by: Kelsey Humphreys
Series: Heartlanders
Genre: Contemporary Romance/Romantic Comedy
Release Date: November 1, 2022
Publisher: Magnamour
When an introverted artist catches feelings for an extroverted executive, exactly how sweaty, awkward and embarrassingly painful will her fall be? (Spoiler alert: very.)
Skye Canton is focused on her goals: Make it as an artist in New York, quit her dayjob, finally prove herself to her family back in Oklahoma. Noise canceling headphones on, brush in hand, #livingherbestintrovertlife.
All of which gets blown to bits by a gorgeous, smart, magnetic Texas boy turned Manhattan man-about-town.
Matthew James is full of surprises, tempting Skye to give in and reveal her own secrets. Her bestie, her sisters and even her grumpy cat are on TeamMatt. But he doesn’t fit into her well-drawn plans.
Plus, he’s so smooth and so hot…he reminds her of her past, where she learned the hard way - when there’s this much heat, she’s bound to get burned.
This standalone is a smart, steamy, full-length lovers to enemies to lovers, contemporary romance. It’s a reverse grumpy-sunshine with surprise twists, laugh-out-loud banter, a happily ever after, and a sisters group text thread you’ll wish you could join. This is the first book in the Heartlanders Series.
“Hey.” Matt smirks as he puts his right hand on my shoulder. Is he going to hug me? Kiss me? Right here on our first non-date date that I chose, in front of all these randos walking by? Wait, did I have onions at lunch?
He smiles and pulls up his left leg with his left hand to stretch his hamstring, using me for balance. I wobble a tiny bit. Unable to think about anything other than the fireworks happening on my left shoulder. “You ready to go, Usain Bolt?” He switches hands and legs.
“I’m not that fast.” I backtrack. “Actually, I’m not even fast.” He’s fast. Crap. Aaand my hives have joined us. “I-I was just giving you a hard time.”
“No, no. No going back now.” He chuckles. “I fully intend to watch you run ahead of me for what, ten miles?”
I laugh too loud at the number. “How about five miles?”
“Five miles.” He motions his hand out wide for me to lead the way. I pull out my headphones, and he gives me a look. Knowing he was hoping to talk to me gives me a weird confidence boost, so I say “Enjoy the view” with a smirk as I take off. Did I really just say that? With my tiny butt?
After about twenty minutes, which is two miles for me, I turn to jog backward for a couple steps so I can smile at him. But he is actually way behind me. Which is surprising. He looks relaxed, smiling, has his own headphones in. So, what’s he doing way back there? I turn back around and enjoy the AJR song that fits my pace. I turn again just before I hit three miles, curious about what he’s doing.
He’s running away from me?
Oh, Lord.
He’s doubling back.
I’m so slow he’s making laps back and forth behind me! I feel my face flush, but I’m already bright pink from running anyway.
He’s probably bored out of his mind.
He’s probably a retired Olympian.
He probably runs six-minute miles.
I turn up the volume on my headphones and get moving.
That fourth mile I am hauling. And it feels amazing. My nerves have been successfully drilled into the street, and I’m feeling confident in my athleticism. I’m not even sweating that badly. So, I turn back again to see if he’s still sprinting three miles to every one of mine. He’s not as far and gives me a huge smile.
And my foot catches on a bubbling crack in the asphalt.
Because I am me.
No, no, no, remain upright! Upright! But my leg defies physics, launching up into the sky with abandon.
Why did I think I could run backward? In what universe do I do that without wiping out?
I go down in a crumple. Not gracefully. Not firm and swift like a felled tree. No, I go down like an air-blown Christmas yard snowman that’s been unplugged. I think I even heard a sad trombone sound as my tailbone lunged toward the earth’s crust.
I try to catch myself with my right arm, scraping my elbow so hard that both my skin and my shirt rip open. Blood again. Second bloody date in as many weeks. What. Is. Happening?
Matt’s kneeling next to me one second later, having bound over at the speed of light.
“Are you okay?” He’s smiling as he says it, because he saw that crumple in all its glory.
I just half laugh, half groan and put my head in my hands in mortification. Then I wince at the pain in my elbow. “I’m fine.”
He gently puts his left hand on my shoulder and pulls my hands away from my eyes with his right. “That was”—he starts laughing as we make eye contact, he just can’t help it—“the most epic fall I’ve ever seen in my life!”
“Matt!” I can’t help but laugh too.
“I’m sorry, but you should’ve seen it. How did your leg even do that?” I start to stand, and he takes both of my hands in his. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, calming his laughter. “Are you sure you’re okay? Can you walk?”
“Yeah, it’s just my elbow.”
He pulls out his phone. “There’s a CVS just a couple blocks away.”
“It’s fine. I can clean it when I get home,” I say.
“Nope, can’t have you bleeding out on the subway. C’mon.” I’m about to protest again, but he grabs my left hand with his right, holding our interlocked fingers tightly as he leads me forward.
He’s holding my hand.
He grins down at me as we stop at the crosswalk. “Well, at least I didn’t slow you down, right?” He starts laughing again, and I laugh too.
He smiles and pulls up his left leg with his left hand to stretch his hamstring, using me for balance. I wobble a tiny bit. Unable to think about anything other than the fireworks happening on my left shoulder. “You ready to go, Usain Bolt?” He switches hands and legs.
“I’m not that fast.” I backtrack. “Actually, I’m not even fast.” He’s fast. Crap. Aaand my hives have joined us. “I-I was just giving you a hard time.”
“No, no. No going back now.” He chuckles. “I fully intend to watch you run ahead of me for what, ten miles?”
I laugh too loud at the number. “How about five miles?”
“Five miles.” He motions his hand out wide for me to lead the way. I pull out my headphones, and he gives me a look. Knowing he was hoping to talk to me gives me a weird confidence boost, so I say “Enjoy the view” with a smirk as I take off. Did I really just say that? With my tiny butt?
After about twenty minutes, which is two miles for me, I turn to jog backward for a couple steps so I can smile at him. But he is actually way behind me. Which is surprising. He looks relaxed, smiling, has his own headphones in. So, what’s he doing way back there? I turn back around and enjoy the AJR song that fits my pace. I turn again just before I hit three miles, curious about what he’s doing.
He’s running away from me?
Oh, Lord.
He’s doubling back.
I’m so slow he’s making laps back and forth behind me! I feel my face flush, but I’m already bright pink from running anyway.
He’s probably bored out of his mind.
He’s probably a retired Olympian.
He probably runs six-minute miles.
I turn up the volume on my headphones and get moving.
That fourth mile I am hauling. And it feels amazing. My nerves have been successfully drilled into the street, and I’m feeling confident in my athleticism. I’m not even sweating that badly. So, I turn back again to see if he’s still sprinting three miles to every one of mine. He’s not as far and gives me a huge smile.
And my foot catches on a bubbling crack in the asphalt.
Because I am me.
No, no, no, remain upright! Upright! But my leg defies physics, launching up into the sky with abandon.
Why did I think I could run backward? In what universe do I do that without wiping out?
I go down in a crumple. Not gracefully. Not firm and swift like a felled tree. No, I go down like an air-blown Christmas yard snowman that’s been unplugged. I think I even heard a sad trombone sound as my tailbone lunged toward the earth’s crust.
I try to catch myself with my right arm, scraping my elbow so hard that both my skin and my shirt rip open. Blood again. Second bloody date in as many weeks. What. Is. Happening?
Matt’s kneeling next to me one second later, having bound over at the speed of light.
“Are you okay?” He’s smiling as he says it, because he saw that crumple in all its glory.
I just half laugh, half groan and put my head in my hands in mortification. Then I wince at the pain in my elbow. “I’m fine.”
He gently puts his left hand on my shoulder and pulls my hands away from my eyes with his right. “That was”—he starts laughing as we make eye contact, he just can’t help it—“the most epic fall I’ve ever seen in my life!”
“Matt!” I can’t help but laugh too.
“I’m sorry, but you should’ve seen it. How did your leg even do that?” I start to stand, and he takes both of my hands in his. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, calming his laughter. “Are you sure you’re okay? Can you walk?”
“Yeah, it’s just my elbow.”
He pulls out his phone. “There’s a CVS just a couple blocks away.”
“It’s fine. I can clean it when I get home,” I say.
“Nope, can’t have you bleeding out on the subway. C’mon.” I’m about to protest again, but he grabs my left hand with his right, holding our interlocked fingers tightly as he leads me forward.
He’s holding my hand.
He grins down at me as we stop at the crosswalk. “Well, at least I didn’t slow you down, right?” He starts laughing again, and I laugh too.
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The Heartlanders Series:
Things I Overshared releases December 6, 2022
Places to find Kelsey Humphreys:
A romantic comedy - yes!
ReplyDeleteAnd what a great cover.
Thank you for sharing this.
This sounds like a fun romantic comedy. I like the cover and excerpt.
ReplyDeleteThe cover is really cute. This sounds like a good story. I enjoyed the excerpt.
ReplyDelete