Blog Tour | The Only Thing Worse Than Me Is You by Lily Anderson [Excerpt]

26114524Title: The Only Thing Worse Than Me Is You
Author: Lily Anderson
Publication: May 17th 2016 by St. Martin’s Griffin
ISBN: 9781250079091 / 9781466891722
Are You Still There

synopsisTrixie Watson has two very important goals for senior year: to finally save enough to buy the set of Doctor Who figurines at the local comic books store, and to place third in her class and knock Ben West–and his horrendous new mustache that he spent all summer growing–down to number four.
Trixie will do anything to get her name ranked over Ben’s, including give up sleep and comic books–well, maybe not comic books–but definitely sleep. After all, the war of Watson v. West is as vicious as the Doctor v. Daleks and Browncoats v. Alliance combined, and it goes all the way back to the infamous monkey bars incident in the first grade. Over a decade later, it’s time to declare a champion once and for all.
The war is Trixie’s for the winning, until her best friend starts dating Ben’s best friend and the two are unceremoniously dumped together and told to play nice. Finding common ground is odious and tooth-pullingly-painful, but Trixie and Ben’s cautious truce slowly transforms into a fandom-based tentative friendship. When Trixie’s best friend gets expelled for cheating and Trixie cries foul play, however, they have to choose who to believe and which side they’re on–and they might not pick the same side.

excerpt

THE ONLY THING WORSE THAN ME IS YOU
by Lily Anderson
Chapter One
        Ben West spent summer vacation growing a handlebar mustache.
        Seriously.
        Hovering over his upper lip—possibly glued there—was a bushy monstrosity that shouted, “Look out, senior class, I’m gonna tie some chicks to the train tracks and then go on safari with my good friend Teddy Roosevelt. Bully!”
        I blindly swatted at Harper with my comic book, trying to alert her to the fact that there was a mustachioed moron trying to blend in with the other people entering campus.
        “I know I should have made flash cards for the poems that Cline assigned,” she said, elbowing me back hard, both acknowledging that she wasn’t blind and that she hated when I interrupted her monologues about the summer reading list. “But I found Mrs. Bergman’s sociolinguistics syllabus on the U of O website and I’m sure she’ll use the same one here.”
        The mustache twitched an attempt at freedom, edging away from West’s ferrety nose as he tried to shove past a group of nervous looking freshmen. It might have been looking at me and Harper, but its owner was doing everything possible to ignore us, the planter box we were sitting on, and anything else that might have been east of the wrought iron gate.
        “So,” Harper continued, louder than necessary considering we were sitting two inches apart. “I thought I’d get a head start. But now I’m afraid that we were supposed to memorize the poems for Cline. He never responded to my emails.”
        Pushing my comic aside, I braced my hands against the brick ledge. The mustache was daring me to say something. Harper could hear it too, as evidenced by her staring up at the sun and muttering, “Or you could, you know, not do this.”
 “Hey, West,” I called, ignoring the clucks of protest coming from my left. “I’m pretty sure your milk mustache curdled. Do you need a napkin?”
Ben West lurched to a stop, one foot inside of the gate. Even on the first day of school, he hadn’t managed to find a clean uniform. His polo was a series of baggy wrinkles, half tucked into a pair of dingy khakis. He turned his head. If the mustache had been able to give me the finger, it would have. Instead, it stared back at me with its curlicue fists raised on either side of West’s thin mouth.
“Hey, Harper,” he said. He cut his eyes at me and grumbled, “Trixie.”
        I leaned back, offering the slowest of slow claps. “Great job, West. You have correctly named us. I, however, may need to change your mantle. Do you prefer Yosemite Sam or Doc Holliday? I definitely think it should be cowboy related.”
        “Isn’t it cruel to make the freshmen walk past you?” he asked me, pushing the ratty brown hair out of his eyes. “Or is it some kind of ritual hazing?”
        “Gotta scare them straight.” I gestured to my blonde associate. “Besides, I’ve got Harper to soften the blow. It’s like good cop, bad cop.”
        “It is nothing like good cop, bad cop. We’re waiting for Meg,” Harper said, flushing under the smattering of freckles across her cheeks as she turned back to the parking lot, undoubtedly trying to escape to the special place in her head where pop quizzes—and student council vice presidents—lived. She removed her headband,  pushing it back in place until she once again looked like Sleeping Beauty in pink glasses and khakis. Whereas I continued to look like I’d slept on my ponytail.
Which I had because it is cruel to start school on a Wednesday.
        “Is it heavy?” I asked Ben, waving at his mustache. “Like weight training for your face? Or are you just trying to compensate for your narrow shoulders?”
        He gave a half-hearted leer at my polo. “I could ask the same thing of your bra.”
        My arms flew automatically to cover my chest, but I seemed to be able to only conjure the consonants of the curses I wanted to hurl at him. In his usual show of bad form, West took this as some sort of victory.
        “As you were,” he said, jumping back into the line of uniforms on their way to the main building. He passed too close to Kenneth Pollack, who shoved him hard into the main gate, growling, “Watch it, nerd.”
        “School for geniuses, Kenneth,” Harper called. “We’re all nerds.”
        Kenneth flipped her off absentmindedly as West brushed himself off and darted past Mike Shepherd into the main building.
        “Brute,” Harper said under her breath.
        I scuffed the planter box with the heels of my mandatory Mary Janes. “I’m off my game. My brain is still on summer vacation. I totally left myself open to that cheap trick.”
        “I was referring to Kenneth, not Ben,” she frowned. “But, yes, you should have known better. Ben’s been using that bra line since fourth grade.”
As a rule, I refused to admit when Harper was right before eight in the morning. It would just lead to a full day of her gloating. I hopped off of the planter and scooped up my messenger bag, shoving my comic inside.
“Come on. I’m over waiting for Meg. She’s undoubtedly choosing hair care over punctuality. Again.”
Harper slid bonelessly to her feet, sighing with enough force to slump her shoulders as she followed me through the front gate and up the stairs. The sunlight refracted against her pale hair every time her neck swiveled to look behind us. Without my massive aviator sunglasses, I was sure I would have been blinded by the glare.
“What’s with you?” I asked, kicking a stray pebble out of the way.
“What? Nothing.” Her head snapped back to attention, knocking her glasses askew. She quickly straightened them with two trembling hands. “Nothing. I was just thinking that maybe senior year might be a good time for you to end your war with Ben. You’d have more time to study and read comics and…”
        Unlike the tardy Meg, Harper was tall enough that I could look at her without craning my neck downward. It made it easier to level her with a droll stare. Sometimes, it’s better to save one’s wit and just let the stupidity of a thought do the talking.
She rolled her eyes and clucked again, breezing past me to open the door.
        “Or not,” she said, swinging the door open and letting me slip past her. “Year ten of Watson v. West starts now. But if one of you brings up the day he pushed you off the monkey bars, I am taking custody of Meg and we are going to sit with the yearbook staff during lunch.”
        “I accept those terms,” I grinned. “Now help me think of historical figures with mustaches. Hitler and Stalin are entirely too obvious. I need to brainstorm before we get homework.”

abouttheauthorlilyLily Anderson is an elementary school librarian and Melvil Dewey fangirl with an ever-growing collection of musical theater tattoos and Harry Potter ephemera. She lives in Northern California. THE ONLY THING WORSE THAN ME IS YOU is her debut novel.

www.mslilyanderson.com
Twitter | Facebook | Tumblr


Thanks for stopping by!

Author Interview | E.J. Mellow ft. The Divide + Excerpt

81xCfsCtfiL“It’s the yin yang of writing. So I would say I try to focus and take great care with both.” says Author E.J. Mellow when asked about writing plots and characters. Read more of this interview and learn more things about The Divide. (Like, who designed the book’s gorgeous cover. 😉 )

qnaFirst of all, I really enjoyed The Dreamer and am already looking forward for book 2! Can you tell us more about The Divide and what shall we expect from it?
Yay! So happy to hear you enjoyed The Dreamer! And thank you so much for having me for this Q&A :-).
The Divide is a lot more action packed. While I think The Dreamer took a little more time in the beginning with getting to know our main protagonist and her life, The Divide definitely jumps right into things. Now that we have a familiarity with Molly and what’s going on with her dreams, the world of Terra really expands in this next one. Molly and her powers get tested in ways no one is prepared for and there were honestly a lot of scenes that were tough for me to write, emotionally. So if you’re a fan of action and surprising twists, The Divide will be a fun ride ;-).
Where did the idea of writing a series about dreams came from?
So here’s the crazy thing, the idea for The Dreamer actually started as a dream. I’ve always had very vivid ones and find them extremely fascinating. A while back I had one that lasted a whole week. Yup, a week! With the same characters and plot continuing on each night. It felt like I was going to sleep and clicking on a TV show and…there was a guy…and yes, he was very good looking (I’m sure you’re seeing some similarities here). I woke up one morning, a couple days into the dreams, and actually felt sad that I wasn’t still there. It was so odd (and probably a little insane). Eventually the dreams stopped, but I kept thinking about them and how strange it was to have recurring ones for so many nights. I told a friend about it, and through that conversation is how my story for this series came about.
If you would compare the writing process of The Dreamer to The Divide, what were the changes that you’ve encountered?
I actually wrote The Dreamer more than three years ago. So spent a very long time reworking, editing, and sending it to very trusted friends and editors to read before it was published this past May. In that regard the process was much longer than writing The Divide. I also think knowing my characters more allowed me to finish the second book quicker. But don’t get me wrong, there were the same concerns I came across in book two, like making sure the storyline was consistent and details of my world didn’t contradict itself from book 1, etc. Having really good editors helps tremendously with this! Overall though, I think the major changes were knowing how to manage my writing, marketing, and editing more fluidly. I’m hoping this will continue to smooth out with each book!
What did you enjoy most about writing book 2 for the Dreamland series?
Definitely getting to explore more of Terra and Molly’s strengths. While I set out to write a protagonist that was very relatable and, for lack of a better word, normal, I’m always a sucker for some kick-ass ladies. And I think Molly starts to step it up in The Divide that way, since she kind of has no choice but to ;-).
When writing, do you focus more on your plot or your characters?
Great question! I think to have a good story you need to concentrate on both. Without a good plot driving the characters, they can fall flat. And if you have poorly developed characters no one would really care about the story. It’s the yin yang of writing. So I would say I try to focus and take great care with both.
One of the many things that I love about your books are the covers! They’re beautiful! Who designed them?
Aw, thank you so much! I actually design the covers and all my marketing materials. My background is in advertising and graphic design, so it’s super fun to be able to apply that to my writing. The original photo for The Dreamer is from underwater photographer Elena Kalis and the one for The Divide is from Dmitry Laudin.
Is there a story of how you came up with the characters’ names?
I’m so glad you asked this question! Names are extremely important in this series as you probably learned from reading The Dreamer. So when choosing them I did a lot of research behind the meanings of each, making sure I chose ones that would invoke each characters strongest personality trait. And here’s a hint, if you ever wanted to do a little digging about certain characters introduced, look up their name for that will tell you a bit more about their ‘could be’ purpose in the book.
Molly’s perspective in the 1st book was really engaging. Was it easy to write in her POV? 
First, that’s so kind of you to say. Thank you! And it was easy and hard to write in her POV. Easy in the sense that she’s a 24 year old woman, young and new in New York where her biggest responsibilities are her job and friends—A time that I can still very vividly remember living. It was hard in the sense that some, if not most, of her behavior wasn’t aligned with my own. I think I have more Becca in me, at least when it comes to talking bluntly ;-).
Will we be seeing more of Dev’s side of the story in this book?
Most definitely! Dev’s history comes to the surface in many ways (good and bad) in The Divide.
Have you always liked fantasy stories? (Both as a reader and a writer).
Fantasy is definitely one of my favorites. There’s something about a world so unlike ours, but at the same time similar that’s very alluring. It’s the ultimate mental escape for me especially when there’s magic elements involved. I’m a sucker for magic!

excerpt

THE DIVIDE
by EJ Mellow
Clapping echoes in the room, and I glance up to find Dev casually leaning against the wall next to the door. His eyes are narrowed with appraisal, and his mouth is half-cocked in his signature amused smile. “Impressive,” he says as he pushes off the wall and slowly walks toward us. His sudden appearance and graceful saunter rock me out of my fighting mind-set. I take in his broad shoulders and the way his shirt hugs him like a jealous girlfriend.
Letting go of Rae, I tuck strands of hair that fell from my ponytail behind my ear, suddenly aware of how sweaty I am.
“Thanks.”
“I’d like to see what you could do against a real opponent,” he says with a smirk, crossing his arms. The stance calls attention to his biceps, the same ones I once found myself mortifyingly squeezing.
I leer at him. “And I’m sure you think you’re said opponent?”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
Rae fluidly stands from his fall and drapes an arm around me. “Molly here is a natural.”
I snort out a laugh. “And I’m sure retaining past Dreamers’ abilities has nothing to do with it.”
“Don’t be so modest.” He squeezes my shoulder.
“Have you practiced with any weapons yet?” Dev moves toward an empty wall in the center of the room. Placing a hand on it, the area drops out, revealing a rack of diverse armament. There’s an abundance of blades, and my eyes pause on two hook swords, knowing how they feel in my grip, before traveling on to the axes, clubs, daggers, unusual looking guns, and blunt staffs. Here is where Dev stands, taking out two Bō—a Japanese long staff weapon. Somehow I know all the names and uses of these objects, except for some of the guns. Those remain foreign.
The only difference with these weapons and the ones I’d find at home is the material in which they are made—the same strange gunmetal aluminum as the Arcus. And if my memories from past Dreamers are anything to go by, they can be filled with an altered form of Navitas, making them glow the hot blue-white, and lethal toward any opponent.
“I was saving that part of the training for later,” Rae explains soberly.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Dev asks, handling the Bō naturally as he walks back to us. “She seems to have grasped her hand-to-hand combat for today. Why not finish with a little sparring?”
“See what I mean about the tough teacher,” Rae mutters to me.
“What do you say, Molly? Care to give me a go?” Dev taunts, holding one Bō while twirling the other.
I narrow my eyes and extend a hand. “I know I won’t hear the end of it until I do.”
He gives me one of his sexy grins while throwing me the staff. I snatch it from the air, immediately knowing I’ve been trained in the art of bōjutus.
I smile back.
Oh, it’s on.
As if reading my thoughts and without any further warning, Dev sweeps toward me. His intense blue eyes are the last things I register before my mind switches off and I lunge back.

Want more? There’s a book blitz happening right now with
more excerpts and a major giveaway!
Click here to view post and enter!

abouttheauthor

ejE.J. Mellow is the author behind the NA Contemporary fantasy trilogy The Dreamland Series. When she’s not busy moonlighting in the realm of make-believe, she can be found doodling, buried in a book (usually this one), or playing video games. Residing in Brroklyn, NY, she is a member of Romance Writers of America and their fantasy, futuristic & paranormal chapter.

www.ejmellow.com
Twitter | Instagram | Facebook | Goodreads


81xCfsCtfiLMolly finally uncovers the truth about the strange dreams that plagued her sanity for weeks. Now destined to accept a clandestine role, Molly must find the strength and courage buried deep to push forward and succeed.

With the help of Dev, the roguish blue-eyed man of her dreams—whose dark past resurfaces to haunt him—Molly prepares to test the limits of her newly awakened powers and set right a world on the edge of being consumed by nightmares.

But when an unknown shadow stalks her every step and a shocking revelation about her ancestry comes to light, Molly may find herself forced to make a decision that could leave her alone in the dark and standing on the wrong side of a divide.

 The Divide (Dreamland #2)

Purchase links for The Divide:
Amazon | iBooks | Nook | Kobo 

Thanks for stopping by!

Author Interview | Kris Dinnison ft. You and Me and Him + Excerpt

9780544301122_hresRead on this fun interview with Author Kris Dinnison and get a sneak peek of her debut novel, You and Me and Him.

qna

When and where did the idea of writing You and Me and Him begun?
I’d just been rejected by an MFA program, and I had to decide whether or not I was going to try and be a writer anyway. About the same time I decided to keep writing, I saw this Neil Gaiman quote that just said “finish something”. I made that my mantra. I had a note in my writing ideas notebook that just said “a girl who works in a record store.” When I wrote it down I thought she was someone else, but when I started writing, Maggie’s voice came right away, complete with a set of experiences that went way beyond the record store. I started writing and didn’t allow myself to edit until I had a complete first draft written. That was hard because so much of that first draft was really horrible writing.
Were there any struggles you experienced in writing You and Me and Him?
Oh my gosh, yes. There were lots of struggles. Sometimes it feels like the whole thing is made up of struggles. I love writing, but it’s hard work, and there were so many things I didn’t know about writing a novel. I did dozens of drafts, and it still felt really rough to me. I was lucky to have some amazing mentors along the way, but there was also a lot of rejection and a lot of having to keep working even when I felt like I didn’t know what I was doing.
What/Who inspired you to write your debut novel?
In terms of my main character, I was really inspired by the idea that so many of the YA books about overweight teens are stories of a physical transformation: the character loses weight and that solves most of his or her problems. I wanted to write a book about a girl who is overweight, but who isn’t defined by that, who understands her physical body is just one aspect of who she is. Maggie taught me so much about that along the way.
I’m sensing Tom is the “Him” in the title of your novel, then who is the “You” and the “Me” between Maggie and Nash?
Well, actually the “Him” could be either Tom or Nash depending on where you are in the book and who Maggie’s feeling closest to in that moment. The “Me” is definitely Maggie since she’s the first person narrator in the book.
This is a question I love asking writers. Is there a particular character in your novel that you see yourself in? If yes, who and why?
Maggie is the most obvious answer to this question. People who know me will think that right away, but actually there is a lot of me in almost all the characters. Maggie is sort of how I wish I’d been in high school, but I moved during high school, like Tom, and I had really high standards for my friends, like Nash, and I had crushes on people who would never like me back, like CeCe, so I feel like all of the characters are me and not me in different ways.
Maggie is overweight and Nash is gay. Was it easy for you to write these characters that the book defined as “outsiders”?
I’ve had struggles with body image my whole life, so Maggie’s experiences were a little easier for me to access than Nash’s. I actually struggled quite a bit with feeling like I didn’t have the right to tell Nash’s story. But I did a lot of research, a lot of interviews, and I realized that my job as a writer is to tell my character’s story, not to tell a story that represents every person in a particular demographic. I modeled Nash after some guys I interviewed, and I made some really intentional decisions about which experiences he would have and not have. But in the end, he’s an individual, not a type. That’s what I want in all my characters.
Have you always seen yourself as a writer in the YA demographic?
I haven’t really seen myself as a writer at all until recently. But because I taught high school, and then I was a librarian, I read a lot of YA and have been really blown away by the quality of YA writing and the amazing compelling stories YA writers are telling these days. I also feel really fascinated by that moment of life where you go from being a kid to an adult, a moment that happens almost instantly in some cultures, but which gets stretched out over years in ours. Having a foot in each world, like so many teens do, is a really interesting place to tell stories about.
Describe You and Me and Him in 1 word.
Sincere.
Are you currently working on a new project?
Of course! I have two books in different stages of being finished, plus another I have outlined that I’m really excited to start. I’ve also been working on a lot of shorter fiction and essays and trying to get stuff accepted to different journals and magazines.
What shall we expect in You and Me and Him?
I think you can expect characters that might infuriate you but who are making mistakes and getting their hearts broken in ways that feel real.

excerpt

YOU AND ME AND HIM
by Kris Dinnison
Houghton Mifflin Harcourt 2015
Chapter 1
Let’s get one thing straight from the very beginning: I am not one of those shrinking-violet fat girls. I don’t sit alone in my bedroom playing Billie Holiday albums while drowning my sorrows in a carton of ice cream. Okay, once—maybe twice—a year, but not every weekend. I have friends, a great job in a vintage record store, and even some minor social status. But I am an overweight teenage girl going to an American high school. It doesn’t take a clairvoyant to figure out there are going to be some issues.
The current issue: Which outfit will maximize the four and half pounds I lost this summer and minimize the remaining flesh? As usual, my mom’s annual summer diet plan for me didn’t result in any magical transformations, so for the debut of my junior year, I decide on my flowy hippie-chick skirt and a black T-shirt with sleeves too long for the heat of early September. I don’t love this outfit. But it fits, kind of. And it’s not hideous. Most of the clothes in my size look like they were designed for retirees in Miami Beach, Florida. I do not like my shirts bedazzled in any way. Someone in the plus-size fashion industry thinks if you put shiny stuff on a T-shirt, no one will notice the size of the person underneath. This particular first-day outfit is nothing tragic, but it’s more of a fashion whisper than a fashion statement.
I climb on the bus and make a beeline for Nash.
“Maggie.” He gives me a slight wave, then covers it by smoothing down his rockabilly sideburns. (He grooms them, no lie, with mustache wax.) I slide into the seat beside him. Nash shifts upward as the seat sags in my direction.
“Move your skinny ass over,” I say.
“Like my skinny ass has a choice?” He moves. “Nice skirt.” Nash squinches up his face like something smells bad.
I sigh. Nash is all about edgy, and my sixties Woodstock wear does not scream edgy. I feel a trickle of sweat drip down between my shoulder blades.
“Nice hair,” I say.
Nash pats his shellacked do, making sure it has kept its height through the bus ride. Finding all the follicles in place, he turns his attention to me. He fishes a peppermint lip balm out of his pocket and hands it over. He then picks three or four of my long, brown hairs off my shirt. Nash always grooms me like some fastidious chimpanzee mother. Finally, he straightens the silver charm on its chain around my neck. The charm was Nash’s gift to me on the first day of high school. It’s this cool spiral; he says it’s to remind me that he’s got my back. Always. I pretty much never take the thing off.
“Thanks,” I say when he’s done making me presentable.
Nash holds out his hand. “Did you bring the goods?” 
I dig in my bag and pull out a Ziploc baggie. Inside is one of my signature breakfast bars, tailored especially for Nash: cashews, chunky peanut butter, oats, cinnamon, dried cherries, and a few dark chocolate chips. I know. Shocking, right? A fat girl who bakes. So cliché. But I started making these bars for Nash a few years back when his dad left and things went to shit at his house. He was living on ramen noodles and cold cereal, so now the bars are part of our morning routine.
I wave the baggie over my head, keeping his breakfast just out of reach. “Who loves you, baby?” 
He snatches the bag from my hand and pinches off a corner of the bar, popping it in his mouth. “Mmmmmm.” His mouth is full. “What’s different?” 
“A little cardamom. Fewer cherries. It was too sweet.” 
“Well done, Mags.” 
I wait as he chews, looking out the window at the rows of identical cedar split-levels lining the streets. It’s a decent neighborhood, but it’s in between: not new, but not old enough or cool enough to be vintage, either.
As soon as he finishes breakfast, Nash glances around to see if anyone is listening and leans in close. “Check out the hottie in row two.” 
I tilt my head up above the back of the seats and catch a glimpse of tousled, longish brown hair in the left-hand seat. Ducking back down, I ask, “Who is it?” without letting my lips move.
Nash shrugs, and we fan ourselves with our hands. Nash and I have the same taste in almost everything: teachers, music, art, literature, and boys. The good news is we can mock anyone who doesn’t share our aesthetic. The bad news is we have to lay claim to guys we both crush on. There just aren’t that many crush-worthy possibilities in Cedar Ridge.
“Dibs!” we say at the same time.
Nash narrows his eyes at me. We’ve been doing the dibs thing since elementary school, but we didn’t start using it on boys until seventh grade. It’s kind of a running joke with us, this idea that we can have a guy just by claiming him. Never once have any of the crushes reciprocated, but the ritual allows the one with dibs to discuss the object of his or her affection as if romance was a realistic possibility.
“Okay.” I hold my hands up against Nash’s world-famous death stare. “You can have him.” Not a big deal. I’m long past believing in the fairy tale of the handsome stranger who sees past my not-quite-modelesque figure to discover the fabulous Maggie within. After all, that would be some headline: “fat girl snags new guy.” I gaze out the window as the bus turns the corner and rolls along the lakefront. The evergreens still cast long shadows a good distance into the lake from the shore. But starting about thirty feet out, the water glitters with early morning sunlight. I steal another glance at the new guy and cross my fingers that Nash has an actual chance with this one.

abouttheauthor

krisKris Dinnison has spent nearly two decades as a teacher and librarian while dreaming of becoming a writer. Nowadays, she helps run the retail and café businesses she owns with her husband, hikes, and spins classic vinyl. You and Me and Him is her debut YA novel. She lives and writes in Spokane, Washington.
www.krisdinnison.net
Twitter | Instagram | FacebookGoodreads

M9780544301122_hresaggie and Nash are outsiders: She’s overweight. He’s out of the closet. They’re best friends, and they’ve helped each other survive their small-minded small town. But when Tom moves to Cedar Ridge at the start of the school year they have something unexpected in common—feelings for the same guy. As emotions take hold, Maggie and Nash’s friendship is put to the ultimate test . . . Up until now they have always chosen each other, but what if winning someone’s heart means losing your soul mate?

You and Me and Him

Purchase links for You and Me and Him:
Amazon | Auntie’s Bookstore | Barnes & Noble | Books-A-Million| IndieBound | Houghton Mifflin Harcourt | iTunes | Powell’s

 Thanks for stopping by!