Praise for Katie McGarry
bestselling author of
PUSHING THE LIMITS
âThe love story of the yearâ âTeen Now
âA real page-turnerâ âMizz
âA romance with a differenceâ âBliss
âMcGarry details the sexy highs, the devastating lows and the real work it takes to build true love.â
âJennifer Echols
âA riveting and emotional rideâ
âSimone Elkeles
âHighly recommend to fans of hard-hitting, edgy, contemporary and to anyone who loves a smouldering, sexy, consuming love story to boot!â
âJess Hearts Books blog
âMcGarry is definitely a YA author to keep an eye out for.â
âChooseYA blog
KATIE McGARRY
was a teenager during the age of grunge and boy bands and remembers those years as the best and worst of her life. She is a lover of music, happy endings and reality television and is a secret University of Kentucky basketball fan. She is also the author of Pushing the Limits, Dare You To, Crash Into You, Take Me On, Breaking the Rules and the novella Crossing the Line.
Katie would love to hear from her readers. Contact her via her website, katielmcgarry.com, follow her on Twitter@KatieMcGarry, or become a fan on Facebook and Goodreads.
Emily
TOP THREE AWFUL moments of my life:
Meeting my biological father at ten
Breaking my arm in three spots at nine
Falling into a hole and being trapped there overnight with a dead body at eight
Other than that, I love my life. While some of my friends are all, âWoe is me, no one understands my traumatized soul,â Iâm pretty happy. I like happy. I like simple. I like predictable and I hate surprises.
With that said, Iâm not particularly thrilled when my father tries to hand me a piece of paper that causes my mother to choke up and excuse herself from the kitchen.
Dad and I continue to stare at one another as we listen to Mom race up the stairs then close the door to their bedroom. Life is out of whack and itâs easy to tell. Dirty dishes are piled in the sink. A stack of unopened mail is tossed across the island. A pile of balled tissues creates a mountain on the wooden oval table. The yellow kitchen that seemed cheery this morning is darkened with emotional storm clouds.
The awkward silence between me and Dad has officially stretched into painful. I shift under the strain and my foot nudges my backpack on the floor.
âYou should go after her,â I say to break the stillness and to ignore the fact I havenât accepted what Dad is offering. Plus, Dad always knows how to pull Mom out of her drama pit. Itâs one of the million things I love about him.
âI will.â His lips lift a little, a strong indication heâs planning to mess with me. âHow do you want to handle this? Straightforward, gradual introduction, or head in the sand?â
I brighten. âHead in the sand works well for me.â
âGood try, but pick another option.â
Fine. âGradual.â
âHow does it feel to be a senior?â
Despite the impending knowledge that my life is about to suck, I smile. Iâd walked into the kitchen after my last day of school expecting to gush to Mom about how Trisha and I were invited to Blake Harrisâs party tonight.
What I didnât expect? Dad home, Mom in tears and a note that possibly brings tidings from hell. âIt feels awesome. Itâll feel even better if you put that piece of paper in the garbage disposal.â
âPlease read it,â Dad presses. âIt was hard for your mom to make the decision to let you see this and we should respect her wishes.â
My stomach aches as if Iâd been elbowed. This debilitating reaction from my mother means one thing: contact from her childhood home in Kentucky.
Kentucky is a painful subject for her and thereâs nothing I wouldnât do to ease her suffering because, until Dad came into the picture and adopted me when I was five, Mom raised me on her own. That deserves some major respect.
Out of the corner of my eye I take in the collage of framed photos on the wall. The middle picture is my favorite. Itâs an eight by ten of the day Mom and Dad married. Momâs in a white wedding gown. Slender. Graceful. Her sleek blond hair falling around her shoulders as she beams down at me. Dad crouches beside me. His sun-kissed hair strikingly gold compared to his black tux.