Showing posts with label Tracey Ward. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tracey Ward. Show all posts

Thursday, September 17, 2015

Book Blitz and Giveaway: Ringside by Tracey Ward


Ringside by Tracey Ward 
(North Star #3)
Publication date: September 17th 2015
Genres: New Adult, Romance

Synopsis:

In life and in the ring, you never dish out pain you’re not willing to take.

 Kellen and Jenna have been friends for years. A boxer with a shattered past and an artist with a wealthy family, they found each other against all odds. Ever in each other’s corner, they grew up together, watched relationships rise and crumble, and the only one that’s always left standing is their own.

Bound to each other by an unwavering friendship, undeniable love, and a growing desire, timing has never been on their side. Not until now.

Now they’ll find that falling in love was the easy part. That happily ever after doesn’t come softly, and the end of their story is only the beginning.


EXCERPT #1

“Yer a big one, aren’t ya?” Grania asked conversationally.
I glanced down at her. “I’m tall, yeah. From the looks of it I didn’t get that from my grandfather’s side of the family.”
“Oisin was a stout man. Built like an ox but short as a goat. Whatever height ya have ya did’na get it from him. Yer girl tells me yer a fighter.”
“A boxer,” I corrected.
“A boxer, then. Do you win?”
“Almost exclusively.”
She grinned. “Ya did’na get that from him either.”
I sat down slowly, hesitantly. I didn’t take the stool Jenna had been perched on. I sat farther back, across from her with the fire crackling bright between us and our eyes on par.
“What did I get from him?” I asked.
She paused, looking me over again but her heart wasn’t in it. Her mind wasn’t behind it. It was somewhere else entirely.
“Ya asked her to marry ya,” she stated by way of answer.
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because I love her.”
She hummed thoughtfully. It sounded like a song. “There are two types of men in the world. Men who want to be loved an’ men who love. Beautiful boys like yerself, like Oisin was an’ Mason is, ya want to be loved. Ya want to be looked at an’ adored, an’ that’s all well an’ fine, but it doesn’t keep a woman. If ya don’t ask yerself at the end of each night an’ the start of each day how ya can love her better, then ya have no business getting married at all.”
I chewed on that, pensively staring at her hands that sat weathered and still in her lap. I took my time, her time, probably something she didn’t have much of left, but still I took it. I considered her words and my answer carefully.
I sat forward slowly. “I don’t like people. In fact, I hate them. As far as I’ve seen the vast majority of them are liars and thieves who want one thing from you and they’ll do everything they can to get it, and they’ll leave you broken and alone once they have it. Some people are exceptions. Jenna is an exception, and still I have trouble. Still I have to work to love her every day because I’m fighting against a conditioning that tells me that she’ll ruin me in the end. But still I do it. I do it like I need it to breathe. Like I need it to live, because I do. Because when I’m not loving her, I’m not living. So you can spare me your Old World wisdom and folkish advice because there’s not a person alive or dead that’s walked this earth who could possibly begin to tell me how to love that woman better than I already do.”


EXCERPT #2


He pulled my face to his and he kissed the tears that poured down my cheeks. I laughed shakily, clinging to him, and then he was standing and carrying me effortlessly into the house. Into the bedroom where he laid me down beneath him and undressed me with reverence and patience. With love. He spoke to me the entire time, his words coming in sporadic bursts between kisses, sounding like a song that I couldn’t understand. It was French on fast forward, meaning blurring by me before my brain could comprehend, but it was beautiful, the words soft and lovely like snow dusting down on my skin, giving me shivers down to my spine.
We were black and white as we came together. Drained of pretense and frivolity. Devoid of expectations. No shades of gray. No peacock colors covering secrets or lies. We were truth. We were love. East and west, coming together in a blinding, earthshattering moment of molten heat at the core of the world, at the center of the universe that exploded in brilliance brighter than the sun.
We were everything we had been denied.

We were everything we were always meant to be.



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Will be found here come release day:



AUTHOR BIO:



"I don't write romances, I write relationships. One is pretty and perfect and all consuming. The other is real."

I was born in Eugene, Oregon and studied English Literature at the University of Oregon (Go Ducks!) I love writing all kinds of genres from YA Dystopian to New Adult Romance, the common themes between them all being strong character development and a good dose of humor.

My husband, son, and snuggly pitbull are my world.

Author links:





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Thursday, February 19, 2015

Book Blitz and Giveaway: This is the Wonder by Tracey Ward


This is the Wonder by Tracey Ward
Publication date: February 19th 2015
Genres: Comedy, New Adult, Romance

Synopsis:

From the moment I saw him – all blue eyes and American pie – I knew I’d never be the same.

 Determined to escape the pressure of her impending graduation, Wren Porter chooses to take a semester in Europe. She’s there to study, party, and hide from the question that’s haunting her – What’s next?

At least that’s the plan until one night in Munich when she meets Jax, an American soldier stationed overseas. He’s charming, he’s handsome, and in one small act of kindness he becomes Wren’s own personal hero. Suddenly the two are swept up in a mad romance that will cross countries, break laws, and leave them both breathless.

But Jax has questions about his own future and when reality comes calling their bond is put to the test. Are they only meant to have the nights they shared together in Europe, or could they be so much more?
Could they be the future they’ve both been looking for?


This is the Wonder Excerpt #1


Outside the pub is dark and cold, the wind coming off the Thames taking form in a swirling fog that lines the walkway leading to the bridge. Tall lampposts pepper the trail, their iron bases gothic and thick, coated in black paint that makes them look menacing and strange. The rain clings to them, obscuring the large yellow glowing globes at their tops and giving the world an underwater feeling, a thickness and body to the air.
We walk slowly not speaking much. We pass people who nod and wish us a good evening and at some point Jax takes my hand in his, pulling me in to walk so close to him that our bundled up bodies brush against each other with each step. I like the feeling. Of both him next to me and the clench of his cold fingers on my skin.
Wordlessly he leads me to the large stone railing that runs along the river and we stand side by side, our hands still grasped, and we watch boats traverse up and down the dark waters. It’s getting colder and I take a half step closer to him, burrowing into his side. He releases my hand and slowly lifts his arm, wrapping it around my shoulder lightly as though asking permission. I give it by stepping even closer, tucking in under his arm and resting my head in the curve between his shoulder and neck.
We stand there like that until my hands begin to go numb and the boats are few and far between. Until his grip on my shoulder tightens and his pulse pounds against my temple, wild and erratic. Until I lift my head to look up into his fathomless blue eyes and my heart misses a beat, then stumbles forward in double time. Until his face lowers, mine rises, and our lips meet in a flicker flame moment of heat sparking and burning soft and low in the cold London air.
The cold pushes us from the streets to our hotel room and I nervously lay down with him on one of the double beds in our room. I kiss him slowly, my mouth lingering over his lips and my hands staying still on his arms, reminding myself and him to take it slow. That this is our first kiss and I want to savor it. I’m afraid of how far he’ll try to take it. Of that awful moment when the perfection of where we are slips away from us and a boundary has to be formed.
But Jax never wanders. He never pushes, and eventually the kissing turns to holding and I’m in his arms in the dark and he’s pulling a blanket up over us. He’s brushing his mouth over the top of my head and whispering goodnight, and I’m lit up like the moon. I’m glowing and hovering high above the earth, untouchable. Unreachable. Enveloped in the infinite span of space and time with nothing but the beat of his heart, the pull of his breaths, to hold me down.


This is the Wonder Excerpt #2


Jax calls and I seriously consider ignoring him, but it’s a weak move and I’m bigger than that. I don’t run, I don’t hide, and if this is going to hurt then so be it. That’s life. If I didn’t want to run the risk of saying goodbye, I never should have said hello.
“When is your flight?” he asks.
His voice is horrible. It’s salt on the wound. It’s deep and slow, like he’s dragging time out. Laying it down and asking it to be still.
“Day after tomorrow. Early.”
“Can I take you to the airport?”
I close my eyes, so touched and so reluctant. Jax standing tall and beautiful in the airport watching me walk away to get on the plane – just the thought of it threatens to bring tears to my eyes.
“Wren?”
“I don’t want to say goodbye to you,” I whisper.
He breathes calmly but it sounds forced. “Let me take you to the airport tomorrow.”
“I don’t leave until the day after.”
“I’ll come get you tomorrow. We’ll have one more day. Give me one more day and then I’ll take you to the airport in the morning.”
I hesitate. I want it so badly. I don’t know what he has planned but I want to find out. I trust him implicitly. I’d follow him to the ends of the earth and, really, has he steered me wrong yet?
“Don’t say no,” he pleads.
“Yes.”
“Yeah?”
I smile. “Yeah.”
“I’ll be there in the morning. Early. And, Wren?”
“Yeah?”
“You won’t be sorry.”
***
There’s a brittle cold snap to the air the next morning. It stings my eyes when I step outside and freezes my breath in my lungs. I could stay inside but I’ve already said my goodbyes and I don’t want to say anymore. Definitely not this last one.
Just as the first of many fat, fluffy snowflakes begin to fall around me, Jax’s car comes gliding down the road. He parks in front of me, throws on his hazards, and gets out to help me load my bags.
“What are you doing standing out here in the cold?” he asks, lifting two suitcases like they don’t weigh more than I do. “You should have waited inside.”
“I couldn’t stand to be in there anymore. I’m ready to go. All of this has been looming ever since finals and I just want it to be over.”
I don’t have a ton of bags. I travel light and all of it fits into Jax’s trunk and back seat easily. He has a small black duffle bag back there too and my heart leaps at the thought of spending one last day with him. One last night in his arms. Under his hands.
By the time we reach Frankfurt the snow is coming down heavily and the roads are getting dangerous. Jax sees my tension as the conditions worsen. He knows I can’t handle being on the roads much longer.
“I had a whole day planned,” he explains, his voice barely rising above the purr of the engine and the crunch of the wheels on the freezing asphalt. “We were going to go to Cologne. It’s really beautiful. The entire city was nearly destroyed in World War II and this church is one of the few buildings that survived the bombings. We were going to have lunch there, then dinner in Frankfurt.”
“That would have been nice.”
“There are a lot of places I wish I had time to take you to.”
I smile faintly as I stare out the window at the falling snow covering everything, the ancient streets and the new buildings. The old world and the new world being blanketed together as though they’re the same. As though they’re not separated by hundreds of years, hundreds of lives. Hundreds of stories that have played out between them, all of them the same but somehow different. Each one unique in its own right.
Jax and I are nothing new. Our situation is the same as so many others that happened before us. What makes us different is how we live it. How we write our story.
How we author our own fairy tale.
I roll my head toward him and smile. “I want to see Moscow with you.”
He glances at me, surprised. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I’ve always wanted to visit Russia. I want to do that with you. Let’s go tomorrow.”
“I thought you had a flight to catch.”
“But if I didn’t, would you go with me?”
“In a heartbeat.”
“So we’ll visit Moscow. Then where?”
“Japan,” he says, no hesitation. “I want to see Japan with you.”
“All of it?”
“Every square mile.”
“That’ll take a while.”
He looks at me steadily. “We’ve got nothing but time, right?”
I smile encouragingly. “Right.”





Purchase:



AUTHOR BIO:

"I don't write romances, I write relationships. One is pretty and perfect and all consuming. The other is real."

I was born in Eugene, Oregon and studied English Literature at the University of Oregon (Go Ducks!) I love writing all kinds of genres from YA Dystopian to New Adult Romance, the common themes between them all being strong character development and a good dose of humor.

My husband, son, and snuggly pitbull are my world.

Author links:






Blitz-wide giveaway (INT)

  • $20 Amazon giftcard

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Sunday, January 12, 2014

Book Spotlight and Giveaway: Sleepless by Tracey Ward



“Your life might not be good for a girlfriend, but a girlfriend might be good for your life.”

“You are really racking up the profound statements tonight.”

“You’re impossible.” she groans.

“Another reason I should stay alone.”

“There are far more reasons why you shouldn’t.” she says quietly.

“Careful, that’s almost a compliment.” I warn her playfully, trying to lighten her mood. She doesn’t respond. She’s playing the waiting game, fishing for more of a response, and I know exactly where she learned it. The girl’s a natural because I can’t help but turn to face her, sit up on my elbow and explain. “I don’t want a woman playing mistress to my job. Being a PJ, though, I can’t offer much more than that. And I told you what’s wrong with me. I don’t get attached. I don’t make time or room for people easily. So I leave it alone.”

She doesn’t respond. She barely breathes. I’m pretty sure it’s because I’m slowly pulling my fingers through her hair. I hadn’t planned on doing it but now that I am I don’t plan on stopping. Not until she tells me to. Her hair is long and soft, softer than I knew hair could be, and I’m perfectly content to keep dipping my fingers into it and watching the starlight shimmer off the strands as I move them.

“Nick,” she whispers, not looking at me. “You shouldn’t touch me.”

“Do you want me to stop?” I ask. I’ve been around long enough to understand that shouldn’t and can’t are not even vaguely the same thing.

“No.” she breathes.

I smile as I continue slipping my fingers through her hair. She lays perfectly still, her only movement the occasional blink and the slow rise and fall of her chest.

It’s different this time, touching her. The other times, when her skin barely brushed mine, I didn’t feel anything. Nothing to support her claim that it was “dangerous”. Now, though, it feels different. My heart is skipping beats. Not a lot, it’s not racing by any means, but every once in a while it trips and misses a step.

When she turns her face to look at me, it misses a big one.

Her warm eyes are shining in the low light, not bothering to hide a thing. Everything she feels is written plainly for me to see and it makes me feel good. Nothing profound.

Just good.


My Thoughts:

 I was supposed to review this book for the tour, but I had a real hard time with it and don't feel that I can do so properly. I never really connected with the characters and the story felt a little too disjointed to me. I know that's probably due to the nature of the story, but it kept me from really settling into this book and enjoying it. As a result, I didn't finish it.
Bio: 

I was born in Eugene, Oregon and studied English Literature at the University of Oregon (Go Ducks!) It was there that I discovered why Latin is a dead language and that being an English teacher was not actually what I wanted to do with my life.

My husband, my son and my 80lbs pitbull who thinks he's a lapdog are my world.

Author Link: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Tracey-Ward/455626471211663

Purchase LInk: http://www.amazon.com/Sleepless-Bird-Stone-Tracey-Ward-ebook/dp/B00EIA1FC0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1385651609&sr=8-1&keywords=Sleepless


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