Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Blog Tour: HIS REVERIE by Monica Murphy

I knew from the moment I first saw her she was the one. The only girl I could ever want.

The only girl I could ever love.

She is light.

I am darkness.

She is innocent.

I’ve done too much.

She is good.

I am bad.

She is my every dream.

I should be her every nightmare.

We come from different worlds. She’s…perfect. And I’m…


Somehow she wants me anyway. So we’ll grasp at what we can. We’re going to make this summer count. She’s my secret. And I’m hers.

The problem with secrets is they never last for long. And when others discover we’re together, they’ll do whatever it takes to keep us apart. All I know is: I won’t let them.

Because Reverie Hale? She’s mine.
“Reverie, wait,” I say, shooting Heather a dirty look over my shoulder before I take off after Reverie.
Second time in twenty four hours that I’m literally chasing this girl. She’s fast I’ll give her that but I catch up with her quick.
“Reverie.” I grab hold of her arm and turn her around so she’s facing me. She looks upset, her eyes narrowed into slits as she yanks out of my hold and crosses her arms in front of her chest. The move only makes her boobs look bigger and my gaze drops. Lingers.
“What do you want Nick?” She sounds irritated. Sweet but irritated.
I jerk my gaze back up to hers. “Why did you leave just now?”
“I didn’t want to disturb you.” She practically spits the last two words out.
“What are you talking about?” I think I know exactly what she’s talking about.
“Are you with Heather?”
“What? No way.” I shake my head, shocked she would come out and ask me point blank. “Michael’s hot for her, not me.”
Her expression softens though she still sounds skeptical. “Well, she seemed very interested in you.”
“It was nothing, I swear. We were talking while Michael was lighting the fireworks. He let me set a few off but after a while, he wanted to take over completely. So I let him.” I shrug. “He was just showing off for Heather. Trying to impress her.”
“She acted like she was trying to impress you.” She sounds jealous. And sick ass that I am, I like it.
“Not even,” I scoff because yeah. I doubt she’s interested in me. Maybe she was trying to rile Michael up?
Heather had acted pretty weird when Reverie appeared. But she’s a girl. They always act weird. And I rarely understand them and their motives. Look at Krista. Though really she’s a terrible example because that girl is flat out crazy.
“Are you sure? Gosh, I feel stupid for asking. And insecure. You must think I’m overreacting, which I probably am.” Reverie’s voice softens even more until she’s practically whispering. “I just…after last night…I don’t know.” She shakes her head. “I thought…”
“You thought what?” I encourage when she stops talking. I’m dying to know what she was going to say.
“I thought you...” She presses her lips together and shakes her head again. Closes her eyes for the briefest moment before she pops them open. She’s struggling with something and I wish I knew what. “Never mind.”
I step close. Closer. And she doesn’t back up. I’m invading her space, I can smell her, feel the heat radiate off her body and mine reacts. My skin tightens and I break out in a sweat. I take her hand and entwine my fingers with hers, notice that they’re trembling. She doesn’t pull away, doesn’t even seem to be breathing and I realize I’m holding my breath too.
Letting out a ragged exhale, I wonder what the hell is happening between us. The air is charged, heavy with unspoken declarations. I shouldn’t push her. She’s innocent. Sweet and virginal and sheltered. But I want to know what she’s thinking, what she’s feeling. I can only hope it’s about me. “Say it,” I murmur, needing to hear her confession.
It won’t mean anything though, what she’s going to say. It can’t. Not really. We’re the last two people who should be interested in each other.
“I like you. And I thought you liked me.” The words come out in a rush and she closes her eyes again, her expression pained. “Stupid right?”
My heart speeds up as relief floods me. She likes me. “Not stupid,” I murmur, dipping my head, my lips so close to hers that I…
Go for it.
And I kiss her.
It’s light. A kiss but not a kiss at all because I barely felt her lips. But I know from that one singular moment when my lips touched hers that they are soft. And warm.
And perfect.
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New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Monica Murphy is a native Californian who lives in the foothills below Yosemite. A wife and mother of three, she writes New Adult and contemporary romance for Bantam and Avon. She is the author of One Week Girlfriend and Second Chance Boyfriend.

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