One Night to Fall by Kelsey Kingsley
Today we have the blog tour for One Night to Fall by Kelsey Kingsley! Check it out and grab your copy today!
Patrick Kinney wasn’t a god. He was a parasite, and nobody worships a parasite.
Patrick Kinney was a glob of sticky, persistent peanut butter stuck to the roof of Kinsey McKenna’s mouth, and she craved him.
In fact, she had been craving him ever since he set foot in River Canyon, Connecticut, when they were just three years old. And she hated it ever step of the way. (Well, sort of.)
But Patrick has a plan to fix it, and set the wrong things right. Can he turn it all around with one night and a sweet, but painful, trip down memory lane?
Fall in love again in this novella of firsts, second chances, and a little town on the coast of Connecticut, where everything meant everything.
About Kelsey Kingsley:
Kelsey Kingsley grew up in the great state of New York, and still lives there with her family and a cat named Ethel. When she isn’t writing her fingers to the bone, she enjoys a good (or bad) book, reruns ofFrasier, ruining the lives of her Sims, and singing and dancing in the kitchen. She somehow survives off a diet of tea, doughnuts, and French fries. However, she hates cheese and listening to people chew. You’ve been warned.
Connect with Kelsey:
Enter Kelsey’s Giveaway:
I expected him to keep his grip on my waist, pressing me against places simultaneously foreign and familiar, but he didn’t. He let my body slide along the front of his until my feet were on the ground, planted firmly to the sidewalk, where I had kissed him in darkness thousands of times before.
And then, in my mind, I was sixteen years old, in my thirty-two-year-old body.
I could stand on my toes, I told myself, watching his mouth. I could pull him down to me like I always had, and bite that upper lip. I could kiss him the way I knew he liked. The way I had remembered after all those years. How could I forget?
His lips parted, framed by a layer of stubble. “You can let go now,” he said under his breath, looking down at me through hooded eyes. “If you want to.”
I had to force my eyes away, and wrenched my hands from his neck, taking a step back.
Distance was needed, distance was good.
Distance was torture.
He couldn’t hide the disappointment. He didn’t even try.