Late...Because I Was Blindsided!!!
I'm posting this later than I planned. There was a gas leak at my kids' school and they had to be sent home early. And of course, they, being their mother's children, wanted food as soon as they got home. So, second breakfast is served (did I ever tell you my boys eat like Hobbits?) and I am ready to work!I'm soooo happy to be part of Kyra's book tour. I love her work, and I'm not just saying that because she's sweet and wonderful and all that...I am saying it because she is talented and deserves the kudos.
Blindsided Synopsis:
After a successful first soccer season in L.A, Jesse Shaw heads to London with his best buddy, Hunter, but his world is turned upside down when a dangerous prank threatens his career and his blossoming relationship with Hunter’s cousin, Isabelle.
Isabelle Mills lives in Notting Hill with her parents and her twin sister, Georgia. When she finds out her cousin is coming to stay, along with his famous soccer player friend, her first instinct is to hibernate until they’ve gone. However, once she meets Jesse, everything changes. He’s everything she ever wanted, but with so many obstacles in their path, can she really risk putting her heart on the line?
Author Bio:
Kyra Lennon was born on the South coast of England, and to this day, still lives by the sea. After years spent working in retail, where she met enough versatile characters to write hundreds of books, she finally took the plunge and quit her day job. Kyra's debut novel, Game On, was released in July 2012. While fiction writing has always been her passion, she also has numerous articles on a variety of topics published on prolific websites.
Kyra was fabulous enough to send me an excerpt from the first chapter...hope you enjoy it as much as I did!
Rain hammered against the window, jolting me awake. It took me a minute
to work out why the walls were covered in flowery wallpaper, the clock was in
the wrong place, and no bright sunlight streamed in through the gap in the pink - pink?
- curtains.
Oh right. You’re not in L.A anymore.
I’d been warned about the British weather, and it was late November, but water should never make that much noise.
Especially when I was trying to sleep.
Flicking on the bedside lamp, I wondered whether I should get up, or stay
in bed a while longer. What’s the
protocol when staying with your best friend’s relatives? Should I wait for
Hunter? Or can I just get up and help myself to breakfast? Is a full English
breakfast something people get every day, because I could really go for one
right now.
I couldn’t wait for Hunter.
Clambering out of bed, I shivered as I climbed into my jeans and
t-shirt. and quickly combed my hair with my fingers.
The smell of bacon and eggs hit me as I opened the bedroom door, and I
silently praised the breakfast gods for blessing me with such generous hosts.
Mr and Mrs Mills were Hunter’s uncle and aunt, and they offered to let us stay
in their Notting Hill home for a few weeks. Our trip was an
end-of-year-escape-from-the-media gift from my parents after my first season with
the Westberg Warriors. Since I’d been playing for them, the press interest in
me had gotten a little out of hand, and even though I found it pretty easy to
cope with, I was looking forward to walking down the street without having
cameras shoved in my face. Technically, Hunter should have been in school until
the end of December, but his straight A’s and perfect attendance record meant
that his teachers were cool with him ducking out of classes early. I was pretty
relieved. Where would the fun be in visiting England without my boy?
I shuffled into the kitchen, where Hunter was already shovelling toast
down his throat while Mrs Mills fried bacon, eggs and mushrooms.
“Good morning,” she said, smiling. “Did you sleep well? Are you hungry?
You do like bacon and eggs, don’t you?”
Unsure which question to answer first, I nodded. The answer to all of
the questions was the same anyway.
“Take a seat, Jesse. Help yourself to some toast.”
Hunter had barely glanced up from his food until I sat beside him. He gave
me a goofy grin. “I forgot to tell you, Aunt Janet is an awesome cook.”
“Don’t expect this every morning,” she told us. “But as it’s your first
day and I know you’re a bit jetlagged, I
thought you’d like something to help you through your first twenty-four hours
here.”
“This is really great, Mrs Mills. Thanks.”
“Please, call me Janet. I can’t be doing with all this formality.”
She bustled over to us, placing plates piled high with bacon, sausages,
mushrooms, eggs, fried bread and hash browns in front of us. I’m pretty sure
some drool escaped my lips at the sight.
“Okay, Janet. This looks awesome.”
She ruffled my blond hair. “Enjoy. I need to get ready, the girls will
be home in a few hours and this place is a mess.”
I almost choked on my juice. Mess? There wasn’t a speck of dust
anywhere. Janet left the kitchen to … I don’t know … put some more crap in her
hair to make it rock solid so it wouldn’t fall out of place, and Hunter and I
tucked into our breakfasts.
“Aunt Janet’s pretty cool, huh?” Hunter asked. “Can’t say she doesn’t
take care of her guests.”
“You think we can take her home with us? If my mom cooked like this, I’d
never have moved out.”
Hunter raised his eyebrows. “Never knew you were into older women.”
I reached over and lightly punched his arm. “I’m not, but your cousins
might be in trouble if they cook as well as your aunt!”
Back when I lived in Phoenix, I’d met Hunter’s twin cousins about five
summers ago. We were thirteen, and Georgia and Isabelle were twelve. All I
remembered about them was they were blonde, and they giggled a lot. I was
pretty stoked about seeing them again. What normal nineteen-year-old wouldn’t
be excited about meeting hot, blonde twins? They’d been away at some college
thing when we arrived, but judging by the portrait of them that hung in the
hallway, they’d grown into real hotties. My respect for my best buddy and his
family meant I’d never dare to make a move on them, but I still enjoyed razzing
him.
“Oh,” Hunter laughed, “you’re a real stud now, aren’t ya?”
“Don’t mock me. I’ve had many, many
offers this year. No longer are you looking at the guy who couldn’t speak
around pretty girls.”
I had one. Shame she was nuts.
A vision of Taylor swam into my head. God, she was perfect.
“Hey,” Hunter said, clicking his fingers an inch from my face. “Quit it.
I wasn’t around to see what that bitch put you through, but I know she messed
you up. Stop thinking about her.”
Weird how, even though we’d been separated for the best part of a year,
he could still tell when I was about to wallow in self-pity. I guess a lifetime
of telepathy is what you get when you’ve been friends with someone since birth.
“I’m over it,” I said. “Really. But it is good to know there’s no chance
of running into her for the next four weeks.”
Westberg wasn’t big enough for both of us. She still hung out in the
café across from the training ground, looking miserable. I hated how she always
played the victim, like she wasn’t the one who screwed me over. It was all an
act, like everything else she ever said or did.
“Jesse!”
I shook my head like an Etch-A-Sketch, erasing the picture of Taylor in
my mind. “Sorry. I’m done now. Let’s talk about something else. Like your hot
cousins!”
“If it gets your mind off the psycho chick, we can talk about whatever
you want.”
Uncool as it was to admit, I’d really missed having Hunter close by. I
thought for sure he’d forget about me once he found new people to party with.
Instead, he’d buckled down with his schoolwork, and picked up extra shifts at
the pizza place to save up for a flight to L.A.
I guess you should never underestimate the strength of a bromance.
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