Wednesday, March 11, 2015

The Problem with Heartache by Lauren McKellar Blog Tour

The problem with heartache is that there’s no one-size-fits-all relief package. You can go to classes; you can try to embrace change. But when you wake up at two in the morning, a smile on your face because you’ve dreamt about the could have—the should have—nothing will console you.
Because seconds later, you remember.
And remembering can rip you apart.
***
Kate will do anything for her family. It’s why she took the job with Lee. It’s why she’s attempting to forget her pain. But it's hard to forget, when you're desperate to hold on. Even if Lee Collins is the perfect package.

Lee will do anything for the ones he cares about. It’s why he hired Kate.
It’s why he keeps his secrets; and it’s why he cannot, will not fall in love. Not with Kate—not with anyone.
Ever.
The one thing he can’t forgive.
The one thing she can’t forget.


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Excerpt

            “You. In.” She pointed to the room behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder.
            “In there?” I smirked again, but her cheeks didn’t get any redder, to my astonishment. “Is now really the time?”
            She pushed against my chest, her steely eyes fixed on my face the whole time, then slammed the door behind us with her foot.
            “If you wanted some private time together, you just had to say so,” I joked, leaning back against the chair that was positioned in front of the mirror in my dressing room.
            “You think this is funny?” Kate asked, her head tilted to the side.
            “Actually … yeah.” I nodded and smiled again, not unkindly.
            Kate looked down, and for one God-awful moment I thought she was going to cry.
            Then, she did something better than crying. Holy mother of crap sticks, was this better than crying.
            She raised her hands to the top of her black button-up shirt—and she undid the top button. Creamy, white skin was exposed, defined collarbones, teasing my eyes down to—
            She undid another button. Holy fuck, what was Kate doing? Her cleavage heaved in front of me, and I got a hint, just a hint of her black lacy bra.
            “It cannot be a coincidence that one man is shirtless in front of me seven times in three weeks.”
            I grinned. She’d counted.
            That totally means she’s into it.
            Then she did something that completely surprised me. Hell, it shocked the living daylight out of me. In one fluid movement, she grabbed the sides of her shirt and pulled, press studs popping open her entire top, and then she shrugged it over her shoulders so she stood there in the world’s hottest black, lacy bra, skin-tight black denim jeans and these shoes—how the hell did I not notice them before?—that were red, high, and sexy as sin.
            I swallowed.
            This girl was trouble.
            Come on, Lee. Get your act together. I tried giving myself a pep talk. I saw naked women on a regular basis.
            But for some reason, seeing sweet, innocent, shy Kate standing there like that? It was doing things to me. Things that my body should not have been doing in response to my employee who had gone through enough emotional trauma to last a goddamn lifetime. Who I couldn’t be with anyway. Not now.
And besides, the last thing she needed was a quick screw, someone like me using her up, too.
            “So … this is a revenge …” swallow “… strip?”
            “This is me trying to get you to pay attention and listen when I ask you to do something.” Kate’s voice was honey as it melted into me.
            I raised my hand to the back of my neck and rubbed at the muscles there that had suddenly become tight with tension. “Oh, I’m paying attention, all right.” I widened my eyes. There was absolutely no doubt about that right now.
            “Get back-stage, Lee. Seriously. This is your last warning.”
            I swallowed again, and the clamminess of perspiration beaded against my brow. Was it hot in here? It sure felt hot.
            She stepped closer to me, till her chest was almost touching my chest. Shit, she smelt like soap and hairspray and … apples. How the hell did she smell like apples when Sam told me she’d been helping the sound guys lug some of our gear into the venue, despite me telling her not to? By all accounts, she should smell like ass.
            But no. Apples.
            “I …” My gaze flicked to her lips, and I wondered if it would really be that bad if I kissed her. After all, that was hardly promising her marriage, and no one had to know. Just one taste. And her lips—they were so red, and plump, and—oh God, she just licked them with that sweet-as-hell little tongue, and—
            The palm of her hand made contact with my face before I even registered her arm moving. Five elegant fingers stung my cheek and I jerked backward, cupping my jaw in pain. “What the hell?”






Lauren McKellar Bio:
Lauren K. McKellar is an author and editor. Her debut novel, Finding Home, was released through Escape Publishing on October 1, 2013, and her second release, NA Contemporary Romance The Problem With Crazy, is self-published, and is available now. She loves books that evoke emotion, and hope hers make you feel.
Lauren lives by the beach in Australia with her husband and their two dogs. Most of the time, all three of them are well behaved.
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