Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Book Blitz and Giveaway: Next To You by Claudia Y. Burgoa


Describe yourself in five words or less.
Imaginative, intense, quirky, obsessive, loyal.

Can you tell us a little about Next To You?
This book is about Dan and Becca, two people who had a difficult upbringing. They were best friends, lovers but Becca’s past prevented her to move on and have a full happy life. 

Can you share your favorite scene?
Blaine Frank disembarks the elevator, just as I board it. He nods and says nothing. I thought he’d be working on site today, and my gut tells me he’s coming from the sixth floor and didn’t visit my office. I hate this feeling of jealousy. He has a thing for Becca, I’d have to be blind not to notice the way he looks at her. My hands curl into fists and the childish wish that Rusty peed on his shoe, again, crosses my mind. That should teach him to stay away from Becca. Fuck, I’m behaving like a green-eyed boyfriend, when I’m not even a friend of hers. Aside from a couple of work related meetings, the most intimate moments we’ve shared have happened in the break room, when we both wanted to use the espresso machine.
“Oh no, please, you use the espresso machine first. I’ll be back later,” both of us say and leave the break room. As a rule, I wait between thirty minutes to an hour for her to evacuate the premises. I’ve no doubt she does the same, because we both observe the same fucked up pattern. What happened to Becca preparing my cappuccino, or the other way around? Why don’t I prepare her a hot chocolate with extra foam? That fucking elephant she described is getting huge and one of these days we’ll have to move to a new building so the animal has room to grow.
The rage that clenches my insides, including my head and perhaps my heart takes me on a detour to Becca’s office, where I find her kneeling next to a chair, with a roll of paper towels and two different cleaners. One logo portrays a sadden beagle on top of a carpet. Seeing Rusty inside his playpen with a puppy pout and her ranting, softness my anger.
“We don’t pee on our guests, Rusty. What kind of behavior is this?” When Rusty spots me, he wags his tail, as if I should praise his behavior. Which I would, if Becca wouldn’t chide me right along with him. From the sounds of this and Blaine’s earlier sour puss face, I deduce my dog knows how to behave and keep away undesirable male attention. The female in front of us doesn’t appreciate that behavior though. “If you continue like this, I’ll have to keep you at home. Why don’t you pee on Daniel? Now that’s something I would enjoy.”

What’s one thing you won’t leave home without?
My iPad

Name three things on your desk right now.
Bottle of water, books and laptop.

If you could trade places with anyone for just one day, who would you be?
Any person that has complete access to the Smithsonian museum.

You have been granted the use of one superpower for one week.  Which power would you choose, and what would you do with it?
Telepathic manipulation, I’ll have everyone following my orders without having to say anything. Clean house, the opportunity of driving an Aston Martin for a day, walking anywhere I want without having to ask for permission—museums, English castles…the possibilities. World Domination for one day.
What are some books that you enjoyed recently?

The Stand By Stephen King, Take a Chance on Me by Susan May Warren


After finishing Where Life Takes You, the original idea had been to write it from both POV’s. However after sending the first draft to my editor and my beta reader, we concluded that it was best to write it only from Dan’s. However here is one of the scene’s from Becca’s POV, while she’s away:

Crouched into a little human ball, I remain in the corner of the floor inside my ten by ten foot new room rocking back and forth. The cozy bed remains undone, covers on the floor and I shiver from the nightmare I just had. The picture of Dan and I siting on the night stand stares at me. Ty’s family watches me from the small desk. For me, for them, for a better future, I repeat to myself while steading my breaths. My progress in the last three months is outstanding according to the doctors. I called it bull shit and they insisted for me to tone down my voice and use a more appropriate vocabulary.
No matter how much I cuss at them, they assure me that my treatment should be able to continue at home sooner than I imagine. I’m getting so much better.
“Look at me now,” I scream inside the sound proof room. “Of course you can’t because you professional shrinks can go home to your families—unlike me.”
“Take it down a notch or two, Becca,” I remind myself about my lady like manners and that of course my lungs could pierce and my throat explode before anyone hears my screaming. The isolation method is my choice, no one forced me. I did it because I’m stupid.
Mathematically speaking, counting weekends—we had sessions seven days a week—they swore in forty three days I’d be up and running. Ready to face the world. That totaled about thirty to forty hypnotherapies and a shrink session afterward to talk about my feelings or help me work through the episode. Forty three exposure therapies, because reliving everything a third or fourth time during the day should heal me faster.
Each session inside this facility unleashes a different monster—or memory. They want me to battle forty three of them simultaneously and come out alive. Just today I’m literally on the floor waiting for the day to defeat the night and take away my fears. These fears go back in time and leave me vulnerable, as if it had happen only seconds ago.
At the end of a sessions where my thoughts had been all over the place, the therapist takes me back to that same day … any day. She helps talk to that little girl and convince her that she’s safe, no one would ever put her back into a closet or call her names that no one deserved to be called. I promise her everything will be fine. 
“This is a long process, one you decided to accelerate by coming to our center,” she repeats it as a mantra. “However, we’ll go at your own pace.” Everyone here tends to echo the same thing as if this is my first rodeo. “We’re here to help you find yourself and heal those wounds that bring you so much pain.” It never gets old. “Learn to love yourself again.”
I’m not sure about the growth, but the wounds are wide open. Sadly Dan isn’t running inside my room, telling me that the dream is gone and he’s here. Nor will his soothing voice will help me fall asleep again. His arms are miles away from here and won’t wrap me and protect me from the world.



Excerpt:

“Did you believe Becca?” I ask Connor as he reads the letter he had sent to Becca a couple of weeks ago; the one I read yesterday. “You think your Mom had a change of heart?”
“No, that’s why I told her to let me know.” He drops the letter on top of the coffee table. The New York penthouse is the center of Becca’s search and rescue and no one has left the place since yesterday. Connor takes a deep breath. “Stop trying to find me guilty, the last thing I want is to hurt her or see … Shit, Brightmore, I have known her since she was little. I met her before you and cared for her up until my brother isolated her from everyone else. I fucked up several times, but it has never been my intention to damage her in any way.”
“Brightmore, I have a set of new pictures from the airport,” Nick holds a stack of papers, “and Penn station. As we already know, she wasn’t alone. The man I told you about came up with these new images. They interviewed the cab driver in San Francisco again and he confessed there was an older man and a petite blond woman with her. Becca looked sick and they paid him well to keep his mouth shut.”
A picture taken at Penn Station shows Mrs. Patrick’s profile perfectly. The time stamp on the picture coincides to with the time when the cashier in front of her sold three one way tickets to Greensboro, North Carolina with cash.
“That’s where my grandfather’s farm is,” Connor says as Nick mentions the tickets. “We haven’t visited the place, since he died. Two years after Ian died. I remember because Mom sent me to take care of his affairs and I couldn’t because I was dealing with Ryan’s mom at that time. No one has even set a foot there since then, Mom had grandpa’s body cremated and shipped to her because she didn’t want to deal with another funeral.”
Without waiting for Connor to give us more gory details or explanation about his fucked up family, I interrupt him. He gives us the name of the farm and address he has on his phone. Nick sends the information to the man that has been tracking Becca. He responds back saying they are already on a plane heading to Greensboro and that they’ll be at the premises in less than an hour. Raj contacts the best hospital that is in that city, a precaution in case Becca is hurt. Nick arranges for the plane that will take us hopefully to her, and then sends the information about the hospital to the people that are rescuing her.
Ty and Connor stay behind; Nick, Raj and Drew come along and we lose the Federal Agent, who insists on following procedures and disregards all the information our private agencies have gathered so far. As we leave my office, he reminds us that if any civilian dies, he’d make sure to arrest us until proven innocent.
We arrive at the airport almost at the same time as the captain. The airplane is ready for takeoff.
“How are you?” Raj asks, as we board the plane.
A loaded question, I simply rest my forearms over my thighs to support my head with both hands. This is worse than having a guy pointing a gun and a knife at me. Those had been easy to avoid, this situation is out of my hands. The chances of finding Becca alive diminish every minute. A chill travels through my entire body as I realize she might no longer be among us. My head is about to explode, and I look up to where Nick sits.
“It’s been thirty minutes, Sir,” the edge on his voice contracts my heart. He’s been in situations like this one and surely knows more about the outcome than I do. There’s a part of me that wants to tell him to hit me with the truth, but I choose those sprinkles of hope Becca fondly talks about when she’s nervous or wants something that’s close to impossible to occur. “They’ll call to the airplane phone as soon as they reach her.”
As they reach her, if they reach her for that matter. The thoughts of them not finding her or the worst scenarios, play in my mind over and over again, followed by the unsettling sensation of defeat. The apprehension, fear and distress grabbed ahold of me the moment Ty mentioned he hadn’t seen Becca. To keep a sliver of sanity I push away the ‘what if’ with memories of us, Becca and I. Nick’s voice pulls me out from the trance the sour hunch and memories buried me in.
“Sir, she’s unconscious but stable,” Nick says pulling me out of the trance. “They’ll take her to the hospital Raj indicated. We should be there in forty five minutes. The paramedics are already working on her.”
My shoulders release part of the tension as I learn she’s alive, but before I can breathe again, I need to see her and know that she’s going to be fine.





Next To You by Claudia Y. Burgoa
(Life #2)
Publication date: June 2014
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult

Synopsis:


Him
…I need time. Time to heal those wings and learn to use them…
Was part of the letter Rebecca Trent, Daniel Brightmore’s fiancĂ©e and best friend left when she ran away. The person he trusted the most for the past decade disappeared without giving him a second glance. She taught him how to love, believe in family and that everyone deserves a happily ever after. Now he’s struggling between wiping any traces of her from his life and drowning his sorrows away with the help of his new best friends—Don Julio and Jack Daniels.

Her
Rebecca’s past suffocated her to the point of not wanting to continue, her lifeline and the only reason to live began to withdraw from her. She wished it had been her imagination, but heard it loud and clear: “If not, there’s always a divorce, nothing is forever.” This time it became a leave or die situation. Something has got to change—she had to change. Packing light and leaving a letter behind, she takes a journey that can help her find herself through the shards of her painful childhood.
As letters, memories and stories are exchanged, two once inseparable people reconcile what’s left of their relationship. Beyond the confines of everything they built together, they’re left with two lonely people searching for what it means to be whole. Will they find meaning under their bruised psyches or will their pasts get the better of them?



AUTHOR BIO

Claudia lives in Colorado with her family and three dogs. Two beagles who believe they are human, and a bichon who thinks she’s a beagle. While managing life, she works as a CFO at a small IT Company. She’s a dreamer who enjoys music, laughter and a good story.

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