~ Blog Tour, Giveaway & Excerpt: Second Chance Boyfriend by Monica Murphy ~

Welcome to our stop on Second Chance Boyfriend blog tour for Monica Murphy.  This tour is hosted by Ink Slinger PR. 
 photo divider_zpsf7a12c62.gif

**Recommended for ages 17+ due to sexual content and language, mature subject matter**

New Adult Contemporary

Lost. That one single word best describes my life at this very moment. I lost the last games of the season and both my team and my coach blame me. I lost the last two months because I drowned in my own despair like a complete loser. And I lost the only girl who ever mattered because I was afraid being with me would destroy her.

But now I realize how truly lost I am without her. She has become my story…and even though she acts like she’s moved on, I know she still thinks about me just as much as I think about her. She’s beautiful, sweet—and so damn vulnerable, all I want to do is help her. Be there for her.

Love her…

If only I could convince Fable to give me a second chance. Then I wouldn’t feel so lost anymore, and neither would she. We could be found together.

 photo divider_zpsf7a12c62.gif
 photo divider_zpsf7a12c62.gif

“I can’t do this, Drew. I can’t pretend like seeing you after so long is no big deal when really my heart is cracking in two.” A laugh escapes her, though it lacks humor. “I think it’s best if we stay away from each other. Having you in front of me hurts too much.”
My heart bottoms out. Completely. I can’t even believe she’s saying this. Fighting the panic that threatens to sweep me under, I step closer to her. “Fable…”
She steps back, looking scared, as if she has nowhere to go, and that makes me feel like shit. “You should go.”
I take another step toward her, and she takes another one back, bumping against the wall behind her. She’s trapped, she knows it, and all I can think is thank God she can’t run away from me. “You don’t want me to leave.”
“Yes, I do.” She nods, her expression firm, but her voice is weak.
I move in so close I invade her personal space. Her warmth, her scent wraps around me, intoxicating me, and I brace my hands on the wall above her head, my arms bracketing her. I’ve got her completely caged in, and as I gaze down at her pretty, angry upturned face, all I can think is how much I want to kiss her and smudge that bright red lipstick all to hell. “How late do you work?” I ask, my voice low, my thoughts…dirty. I want to get her home. Naked. In my bed. Impossible considering how I’ve ruined this fragile thing between us, but I have hopes I can turn everything around.
The trembling in her body is a clue she’s not over me. The way she’s looking at me with all that pent-up longing in her gaze tells me I still have a chance too.
“Too late to meet with you after.” Reaching out, she pushes at my chest, her slender hands resting on my front, and I hiss in a breath as if she’s burned me.
But shit. It feels like she has. Having her hands on me again after so long, it’s like she’s branding me. Making her claim with just a touch.
She has no idea I’ve belonged to only her for months.
Without thought I lean in, my lips going for hers, but she turns her head at the last second and I end up kissing her cheek instead. She’s quivering, little shuddering breaths escape from her parted lips, and I close my eyes, desperate to calm the pounding of my heart as I nuzzle the side of her face. “I really fucked up, didn’t I?” I whisper against her skin.
Fable nods, draws in a deep breath as her hands drop away from my chest. “You did.”
“Tell me what I can do to make it up to you.” I need to know. I can’t let her think this is over between us.
She still keeps her face averted, as if she’s afraid to look me in the eyes. “It’s too late. There’s nothing you can do. It’s o—over between us.”
I remove my hand from the wall to cup her cheek, forcing her to look at me. Those big, scared eyes meet mine and for a moment I’m lost. Like we’re back in time and at my parents’ guesthouse when we were about to embark on something big. Something serious. I had this girl in the palm of my hand and she had me. But I was such a chickenshit, I let her slip right out of my grip and now look at her.
She’s…different. Her entire life has changed in a matter of weeks. And I had nothing to do with it. She’s moved on while I’m still stuck.

The realization is staggering.

  photo divider_zpsf7a12c62.gif
About the Author
 photo divider_zpsf7a12c62.gif

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Monica Murphy is a native Californian who lives in the foothills below Yosemite. A wife and mother of three, she writes New Adult and contemporary romance for Bantam and Avon. She is the author of One Week Girlfriend and Second Chance Boyfriend.

 photo divider_zpsf7a12c62.gif

Sponsored By:


Post a Comment

We love and appreciate comments, so feel free to leave us one. We always try to respond to every single one and show love back. :)

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...