Tonight's the night, turn it up. Okay I didn't look up those lyrics, but you know them. And I know what you're saying:
Dude, two posts in a day. I know, I know but I have to rave about this cover I'm about to post and the author. I love Hayley Faiman. If you haven't read her yet, you are missing out. Just so you know: Silver is mine. Read Unscrew Me and you'll understand. She's getting ready to release a new book and guys, how pretty is this cover.
I mean he is "Oh My."
Here's the blurb:
Author: Hayley Faiman
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Blitz: February 21st
Guilty. ExCon. Felon. Prisoner. Criminal.
Words that now represent me.
Words that keep any decent person away from me.
I never gave much thought to words before now.
Slut. Hussy. Whore. Homewrecker. Jezebel.
Words that now reflect me.
Words that will stay indefinitely.
The evidence of those words grow inside of me.
Those Words make the entire town assume they are vindicated to use them.
I am wrong.
They are right.
Get Your Copy Today:
Universal Link | Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AU
Looking up, I’m frozen, stunned into silence at the sight in front of me. She’s absolutely goddamn gorgeous. She ain’t just some pretty young girl. She’s breathtakingly beautiful. She shouldn’t be in this shithole, she should be modeling or some shit.
Glancing to her nametag, I see her name clearly, Channing. She doesn’t belong here, her long blonde hair is braided down her shoulder, her eyes have some dark circles beneath them, but they’re the color of the Texas sky. I can’t even drag my gaze down to the rest of her, I’m so mesmerized by her pretty face.
I hear everyone’s order and almost groan when those blue eyes meet mine. “Sweet tea, darlin’.” I grin.
Her cheeks tint pink and she dips her head before turning and hurrying away. I watch her ass as she goes. It’s encased in tight as fuck blue jeans, and those are tucked into a pair of worn brown boots. Goddamn. Fuck. Perfect.
“Don’t even go there,” Wyatt warns.
Turning my gaze from Channing’s ass, I look over at him, lifting a brow in question. “She ain’t even twenty-one,” he points out. “She’s also got a bit of a reputation. Better to just stay away,” he mutters.
I snort. “Got my own rep, cousin,” I point out.
Wyatt shakes his head. “Trust me, that’s a whole fucking mess of drama in a five-foot-five hot body that you don’t want any part of,” he mutters.
About the Author:
I was born and raised in a small farming town in California. I met my husband when I was 16 and he was 19. We married four years later and have two little boys! We lived in Oregon for a few years while he served in the US Coast Guard.
Texas is now where we call home, where our boots rest, and where we’re raising our two little boys and a chocolate lab named Optimus Prime.