~ BLOG TOUR~ *Tainted by Crazy * BY Abby McCarthy!

 

 

What do you do when your boyfriend of five years is sleeping with your best friend and you’re in a dead-end job, breaking your back for mere pennies? I’ll tell you what I did. I did the one thing I’ve been dreading for the last thirteen years, I finally went home. I needed to get back on my feet and I needed my Grams. As much as I wanted to pretend life was working for me, it wasn’t.

 

The problem with home though is that everywhere I turn, her ghosts were haunting me. 

Crazy, crazy, crazy, just like her, just like my momma. 

I wanted to pretend that crazy didn’t exist, but it was all around me, trying to do its best to pull me under. 

 

There’s one problem with that, Keenan Rhys. He’s determined not to let it. And I’m determined to keep him away.

 

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Excerpt

One major thing stood out for me in

his speech. Besides the fact that Alex was still a dog, Rys said, ‘when I claim

you.’ Was he talking in the general sense, or was he saying he was going to

claim me? I was silenced by his words. I didn’t have a rebuttal. The ride to my

place was quiet. Rys opened his mouth again as he turned on to Grams’ street.

“What’s the story with him that you needed to apologize as soon as you saw

him?”

I had a feeling this was coming. I

mean, how could he not ask?

“Senior year, Alex was my on

again/off again boyfriend. I was wild. I had lots of boyfriends and partied

like no tomorrow. One night, Alex and I went to a party. We both got drunk and

smoked a bunch of pot. And then, when it came time to go home, we flipped a coin

to decide who would drive. I lost the coin toss, then lost control of the car.

I broke my leg and shattered his wrist.”

“And then, you healed and got out

of here?” he asked finishing my story from what he must have surmised from my

conversation with Alex.

“Pretty much,” I agreed nodding my

head, “I was young and stupid. I can’t believe how easy Alex let that go. I

thought he’d hate me. I’ve held on to the guilt for so long, and it didn’t seem

like he was really bothered by it.”

“Is that one of the things that

have kept you away from home?” he asked pulling into the driveway.

“One of many,” I sighed and put my

hand on the door handle about to open the door when I heard Rys say in a stern

voice, “Maple.”

I waited in the cab for him to come

around and help me down. I was not testing him anymore tonight. “You,” I

pointed at Rys, “wait here one second.” I hurriedly ran into the house and

grabbed a jar of apple butter. I felt like I needed to do something for him. I

ran back out and found Rys leaning against his truck with a smirk on his face.

“Here, as a thank you for dinner,” I said handing him the jar. I was slightly

embarrassed and my cheeks tinged pink.

He looked at the jar curiously and

I said, “Keep it refrigerated. It’s fantastic on toast, muffins, pastry, pretty

much everything. It will keep for about a week.”

He smiled at me. Those two dimples

made me want to melt. He leaned forward and hugged me, “Thanks, friend,” he

said, then turned and opened his truck door. Before getting in, he added, “If

this is half as good as your pie, I think I can die a happy man.”

He liked my pie. Why did that thought make me

smile?

 

 

 

Other Books by 

Abby McCarthy

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Abby

McCarthy is reader and a lover of words. She is a blogger turned author and

released her first novel in May 2014. She is a mother of three, a wife and a

dog person. She has always written, sometimes poetry, sometimes just to vent

about failed relationships, however in parenthood she has found her voice to

help keep her sanity. Words have flowed from her, to review and with the

support of amazing friends in the Indie community she has decided to pursue her

dream of writing! She loves to write and read romance, because isn’t that

something we all yearn for? Whether it be flowers and hand holding or just the

right tug on your hair. Isn’t that what life is about? The human connection?

Follow Abby McCarthy

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Release Day Blitz! ~*~ Layers of Her ~*~ by Prescott Lane


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A Letter to my Readers

 

Rape. Just typing that word makes my gut tie up in knots. And that’s part of the problem.

Because it’s so uncomfortable, we don’t want to talk about it. So it gets buried at the bottom the newsfeed or forgotten altogether, like the backlog of untested rape kits.

Last March, I released Quiet Angel in which the heroine is a survivor of childhood sexual assault.

A few weeks later, my husband became gravely ill, and we spent the rest of the year (5 long

hospital stays and 4 long surgeries) fighting to regain his health. As I sat in the hospital chair

next to his bed night after night, I got messages from women about how my book touched them.

Some shared their reasons, and others didn’t.

I came to learn that April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month. How could I not know that? just released a book on the very topic. Yet I didn’t see one post about it on any of my social

media accounts.

Early this year, I began writing Layers of Her with the intent to spread awareness and donate of April’s profits to charity. I was nervous when I started, and I still am. I mean, how much the profits be? Will readers assume I’m a survivor or I know one? Will I do the topic justice?

Why am I doing this? It’s a whole lot easier to stay silent. But that’s the whole problem, isn’t I work in a field, in the genre of fiction, that is mostly comprised of women, where sexual assault

is one of the most common tropes. And with each passing page, we pull for our broken heroes

and heroines to heal, find love, forge a new path. That’s all we want for them. We need to do same for the real life heroes and heroines, those brave souls who fight the real fight every single

day. So join me this April in making some noise to raise awareness, not only for the survivors

but for those who love them.

 

Prescott

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Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon CA  

 

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People always say it’s what’s on the inside that matters. If that’s the case, I’m screwed. On the outside, everything looks put together — blonde hair, blue eyes, tall and lean. By society’s standards, I’d be considered attractive. But f*ck society, I know what I am. I know what I’m made of. The recessive genes that reared their heads and created a decent looking package on the outside don’t make me who I am. What about all the evil lurking inside? What about all the other parts of me that aren’t so easy to see? Some of the most beautiful animals are also the deadliest. Take the polar bear, for example. Cute and cuddly on the outside, but it’s really a predator that will bite your f*cking head off. That’s a dangerous combination.

 

And that’s exactly like me, exactly who I am. Bad — and once you go bad, you can never go back.

 

WARNING: This book deals with the harsh reality of rape that could be upsetting for some readers.

 

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“What made you come for me?” she asks.  I tell her my theory about men making decisions based on one of three body parts — head, heart, dick.  “So which led you to my house tonight?” she asks.

 

“Let’s just say two out of three ain’t bad.”

 

Her giggle fills up the room.  “Stone?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Don’t let me forget.”  

 

“Forget what?”

 

“How good I feel right now,” she says.

 

I know exactly what she’s feeling.  She doesn’t think she deserves to be happy.  It’s a constant waiting on the other shoe to drop so you can prove to yourself that all the bad shit you fill your head with is true.  That you’re bad, and that’s why bad things happen around you, or to those you love.  Dealt with that myself when Tate got her diagnosis.  Who am I kidding?  I still fight those demons, knowing she’s suffering because of my mistakes.  Self-blame is a bitch.  Self-hatred is even worse.  Guess I’ll just have to teach Campbell to love herself as much as I love her.

 

Yeah, yeah, it’s fast.  But how long does it really take to fall in love with someone?  A minute?  An hour?  A day?  A year?  For me, it took exactly one kiss.  The moment her lips touched mine in that hospital room, I was gone.  

 

Besides, what do you really have to know about a person to love them?  Not a damn thing other than how they make you feel when you close your eyes at the end of the day with them wrapped in your arms.

 

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Prescott Lane is the author of First Position, Perfectly Broken, and her new release, Quiet Angel. She is originally from Little Rock, Arkansas, and graduated from Centenary College with a degree in sociology. She went on to receive her MSW from Tulane University, after which she worked with developmentally delayed and disabled children. She married her college sweetheart, and they currently live in New Orleans with their two children and two crazy dogs. Prescott started writing at the age of five, and sold her first story about a talking turtle to her father for a quarter. She later turned to writing romance novels because there aren’t enough happily ever afters in real life.

Happily Ever Afters Guaranteed

Author links

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happy reading

 

 

 

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