Still Me by Amy Patrick
(20Something #3)
Publication date: October 10th 2014
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
Synopsis:
Fall in love like a 20 Something….
23 year old Kenley Moran is going through a mid-life crisis… WAY early. Pushed since childhood by a nightmare stage-mom to use her looks to “land a rich man”, she’s reeling from a broken engagement and regretting the day she gave up her career in TV news for a guy.
Now Kenley’s determined to change her life, shunning makeup and fashion and fighting her way back into the highly competitive career she loves, off-camera this time. When she lands a producing job at Worldwide News Network in Atlanta, she plans to keep her head down, work hard, and prove she’s not just another pretty face. And vows NO ONE is EVER going to make her compromise herself again.
WNN anchor Larson Overstreet has it all—old money, good looks, a prestigious job, and more women than he can count throwing themselves at him. Problem is… none of it is real. He’s known his whole life that people are only interested in him for his fortune and his famous family name, in that order. Except for Kenley. The shy news producer isn’t interested in him at all.
Working closely with the anchor of her new show, Kenley’s dismayed to feel an instant spark. Larson’s everything she doesn’t want. He’s too good looking, too charming, and worst of all, too rich. She’s not looking for another big money honey. In fact, she’d prefer a nice little guy from the mailroom, maybe a guy who lives at home like she’s been forced to do.
But when they must travel together for a special report, Kenley realizes Larson’s not the spoiled pretty rich boy she pegged him as, and she’s not as immune to him as she’s pretended to be.
Now, even at the network level, what happens behind the scenes is the real story.
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AUTHOR BIO
Amy is a two-time Golden Heart finalist (2013 and 2014) who writes Young Adult fiction as Amy DeLuca and New Adult romance as Amy Patrick. She lives in Rhode Island with her husband and two sons and actually craves the heat and humidity of Mississippi, where she grew up. She's been a professional singer and news anchor and currently narrates audio books as well as working as a station host for a Boston TV station.
Author links:
Excerpt:
After what seemed like hours of torture, we finally came to an exit ramp featuring signs advertising food, gas, and lodging.
“Oh, thank God. I don’t think I could have walked any further really,” I admitted.
“You and me both. I can’t feel my face anymore. Is it still there?”
As I confirmed Larson’s face was indeed intact, the snow turned into sleet and freezing rain. “Great,” I muttered, beginning to speed walk to the top of the ramp. I would’ve run if I hadn’t been certain it would lead to leakage. Several gas stations, fast food restaurants, and even a hotel all stood at the top—in complete darkness.
“Shit. There’s no power—there must be some trees down on the lines near here,” he said.
The first frissons of panic struck me. I was already wetter than I wanted to be. “What are we going to do?”
Larson looked over at me, reading my face. “Don’t worry. We’ll find a bathroom… if you still need to… do you?”
“Of course! What? You thought I peed my pants?”
He laughed at my expression of horror. “I wouldn’t think less of you if you had—”
I slapped his arm, the panic downshifting to simple worry. “No. I’m still hanging onto my dignity and my bladder control… by a thread. But I really, really need to find a place.”
“Okay, let’s try some doors. Maybe one of these places is open even without power.”
The first gas station we approached was locked up tight. The second one, too, though it wore an apologetic sign: “Sorry. No power. No gas. No public restrooms.”
“Great.” Now that I’d allowed myself to think about it again, it was getting harder and harder to hold it. My bladder felt like it was soccer-ball-sized at this point and the internal burn it
produced should’ve been enough to power each and every one of these buildings.
I’d begun to stare longingly at the dark alley behind the next building, determining just how much of my clothing I’d have to remove to keep from wetting it when Larson spoke up in an excited tone.
“Hey, I think I see some signs of life up there in that Burger Barn.”
I squinted through the wintry mix. “Really? Oh, you’re right. There are people in there, with cell phones or flashlights or something.”
We reached the door, which thankfully opened, and I went straight for the ladies room with barely a word to anyone. Behind me I heard Larson greeting the crowd of fellow highway refugees. I returned to him a few minutes later, almost euphoric with the comfort of an empty bladder and the heat retained in the restaurant.
“Burger?” Larson held out a paper-wrapped package. “They lost electricity, but the grill is gas—the manager said they’re cooking up everything in the freezer and giving it away.”
I grabbed the warm sandwich, holding it up to one numb cheek and then the other, sighing with pleasure. “I have never wanted a patty of mystery meat so much in my life.”
Larson gave me a sly grin and raised one brow. “And I never thought I’d be jealous of a Deluxe Barn-y Burger. Are you going to eat it or make out with it?”
I wrinkled my nose and pushed at his chest. “Shut up and eat your sandwich.”
