Praise for Katie McGarryâs brave, unflinching and
powerful debut novel
âA riveting and emotional ride!â âSimone Elkeles
âMcGarry details the sexy highs, the devastating lows and the real work it takes to build true love.â âJennifer Echols
âI wonât tell anyone, Echo. I promise.â
Noah tucked a curl behind my ear. It had been so long since someone touched me like he did. Why did it have to be Noah Hutchins?
His dark brown eyes shifted to my covered arms. âYou didnât do thatâdid you? It was done to you?â
No one ever asked that question. They stared. They whispered. They laughed. But they never asked.
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.
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.
Find out more about
KATIE McGARRY
at www.miraink.co.uk and join the conversation on
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To GodâLuke 1:37
For Daveâit is because of you I know love.
Thank you to â¦
Kevan LyonâI can think of no one else Iâd rather have in my corner. Youâre the right mixture of energy, enthusiasm, and kindness.
Margo LipschultzâYou are brilliant plus you have a heart of gold. I am honored that you took a chance on me, Echo and Noah.
Everyone at MIRA Ink who touched this story, especially Natashya WilsonâI am thankful to you all.
Angela Annaloro-Murphy, Veronica Blade, Shannon Michael and Kristen Simmonsâmy beta readers. You were brave enough to sludge through first drafts and tell me your very honest opinions.
Anne Cook and Rodolfo Lopez Jr.âThank you for answering my questions, thus enriching the story.
Colette Ballard, Bethany Griffin, Kurt Hampe and Bill WolfeâYou are more than a critique group. You are my lifeline.
Louisville Romance Writersâyou are a terrific and talented group of ladies.
My parents, my sister, my Mt Washington family, and my inlaws ⦠I love you.
My friends and familyâthank you for all your love and support. There are too many of you to mention, but know that I think of you always.
âMy father is a control freak, I hate my stepmother, my brother is dead and my mother has ⦠well ⦠issues. How do you think Iâm doing?â
Thatâs how I would have loved to respond to Mrs. Collinsâs question, but my father placed too much importance on appearance for me to answer honestly. Instead, I blinked three times and said, âFine.â
Mrs. Collins, Eastwick Highâs new clinical social worker, acted as if I hadnât spoken. She shoved a stack of files to the side of her already cluttered desk and flipped through various papers. My new therapist hummed when she found my three-inch-thick file and rewarded herself with a sip of coffee, leaving bright red lipstick on the curve of the mug. The stench of cheap coffee and freshly sharpened pencils hung in the air.
My father checked his watch from the chair to my right and, on my left, the Wicked Witch of the West shifted impatiently. I was missing first period calculus, my father was missing some very important meeting, and my stepmother from Oz? Iâm sure she was missing her brain.
âDonât you just love January?â Mrs. Collins asked as she opened my file. âNew year, new month, new slate to start over on.â Not even waiting for a reply, she continued, âDo you like the curtains? I made them myself.â
In one synchronized movement, my father, my stepmother and I turned our attention to the pink polka-dotted curtains hanging on the windows overlooking the student parking lot. The curtains were too Little House on the Prairie with the color scheme of a bad rave for my taste. Not a single one of us answered and our silence created a heavy awkwardness.
My fatherâs BlackBerry vibrated. With exaggerated effort, he pulled it out of his pocket and scrolled down the screen. Ashley drummed her fingers over her bloated belly and I read the various handpainted plaques hanging on the wall so I could focus on anything that wasnât her.
Failure is your only enemy. The only way up is to never look down. We succeed because we believe. How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?
Okayâso that last one didnât make the wall of sayings, but I would have found it amusing.
Mrs. Collins reminded me of an overgrown Labrador retriever with her blond hair and much too friendly attitude. âEchoâs ACT and SAT scores are fabulous. You should be very proud of your daughter.â She gave me a sincere smile, exposing all of her teeth.