Girl in Love by Caisey Quinn ~ Deleted Scene

Girl in Love by Caisey Quinn

BOOK INFO

Girl in Love (Kylie Ryans #3)

New Adult Contemporary Romance

Release Date: February 4, 2014

Goodreads

BOOK SUMMARY:

She’s living her dream…

Kylie Ryans is the biggest thing to come out of Nashville since, well, since Trace Corbin. With a hit album and a powerful label behind her, she appears to be the girl who has it all.

But appearances can be deceiving.

Fresh out of rehab, Trace Corbin is ready to take on the world. Just not the girl he walked away from. Because if there’s one thing he knows for certain, it’s that the people you love are the one’s who have the power to destroy you.

As their worlds collide, they’ll have to make the ultimate choice. Follow their dreams, or give it all up for love.

They say love conquers all, but for Kylie and Trace, it just might wreck everything they’ve worked for. 

  

Amazon ~ B&N

Deleted Scene

Chapter 9

 A deleted chapter from Claire Ann's POV - Only available in the deluxe paperback version of GIRL IN LOVE.

Claire Ann rushed into her brother’s bedroom and shut the door behind her. Her heart broke wide open at the sight of him sitting on his bed with his head in his hands.

“Rae invited her, Trace. She contacted someone at the label and pretended to be me. She’d overheard us stressing about the event on the phone. She thought it would help.” His sister reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Trust me, I don’t want her here any more than you do. But Pauly called around and apparently the label was pushing for it too. They asked her to attend and maybe perform. Apparently her attendance drew in some of the last-minute sponsors. I’m sorry I didn’t make the connection sooner. I thought—”

“Did she bring anyone?” He looked up, and his eyes were full of an emotion she didn’t have a name for. A mix of pain and longing and desperation.

Claire Ann knew he was asking because Kylie had a boyfriend. According to the tabloids anyway. A rocker dude with tattoos all over the place that was from their area. She’d been too many years ahead of him in school to know him, but she was pretty sure Trace did. Rae wasn’t the only one guilty of sneaking a peek online now and then. 

“Just the American Idol girl.”

“Right. Okay. Is she going to sing or what?” His eyes hardened and he stood. Claire Ann knew this meant he was patching up his wounded heart and resuming with business as usual.

She cleared her throat and checked her watch. “Yeah, um, as long as it’s okay with you she’ll go on right after the auction. She’ll sing first. Then Gretchen. Then you. After that, we’ll wrap up and you’ll thank everyone for their contributions. Some people will want autographs and photos and then we’ll shut it down. We could head out now and try and get some of those handled so we can wrap up even sooner. Sound okay?”

Her brother nodded and headed towards the door. “Is she—” He cut himself off with a deep breath. “Is she still in the house?”

“No. Rae just escorted them out.”

Relief smoothed his features. “Good.”

She wanted to hug him. To soothe him like she’d tried to do when he was a little boy. Tuck him in bed and sing him a song until he fell asleep. They’d grown up in hell, but they’d gotten each other through it. He was going through his own personal hell now and there wasn’t a single thing she could do about it.

“Stop.” He shook his head before she could say anything. “Stop looking at me like that. I’m a grown man. I’ll live.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out for the two of you, Trace. Everyone deserves to be happy.” Claire Ann bit her lip. She sincerely hoped he believed that too. Her biggest fear was that he wouldn’t approve of her relationship with the man who made her happy. “Did she make you happy?”

“She made me…” He closed his eyes, and she watched as her brother swallowed hard. “She made me crazy. She made me want a life I could never have. Made me think I could be a man I could never be.” He smiled, but she knew him well enough to know it was forced. “I’m good. I swear. Let’s go.”

She tried not to be obvious about how closely she was watching him as they headed outside. But she could barely see his face. It was dark now and the lights she’d ordered were mostly focused on the buffet in the tent and the shiny black truck a local dealership had donated to be raffled off. They were using it as a stage tonight. She threw up a silent prayer that once Kylie sang she’d get the hell out of there so Trace wouldn’t have to see her again.

Cars were beginning to fill the drive like cattle. They had to maneuver in between them to get over to the area where the sponsors were being seated. Her brother smiled and shook hands like a champ, joking and laughing with high-powered professionals even though she was pretty positive he was dying inside.

Glancing around the tent, she saw Pauly doing pretty much the same as Trace. When he looked up, their gazes met. He smiled apologetically. She looked away.

A girl could only deal with so many broken hearts at a time. She’d have to put her own away for later. 

Author Information

Caisey Quinn lives in Birmingham, Alabama with her husband, daughter, and other assorted animals. She is the bestselling author of the Kylie Ryans series as well as several New Adult Romance novels featuring country girls finding love in unexpected places.

Website ~ Goodreads ~  Facebook ~ Twitter

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One Week Girlfriend by Monica Murphy ~ EXCLUSIVE Deleted Scene & Giveaway

Paperback Edition Now Available 

Temporary. That’s the word I’d use to describe my life right now. I’m temporarily working double shifts—at least until I can break free. I’m temporarily raising my little brother—since apparently our actual mother doesn’t give a crap about either of us. And I always end up as nothing but the temporary girlfriend—the flavor of the week for every guy who’s heard the rumor that I give it up so easily.

At least Drew Callahan, college football legend and local golden boy, is upfront about it. He needs someone to play the part of his girlfriend for one week. In exchange for cash. As if that’s not weird enough, ever since he brought me into his world, nothing really makes sense. Everyone hates me. Everyone wants something from him. And yet the only thing Drew seems to want is . . . me.

I don’t know what to believe anymore. Drew is sweet, sexy, and hiding way more secrets than I am. All I know is, I want to be there for him—permanently.

My 5 star review!

If you have read this fabulous book, then you might remember a certain marshmallow themed note that Drew writes to Fable at the end.  Recently, I begged and pleaded and got a peek at that scene.  Just had to share it with you!

DO. NOT. READ. if you haven't read One Week Girlfriend yet!

Never look back unless you are planning to go that way. – Henry David Thoreau

Drew

I sit on the edge of the bed watching her sleep. She’s so damn beautiful all the time but especially when she’s like this. Eyes closed, mouth soft, expression…open. Not so full of wariness or anger or pity.

Yeah, I hate to see the pity in her eyes, though I’ve only witnessed that a few times. She hates what happened to me and feels bad but she doesn’t hate me so that’s a plus. I still can’t believe she knows what happened between Adele and I and wants to be with me anyway. I never believed I could find a girl like this. More than anything, I figured I would never, ever tell anyone about my fucked up past.

Fable knows. Yet she wants to stick.

I can’t let her though. I’d only hurt her. I’m all fucked up still. What Adele confessed sent me reeling. It’s…too much. I’m too much. No girl in their right mind would want to deal with me and I can’t blame them. My excess baggage overwhelms me and it’s mine. Imagine what Fable must think.

Turning away from her, I breathe deep and close my eyes briefly, telling myself to get a move on. I’m already dressed. The sun will be up soon. I’d planned my escape the moment she fell asleep and I should be gone by now. But something keeps me there.

That something is Fable.

Standing, I go to the side of the bed and stare down at her, my hands in my pockets so I won’t do something stupid like reach out and touch her. Instead I keep my gaze locked on her face, almost willing her to feel me looking at her. She exhales softly, murmurs something I can’t understand and I wish I didn’t have to do this.

But I do.

I glance around her room, noting how freaking messy it is. Hey, no one’s perfect and seeing her bedroom allows me that little glimpse into her world I so desperately wanted to see. I want to know everything about her, even the stuff she wants to keep from me.

Everything.

Even though it’s dark I can still see the piles of clothes on the floor, the jewelry scattered all over the top of her old, beat up dresser. There’s a notebook sitting amongst the chaos and without thought I grab it, open it up and tear out a blank sheet of paper.

Hell. What am I doing? Am I really going to write her a freaking note? It’ll only piss her off. She’ll hate me for good, no matter what my intentions are. I’m conflicted. I both want to keep her close and push her away. Keeping her is the selfish part of me. Pushing her away is the selfless part.

For once, I should be selfless. Think of others before I think of myself. Leaving Fable is the right thing to do. I know it in my head.

My heart and my body though? They’re both screaming at me to stay.

Pushing all thought aside, I glance around, trying my best to keep quiet. There’s a cup of pens sitting next to a scratched, small jewelry box and I pluck one from the container, settling heavily in the lone chair in the room. It’s covered with clothes, there’s an empty laundry basket it right next to the chair and I flip it over, creating a makeshift desk.

What the hell do I write? I’m sorry just won’t cut it. She’ll probably want to tear my balls off if I give her some sort of lame excuse or a halfhearted apology.

So I go ahead and decide to tell her the truth.

My handwriting is crap. I’m nervous so it’s shaky. I hate this. I hate feeling like this. Maybe…maybe I could put a secret message in my note. And if she can figure it out, then maybe Fable really is the girl for me.

Dear Fable,

(Have I ever told her how much I love her name? It’s so unusual. She’s unusual—in the best possible way.)

My worst enemy is behind me because of you.

(Fuck this is the truth. Partially. I still have demons to battle though.)

And there’s still a lot left for me to explain.

(So much it would take a freaking lifetime for me to tell her everything. Shit she wouldn’t want to hear either.)

Right now, all I can think about is you.

(It’s true. I have a feeling she’ll haunt me for the rest of my life.)

So many things in my life confuse me and…

Hurt me—except you.

(I feel like she’s the only person I can trust in this entire world yet I’m leaving her. What the hell is wrong with me? Is it because I don’t know what it’s like to be really happy so I’d rather be miserable?)

Maybe we can be together again someday.

(A guy can hope right? I’ve felt too hopeless for too long.)

All I really want is you, but I can’t do this now.

(I can’t. It’ll hurt her too much. What if I discover more secrets in my life? That would kill me—and her.)

Losing you will be the hardest thing I’ve dealt with yet.

(I feel like I’m leaving a piece of myself with Fable. I wonder if she even knows how much she means to me.)

Loving you might be a mistake. Drawing you into my world will

Only hurt you. And I refuse to do that.

(I’m a liar. Loving her will never be a mistake. I’m only saying that to make this easier on us. If that’s even possible.)

Will you ever forgive me?

Will she? If I were her, I wouldn’t. I don’t deserve her forgiveness. I’m a coward. A coward who is madly in love with Fable Maguire.

Releasing a shuddering breath, I stand. Slip the pen back into the cup where I found it. Go to the bed where Fable still sleeps. I set the note on her bedside table and then, unable to resist, I lean over and press my cheek against hers, inhaling her sweet, delicious scent. She doesn’t so much as move, all I can feel is her warm breath fanning across my cheek and I press a ghost of a kiss to her lips before I rise.

And leave.

* * *

I’ve known her a week. I shouldn’t think I’m in love with her but I am. Thinking about leaving her makes my chest ache. Yet here I am, sneaking out of her apartment like a thief, shutting the door quietly behind me. Outside, the air is frigid, the sky still dark with clouds though the rising sun lightens the otherwise gloomy gray.

There have been a lot of shitty days in my life but I think this one rates as one of the all time shittiest.

Climbing into my truck, I slam the door, lean my forehead against the steering wheel and close my eyes against the fucking tears that want to spill. Regret settles heavily, nearly choking me and I reach out blindly, slip the key into the ignition and start the engine.

I write her a marshmallow letter and hope like hell she understands it. I can’t let her go yet. I can’t let us go yet. Stupid, I know. I’ve known her a week. It shouldn’t matter what we shared between us. A few kisses, mindless sex, that was it, right?

But no. it was so much more than that. Fucking soul stirring kisses that made me believe in chances. In love. When we touch, when I hold her in my arms, when I’m inside her, I want to lose myself in her.

Forever.

She knows all my secrets. I think I know all of hers. I want more. She probably wants more too but right now, I can’t give it to her. So maybe someday she’ll come and find me.

And maybe someday I’ll be ready.

PLUS

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About the author:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of new adult contemporary romance. A believer in kissing. A believer of love.

I'm a wife, a mom and I live in California.