About Fall Out Girl:
Imagine a social outcast: Me. (Luna)
Imagine a popular boy: Him. (Caleb)
Sound like the characters of a cliché story, right? Here, hold my hand. Come away with me. I’ll tell you my story, and you’ll decide.
But I have a warning: Proceed at your own risk. Since it’s a snippet of my life, I’m one of the main characters. And to put it lightly, I’m not the most likable person in the world, cue the earned label. Also, unlike fairy tales, my story is real with a dash of sorrow and loss.
How do I start? Once upon a time…? Shoot me now, please.
The beginning? No, too boring.
Well, let’s start with the catalytic moment that set in motion a chain of events that changed my life, yet again.
As for a happily ever after? Sorry, no spoilers here. You’re going to have to figure that one out on your own. After you read my tale, it becomes yours, and as such, you’re entitled to your interpretation.
So, off we go!
Fasten your seat belts. This ride may get bumpy.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Due to strong language and graphic sexual content, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18.
Fall Out Girl
by L. Duarte
Publication Date: March 21, 2015
Cover Design: Okay Creations
Genre: New Adult Romance
Amazon: Fall Out Girl
Barnes & Noble: http://tiny.cc/9sntvx
Read an Excerpt from Chapter 1:
Patience wasn’t my strong suit. Yet there I was, sitting on a boulder—poised, self-assured, and cocky. Perfectly masked. Waiting for someone absolutely pissed me off, especially if it was a client. My foot started to bob, repeatedly hitting the ground with little muffled thuds, displaying signs of my anxiety. I pressed a firm hand against my thigh. To show emotion was the same as cracking open your chest and inviting others to pry out your secrets, dissect your soul, and ultimately judge and condemn you. No, thank you. I had built a stronghold around my heart. No one got in. Where the hell was Andrew? I glanced at my watch. Tick-tock. Ten seconds late. If he was a no show in the next fifty seconds, I would flee. One of the cardinal rules of a drug delivery: Don’t wait. Junkies are punctual to a fault. Weird, right? But true. Desperation for the next fix is a great motivator. I had learned that, in this field, tardiness equaled trouble. And I had become an expert on dodging problems, earning the reputation as one of the best hustlers in the area. I pushed off the boulder I was sitting on and stood up. Thirty seconds. With a look of serenity far from the way I felt, I opened my compact mirror, mussed my hair, and checked my makeup, a pretense to scan what was behind me without appearing concerned. Twenty seconds. I shoved the mirror into my messenger bag and glanced at the interior. The secret compartment, where I stashed drugs, was the way I intended—unnoticeable. Ten seconds. “Luna!” An overly-friendly voice called. I snapped my head up and locked eyes with Andrew. He always gave me the creeps, but he was a stellar client. Cocaine, pot, pills, the works. He was always an eager consumer. “You’re late,” I said, appalled. “No, I’m not.” “Fifty seconds. I don’t do late.” “Jeez, take a chill pill,” he said with a charming grin that had girls melting their panties. I noticed a stranger standing behind Andrew and a nervous energy hummed through my skin. My hands balled into tight fists. “Who is that?” I nodded to the guy, my eyes never deviating from Andrew. “Oh, this is my boy, Caleb. He moved here over the summer.” Andrew’s arm flung to the guy’s back, propelling him forward and making introductions.
Meet the Author:
I have found that there is only one thing better than reading, and that is writing. I’m always torn between the two. I’m also frequently torn between chocolate and coffee. However, I emphatically don’t like the month of February, lies, and flies. For me, bravery is defined by the courage to do what we fear the most. I live in Connecticut with my husband and two children. Drop a few lines. I would love to hear from you.
Enter the Giveaway: