Title: When the Saint Falls
Series: Westbrook Three #1
Author: A.D. McCammon
Release: January 16, 2020
Genre: NA High School Bully
Romance
Cover Designer: Abigail
Davies- Pink Elephant Designs
Blurb:
Thatcher
Michaelson is a bully.
Arrogant.
Cruel. Ruthless.
And the most
attractive guy I’ve ever laid eyes on. He’s the rebel of Westbrook high, and
I’m merely the annoying goody two-shoes he dubbed the saint.
There must be
something wrong with me. After nearly two years of dirty looks and constant
humiliation,
I’m still
crushing on the guy who hated me on sight.
Then he kissed
me and instead of the ice-cold gaze I was accustomed to, I saw passion burning
behind his dark molten eyes.
Violet St.
James doesn’t belong in my world.
Good. Kind.
Pure.
She’s
everything I’m not.
She doesn’t
just look like an angel, she is one. And I’ve fought every impulse to make her
mine.
But all my
efforts went up in flames the second I tasted her sweet lips. My inability to
stay away has changed everything.
She’s
determined to break down all my walls, but my little saint doesn’t understand
the consequences of her actions.
She tells me
she’s not afraid of the fall.
But she should
be.
PreOrder:
Early Reviews:
"Oh my gosh... you know when you pick up a book to read and
then smash it in a few hours? This story was great... I'm now hooked and want
the rest of the books in the series...”— Author K. Moore
“I didn’t know I needed this book! It’s fresh and romantic and
reminds me of my teenage years...”— Goodreads Reviewer
Social media links:
Excerpt:
As I begin to descend the stairs, someone
clears their throat behind me, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand at
attention. Panic blooms in my chest and crawls down to the pit of my stomach,
but I force my wobbly legs to keep moving.
I don’t need to turn around to know it’s him. I smell his crisp,
clean scent, feel the heat of his stare, hear the agitation in his heavy
breaths.
“I’m a little surprised by your behavior today, Saint.”
I grind my teeth, my instincts telling me to ignore him, but I
can’t resist the temptation of curiosity. “Okay, Thatcher…I’ll bite. What
behavior?”
“You and your little boyfriend partaking in some foreplay in the
middle of class. Not very becoming of a saint.”
I pause at the end of the stairs, turning to face him. Which is a
very bad idea. I freeze, unable to grasp onto anything other than the fact that
we’re alone in the dark stairwell. He’s standing so close, the smell of the
wintergreen gum he’s lazily chewing invading my senses. He inches closer, and I
move back, eyeing the exit as I press my backpack into the cinderblock wall.
The satisfied curl of his mouth reminds me to speak.
“He’s not my boyfriend, and that was not foreplay,” I grit out.
It’s none of Thatcher’s business, but I don’t do the dating
thing. I don’t have time for boys and all the things that come along with them.
Even if I did, there’s only one boy I’d be interested in—and he hates me.
“Is that so?” He rests his
left hand on the wall next to my head, and I hold my breath as he leans in.
“Maybe you should clue him in on that fact. He sure as hell seems to think you
belong to him, putting his fucking hands all over you.”
My eyes widen at the fury in his tone, my lungs forcing me to
take in a greedy breath.
“And this…” His body shifts again, becoming nearly flush with
mine as he lifts his right hand.
Our eyes stay locked as he reaches behind my head, pulling my
hair over my shoulder and away from my neck. His fingertips connect with my
skin, sending a shockwave through me. A rush of air comes out of me in a
whimper as it heats my core.
With slow and concise movements, he traces over every inch Joey
had explored before moving on to unchartered territory, his eyes darkening as
his pupils grow larger.
His touch overwhelms me, every nerve in my body humming and
rendering me as nothing more than putty in his hands. As his stare flickers to
my lips, I close my eyes.
“This right here, my precious little doll,” he whispers, his lips
so close to mine, it feels like a phantom kiss, “is definitely foreplay.”
The moment I feel his full lips begin to blanket over mine, the
door at the top of the stairs opens, and they’re gone. My heart lodges in my
throat, and I keep my eyes screwed shut, the sounds of footsteps and laughter
bouncing off the walls. As the warmth of his body leaves mine, I take a calming
breath. By the time I get the courage to open my eyes, he’s gone.
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