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{Release Day & Exclusive Excerpt} Wishing (Forever #5) by Karen Booth (@KarenBBooth)

3/5/2019

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They both want to disappear. But together, they might let themselves be found. 

When Samantha Abby loses her magazine job and her musician boyfriend, she says goodbye to New York, her writing career, and guys with guitars. Back home, she discovers her parents have a houseguest—ridiculously-sexy-in-Chuck-Taylors rock star Duncan Hall. She doesn’t want to share her bathroom or her family with the exact kind of trouble that broke her heart. Plus, Duncan is brilliant. With her writing dream in a dumpster, spending time with a beautiful guy whose creativity earns countless accolades is just salt in the wound. 

Duncan should be on top of the world, but after losing his best friend to drugs, success feels like a joke. Meanwhile, his parents express their continued disdain for his music and the film he made to cope. Samantha’s step-dad, Christopher Penman, is as close as Duncan gets to a father figure, and working with him on a new record is a dream-come-true. Duncan doesn’t want to lose out on this found family by getting romantic with Samantha, but she’s not only gorgeous and smart, she sees right through to his core. Duncan and Sam find themselves no longer wishing to disappear. But do they have the courage to let themselves be found? 

Wishing is the final book in the Forever series, set 8 years after the end of Back Forever. It is a stand-alone novella with an HEA. It originally appeared in the Exposed anthology.
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Exclusive Excerpt ~

*This is the scene where Samantha, an unemployed writer, gives musician/filmmaker Duncan a ride to his photo shoot for the charity calendar. Duncan has just discovered that she was dumped by her boyfriend and is more than a bit curious.*
 
"Tell me about the guy." Not my most subtle attempt, but there’s no telling if I'll have another chance.

"Michael."

I hold up a hand. “Okay, wait. Michael or Mike?”

“Michael. Always. He insisted.”

“Never trust a dude named Michael. Every Michael I have never known has been a total douchebag.”

“That's silly. What about Michael Jordan?"

“Don’t know him.”

She grins and slaps my thigh with the back of her hand. My dick is jumping to all sorts of conclusions. “Not what I mean. Surely Michael Jordan is not a douchebag.”

I shake my head because I’ll do anything to keep her smiling the way she is right now. "Can't trust him."

"You're telling me that if Michael Jordan were here in this car, you wouldn't trust him with your wallet or your guitar?"

"I mostly just wouldn't trust him with you."

By the way her head moves, I can tell she’s rolling her eyes. It’s adorable. "I can guarantee Michael Jordan would not make a pass at me."

“You’re wrong.” I take a drink of the bottle of water I brought with me. I need to slow down or calm down or something. I can’t keep up.

“No. I’m not.”

"We'll have to debate this some other time because I want to hear about your Michael. Michael, the idiot."

“Do you really want to insult one of your own? Michael’s a musician. Plays guitar. In a band. Just like you. Don’t you guys all stick together?”

I’m guessing by the way she says “musician” that she gives a guy zero credit for being one. It’s refreshing. “Depends. We can be just as good at turning on each other.”  

“Ah. You mean your band. I heard about how they turned on you after you made your film.”

Hearing anyone say it so matter-of-fact is painful. Like a blade plunged deep into my heart. “Yes. That’s a good example.”

“Well, in Michael’s case, his band stuck together. None of them had a problem covering up the fact that he was fucking a bunch of other women.”

It’s such a cliché, I almost want to laugh, but I know firsthand how often this shit happens. “I’m so sorry. Guys suck. Big time.”

 She drums her thumbs on the steering wheel. “Is this the part where I say that not all guys are terrible?”

“Nope. You will not hear any excuses from me. Only my condolences. And maybe you should give me Michael’s address so I can punch him in the face the next time I’m in New York.”

“Don’t bother. I don’t want anyone to waste any time or energy on him. He was a mistake. One of many. I need to stop making poor choices.”

“That’s pretty insightful considering this happened a few days ago.”

“I had a lot of time to think about it in the truck on the drive down. Now that I’m past the initial shock, I know that I just need a break from relationships.”

That’s as definitive a message as I could possibly get from the universe. Sam is a no-go. Now I just need to figure out how to be around her and not lose my mind.

"What about you?" she asks.

“What?” I’ve totally lost track of where we were in the conversation.
​
“Relationships. Your love life.”

This is a messy subject. Long-term and happiness are two things that don’t coexist in my world. I always find a way to sabotage it. "Too many things that didn't last. But it's not easy being with me. I'm no picnic."

She casts her sights over at me for an instant. "Why should anyone have to be a picnic? You are who you are. I'm sure I'm not much fun, either."

I like her response, but I'm not sure she means it. "People say that, but when the reality hits that they're in a relationship with someone who isn't home for two-thirds of the year and who can't sit still or can't stop creating, it eventually becomes exhausting."

"Is it exhausting for you? Being that way?"

“No one has ever asked me that before.” I feel a little bit like I can’t breathe. How did she get to the guts of it so quickly? “It is exhausting. My brain just won’t shut down a lot of the time. I feel bad for anyone who ever gets in the way.”

“My brain isn’t very quiet either. But that’s part of my problem with my writing. I get a shiny new idea and I chase it for a little bit, then I get bored and start something new.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. I have had a million false starts. Plenty of stuff gets thrown out. The important thing is to keep moving forward. I think you should keep writing.”

She sighs. “That’s nice of you to say, but you haven’t actually read any of my work. I think it’s time for me to try something new.”

I look out the car window as the never-ending stand of towering pine trees whizzes by. We pass the first sign for Raleigh. Almost there. A million things are tumbling through my head right now—how someone can be so cool, but still stick up for the fact that she did a job that involved horrible things. How drawn I am to her and how it’s clear that she doesn’t buy half the shit I say. How she’s putting love and relationships on the back burner.

We pull up to the James B. Hunt library on the NC State Campus. It’s a massive glass and metal structure standing alone, like a ship plopped down in the middle of dry land. It’s brand new and shiny, with silver louvers that go back and forth in undulating waves across the facade. It’s beautiful and impressive in a very clean, modern way.

“You said this is for a literacy calendar?” she asks as we climb out of the car.

“Yeah. It’s a charity project.”

She closes her door and stares at me. “I don’t get it. Is it rock stars reading books?”

“No. They picked guys from 30 under 30 lists. There’s a calendar of women, too. I was on a list for film, so they asked me.”

“But what’s the angle? If you’re going to sell a calendar and raise money, you need a hook.”

I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to actually explain this, but better now in the parking lot than inside in front of the photographer and anyone else working on the shoot. “Naked is the hook.”

Samantha props her sunglasses on top of her head and bugs her big blue eyes at me. “Naked.”

“Yes. The slogan is, ‘Expose yourself to a good book’.”
​
She’s eying me with her eyebrows raised. I am way too turned on. “Well, they chose well with you. I’ll give them that much.” She puts her sunglasses back on and marches ahead of me. I try so damn hard not to be happy, but I am. Don’t be happy. Stop fucking smiling.

About The Author ~

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​Karen Booth is a Midwestern girl transplanted in the South, raised on ‘80s music, and forever envious of Judy Blume. She is the author of more than twenty sexy contemporary romances.

Visit With Karen ~
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