maandag 4 augustus 2014

Book Excerpt At This Stage






Title: At This Stage
Author: K.K. Weil
Genre: Young Adult / New Adult Crossover
The attractive man sleeping on her couch was never like a father to her. That would’ve been much easier…

Outspoken seventeen-year-old Kaitlyn Fowler loses her mother, gets taken in by a gorgeous family friend, and discovers her mysterious biological father has always known she existed. All within a few months.

At twenty-three, Jackson Wall lives without a single obligation. That is, until the daughter of his late public relations manager and dear friend is threatened with foster care. Shocking even himself, the rising playwright volunteers to become her guardian. Eloquent and incredibly talented, Kaitlyn comes to mean more to Jackson than he ever imagined. Or wanted.

Jackson struggles with their friendship as it develops into something much more complex. While Kaitlyn can’t deny her feelings, she knows what will happen if she pushes him too far. As they search for Kaitlyn’s unknown father, she wonders if Jackson will reject her, too, or if she can convince him that something wrong to begin with can become right over time.

Print ISBN: 978-1-937070-50-2
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-937070-51-9

Author Bio

K.K. Weil grew up in Queens, a subway ride from New York’s theater district, which had her hooked early on a mix of major musicals and low-budget one-man shows. Weil, a graduate of N.Y.U. and former teacher, now enjoys writing her own dramas. She lives near the beach in New Jersey, where she is at work on her second novel.


Links

Book Excerpt



Jackson
I’m not getting out of bed. I refuse. I don’t often indulge this way in self-pity. In fact, I almost never do. But today, goddamn it, today I’m giving myself the whole day to stay in bed, eat shitty food and feel sorry for myself.
The reviews were brutal.
Where Has Jackson Wall Gone?
            That’s how the first one began…      
Panned. Panned by every critic in New York City. I read them all. More than once. Every review said the same thing. They used words I never thought would refer to me. Lackluster, trite, boring, hackneyed. They asked if I was washed up, if I’d peaked at an early age and needed to retire.
I sleep most of the morning and around one, I indulge in a few beers.
            Around 5:00, there’s a knock at my door. It must be Cole. He texted me earlier after he read one of the reviews. I ignore the knock and turn on the TV. Another knock, louder this time. I storm over to the door and swing it open. “I told you I’m not going out!”
            “I figured that,” Kaitlyn says calmly. “That’s why I brought dinner in.” She walks past me, take-out bags in her arms.
            I sigh. Part of me can’t believe she’s here, but the other part doesn’t even want to see her. Or anyone else. Pity on their faces. But I can never be mad at Kaitlyn.
            “I got ribs and mashed potatoes. They always feel like comfort food to me.” She pays no attention to the fact that I haven’t gotten dressed today, or that I smell like a fucking brewery and it’s only 5:00.
She doesn’t mention that she walked out of my life.
            I stare at her. At her huge blue eyes that sparkle like stars when she’s happy. Right now they look cloudy and ominous. She’s worried about me. Her words may not tell me but her eyes do.
            “It sucked,” I say flatly.
            “Then why did you do it?”
            I lock my hands on my head and stare up at the ceiling. I let out what I mean to be a deep breath, but it comes out as more of a tortured groan. “I needed to write something. I needed to get past…” You, the emptiness I feel because of you, the way I’m tormented all the time now because I can’t be with you. “My writer’s block. I thought if I just pushed something out, everything would be okay.”
            She stares at me for a minute. Then she scoots off her stool and walks behind me. She puts her arms around me and clasps her hands together at my chest. She rests her forehead between my shoulder blades and sighs, “I’m sorry.”
            I breathe deeply but she doesn’t let go. Her arms remain tightly folded around my rising and falling chest. I close my eyes as she holds me and think even with all the terrible reviews and critiques, this might be the thing that breaks me.
 

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