Hiya My Little Predators!!
A few months ago I read Patch Up By Stephanie Witter & I loved it! It even made my Top 25 Books Of 2013 (there's a link to that list in the tabs somewhere near my banner). So when I hear that she just released a new scene but in Duke's POV, I started doing my happy dance. I was that excited.
***
Patch Up
By Stephanie Witter
Published: September 16th 2013
Skye followed her long time boyfriend to Seattle for their first year of college, but he dumped her after only a week. The relationship brought only pain and destruction in Skye's life, and yet, she can't bring herself to open up and live her life."What if I am already broken into pieces?"She hates to be touched, hiding under her oversized shirts and behind her wild frizzy hair. Even her bubbly roommate can't reach her. And yet ..."I'm the guy who knows how you can hurt so much that your insides feel like they're cut and bleeding."The tall, handsome, and tattooed TA in her psychology class changes everything when he literally collides with her and confronts her. For the first time in a long time, she wants to try and open up to this guy whose dark, intense eyes can't hide his own pain despite his dazzling smile getting to her.However, just when she's starting to live again, her ex-boyfriend comes back, breaking her time and time again, making it all the more complicated.She wants to fight for herself and for this building thing with the TA, even when he pushes her away, but can two broken people patch each other up?"I never thought colliding with someone could change lives, but it is possible."* Due to some shocking scenes, this novel is for readers of 18 and up.
This godamn headache isn't leaving. I guess it's the price you pay when you have spent most of last night partying hard and then screwing some random girl who’s name you can’t even remember. Walking in to the big room where I'll be a TA for a psychology class this semester, I close my eyes hoping that it will ease the pain some.
I love psychology, maybe it’s because I would be a perfect study case of a grieving bastard, but the best part is knowing how, in fact, most mental wounds can be healed. Not all, but most and it's a hopeful thing I want to remember and keep in the forefront of my mind when some days are harder than others; when I'm trying to find her, Juliet, in a crowd. Still three years later.
I take another step inside the room and just when I open my eyes, I bump hard into someone. A petite and slender someone with very feminine curves. Fast, I grab her forearm before she goes down.
Under my hand, I feel her whole body tensing and her intake of breath is so loud that it catches my attention. Normally, I wouldn't bother noticing someone of the opposite sex outside of a party, as gross as it sounds, I'm more of a fuck them and leave them kind of guy for quite some time now. I'm not that bad, really, but sex for me is a way to forget just for a little while. It's not even about lust, it's just easy, the easiest way I know to keep going on with my life for a little longer. But this one is not a normal girl.
She yanks her arm free from my grip, not once even looking up at me. She keeps her eyes down and her hands are hidden under overly long sleeves. In fact, her sweater is way too big for her thin body. What's that? I don't know why, but there's something in the pit of my stomach, something telling me that there's something wrong with her.
"Are you all right?" I ask her with a calm voice, trying to ease her some, she's wrung so tight that I wonder how she's able to function.
She takes a deep breath and starts looking up slowly, her eyes taking me in a little bit at a time, as if looking at me all at once would be too much for her. And finally, I can see her face. She is beautiful. But it is her big blue-grey eyes that do me in. It's such an unusual colour that I'm stuck looking like a dumb idiot. The bleakness and the caution in those eyes convince me that there really is something wrong with her.
"I'm fine," she answers with a weirdly detached voice as if she's trying too hard to down play it. To the untrained eye it would be convincing, but for me it's not. I know all too well what it is like to be in pain and to do everything possible to hide it. I do it by partying, screwing around and getting tattoos while others do it by closing themselves to the world.
"Hmm... good," I say and frown despite myself. I don't want to make her feel even more out of place than she must feel, but it's hard to stay cool. For once, for the first time in years, I'm worried about someone else. It's hard to take it in and deal with all these churning thoughts inside my head. After all, I don't even know the girl, I've never seen her before but all of a sudden I feel like I should break through the barriers she has up. Who am I to think I should or even could?
Suddenly, she crosses her arms tightly over her chest as if to protect herself from me, from letting me really see her, and she walks away toward an available seat close to the door, not once glancing back at me. I can't help myself but look at her as she turns on her MacBook and keeps her eyes glued to it, not once gazing around while waiting for Dills. She's not trying to make friends or find friends among the students already here. She's so closed off that she's even invisible to most of the people here, but I see her. I can see her with her wild hair, beautiful and elegant face, tiny body and yet so very feminine under the layers of too big clothes. I can see her way more than I've seen anybody else for a very long time. And it's freaking me out.
"Hey, Duke!" someone calls me. I turn around and see one of the other TAs waving me toward Dr Dills’ desk, if he ever gets here.
Just as I shake hands with the other guy and smile at the two girls also assisting Dills, the aforementioned man walks in, in all his hurried glory.
"I know, I know I'm late, but please turn on your laptops. Let's begin our first class of the semester. Thank you," he says in his baritone voice that carries though out the big room. He gives us, his TAs, a stack of papers to give the students. Without even looking at what I have in my hands, I walk fast to the corner where the strange girl is. She tenses again when she sees me approaching and focuses on my hands instead of my face. I feel myself frown some more as I give her the papers, but she's very careful not to touch me, just the papers. How odd.
"Bad first day?" I ask her, trying to make her talk. To be honest, she has one of the hottest voices I’ve ever heard, but that's not why I wanted her to talk. I just... I don't even know. She confuses me.
The girls sitting close to her are more interested in our conversation than she is and it's quite frustrating. I'm not used to be ignored or brushed off. With my tattoos, my exotic look and my "dangerous" vibes, girls are often quite into talking and flirting with me. Not her and it is very obvious. She doesn't even need to say "fuck off" for me to know that it is what she wants.
"And?"
Her cold voice takes me by surprise, though. I open my mouth and close it before I finally find my voice again. I'm seriously unprepared. "Hum... Nothing. It's just..."
"Sorry, but Dr. Dills is about to begin his lecture of the day."
How to be shut down in one easy lesson. Fuck, she's good. She looks up and when our eyes meet again, her blue-grey against my dark brown, she blushes, a cute pink hue invading her high cheekbones. I tilt my head on one side, taking her in, assessing her, trying to find a crack in her armour, but it's damn hard when you don't even know the name of that someone.
Her eyes release mine and I breath again. I don't know when I stopped breathing, but she got to me for some reason. Her eyes slowly begin to level down and then stop at my necklace. Suddenly, it's like the silver is burning me, like it's searing my skin and bones under her penetrating gaze and it reminds me of who I am, of what I carry inside, of who I failed. And it hurts all over again.
I clear my throat, bring a hand to the infinity symbol at the end of the necklace. I don't want her to look at it. In fact, I don't want to talk anymore. I'm one to talk about healing when all I'm still doing is self-destructing by acting like an asshole with nameless and faceless girls. Granted, it's way better than what I used to do, but still. It's not good enough to help someone else.
I nod to her and turn around, walking back to the corner where the other TAs are already seated. But when I take the last seat and put my hands in my lap, they're shaking. A lump forms in my throat and I have to force myself not to look back at her. It only lasts for the first ten minutes before I can't keep my eyes on Dr. Dills anymore. What is happening to me?
I turn my head slightly to the right and I immediately find her. It's very easy with her wild frizzy hair. Even from here I can see how focused she is. Her slender fingers seem to fly on the keyboard of her laptop. Her eyes are going to Dills and back to her screen with such an intensity that it lets me see the crack in her shield that I was looking for. The life inside of her is close, ready to burst free and it's inspiring. I don't know what her deal is, what she went through and why she is hiding, but I want to figure it out. I want to think that it's because I'm a nosey man, but if I dig deeper, it's something else, something akin to hope for myself. For the first time in the last three years, I want to feel better and not just pretend it.
Maybe helping someone else instead of focusing on my own pain is the key. Or maybe not, but when I put my mind to something, I don't back down that easily. Unless it becomes too painful.
I love psychology, maybe it’s because I would be a perfect study case of a grieving bastard, but the best part is knowing how, in fact, most mental wounds can be healed. Not all, but most and it's a hopeful thing I want to remember and keep in the forefront of my mind when some days are harder than others; when I'm trying to find her, Juliet, in a crowd. Still three years later.
I take another step inside the room and just when I open my eyes, I bump hard into someone. A petite and slender someone with very feminine curves. Fast, I grab her forearm before she goes down.
Under my hand, I feel her whole body tensing and her intake of breath is so loud that it catches my attention. Normally, I wouldn't bother noticing someone of the opposite sex outside of a party, as gross as it sounds, I'm more of a fuck them and leave them kind of guy for quite some time now. I'm not that bad, really, but sex for me is a way to forget just for a little while. It's not even about lust, it's just easy, the easiest way I know to keep going on with my life for a little longer. But this one is not a normal girl.
She yanks her arm free from my grip, not once even looking up at me. She keeps her eyes down and her hands are hidden under overly long sleeves. In fact, her sweater is way too big for her thin body. What's that? I don't know why, but there's something in the pit of my stomach, something telling me that there's something wrong with her.
"Are you all right?" I ask her with a calm voice, trying to ease her some, she's wrung so tight that I wonder how she's able to function.
She takes a deep breath and starts looking up slowly, her eyes taking me in a little bit at a time, as if looking at me all at once would be too much for her. And finally, I can see her face. She is beautiful. But it is her big blue-grey eyes that do me in. It's such an unusual colour that I'm stuck looking like a dumb idiot. The bleakness and the caution in those eyes convince me that there really is something wrong with her.
"I'm fine," she answers with a weirdly detached voice as if she's trying too hard to down play it. To the untrained eye it would be convincing, but for me it's not. I know all too well what it is like to be in pain and to do everything possible to hide it. I do it by partying, screwing around and getting tattoos while others do it by closing themselves to the world.
"Hmm... good," I say and frown despite myself. I don't want to make her feel even more out of place than she must feel, but it's hard to stay cool. For once, for the first time in years, I'm worried about someone else. It's hard to take it in and deal with all these churning thoughts inside my head. After all, I don't even know the girl, I've never seen her before but all of a sudden I feel like I should break through the barriers she has up. Who am I to think I should or even could?
Suddenly, she crosses her arms tightly over her chest as if to protect herself from me, from letting me really see her, and she walks away toward an available seat close to the door, not once glancing back at me. I can't help myself but look at her as she turns on her MacBook and keeps her eyes glued to it, not once gazing around while waiting for Dills. She's not trying to make friends or find friends among the students already here. She's so closed off that she's even invisible to most of the people here, but I see her. I can see her with her wild hair, beautiful and elegant face, tiny body and yet so very feminine under the layers of too big clothes. I can see her way more than I've seen anybody else for a very long time. And it's freaking me out.
"Hey, Duke!" someone calls me. I turn around and see one of the other TAs waving me toward Dr Dills’ desk, if he ever gets here.
Just as I shake hands with the other guy and smile at the two girls also assisting Dills, the aforementioned man walks in, in all his hurried glory.
"I know, I know I'm late, but please turn on your laptops. Let's begin our first class of the semester. Thank you," he says in his baritone voice that carries though out the big room. He gives us, his TAs, a stack of papers to give the students. Without even looking at what I have in my hands, I walk fast to the corner where the strange girl is. She tenses again when she sees me approaching and focuses on my hands instead of my face. I feel myself frown some more as I give her the papers, but she's very careful not to touch me, just the papers. How odd.
"Bad first day?" I ask her, trying to make her talk. To be honest, she has one of the hottest voices I’ve ever heard, but that's not why I wanted her to talk. I just... I don't even know. She confuses me.
The girls sitting close to her are more interested in our conversation than she is and it's quite frustrating. I'm not used to be ignored or brushed off. With my tattoos, my exotic look and my "dangerous" vibes, girls are often quite into talking and flirting with me. Not her and it is very obvious. She doesn't even need to say "fuck off" for me to know that it is what she wants.
"And?"
Her cold voice takes me by surprise, though. I open my mouth and close it before I finally find my voice again. I'm seriously unprepared. "Hum... Nothing. It's just..."
"Sorry, but Dr. Dills is about to begin his lecture of the day."
How to be shut down in one easy lesson. Fuck, she's good. She looks up and when our eyes meet again, her blue-grey against my dark brown, she blushes, a cute pink hue invading her high cheekbones. I tilt my head on one side, taking her in, assessing her, trying to find a crack in her armour, but it's damn hard when you don't even know the name of that someone.
Her eyes release mine and I breath again. I don't know when I stopped breathing, but she got to me for some reason. Her eyes slowly begin to level down and then stop at my necklace. Suddenly, it's like the silver is burning me, like it's searing my skin and bones under her penetrating gaze and it reminds me of who I am, of what I carry inside, of who I failed. And it hurts all over again.
I clear my throat, bring a hand to the infinity symbol at the end of the necklace. I don't want her to look at it. In fact, I don't want to talk anymore. I'm one to talk about healing when all I'm still doing is self-destructing by acting like an asshole with nameless and faceless girls. Granted, it's way better than what I used to do, but still. It's not good enough to help someone else.
I nod to her and turn around, walking back to the corner where the other TAs are already seated. But when I take the last seat and put my hands in my lap, they're shaking. A lump forms in my throat and I have to force myself not to look back at her. It only lasts for the first ten minutes before I can't keep my eyes on Dr. Dills anymore. What is happening to me?
I turn my head slightly to the right and I immediately find her. It's very easy with her wild frizzy hair. Even from here I can see how focused she is. Her slender fingers seem to fly on the keyboard of her laptop. Her eyes are going to Dills and back to her screen with such an intensity that it lets me see the crack in her shield that I was looking for. The life inside of her is close, ready to burst free and it's inspiring. I don't know what her deal is, what she went through and why she is hiding, but I want to figure it out. I want to think that it's because I'm a nosey man, but if I dig deeper, it's something else, something akin to hope for myself. For the first time in the last three years, I want to feel better and not just pretend it.
Maybe helping someone else instead of focusing on my own pain is the key. Or maybe not, but when I put my mind to something, I don't back down that easily. Unless it becomes too painful.
Originally Posted On: http://stephanie-witter.blogspot.fr/p/bonusextras.html
***
Author Info:Ten Things About Me:1. I read my Harry Potter's books so many times that it ruined them. I had to duct tape them but the pages are not well put together anymore. One day I should buy new copies.2. Until I was fourteen, I wanted to be a paleontologist. It might be because I saw Jurassic Park when I was a kid. I was able to tell you which dinosaurs were living at which era. It was quite freaky, really.3. I write Romance novels but I'm not the romantic kind of girl in real life. Not at all. There might be something to dig there in my weird brain.4. I have a black humor I unleash only when I'm with people I'm close, otherwise I may be seen as a heartless girl. Or just plain crazy. But I'm telling you right away, I have a heart and it's beating just fine.5. When I was a little kid - way too young to watch it - I had a child crush on Noah Wyle playing Dr. Carter in the TV show ER. And when I say that I was too young... I'm born in 1989! I'm lucky that my mother explained to me the difference between fiction and reality and let me watch almost everything. And guess what I'm watching these days then? Falling Skies because he is in this show too. Yes, I am hopeless.6. In the same idea, I had an obsession. For some years during my teenage days, I watched horror movies. When I watched The Exorcist for the first time - the old version - I laughed my ass off while my friends were freaking out. Never watch a horror movie with me or you will have a laughing idiot next to you during the whole thing.7. I am afraid of planes. I don't trust at all these flying machines. We don't have wings so we should stick to the ground and rock it. Last time I took a plane - a three hour flight - I had my fingers digging in the seat in front of me. My body ached for days afterward, just because I was expecting the plane to crash. Like me hugging the seat in front of me would have saved me.8. I'm a dog person. Cuddling with a dog is just so sweet when you're not feeling good.I'm an only child. I'm not sure, but I think it's one of the reasons why I'm always in my bubble, making up stories in my head. I can't tell you how many times I hit my head in stuffs, which may explain why I have so many quirks. Kidding. Sort of.9. My very first and most important passion is writing. You would never believe how many stories are in my head, waiting to be written. It's almost scary the mess in there. There will be some passionate love, some sweet love, some destructive love, forbidden love, impossible love, funny love, etc. If you are still here to read them, I'll be busy for a while!
***
Also for those of you who hasn't had the opportunity to read Patch Up, Mrs. Witter is hosting a GIVEAWAY, on her website, for 2 eCopies of Patch Up!
Go on over to this link to enter!
No comments:
Post a Comment