RELEASE BLITZ
Title: Whiskey Girl
Author: Adriane Leigh
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: June 26, 2018
BLURB
She was the one thing holding him
together. Until she was gone.
And then there was whiskey.
Fallon Gentry has spent the
last decade reliving one dark night in his head. The moment he lost the
woman he loved when a single blink cascaded into a series of events that stole
both of their lives. Now his nights are spent playing music in southern
honky-tonks and nursing the memory of her the only way he knows
how–at the bottom of a whiskey bottle.
A brief stint in Nashville,
a hit song, and a brush with Hollywood couldn't bring him closer to God, but
when the ghost of Augusta Belle Branson appears in his corner of another lonely
dive bar late after dark, he's forced to confront everything he thought he knew
about that fateful night, and a few things he didn't.
He’s her contradiction, she’s his
salvation.
A firestorm of emotion
consumes them when they come together after ten lost years, every moment more
revealing, more unpredictable, more intoxicating than the next until the only
reckoning left for Fallon is the one he must make with himself. But this time,
fate may have left an after-burn too bitter to swallow. This time, he may lose
his whiskey girl for good.
An unforgettable, epic love
story about two lost souls who, against all odds, find themselves through their
passion and music. Filled with raw emotion, this lyrical, all-the-feels
masterpiece may catapult Adriane Leigh into the league of Colleen Hoover,
Brittainy Cherry, and L.J. Shen. — Nelle L'Amour, New York Times Bestselling
author of THAT MAN
GOODREADS LINK: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/39934527-whiskey-girl
PURCHASE LINKS
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2t9yRA2
iBooks: https://apple.co/2JWVgHm
This was a
heartbreaking story. Man, all the emotions. It's hard to believe that such a
plotline could realistically exist in this age, but I fear it could; which
makes me both sad and angry. I think this was a sorrowful and joyous read about
the breadth of human emotion.
Fallon
Gentry is a gritty musician. Augusta Belle Branson is his high school
sweetheart. They were dealt some unfair hands. We follow how they deal with the
consequences of their high school love affair and life's twists and turns.
Fallon is
a raw and dark singer. He's attempting to drown his sorrows and demons in
whiskey. He's been to Nashville after high school and did the “Star” thing, but
couldn't hold the position due to his Whiskey Girl problem. Augusta Belle is
younger than him, with parents who didn't approve of Fallon. They each struggle
with choices that were made for them, forced upon them, and how to move
forward.
Fallon and
Augusta Belle don't struggle at all with their chemistry. They were part of the
lucky few that meet their love in high school. And despite their separation
over the years, the bond between the two is still strong. Their characters
lacked a certain trust and innate connection, and emotional ability to deal
with their love and their situations. Their love was never in question though.
This was
my first time reading an Adriane Leigh book. I found the beginning of this book
choppy and hard to keep straight, and hard to get lost in the story. Once I
kept going and got the story line, I was intrigued and stuck with the reading.
Chapter One did open with a heck of an opening line. I think I struggled with
the back and forth of the timeline and wrapping my head around the way the
parents acted.
I wanted
so much to love this book from the blurb alone. But I had such trouble getting
into the story, and then keeping all the details straight as they were
presented, and believing some of the plot points. I'm not sure if I am being
naive that some of the situations can't happen anymore, or I'm out of touch and
those situations exist; either way, it made it hard for me to read. By the end,
I was able to follow, and enjoy the happily ever after the characters enjoyed.
I'm intrigued enough to try another book by the author!
Star
Ratings:
Plot
= 3/5
Characters = 4/5
Heat = 4/5
Writing Style = 3/5
Overall Rating = 4/5
EXCERPT
One
Fallon
The first time I met Augusta Belle Branson, she was fixin’ on killin’
herself.
Said the minute I’d walked up, she was tryin’ to decide if jumpin’ off the
bridge in the center—where the water was deep and the current stronger—would be
a swifter end, or if she should jump near the edge, where jagged limestone
slabs anchored the slow-moving current.
Certain death for sure.
I replayed the split second when the Indian summer sun burst through the
orange oak leaves, a halo of warmth enveloping her.
Like an angel. Stardust sparkling straight from heaven, ploppin’ her in my
path.
And then she turned, the most startling shade of liquid amber eyes
breathing something real and alive, like fire, into my soul.
That same something I’d been runnin’ from—or chasin’, dependin’ on how you
looked at it—just about every day since.
I settled myself on the lone wooden stool that awaited at center stage, my
thoughts drawing back to the present. My head swam, but the old familiar chords
floated on through the current of whiskey in my blood, and I strummed the first
few notes of a song I wrote a lot of nights ago by an act of sheer muscle
memory.
Old acoustic guitar resting on my knee, my first and third fingers in
position on the strings, the opening chords of “Whiskey Girl” bled from my
fingers.
Every chord, another dagger.
Every whispered lyric, my undoing.
I still didn’t know what the fuck had overtaken me the night I’d written
this song in a fevered rush.
Well, the booze might have played a part, but I happened to think my best
shit came out of uninhibited states.
I’d just had a fuckton of uninhibited states recently.
And the harder the liquor, the more she haunted me.
Whiskey Girl.
My poisoned lullaby.
The crowd of a few hundred erupted into a standing ovation when I ended
with the final, emotion-charged words.
The irony of this song was it was the one that’d launched my career. The
first single to hit radio waves and then the top spot on the Billboard charts,
and brought reporters, music executives, long-lost family members I wasn’t even
really sure I was related to, and too much other scum with an end game that
carried dollar signs to my front doorstep.
I’d moved to Nashville a rising star and left two years later, middle
finger in the air as I tossed my once-promising music career out with last
night’s liquor bottles in favor of the open road.
Chasing something.
Not finding the one thing I needed.
Playing local honky-tonks for a fraction of the money I could have made.
But the truth was, the road was the only place I could find my happy.
A familiar ball of pain formed in my throat as I stood, pushing my guitar
over one shoulder and bowing deeply. I couldn’t see a single face behind the
glaring stage lights, but still, some part of me pretended she could be out
there, that I was singing to her.
That she would hear her song and find her way back to me.
After hundreds of faceless crowds and too many bottles of Tennessee whiskey
to bother counting, I still felt the pull inside me to travel to every town in
America if that’s what it took to find her.
Hell, maybe she was happily married with a few kids, a dog, and a fucking
minivan by now.
I nodded my head, giving one last wave to the crowd in the dark beyond,
then left the stage, taking the steps two at a time and angling past the
curtains to head for the tiny-ass dressing room this dive bar provided. Heading
for another chug of amber gold before packing my shit into my truck and hitting
the road.
I pushed a hand through my hair, thinking maybe a shower would be in order
before I bailed, when a curvy little thing backed right up into me.
My palms landed on her shoulders, warm blond waves falling in a cascade
over one side. The heady scent of peaches and honey filled my nostrils. My eyes
slammed closed and brought me back to summer nights under a giant oak,
fireflies melding together with the stars above like a painting.
“Sorry, I just dropped my phone.” The sweet-scented creature spun,
brilliant smile falling from her face when our eyes made contact for the first
time.
Every coldhearted memory slammed into my chest like a pallet of bricks.
I narrowed my eyes, gaze tracing the familiar yet unfamiliar angles of her
porcelain face.
She was thinner now, cheeks sharp slashes of bone that highlighted her
always-devastating round eyes and full lips. It was her, all right. I’d know
this woman anywhere.
“Hi, Fallon.” I’d been dreamin’ of this moment for the better part of a
decade, and still, my heart wasn’t prepared for those two words. My name on her
lips left me with a toxic reaction.
My whiskey girl.
My damnation and my salvation.
“I need a fucking minute.” I dropped my hands from her shoulders, her skin
still haunting my fingertips, and walked straight down the narrow hallway,
pushing the rusted back door open so hard the hinges protested.
Warm night air filled my lungs, replacing the empty feeling seeing her
again had left.
“Fallon…” Hell, she’d followed me out.
And hell if wanted her to, but I didn’t not want her to either.
The emotions bombarding my mind were just a-fucking-bout unbearable.
“I said I need a fucking minute.” The sentence came out as more of a growl
than I intended. Before she could reply, I stomped across the potholed parking
lot, aiming for my heavy-duty Ford.
I yanked the door open, digging behind the driver’s seat for a fresh bottle
of my favorite recipe.
I couldn’t be bothered to retrieve the half-full bottle I’d left in my
dressing room. I had to get as far the fuck away from her just to clear my head
and process what her being here even meant.
My hands circled the neck of the bottle, and I opened it in a flash,
chugging back the first warm bite of pleasure I’d been craving.
I tossed the cap on my dash and fished the keys out of my pocket, about to
climb into the cab and make hay, when fingertips painted a dark navy filtered
into my vision and back out again, my goddamn truck keys hanging from one
finger.
“Fuck,” I bit out, crawling out of the cab and swiping for the keys.
My reactions were a helluva lot slower than I thought they were. How much
of that bottle had I drunk before the show? I shook the thought from my head,
realizing this was probably about close to my average state of play on any
given day. Runnin’ away from the life Augusta Belle and I’d had took something
out of me. Something only whiskey could fill.
“I don’t care what your stupid ass does on your own time, but you’re not
dying on mine, Fallon Gentry.”
My head pounded then. A whole fucking sentence out of her pretty pink lips,
and my body’s old dependable reaction to her infuriating every cell of me.
I’d never been in control when it came to Augusta. Shouldn’t have been
surprised it was no different now.
“As irritating as ever, I see,” I said, swiping for my keys one more time
and missing before I stumbled off around her, whiskey bottle clutched in my
hand and hell on my mind.
Augusta was back, and there wasn’t enough whiskey in the state of Tennessee
to help me deal.
AUTHOR BIO
Adriane Leigh is an Amazon
Top 25 and USA Today bestselling author of contemporary and erotic romance.
Raised in a snowbank in Michigan's Upper Peninsula, she was born with a book in
her hand and won her first Young Authors award before the age of ten. She
finished her first romance novel at 14, and hasn't stopped playing with
words since. She earned a literature degree, co-founded and organized
international book conventions with RARE: Romance Author & Reader
Events, and has written more than 45 independent titles under various pen
names.
Married to her own Prince Charming, she now lives among the sand dunes of
Lake Michigan, and plays mama to two sweet baby girls. She's a
romantic rebel and word junkie that believes wanderlust is life, is
part of the #goodvibetribe, and wishes she had more time to read and knit
scarves to keep her cozy during the arctic Michigan winters. Yoga pants,
puppies, and mac and cheese also help. Never miss a release! Get an alert
at: http://www.adrianeleigh.com
Praise for
Adriane's work:
“Sizzling
chemistry, a glamorous world, plot twists…a perfect combination held together
with Adriane Leigh’s addictive writing. I dove into this world, and didn’t want
to come up for air. I can’t wait for more!” – Alessandra Torre, Hollywood
Dirt
“Adriane Leigh
never dissapoints with equal amounts of heat and heart with all the sex,
suspense and scandal…Leigh’s newest mysterious hero will have you anxiously
flipping pages well into the night trying to uncover his secrets.” – Jay
Crownover, Marked Men
AUTHORS LINKS
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/LaceSeries
Twitter: https://twitter.com/AdrianeLeigh
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/LeighAdriane
GIVEAWAY
There is a giveaway for a $25 Amazon
gift card + paperback of Whiskey Girl (1 winner, open internationally)
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