Collector Of Book Boyfriends

Avery Rylee never went to her high school prom. It is one of her biggest life regrets. Now, at the age of twenty-four, Avery has many more regrets. She is stuck in a rut with her career and she has just been dumped by her fiance. After a night of cheap wine and hitting rock bottom, all Avery wants to do is lie in bed at home with a gallon of ice cream, but her three best friends have other ideas. They have planned a cross country road trip to a prom to help Avery start over. Step one is an Ex-Bachelorette Party in Vegas to help Avery try and forget her ex-fiance. Instead of forgetting him, though Avery finds herself the star of her own web series. As a result, she goes on a filmed hunt across America to find a prom dress, a hot date, and a pair of amazing shoes. Will Avery be able to heal her heartbreak, survive internet reality show fame, and have the perfect prom?

Prom Stories and the Idea Behind Crashing Prom

I know I’m not the only girl who loves prom stories. That’s obvious by the fact that prom stories show up all over the place in TV, movies, and books. There’s just something magical about that high school dance. Even the guys I’ve talked to about prom have a story about it. I find that interesting. Most guys I know now could care less about things like dances. Still, if you ask them about their prom some of them have really strong thoughts about it, especially if their date hooked up with another guy. Eek! Drama!

Prom is usually one of the go to places for things to happen in YA books. That is why I wanted to write a NA book with prom at its center. It’s a little different and to me that sounded interesting.

So, I started to think about my own experiences and my prom story. I went to my prom with a friend. It was just okay. I actually remember talking to my friend in the bathroom about it and how prom had been overhyped. She agreed with me, which surprised me. She was there with her ex-boyfriend, who she totally kept making out with, so in some ways her night was actually going way better than mine even though she didn’t think it was the perfect magical night either. In the end my date and I did have fun, but it was just alright. I really wish I could have gone with a guy I was head over heels for. Then it would have been amazing. I wanted that prom moment. Heck, I’d still like it. I think everyone planning for their prom wants that outcome.

So, to me, it seems like you’d want the same things from your prom, no matter what your age. You’d want the dress, the shoes, the limo, and the totally amazing hot date. I even googled more prom stories just to see other opinions and experiences. There’s fake proms for adults thrown in Los Angeles. You literally pretend you’re going to prom. I also found some news articles about a retirement home having a prom. See? You’re really never too old for prom!

So, I decided. Crashing Prom was going to be about how my main character, Avery Rylee, got to her prom and all of the fun things that go with it, even though she was twenty-four and well past prom age. It’s a prom story, but it’s about the journey to the prom. Maybe that’s why prom is so huge in our minds. It is the last dance of high school. It’s the end of an era, a celebration of it really, since it’s usually just weeks before graduation. Our high school experience was the journey to it. It’s all about getting there and, of course, having the best night ever!

MILDA HARRIS has a dog named after a piece of candy (Licorice), was once hit by a tree (seriously), and wears hot pink sunglasses (why not?). She is the young adult author of Doppelganger, Adventures in Funeral Crashing, Adventures of a Graveyard Girl, The New Girl Who Found A Dead Body, and Connected: A Paranormal Romance. She also works in production on television shows like Austin & Ally, Hannah Montana, and That’s So Raven.

This Christmas isn’t about celebration for eighteen-year-old Kyndra, it’s about survival. Grieving the loss of her grandmother and struggling with the indifference of her family, Kyndra now splits her time between her dead-end mall job, her junkie ex-boyfriend’s bed, and the streets. Longing to be close to her grandmother one more time, she wanders into Christmas Eve mass and prays she’ll find the place she belongs. Home.

Aidan isn’t ready to let go of the past either, even though he’s had nearly three hundred years to do it. He chronicles the search for the reincarnation of his beloved wife as the vampire romance author Allison Duprois. Aidan knows the wife he mourns is out there, but fears writing their story is as close as he will get to her.

At Christmas Eve mass, he finally finds her. Alone, with no place to go.

Aidan brings Kyndra into his home, and gives her the safety, comfort and love she longs for. Though he gives her second chances she never thought she’d have, Kyndra still can’t get over Aidan’s mysterious past. Not to mention that he claims that he’s a vampire. Life alone on the streets is dangerous enough without handing her trust and love to the wrong person. Can Aidan break through the walls around Kyndra’s hardened heart to convince her that she belongs with him, forever?

“Do you want to go out on the deck?” he asked. He hadn’t even broken a sweat dancing. I definitely was glistening.

“It’s almost midnight. Will we miss the countdown?” After such a great night, I didn’t want the New Year to start without us.

“We’ll hear it. Come on.” We had to weave through the crowd, which seemed to have blossomed while we danced. Only a few people were on the deck when we stepped out, the cool night keeping the celebration inside, even though the deck had heat lamps.

“It’s so beautiful out here,” I marveled as I held on to the railing and looked out at the city.

“It is.” Aidan brought his fingers under my chin, and turned my face toward his. He wasn’t looking at the view. He wasn’t looking at anything but me. Even with the cold, I wanted to melt.

“They’re doing the countdown!” someone near the door exclaimed. “Ten…nine…eight.”

“Happy New Year, Kyndra.” Aidan caressed my jawline. “Here’s to new beginnings.”

“To new beginnings,” I forced myself to say, only taking my eyes off of Aidan as the crowd erupted, signaling midnight had arrived. I looked back at him and smiled.

His other hand slipped around my waist, pulling me into his body. He tipped my chin up, and then his hand moved back over my hair. I put my hands around his neck, being so close to him I didn’t have anywhere else to put them, even if I had wanted to do anything else but kiss him. I closed my eyes as he leaned in, his lips landing softly on mine. I parted my own, letting his tongue explore my mouth shyly, and I held on to him for dear life. My whole body relaxed against his. Aidan’s hand rubbed my lower back, and I sighed against his lips.

We stayed out on the deck, kissing for what seemed like hours. Everyone else had disappeared. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the lights come on in the lounge.

“We should head out,” Aidan said, his voice raspy. He rubbed my arms. “You must be freezing.”

“Not really.”

“You have goosebumps.” Aidan shook his head slightly. “I’m the worst suitor ever.”

Suitor? Part of me wanted to giggle at him using such an old fashioned word, but the rest of me wanted to die a little that Aidan might really consider this a real date. Not just having too much wine and making out with his roommate.

I’d always heard that what you did at midnight on New Year’s Eve set the pace for the rest of the year. If that was true, this year promised to blow the last out of the water.

A Soundtrack for Silent Night

I realized as I put this list together that it looks like I wrote the world’s most emo Christmas story.  This book is very close to me, and a lot of this is my story.  It was a book I had to write.  I wrote it at Christmas time, when all the emotions were in my face, no matter how hard I tried to run from them. Silent Night is a book about finding out where you belong.  And it’s not always where you expect.

As heavy as this all sounds, there are a lot of light moments, and a happily forever after.

1. Hosier—Take Me To Church. This song didn’t exist when I wrote this book. Besides the pretty literal connection with the plot, the lyrics really connect with Kyndra and Aidan’s story as well.
2. The Rasmus—The Funeral Song (The Resurrection). I love The Rasmus, and I wish more people knew about them. They’re full of gothy goodness. This is a hauntingly beautiful song, and perfect for Silent Night. “I died in my dreams, reaching out for your hand, my fatal desire.”
3. I’ll Be Home For Christmas. The song that can reduce me to tears at just the thought of it.
4. O, Holy Night. The most beautiful Christmas song, ever. Not up for discussion.
5. The Rasmus—Immortal. Because we should all be listing to more of The Rasmus.
6. The Rasmus—Keep Your Heart Broken. See #5.
7. Bon Jovi—It’s Hard Letting You Go. If you’re familiar with me, you know that none of my soundtracks can be considered complete without some Jovi goodness.
8. Garbage–#1 Crush. Aidan’s been looking for the reincarnation of his wife, and believes in Kyndra, he’s found her. However, he’s not as creepy as this song.
9. Marilyn Manson—Tainted Love. It just fits.
10. Bon Jovi—Silent Night. Oh yeah, I did it. I like to name my books after song titles, hence The Night Songs Collection. But it’s absolutely, positively perfect. Someone left a review on another one of my books that started out with “What if what you always wanted is nothing like you imagined?” I think that sums up this song and this book perfectly.  Plus, if you can get past the 1985-ness of this video, my God, were Jon and Richie beautiful.

Kristen shares a birthday with Steven Tyler and Diana Ross. She spends each day striving to be half as fabulous as they are. She’s worn many hats, none as flattering as her cowboy hat: banker, retail manager, fledgling web designer, world’s worst cocktail waitress, panty slinger, now makeup artist and author. She loves sunshine, live music, the middle of nowhere, and finding new things to put in her house.

For Indigo Stevens, ballet classes at Miss Roberta’s ballet studio offer the stability and structure that are missing from her crazy home life. At almost 16, she hopes this is the year she will be accepted into the New York School of Ballet. First she must prove she’s ready, and that means ignoring Jesse Sanders – the cute boy with dimples who is definitely at the top of Miss Roberta’s List of Forbidden Things for Dancers.

But Jesse is the least of Indigo’s concerns. When she discovers her mom is an alcoholic, it simultaneously explains everything and heaps more worry on Indigo’s shoulders. As her mom’s behavior becomes increasingly erratic, Indigo fights to maintain balance, protect her younger brothers from abuse, and keep her mother from going over the edge. When the violence at home escalates, Indigo realizes she can no longer dance around the issue. At the risk of losing everything, she must take matters into her own hands before it’s too late.

A Day in The Life of Professional Ballet Student Indigo Stevens

Like all dancers at the New York School of Ballet, Indigo has a lot of work to do. Like any dancer at the top ballet school in the country her days are filled with ballet classes, rehearsals, and other add-ons like Pilates or yoga class. But she’s also a high school student, with all the same school requirements as anyone else. Add all of these things together and every day is a very long day.

Indigo is one of the lucky ones;  the ballet studio and her home and school are all within walking distance so she doesn’t have to factor in (or deal with) public transportation (which is often unreliable at best). However, life still gets complicated with all the back and forth between NYSB and her school. She has to change back and forth from street clothes to ballet clothes each time, which adds to the complication (plus it’s not easy yanking off sweaty tights quickly).

Finding time to eat is also a challenge, but Indigo has learned to carry light snacks she can munch on the fly. Some of her favorites include energy bars (only if they are low in sugar and have a short list of ingredients), mixed nuts, dried fruit, and yogurt.

It’s only possible for her to attend school for two periods each day due to her heavy ballet schedule. Her school offers a work-around: home study courses. While this may seem like a great solution it means Indigo often has hours of homework after she gets home from a long day at the ballet studio.

It’s a good thing she loves what she does, otherwise she might not be able to keep up with her life. On her toughest days she turns to her favorite guilty pleasure: a frozen yogurt topped with carob chips and coconut.

Here is a typical day for Indigo:

6am: wake up. Sew ribbons on multiple pairs of pointe shoes while munching on health-conscious breakfast.

6:30am: contrast bath right foot to help heal tendonitis flare-up.

6:45am: pack dance bag, make sure to bring snacks, multiple sets of practice clothes, Tiger Balm to put on sore muscles.

6:55 am: finish English essay, half-written before falling asleep mid-sentence.

7:30 am: get dressed

7:40 am: put hair up in bun

8:10 am: load school back pack, walk ½ mile to school.

8:30-9:30 am: attend first period, hand in English essay.

9:35 am: walk ½ mile to NYSB.

10-11:30 am: morning class, studio A.

11:35 am: change back to street clothes

11:40 am: lunch on the fly while walking ½ mile back to school.

12:10-1:15 pm: Pre-Calculus with Dr. Phelps. Struggle to keep eyes open.

1:20 pm: walk ½ mile back to NYSB.

2:30-4 pm: Variations class with Madame Glinka

4:15-5:15pm: Pilates strength training

5:15pm: power snack

5:30-6:30 pm: Serenade rehearsal

6:35pm: change back to street clothes

6:45pm: walk ½ mile home

7:15-9:15pm: eat deli sushi while reading & completing assignment for History correspondence course

9:15-10:45pm: complete homework for pre-calculus, biology, French

10:45pm: bath

11:05pm: bed

Final stats:

total hours danced: 5 hours

total hours of school: 5 1/2 hours

total miles walked: 2 miles

As you can see, each day is jam-packed. Keep in mind dance classes are mandatory six days per week, with Sundays as the only day off, so there’s not much free time. But when this is the life you’ve chosen it’s a tough but thrilling ride.

Grier Cooper has performed on three out of seven continents with companies such as San

Francisco Ballet, Miami City Ballet, and Pacific Northwest Ballet, totaling more than thirty years of experience as a dancer, teacher and performer.

She blogs about dance in the San Francisco Bay Area and has interviewed and photographed a diverse collection dancers and performers including Clive Owen, Nicole Kidman, Glen Allen Sims and Jessica Sutta. She is the author of Build a Ballerina Body and the new ballet-based young adult novel, WISH.  Grier can be reached through her website at http://www.griercooper.com

Grier began ballet lessons at age five and left home at fourteen to study at the School of American Ballet in New York. She has performed on three out of seven continents with companies such as San Francisco Ballet, Miami City Ballet, and Pacific Northwest Ballet, totaling more than thirty years of experience as a dancer, teacher and performer.

Her work has been praised as “poignant and honest” with “emotional hooks that penetrate deeply.” She writes and blogs about dance in the San Francisco Bay Area and has interviewed and photographed a diverse collection dancers and performers including Clive Owen, Nicole Kidman, Glen Allen Sims and Jessica Sutta. She is the author of Build a Ballerina Body and The Daily Book of Photography.

Ava McKenzie is a creature of habit. Life is passing her by and she has nothing to show for it. She’s had the same job since she started college, she orders the same dish every time she goes to her favorite restaurant, and only reads books from authors she knows. There is nothing new or surprising in her life… until her best friend marries a man from London. When her newlywed friend asks her to house-sit while she honeymoons, Ava jumps at the chance. She thinks this could be the very thing she needs to shake up her life. Ava throws herself head first into her new lifestyle; she wants to try everything, go everywhere, and never get stuck in a rut again. Of course, offing a man in a car garage hadn’t been one of the things on her list to try.

Owen Walker spends every day in a new place with a new case. As one of the most renowned assassins in the world, he has his choice of marks—and he’s never failed in a mission. When a new hit takes him back to his hometown, he looks forward to spending time somewhere familiar. What he isn’t expecting is to help an attractive, confused American woman find out how she’s ended up on a hit man’s list.

As Ava and Owen dodge bullets, will they be able to escape their undeniable attraction to each other? Or will all of that chemistry blow up in a shower of hot and dangerous sparks?

I twisted the steering wheel sharply as I exited the garage and almost knocked over the doorman. But he was holding a large gun in one hand and to my shock he fired directly at my window. The glass shattered, but I didn’t feel any pain, which I hoped meant I wasn’t hit. I ducked in a belated reaction and the car swerved wildly, but the gun-toting hottie next to me steadied the wheel.

“I knew that doorman didn’t like me.” I gritted my teeth. “What an asshole. He’s almost as bad as you are.”

“I’ll drive now, if you’d like.” He said it like we were taking turns on a road trip, not running for our lives. Maybe he wasn’t running for his life. But I was still running for mine. I didn’t know what this guy wanted with me. Was I supposed to just let him drive me to some creepy kill room? An image of walls draped in plastic, knives on a table, and a bed with chains filled my mind. I didn’t think so.

“Now? You want to drive now?” My voice rose with each word. “Sure, I’ll pull over at the corner for a snack and let you take over. Holy shit! Are you crazy?”

“Has anyone ever told you that for such a beautiful woman you have a very dirty mouth?” He smiled at me as my mouth worked silently. “I think I like the odd combination.”

“Fuck you.” I glared at the road.

“So does that mean you don’t want me to drive?” He nodded toward the traffic that was growing thicker. “Do you have a plan for where to go?”

“The cops.” I didn’t mention that I had no idea where they would be located. I’d just stop the first one I saw. “And you told me to get in the driver seat.”

“You’re sure you want to go to the police?” He leaned back into his seat, getting comfortable. He looked, for all the world, as if riding around in a car with a bomb attached to it was normal. “You killed a man and fled the scene in his stolen car—which has a bomb attached to it. Oh, and someone was trying to kill you. I’m sure being locked in a tiny room with nowhere to run will make their job much more difficult.”

“Maybe they were trying to kill you. I can imagine why they’d want to.” I growled and turned down a street that was one way only. And I was going the wrong way. I muttered under my breath as I dodged cars and people honked at me. “I should’ve stayed in bed today.”

“Possibly. They were very sloppy.” He pointed to a street. “You should turn here and take the roundabout.”

“Roundabout?” My heart dropped into my stomach and I broke into a cold sweat. “That seems like a bad idea.”

Roundabouts were the devil. If you’ve ever tried to drive through a roundabout after years of driving in America, you’d understand. Everything was completely backward to how you instinctually drove. It gave me an ulcer just thinking about it.

“We’re being followed. We need to lose them.” He looked at me with serious eyes. “If you want to live, we need to put distance between us and the people in the black sedan.”

“Oh, Jesus.” I jerked the wheel and our car shot down the road toward the evil traffic circle of death.

HE ACCIDENTAL ASSASSIN will be $2.99 for the first week and then the price will rise to $3.99 after December 7th. 

Nichole Chase is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of Suddenly Royal, Flukes, The Dark Betrayal Trilogy, and several short stories. She is also the instructor of Say What? a dialogue class at the Romance Academy.

Nichole lives in Georgia with her husband, energetic daughter, superhero dog, Sulcata tortoise, and two cats. When not writing, you may find her reading, painting, crafting, or chasing her daughter around the house while making monster noises.

 

One hundred days without sex? Is that even possible?

When I got offered an exchange year to the Italian art school of my dreams, I nearly cried. I could barely afford college expenses at home let alone in a foreign country. I had to decline but my rich, uptight grandmother called with her screwed up offer.

If I agreed to her conditions, she’d foot the bill. So I agreed. I figured she didn’t really care about my sex life, she just wanted me to keep my partying off the radar of her fancy friends.

I was so wrong.

The sexy but annoying Chad moved into my apartment to keep me under surveillance. He’s impervious to my charms and for some damn reason, dead set on making sure I lose this deal.

One hundred days is a helluva long time to avoid temptation – even longer when Chad becomes the temptation.

I was about to suggest heading back to my place for some quiet time when he jerked around.

“Who’s that guy?” he asked.

“What guy?”

“The one over there, glaring at us.” He backed away from me a bit. “I’m all up for some fun but if you’re not single then, sorry, not interested.”

My stomach sank as I turned around. Chad waved at me again.

“He’s no one.”

“He’s taking notes. See, he’s got a notebook out.” The barman got up off his barstool, shaking his head. “I have no idea what the situation is here but it’s too freaky for me. Catch you later.”

What the hell? Was that beefcake actually taking notes? The entertainment value of Chad had started wearing thin already.

I marched across the room.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Are you some kind of stalker?”

Chad laughed.

“Yeah, I am. A stalker paid by your grandmother.”

I folded my arms. I guess he was right.

“Were you taking notes? Because that is exceptionally creepy, you know.”

“I need evidence. I can’t just tell your grandmother that you were chatting some sleaze ball up in a bar. I’m sure you know her well enough to realise she is going to want evidence. I was about ready to get out my phone so I could get a photo when you moved in to kiss him.”

“I wasn’t!” I so was. Anything to shut him up with his motorbike talk.

“You were. I’m glad you’re so predictable, makes my job so much easier.”

What a jerk. I was not predictable. I was raunchy and provocative. And now I’d spent an hour of my life listening to motorbike talk and I’d never get that time back again. Luckily, the night was still young and there were plenty more hot bodies out there to target. I spotted someone across the room and turned to walk off.

Chad grabbed my arm. Ha, I’d gotten him jealous. The Chad, he wanted me for himself. Of course. He was only human.

“I need you to take me home,” he said.

I looked up at him through my lashes. That was just too easy but I could imagine a world of fun to be had with The Chad.

“I’m staying with you, in case you’d forgotten and I don’t have a key. I really don’t want to spend all night waiting around for you. So, you can hurry up and score with one of these losers so I can quit this job or you can leave it for another night and we can both get some sleep.”

Ouch, slap down. I fished in my bag for a key and handed it to him, trying not to let him see the disappointment on my face.

“Here,” I said, smacking the key in his hand. “Don’t wait up for me.”

As I walked off, he grabbed me again.

“I can’t go without you and I’m exhausted.”

I shrugged, he could do what he liked. I fully intended to stick around. Even if I didn’t get any action, I wasn’t going to let him control my life.

His big arms folded around me and suddenly I was in mid-air. Over Chad’s shoulder.

I kicked and screamed. Not those little girlie kicks either like you see in the movies where you know the girl really likes it even if she protests. I kicked hard and I elbowed him in the back of the neck. He didn’t put me down, he didn’t even flinch. I tried to grab a handful of his hair but he held me too tight. I would kill him as soon as he let me down. I would kick him in the nads until he screamed. Nobody treated me like that.

I yelled some more but, by this time of night, the music in the bar had gotten super loud and the conversations even louder. With the screams of girls around the pool table and shrieks of laughter, my screaming just dissolved into the crowd. Not one single person came to help me. Not one. As he walked towards the door, I caught the eye of one of the bouncers. Ha, Mr Clever Pants Chad was screwed now. No one would be allowed to get away with manhandling a woman out of the bar. It was a clear-cut case of non-consensual touching. You could tell by the way I struggled to get free that this was not a game. But the bouncer just laughed.

What a jerk. That was how girls got raped and murdered, because dumb-arse morons like him just watched and laughed. I’d be ringing my grandmother in the morning and telling her I wanted Chad off the case. No matter what.

He dumped me in the passenger seat of his car and I thought of making a run for it, back into the bar. That would show him. But he’d probably just drag me out again and I’d had enough humiliation for one night. I’d wait until I had a chance to talk to grandmother. If she was so concerned about me being in a scandal, she would not condone this behaviour.

I folded my arms, prepared to give him the silent treatment all the way home.

Jayne ran across the parking lot.

“Are you okay?” she called to me. She reached the car window, out of breath and panting. Thank god for friends who had your back. “Do you want me to call the police?”

“Thanks,” I said. “I think this jerk just wants to take me home. In the separate rooms kind of way. I’ll call you as soon as I get home to let you know I’m okay.”

I still had my body turned from him and I knew he could hear what we were saying.

Jayne shook her head.

“Why are you in his car anyway? Get out and take your own. He could be an axe murderer who’s planning to dump your body somewhere.”

Jerk-face Chad started putting the window up. I put my finger on the button to lower it again. Maybe Jayne had a point.

“I’m taking her home because I don’t know where we live yet. She can pick up her car in the morning.”

Jayne’s mouth had set in a determined line, like she’d jump on the roof of his car rather than let him drive off with me. I didn’t want this turning into more of a spectacle.

“I’ll call you in 2o minutes. If you haven’t heard from me by then, definitely call the cops. Get a photo of his licence plate number to be on the safe side. I’m sure Grandmother has had him all checked out, security-wise though.”

Chad just groaned and started the car.