Falling Series ~Preeter Brother Smackdown and Giveaway~

Falling Series ~Preeter Brother Smackdown and Giveaway~

Preeter Brother Smackdown

 

Happy Book Birthday to Ginger Scott!! 

Have you met the Preeter Brothers yet? Nate and Tyson have made their mark in my world of book boyfriends. The trouble that I am having is who do I choose. With that being said, I decided to see what your choice would be.

You don’t need to know these boys to play this game. Consider this your introduction to this Amazing series.

First things first, lets introduce you to the books…..


FallingCover_Web

 

First, I had to remember how to breathe. Then, I had to learn how to survive. Two years, three months and sixteen days had passed since I was the Rowe Stanton from before, since tragedy stole my youth and my heart went along with it.

When I left for college, I put a thousand miles between my future and my past. I’d made a choice—I was going to cross back to the other side, to live with the living. I just didn’t know how.

And then I met Nate Preeter.

An All-American baseball player, Nate wasn’t supposed to notice a ghost-of-a-girl like me. But he did. He shouldn’t want to know my name. But he did. And when he learned my secret and saw the scars it left behind, he was supposed to run. But he didn’t.

My heart was dead, and I was never supposed to belong to anyone. But Nate Preeter had me feeling, and he made me want to be his. He showed me everything I was missing.

And then he showed me how to fall.

*This is a standalone in a three-part series that will focus on different characters. Each book can be read on its own.

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You and Everything After

 

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.

——–

“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.

* This is the second book in the Falling Series. Book 1, This Is Falling, is out now. Each book can be read as a standalone and will focus on a different couple.

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Let’s get this Party Started!

There are 5 categories

Best First Meet

Best First Kiss

Best Pick up Line

Best Grovel Speech

Best Looking

Keep track of who you liked, in the Rafflecopter you will be asked to choose. There is a chance to win a  signed copy of each book up for grabs!! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did making it……


First Meet

Nate (This is Falling) 

I quickly pull my sleep-shirt over my head and let the towel drop; I’m stepping into my underwear when I notice the sound of the water pipes still vibrating. The thought that I’m not alone sends a wave of panic through my veins; I feel light-headed. I sit on the bench and clutch my dirty clothes and towel to my body, leaning forward enough so my eyes can scan the other stalls in search of feet.

But I’m alone. The pipe sound stops seconds later; I figure the water was probably coming from the floor above. I finish getting dressed, pulling on my cotton shorts and slipping my feet into my flip-flops before I enter the hall.

“Evenin’,” he says, scaring me so badly I drop all of my things and push myself flush against the wall. I look like a jailbird in one of those old black-and-white movies, trying to step out of the spotlight during a breakout. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, but I figured if I didn’t say anything, and you just saw me in the dark, it would be worse.”

He’s picking up my things for me, and somehow I manage to calm my pulse down enough to realize he’s manhandling my underwear. Oh god! I grasp at my belongings, but my hands get tangled with his, which only makes me panic more and drop everything again.

“Boy, I scared you good, huh?” he chuckles. All I can focus on is gathering up my things and making my way back to my room—that, and the slight southern accent when he talks. “Hey, are you okay?”

It’s not until his hand is gripping my arm that I finally look up at him. I’m not prepared for my reaction at all, and I’m sure I’m amusing him, because I blush so quickly I would have a better chance playing off a can of paint being dumped over my head. He’s cute. He’s more than cute; he’s the exact boy I fantasized about when I was fourteen and dreaming of going off to college with my best friend Betsy. Brown hair just long enough on the top to flop over his forehead and eyebrows, blue eyes that hide under dark lashes and a half-shaven look that reminds me instantly that he isn’t a boy at all. No, I’m standing in front of a man. It’s been so long since I’ve been in the presence of a male; I somehow skipped over that moment in-between. He’s like one giant, walking, shirtless symbol of my life before everything I loved went away. Before Betsy was gone. And before my first—and only—boyfriend left with her.

I have to speak. He clearly lives on my floor, and if I walk away from this without saying a word, it’s only going to be more awkward when I run into him in the elevator, at the stairs, in a class.


Tyson (You and Everything After)

“You read Gamer,” I say, knowing full well she does—based on the ass whooping she displayed a few minutes ago. I don’t sleep well, and when I can’t sleep, I play video games—all of them.

“Maybe,” she says, sipping at the beer in her cup. She’s being coy; it’s cute. “You…read Gamer?” she asks, one eyebrow cocked upward.

I grin in response, wink, and then tip my cup back finishing off my beer. Her cup’s empty too, so I take this opportunity. “Get you another?” I ask, brushing my hand into hers just to see how she reacts. She looks down when I do, rapping fingers against the cup where I touched skin—almost like she’s not used to being touched that way.

“Yeah, I’ll have another,” she says, handing me her cup. I notice the salad dressing blonde scoot in closer, nudging her in disapproval.

“Relax, I’m not an asshole. I won’t drug her,” I say, and her friend just stares at me, hard, her brow low and her facial expression clearly not trusting me at all. She grills me with that gaze for a few seconds before turning her attention to Nate, suddenly forgetting all about me.

“Be right back,” I say, holding both cups in one hand and pushing myself back inside. The crowd around the keg is thick; I move toward the kitchen and pick up a few smaller cups, filling them with the tequila I brought. I pour eight shots, putting them on a
plate in my lap, knowing I can probably talk Nate into doing a few
with me. I know he said he was done with this…but I think he’ll play along just long enough for me to get in with Cass.


 

Preeter Brother Best FK

 Nate

When I hear the lock twist, I grab the handle and turn it to push her door open before she or I have any time to react and think better of what I’m about to do. She’s wearing a dry shirt but the same small cotton shorts, and her hair is still damp and long against her back. Her eyes are wide while she stumbles backward a few tiny steps as I barrel into her room. I scan it quickly to make sure she’s alone, not that it would matter or stop me, but she is.

I close the distance between us quickly, and before she has time to protest, I reach my fingers deep into her wet hair with both of my hands, lifting her face toward mine just enough for my lips to touch hers, and I kiss her hard. I can feel her body shake at first, and her hands press lightly against my chest, but they stop fighting me quickly. I suck at her top lip until it’s firmly between both of mine, leaving just enough space for my tongue to brush against hers, and when I feel her tongue move against mine, I pull her even closer into me. Her hands grab at the back of my shirt, almost like she’s fighting herself, until finally she submits, and I feel the smoothness of her palms and fingers trail up my back, to my chest, and over my shoulder until she’s grabbing my hair, pushing my mouth into hers even harder.

I walk her backward until her body is pressed flat against the wall, and I hold her hands hostage against it, her arms trapped along the sides of her body, while I press kisses along her neck and chin. I don’t want to push things, but I need to make sure she feels me, everything I’m feeling. I know I shouldn’t have read that message she sent, but I’m glad I did. It was all the proof I needed that there was this opening here, however small, and I need to step through it, crawl inside her heart. Otherwise, she’s just going to continue to fight to keep me out.


Tyson

One second I’m teasing her and begging her to be my friend, and the next my hands have slid up her completely perfect arms to the side of her face, and my lips are begging hers to relax. I—and my damned impulsivity—am going to blow my shot to
hell in a split-second decision.

At first, she’s taken off guard, and I feel her threaten to pull away. I’m pissed at myself, and my grand romantic fantasies. I should know better. I’m not the romantic one.

But then, her hands wrap around my wrists, and she’s kissing me back. Everything about her—her tongue, her soft bottom lip, the sharp edges of her teeth—is tempting me and begging me to go on. But the loud thud of the fifty-pound dumbbell dropping on the floor next to us snaps us out of whatever the hell that was. Cass’s fingers release their hold on my arms, and she pushes away from me.

“I’m sorry,” I say, just wanting the redness to leave her face, and for her to look at me again like she was before I got all impulsive and shit. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Yeah…you did,” she says, standing and moving away from me even more. Distance—so I can’t do that again.


Preeter Brother Best GS

Nate

“I think we both know that you and I were never friends, Rowe.” She shifts her eyes to mine quickly, holding my attention with this silent stare for even longer minutes.

“What are we then, Nate?  What is this…this, whatever we’re doing? What are we to you?”

All I want to do is move her goddamned legs out of my way so I can
get to her mouth and kiss her, but she’ll run if I rush this.

“I can’t tell you what we are Rowe. I can’t tell you that, because that entirely depends on you. But I can tell you what you are to me. And it’s not the word friend. It’s so far beyond the word friend that I’m scared shitless right now to say it out loud, because I’m afraid you don’t want to hear it. You are the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I think about at night. You are the face in all of my dreams and the smile I see when I close my eyes. Your voice when you sing in the shower late at night, when you think you’re alone, is like music to my ears—and I know, that’s totally weird that I listen to you, but don’t interrupt my flow, we can get back to that later,” I say, holding a hand up to stop her.

“You’ve got me all twisted in here,”


Tyson

My head is down when he sits up fully. Soon, his hand is on my chin, tilting my face so I can look at him, into his eyes.

“It’s just a watch. I know that now. I knew that then. And I’m sorry that I…I don’t know what to call it, went apeshit? I’m sorry I went apeshit on you over a watch. And I’m sorry I was a grumpy asshole. And I’m sorry that you had to run into some girl from my past like that—and that I didn’t go after you. I’m sorry I called you a tart for being a good lover—because damn, Cass, you are an amazingly passionate woman, and I am a spoiled man for having had the honor to have been with you in such an intimate way.

I blush from his attention, and as much as I’m still stuck on the watch and Kelly and everything it means to him, his words melt right through me, and I believe them as he says them. I lean into his hand, and I love the way he holds the weight of my worries.

“I had a great love, and then I had a great tragedy,” he says. “That love, it put me right again, sent me on my way to where I am now. To you. And as far as I’m concerned, from now on, there is just you…and everything after.”


Best Pick Up Line

Nate

“Some people need the rush in life. All thrill and drama. Me, I could die happy knowing I got to spend just a few brief moments in complete silence, watching how the sunrise looks when the gold graces your face.”

Tyson

“My dad always told my mom she ‘lit up the room.’ I never understood that, how one person could change the way you see the rest of the world? But my god did you light something inside of me. I think it was my soul.”


Nate Preeter

Ty Preeter


Let the Voting Begin…….

a Rafflecopter giveaway


Ginger Scott

Ginger Scott is a writer and journalist from Peoria, Arizona. She is the author of four young and new adult romances, with her fifth title, This Is Falling, set to release in late August 2014.

Scott has been writing and editing for newspapers, magazines and blogs for more than 15 years. She has told the stories of Olympians, politicians, actors, scientists, cowboys, criminals and towns. For more on her and her work, visit her website at http://www.littlemisswrite.com.

When she’s not writing, the odds are high that she’s somewhere near a baseball diamond, either watching her son field pop flies like Bryce Harper or cheering on her favorite baseball team, the Arizona Diamondbacks. Scott is married to her college sweetheart whom she met at ASU (fork ‘em, Devils).

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