels through the canopy of leaves above us; pockets of warmth highlight the
copper strands in his blond hair and the side of his firmly set lips.
My throat is tight, and I
choke on a cough.
Flailing for words, I hold
out my hand toward him and the stone rolls on my palm.
He glances toward it, then
back at me.
“Sorry, Coop.”
He opens his mouth to say
something and closes it again. His gaze darts once more to the stone. A grin
lights his face and suddenly all those pockets of burnt amber light are pooling
in my stomach.
A relieved breath lightens me.
The moss around us catches
and softens his snort. “I accept your apology,” he says, and with a pointed
look at the stone, “but you can keep the turd.”
“Turd?” I frown. Roll the
brown stone—“Shit!” I fling it into a silver fern.
Cooper backs away, hooting. “Exactly.”
I scramble to my feet, wiping
my palm against the mossy trunk. “Think that’s funny? Wait till I get my hands
on you, see you laugh then!”
I lunge at him and Cooper
snickers again, stumbling backwards, dropping his twigs.
He dodges my outstretched
hands and hesitates, glancing from my hands to the twigs between us.
With a grin, I leap. Cooper
falls back into a bed of moss and rolls with the downward slope toward the
creek. I pounce again and he shrieks, his chest contorting with hiccupping
chuckles.
My foot catches on a
protruding root and this time my hands plummeting toward him is no joke. Angling
my fall, palms skid either side of his head but my chest thumps against his.
Bouts wrack through his body
and echo in mine, urging me to laugh harder, harder, harder. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
“Did . . . both those,” he
says in snatches against my neck.
Our bodies shift as I lift my
weight. I pause, looking at Cooper with his eyes squished shut, cheeks flushed,
lips curled.
He opens his eyes and blinks.
He cocks his head, laughter subsiding, and my heart bangs against my chest as his
gaze roots deeply—
I scramble away. Away from what
started this whole thing.
Away from his green eyes
flecked with hazel, one slightly brighter than the other . . .
Wow, wow, wow...Thank you so much Anyta Sunday!
Igneous.
When Cooper’s parents divorce, he finds himself landed in Week About—one week with his mum and one week with his dad.
Only, it’s not just his dad he has to live with. There’s Lila, too: The other woman, the one who stole the rock-solid foundation of his life.
And then ...
There’s Jace. Lila’s son. Lila’s smug, regurgitated-fish-scale-blue eyed son.
All Cooper wants is to have his family back the way it once was, but there’s something about this boy that promises things will never be the same again.
Sedimentary.
Resisting the realities of his new life, Cooper and Jace get off to a rocky start. But rocky start or not, after hundreds of shared memories together, they forge something new. A close ... friendship.
Because friendship is all they can have. Although it’s not like they arereal brothers...
Metamorphic.
But how does that friendship evolve under the pressures of life?
As Anyta mentioned, she is offering up some copies of Rock (IMO, one of the very best books out this year). In Rock, Cooper collects rocks, they are a very important part of his life. So, what we're asking you today is, what hobbies do you have? Five - yes FIVE - winners will be chosen at random one week from today. The competition closes at midday GMT on Saturday December 6th.
To enter please leave a comment on this blog post telling us about your hobbies and let us know your name and a means of contacting you (e.g., email, Twitter handle, link to Goodreads account, etc.)
A winner will be contacted no later than December 10th, whom we will have selected using a highly scientific "names in a hat" method (or, you know, an internet randomiser).
Good luck!!
To find out more about Anyta Sunday, visit her Goodreads page.
