Release Day Spotlight! Not Enough by Mia Hoddell

Not Enough
Mia Hoddell

Release Date: 11/16/15
Genre: Upper YA/NA contemporary romance
Page Count: 324

Heat level: Sweet (closed door)
Content warning: There is some strong language

About the Book:

Neve Colvin isn’t good enough. As an introvert, her life is a never-ending list of labels and criticism. Pressures to change come from everyone—including the one person she thought would love her unconditionally … her mother. All Neve wants is acceptance, but surrounded by extroverts it’s a wish that’s nearly impossible to fulfil.

For Neve there’s only one solution: anyone disapproving must go. Even if it means only one person will remain.

That person is her lifelong friend Blake Reynolds. He’s seen the fights with her mum, the breakdowns caused by attacks on her personality, and the battles for acceptance. Each time she is left shattered and questioning who she is, he’s the one to collect the pieces of her broken heart. Shielding her from the cruelty is his only concern. But how can he protect her when Neve is concealing a secret so dark?

Blake thinks he knows everything about her, and with their relationship developing, he assumes Neve trusts him fully. However, there is one memory Neve is too ashamed of to share. Revealing it will test Blake’s loyalty beyond what she could ever ask, and Blake is the only friend she can’t afford to lose. He’s the one person capable of dragging her from the darkness plaguing her, but with pressures to conform increasing, even Blake may not be enough to pull her back this time.

Excerpt:

PROLOGUE

From: Neve Colvin
To: Neve Colvin

One word, four letters. It sticks in my throat and refuses to come out. Maybe it’s not the right time, or maybe I’m just scared. But it’s normal to be scared, right? Saying that word isn’t something a person should undertake lightly. Once the word is out, it can’t be reclaimed. Once it’s said it becomes real and actions must follow.

Words can hurt—I should know that well by now. They cut deeper than a knife, and the wounds last longer even if they’re invisible. Some people will show off scars like they’re a trophy, telling you the story behind each and every one no matter how boring or traumatic the event was. The scars are like a brand to them, and I’m thankful that the ones left by your words aren’t visible to the naked eye for everyone to gawp at.

It doesn’t take a psychopath, murderer, or unstable person to hurl words that are meant to maim. Anyone can, and anyone does. They cut to the core, repeatedly stabbing and twisting deeper into the heart. They play with peoples’ minds and no one can see the consequences until it’s too late. A person can take a lot of verbal abuse, but there’s always a limit.

Everyone breaks.

Everyone crumbles.

Like a riverbank that is battered repeatedly by the water, bits of me have been chipped off and worn away. If you could see inside of me you’d notice I’m no longer whole, but rather a scratched and scarred person who’s been pieced back together too many times. I’m ugly on the inside. Fragments are missing, wounds are both fresh and old; I’m bleeding and I can’t stop your latest comments from slicing me open and adding to the unusual piece of artwork.

I’ve weathered a lot of attacks, but I’ve finally reached my limit.

Saying it should be easy. You’ve destroyed everything I’ve been working for, shattered every dream, and broken the person I want to be. You’ve pushed me beyond my limit, yet I can’t do it. I feel weak because of it. It makes me hate myself more. That you have this kind of control over me when you don’t even care isn’t right, but it is what it is.

A part of me wants to say it. I want to convince myself it’s the best solution. After all, you’re never going to change, are you? What’s the point in sticking around to suffer more?

Regardless, sitting here with salty tears dripping from my face I gaze out at the horizon through blurred eyes. I haven’t been able to stop them since I ran out on you. My eyeliner has long since stopped marking me with black trails, I’m now just blotchy … a mess. My sleeves are incapable of drying my face, too wet to be of any use, and I only have one tissue on me. Not that my body cares. The wounds ripping open inside of me all over again refuse to allow the tears to stop, and in a way I don’t want them to. It’s cathartic … the only way I can release what you’ve done to me.

A chilly, evening breeze hits my back and sends a shiver down my spine. It stirs the edges of my zip-up hoodie, causing them to whip at my sides. Tendrils of hair stick to my face from the water trails. The pieces that have escaped that fate swarm around my head like a cluster of snakes. As strands catch my face in the wind, it’s like they’re adding more poison to my already broken mind. I just wish they’d numb it.

You did this. It’s all your fault.

You’re responsible for making me come out here to write this. I’m sitting here, looking down at the river, watching as the current batters the water against the rocks and wondering if it would feel as bad as what you’ve done. The amount of water makes my tears seem small in comparison. In fact, my whole life seems small. Because that’s what you think, isn’t it? It’s what everyone thinks of me: that I’m weird, don’t fit in, don’t act normally. My choices aren’t good enough for anyone. I was meant to have a chance like you said, but you couldn’t even give me that. Instead you broke the one thing I wanted more than anything, making it impossible.

I knew you were mean, but I didn’t think you’d go that far.

It’s not something you have to repeat on a daily basis either. I know I’m not the daughter you wanted. I get that I’m a disappointment and fail you at every turn, but it’s not something I strive for.

All I want is to be accepted for who I am, but you can’t …

One word, four letters. That’s all it is. Four tiny letters and everything will be solved for me.

What reviewers are saying:

"From the dedication at the beginning up to the end this was both a thought provoking and an emotional read for me and I loved it!" - Sandra @ JeanzBookReadNReview

"This story tugged at my heartstrings, played on my every emotion. It was a beautifully written story of how an introverted young girl blossoms into a beautiful young woman." - Keren Hughes, Author of Nothing Like The First Time

"A heartbreaking read that sometimes had me close to tears." - Susan @ Ladies Living in Bookland

"Heartbreaking. Powerful. Real ... I literally lived the pages, not read them ... It's so well and beautifully written, it is more than just another YA novel." - Cristina @ Crazy Beautiful Reads

ONLY 0.99 FOR THE RELEASE WEEK!

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About the Author:

#1 Amazon bestselling author, Mia Hoddell, lives in the UK with her family and two cats. She spends most of her time writing or reading, loves anything romantic, and has an overactive imagination that keeps her up until the early hours of the morning. 

Mia has written over ten titles including her Seasons of Change series, the Chequered Flag series, the Elemental Killers series, and her standalone novels False Finder and Not Enough. 
Her favorite genres are contemporary romance or romantic suspense, and with an ever growing list of ideas she is trying to keep up with the speed at which her imagination generates them. She also designs book covers on her website M Designs.

Author Links:

Website | Twitter | Goodreads  Blog | Facebook

Giveaway:

1 x $5 Amazon Gift Card

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Book Spotlight: Emeralds and Pearls by C. Spencer-Upton

EMERALDS AND PEARLS

Semi-Precious Series
Book 1

C. Spencer-Upton

Genre:  Young Adult 

Print Length: 283 pages

Publisher: Pink Bow Publishing

Publication Date:  October 11, 2013

About the Book:

I've spent seventeen years being a wallflower. Seventeen years, watching people live their lives, while mine stood still. I was happy for those years, nothing new happened because I never let it, every day was the same and predictable.

When my parents told me we were moving...to another state, I freaked.

I spent the first week, after the move, wishing I could move back. But then something changed, I became a someone, and to begin with I enjoyed it, but I soon learned, some things aren't always as they seem.

I have two lives now. Both of them are testing me, pushing me to my limits.

Amazon | Kobo 

AUTHOR BIO:

Born and raised in a small mining town in Derbyshire. Caroline (The C in 'C Spencer-Upton') has spent her adult years building a home and a future based on what's in front of her, and for a while, that was all she needed. Family, friends and the dog. 

In 2012, that all changed. Her new love of reading became a drug. Living in a fantasy became her happy place to escape from reality. Her imagination came to life and ideas that had laid dormant for years, came rushing back to the surface and Emeralds And Pearls was conceived, her debut novel.
In October 2013, that new chapter in her life started and Emeralds And Pearls were introduced to the world. 

Caroline works a normal 8-5 job which has nothing to do with literature. When people discover that she has written a novel, the look of shock on their faces is enough to bring a smug smile to her face, knowing that people underestimate her.
Writing is her escape.  She loves reading about you guys enjoying something she loves.
This is the start of a new story of her own and can't wait for you guys to be a part of it.

AUTHOR LINKS:

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

GIVEAWAY DETAILS:

GRAND PRIZE: Paperback of Emeralds and Pearls & handmade keychain

1 RUNNERS UP:  one runner-up will receive a Keychain 

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Author Interview: Understudy by Cheyanne Young

Understudy
Cheyanne Young

Genre: YA Contemporary Romance
Date of Publication: Feb 15th, 2014
Number of pages: 178
Cover Artist: GoOnWrite.com

Kindle  | Paperback



Book Description:
The high school play is in two months and senior Wren Barlow just became director. Wren still isn't over the fact that she got stiffed as a stagehand instead of the lead role that she totally deserved. Now she is in charge of rehearsals, costumes, navigating around cast member hookups and managing the real life drama at home.
The principal counts on her to succeed because tickets have been sold and the money has been spent. But when he drops a gorgeous bad boy on her and wants him to help the play for extra credit, she falls hard for someone she knows she can't date.
With everything spinning out of control, the mysterious and secretive detention king named Derek has a few tricks up his sleeve and wants to help—too bad Wren is scared to give him a chance to prove himself.

More Romance Please would like to extend a warm welcome to Cheyanne Yound, author of Understudy.  
Cheyanne, first, thank you for dropping by. Please tell us where you are from and who or what most influenced you to become a writer?

My love of reading is what influenced me to write my own stories. I also credit Sarah Dessen and her books for influencing the genre I chose to write. I’ve always wanted to write stories that make readers feel the way I felt when reading her books.

If you were to be left alone on an island, what three books would you take with you?

The Lord of the Rings Trilogy

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

The WOOL Omnibus

What are your most and least favorite movie genres?

I love comedies that make me laugh until I cry and I’m always a sucker for a good chick flick. I absolutely will not watch horror films.

If you could choose any man for your next book cover, who would he be?

Joseph Gordon-Levitt, for sure

When you are on a deadline, what aspect of your ‘regular’ life suffers most?

My house and/or all the chores that go with living life as a regular person. Laundry, dishes, groceries… they all get ignored!

What advice would you give aspiring authors?

READ! And then write. And then keep reading and never ever think your first draft is good enough.

What advice would you give seasoned writers?

Don’t compare yourself to other writers. We all have our own journey.

When reading for pleasure, do you prefer a physical or electronic book?

I love them both equally. If it’s purely pleasure reading then I love the feel of a book in my hands. But the convenience of ebooks make reading on the go perfect since I can switch from Kindle to phone app to computer.

From the first stroke of a pen (or laptop), how long did it take you get published?

I started seriously writing in 2009 and my first book came out in the middle of 2013. So, to answer: way longer than I ever imagined!

Did you ever feel like calling it quits?

Pretty much five or six times a day.

Thank you so much for joining us today, Cheyanne. We really enjoyed the insights. Good luck with Understudy!

Excerpt:

Chapter 1

It’s two forty-five on the dot and my stomach is nestled firmly in my throat. Ms. Barlow sits in her director’s chair at the back of the theater arts classroom. She tells me to stand on the zebra print x made of tape in front of the white board, in the place she usually stands while she’s teaching class. Today is the first day I’ve seen the zebra print x. I wonder if that’s the same zebra print tape she took away from a freshman last week.

The classroom is abnormally dark with a single spotlight shining directly on my face. I wish I’d worn makeup. My nose is too oily, I just know it. Three stapled-together pages of Ms. Barlow’s original script shake in my hands as I stand, waiting for her signal to start.

She has a peacock feather tucked behind her ear and a pen in her hand as she scribbles something on her clipboard. Her bright orange hair is gray in the dark. I clear my throat.

“Yes Wren,” she says without taking her eyes off her clipboard. “You were auditioning for a minor role, but then you switched for the role of Gretchen? Am I reading your chicken scratch handwriting correctly?”

“Yes ma’am,” I say, wondering if I should tell her I signed up for auditions while writing on someone’s back in the hallway before class and that’s why my handwriting resembles chicken scratch. I wasn’t going to audition at all until Mom pointed out the requirements in The Art Institute of Lawson catalog places a strong emphasis on extracurricular activities. And if I’m going to be in a school play for the sole purpose of winning the affections of my dream college, I might as well do it right. Even if my best friend is also auditioning for the lead role.

Ms. Barlow stares at me over the rim of her purple teardrop glasses, appraising me as if she doesn’t see me in class every day.

“You do know Gretchen’s role includes a lot of kissing with the male costar?”

I didn’t know that, but I nod anyway. It’s too late to back out now. Plus I like kissing. I can handle kissing.

Ms. Barlow laces her fingers together and rests them in her lap on top of her clipboard. “You may begin.”

I swallow. The words on my paper blur into a mess of jumbled letters that form nonexistent words. Good thing I have it memorized. I crumple the papers and hold them in my clenched fist.

“Jeremy? Is that you?” I squint my eyes, which comes naturally with the blinding spotlight on me and take a step forward. “Jeremy, get down! What the hell are you thinkin’? Are you crazy?”

“Stop.” Ms. Barlow’s hand flies out. She tilts her head to glare at me over the rim of her glasses. “Why do you sound like a melodramatic southern belle?”

“Because my character lives in Alabama?”

She shakes her head. “No. Do it again.”

My heart pounds so hard it turns my chest into goo. “Jeremy! Get down! What the hell are you thinking—are you crazy?”

Ms. Barlow lowers her voice and assumes Jeremy’s lines. “What do you care?” she says with a snarl.

“Of course I care.” I clench my chest. “Jeremy, you can’t jump.”

“Give me three good reasons why I shouldn’t jump off this bridge and end my worthless life right now. Actually, just give me one.”

I heave a sigh, a big dramatic one like I’ve practiced in front of my mirror for the last two days. Unfortunately it comes out like I’m choking on my own spit. I ignore the teacher’s disappointed nod. “How about this one?” I say, tossing my hands up in surrender as I stare at the empty desk in front of me, pretending it’s Jeremy. “I’m in love with you.”

“You’re too fat,” Ms. Barlow says.

“Huh?” That isn’t the script.

She marks something on her clipboard and flips to the next page. “I’m sorry Wren. Despite your…attempted…acting, you know I’d love to give you the lead role but you’re just too fat.”

“I’m not fat,” I say confidently, because I know I’m not fat. Is she even allowed to say that to a teenage girl? Sure, I gained a few pounds over the summer but that hardly makes me fat. Plus, I’m on day twenty-six of the 20 Minute Abs DVD, and if I tighten my core I totally have a six pack under the inch or so of flab.

“Gretchen is five feet ten inches and a hundred and five pounds. She’s an aspiring model.”

“It doesn’t say that in the script.” I wag my papers at her.

Ms. Barlow’s short hair flies around her face as she whips her glasses to the top of her head. “That’s irrelevant. It says that in my mind and I am the writer and the director.”

I wish the lights were on so I could glare at her, and not just at the darkish blob I can see. I don’t stomp my foot on the floor, but I want to. “I’m telling Mom.”

She waves away my threat with a flourish of her hand. “Good. And while you’re at it, tell her to stop filling the house with ding-dongs and Twinkies. It’ll do you both a favor.”

Okay. This is about to blow up to epic-Barlow-like proportions if I don’t do something to scale it back. I smooth my hands over my shirt and stand straight. “You’re right, Aunt Barlow, I’m sorry. But I really want this part so if there’s anything I can do to make myself perfect for the role, please let me know.”

“I’m Ms. Barlow while in school. I’m not your aunt right now, I’m your director.”

“Yes,” I say, humbling myself to her greatness, something she laps up like starved puppy. Ms. Barlow starred in Broadway plays in her younger years, before age and three divorces and heaps of melodrama took its toll and made her resemble a haggard man.

“Why do you even want this role? You watched me slave over this script all summer and you never cared.”

“I care,” I say. But she’s right. I don’t care about this stupid school play.

So even though I have no interest in a school play, probably because my mom, the failed actress, and my aunt, the failed Broadway star-turned-theater arts teacher shoved acting down my throat since I was in infancy, I am going to get this role. And then my picture will be put in the yearbook and The Art Institute of Lawson will be impressed and they will accept me and I’ll get an awesome job as an interior decorator.

That all starts with Wren Barlow playing the lead role in the Lawson High School play.

Ms. Barlow taps her foot on the footrest in her tall chair. She scribbles something on her clipboard that makes her nose crunch up like she’s smelled something bad. “Thanks for auditioning, Wren. Will you send in the next student?”

About the Author:

Cheyanne is a native Texan with a fear of cold weather and a coffee addiction that probably needs an intervention. She loves books, sarcasm, nail polish and paid holidays. She lives near the beach with her family, one spoiled rotten puppy and a cat who is most likely plotting to take over the world.
She also writes under the pen name Amy Sparling.

Author Contacts:
Website | Twitter | Goodreads

Tour giveaway details 

5 ebooks 

$20 Amazon Gift Card

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