Ginger Scott is one of my all-time favourite contemporary authors, and so here is the reveal of the cover for her latest book and the second novel in the 'Falling' series, You and Everything After. You can read my review of the first book here.
I’m that teenaged girl who has MS. You haven’t met me, but you’ve seen me around. You probably know my sister. We’re twins, and she’s the pretty one. Maybe you’ve heard about my reputation, how much I like to hook up at parties—how easy it is to get me in bed, get what you want, and forget about me after.
Forget what you think you know. I’m leaving that girl behind.
College is all about new beginnings. So from now on—I’m just Cass. And the rest…it isn’t written yet. And no one else gets to write my story for me.
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“Tyson Preeter doesn’t do can’t.”
That’s exactly what I want people to think when they see me. I am strong, invincible, confident, intelligent—arrogant. I’m the man who always finds a way around, over and through—until there’s nothing left. Since losing my ability to walk six years ago, I’ve relearned life. I don’t need sympathy. I don’t want charity. And I don’t do love.
It’s better this way, saves my disappointments for me, and me alone, and it saves my strength for everything I want.
But Cass Owens is about to wreck everything. She’s about to steal all of my strength away from me, because she needs it more. She’s about to break all of my rules, and break down all of my walls. She’s about to own me…completely.
And I'm about to let her.
Excerpt
“So honestly, when do I get to kiss you
again?” She laughs at my harsh left turn in our conversation. I love the way
she laughs. There’s this rasping sound that comes from deep inside her that
shows it’s genuine, and her smile creases deep into her cheeks.
She flops to her back, and I instantly kick
myself for causing her to move away. “You’re really trying to wear me down,
aren’t you?” she says, her hand running along the side of her face until she
covers her eyes, peering at me through her barely spread fingers.
“Wow, well…I’ve never really had to wear
anyone down before…” I say, shielding my slightly dented ego.
“And that’s precisely why we need to be
friends, and why I can’t kiss you…” she starts, and I interrupt.
“Again,” I say.
“Right, again,” she whispers and moves her
hand back to cover her eyes. I take this opportunity to roll onto my side and
really look at her, the way her lips barely part when she breathes, the small
twitches they make when she fights against her body’s urge to smile, the tiny
movement of her tongue as it wets her lips. I have to kiss her again.
“But…and hear me out,” I say, startling her
with how close I am. She uncovers her eyes and turns to face me, scooting back
a few more inches just to maintain this new self-imposed
“safety”distance. “Maybe the fact that I am willing to work so hard just
to get you to say yes makes you different.”
She stares into my eyes for several long
seconds, her lips slightly parted as she considers this. “Am I? Different?” she
asks.
“Now see, there’s the catch,” I say,
running my thumb softly over the wrinkles in the sheet between us. “I can’t
know for certain unless I kiss you again.”
“Oh really,” she says, smirking.
“Cross my heart,” I say, motioning my hand
across my chest. “It’s in the handbook.”
“There’s a handbook,” she says.
“Uh, duh. There’s always a
handbook,” I challenge back.
“And your handbook says you can’t tell if
I’m worth your time without jamming your tongue down my throat?” she fires
back.
“Wow. Again with the word slap,” I say,
secretly loving this back-and-forth we’ve got going now.
“Word slap?” she questions.
“Yeah, like, you just bitch-slapped me in
the face with your words. Word slap,” I say with a shrug. She holds my gaze
after this and bites at the corner of her lip, her eyes squinting as she
decides her next move.
“Okay, how’s this,” she says, leaning in a
little closer, closing the gap in the invisible barrier she seems to have
instituted when I started talking about kissing. “You can kiss me again…” I
move toward her on instinct, but she’s quick to put her hand against my chest
to stop me. I grip it, tight, and meet the dare in her eyes. “But not until you
mean it.”
There’s a fire in her eyes when she says
this, one that I don’t disrespect, and don’t dare cross. It’s not threatening,
but it’s serious, and I have this feeling churning in my stomach that Cass
Owens is what Nate and I like to call a game changer. Her words have my
heart racing, my mind worried that I can’t mean it enough, at least not yet.
All of our playfulness from seconds before has ceased with this line she’s
drawn, and I will obey it.
Holding her gaze, I lift the hand I’ve
trapped against my body to my mouth and press my lips to her open palm. I don’t
speak, and I don’t break our line of sight. But I don’t kiss her, either.
Releasing 5th December 2014
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
The Sleeper and the Spindle by Neil Gaiman/Chris Riddell
The Graveyard Book Graphic Novel by P. Craig Russell/Neil Gaiman
Hate Is Such A Strong Word by Sarah Ayoub
