Title: Date Me (The Keatyn Chronicles, #3)
Author: Jillian Dodd
Release date: Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Age Group: Young Adult/New Adult
Event organized by: AToMR Tours
I’m not scripting my life anymore.
I’m living it.
I’m done with the God of all Hotties.
I’m going to give my heart to the boy who I think deserves it.
The boy whose kisses are hotter than molten lava.
The boy who offered me the key to his heart.
The boy who asked me to Homecoming in a big, sexy way.
There are so many things to look forward to.
Parties at the Cave. Homecoming festivities. Drama Tryouts. Shopping trips to NY.
But things aren’t always as perfect as they seem.
I find out that my best friend has been keeping a secret from me.
Not that I can blame him.
I have secrets too.
But, for now, I’m going to pretend I’m just a normal girl.
I’m going to pretend he’s not still out there.
I’m going to pretend he’s not getting desperate.
I’m going to pretend I’ll never see him again.
But, I will.
And this time, I might not get away.
Giveaway per blog: (1) eBook copy of DATE ME (The Keatyn Chronicles, #3). Books will be gifted from Amazon or Barnes and Noble. Open International.
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About the Author
Jillian Dodd grew up on a farm in Nebraska, where she developed a love for Midwestern boys and Nebraska football. She has drank from a keg in a cornfield, attended the University of Nebraska, got to pass her candle, and did have a boy ask her to marry him in a bar. She met her own prince in college, and they have two amazing children, a Maltese named Sugar Bear, and two Labrador puppies named Camber Lacy and Cali Lucy.
She is the author of the That Boy Trilogy and The Keatyn Chronicles Series.
Author social media links:
Aiden is standing in front of me, expecting me to teach him how to dance. Why did I ever agree to this?
“This is silly,” I say. “I can’t teach you how to dance. Plus, I’m injured.”
“I saw you jogging at soccer practice, even though I doubt you were supposed to.”
I laugh. “I took another pain pill. Felt healed.”
He stands there and stares at me. Knows he wins whatever game he’s trying to play. If I could jog, then I should be fine to dance. I sigh and figure I'll just get it over. I turn on my favorite dance playlist, grab his hips, and move them to the beat. Move them with mine.
He moves awkwardly. Strangely. With no rhythm whatsoever.
This is not working.
I turn around, standing in front of him, push my back into his chest and pull his arm around to my stomach, where it presses against my bare skin.
Leaving a scar, I'm sure.
I shake my ass into him, and he finally seems to be getting it. He’s moving with a little more rhythm.
What can I say? I’m a good teacher.
I put my hands on top of his and move them around on my body in the name of dancing.
This would be even funner if we were naked.
Hello? You can’t think that.
This is you helping a dance-disabled friend.
It’s practically philanthropical. I bet I could get community service hours for this.