Showing posts with label Kendra C. Highley. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kendra C. Highley. Show all posts

Friday, November 25, 2016

"The Bad Boy Bargain" by Kendra C. Highley

GUEST POST and GIVEAWAY
The Bad Boy Bargain
by Kendra C. Highley


The Bad Boy Bargain by Kendra C. Highley is currently on tour with Chapter by Chapter Blog Tours. The tour stops here today for a guest post by the author, an excerpt, and a giveaway. Please be sure to visit the other tour stops as well.


More books by this author: Matt Archer: Bloodlines (read my blog post), Matt Archer: Redemption (read my blog post), and Unstrung (read my blog post).

Description
Baseball player Kyle Sawyer has many labels: bad boy, delinquent, ladies’ man, fearless outfielder ... Only one of them is actually true. But then sweet ballet dancer Faith Gladwell asks him to help wreck her reputation, and everything goes sideways.
Faith knows a thing or two about love, and what she had with her cheating jerk of an ex wasn’t it. When he starts spreading rumors about her being an Ice Queen, Faith decides it’s time to let a little bad into her life.
Lucky for her, Kyle Sawyer - dark, dangerous, totally swoonworthy Kyle Sawyer - is landscaping her backyard over Spring Break. Shirtless. And if she can convince him to play along, "dating" Kyle will silence the rumors.
But Faith’s plan threatens to expose Sawyer’s biggest secret of all ... and that’s a risk he’s not willing to take.
Disclaimer: This book contains drop-the-book-and-fan-yourself kisses ... and touches. Fall in love with a bad boy at your own risk.

Excerpt
Chapter One
Kyle
Badass, troublemaker, girl magnet—familiar words always followed Kyle from his locker to his senior English classroom. Or from the cafeteria to the parking lot. Or from the locker room to the baseball field. Anywhere he went, the whispers followed.
Today, it went something like, “Ooh, I know who we should vote most likely to drop out before graduation,” as he walked by. Or, “I heard he banged two girls at once at North Texas last weekend. College girls, man!” Or, “Dude, I heard MLB scouts are coming to the games to watch him play.”
He wished that last one were true.
Kyle zipped his hoodie up tighter, acting like he couldn’t hear a word. The dark red hoodie and a pair of headphones were pretty thin armor, even if he did encourage the stories…the lies. Suttonville High was a big enough maze of suck without letting the truth out.
And no way, no how, was he showing any sort of weakness ever again.
“Dude! Wait up!” a guy called.
For a second, Kyle stiffened. Old habits died hard. But he recognized the voice and let his shoulders relax. Cade Adams, unlike the hundreds of rich, snobby kids crowding the halls, was worth waiting for. He slowed his stride until Cade caught up, looking disheveled. For an amused moment, he wondered if Cade was running from a pack of zombified football players, then he noticed the pleading look on Cade’s face. The same one he’d ignored from a half dozen other guys.
He shook his head. “Nope, still not going.”
“It’s supposed to be a great party,” Cade said, running a hand over his hair to coerce it back into shape. It was a little too long, and curls kept springing up on his head. “First night of spring break, man. All the seniors are going.”
“Everyone except me,” Kyle said, quickening his pace.
“Come on,” Cade pleaded. “I need to be your wingman. Just once. Your leftovers would be a feast to us mere mortals.”
That’s what half the baseball team said, too. But if he let someone be his wingman, they’d find out really quick that he wasn’t what everyone assumed. “Sorry, not my scene.”
“Fine. Okay, I get it.” Cade’s crooked smile didn’t do much to hide his disappointment. “Just…think about it.”
He strode off, breezing through the hall filled with students in designer clothes as if his Iron Man T-shirt, wild hair, and faded jeans didn’t matter to him. And it didn’t—at some point last fall, Cade had become cool. Either that, or he’d stopped caring what any of them thought.
Lucky bastard.
Kyle stalked to chemistry, praying he’d pass today’s test. Being dyslexic turned the periodic table into a medieval torture device, even if his teacher was good about giving him tutoring on the down low. He couldn’t let anyone know he actually cared about his grades, aside from passing to play baseball.
“I heard he’s going out with some girl at Texas Woman’s,” a girl whispered to another as he walked in, as if he couldn’t hear them.
“Wish I knew for sure if anyone here has a chance,” said the other girl, a pretty senior who had a reputation of being a man-eater. “Because I’d ride that pony all over town.”
Kyle’s ears flamed up. To hide his discomfort, he rolled his neck, getting a little satisfaction out of the wary stares after the vertebrae cracked. That’s right, the scary kid just cracked his back. You puny humans shouldn’t try that at home.
The bell rang and he sank into his desk, adopting his typical pose of “I’m only here because the truant officer made me show up today” with his legs stretched out in the aisle. Mrs. Moody, the chem teacher, rolled her eyes. She saw right through him. And if she could, how much longer would it be before everyone else did?
During the test—in which chemical compounds morphed into ancient Hebrew right before his eyes—he couldn’t shake the conversation with Cade. He felt bad about letting the guy down, especially since he hadn’t been much of a friend the last few years, but he hated those parties because of the baggage that rode on them. Namely, his reputation.
Because who at Suttonville would believe that the resident delinquent, skateboard-riding, drag-racing, smart-mouthed chick magnet Kyle Sawyer was actually none of those things?
[Want more? Click below to read a longer excerpt.]


Praise for the Book
"The Bad Boy Bargain is everything you'd want in a book: an intriguing story, lovable characters, a swoon-worthy guy, some humor, and a whole lot of heart....This was a sweet and heartwarming page-turner that I could not put down. I'm always a fan of Kendra C. Highley's books, but this one is a new favorite!" ~ Erin Fletcher, Author, All Laced Up
"This sweet, adorable romance ticked all the boxes for me. It was a quick, entertaining read that left me with so many good feels. I'll definitely be checking out more of this author's work in future." ~ Siobhan Davis, My YA & NA Obsession
"Lies, fear, trust, and love all come together in this great read. What will happen with Kyle starts to feel something for Faith? Will she want to know everything about him, or is this truly just a game of revenge? I have a love of YA. I could read the genre every single day. This book does not disappoint. The characters are well developed and the story plays out perfectly. I couldn't help but fall for Kyle and be sympathetic to all he and Faith were going through. Great story!" ~ Michelle Dare, Once Upon an Alpha
"I absolutely loved this book. It's well written and kept me hooked right from the start. I probably shouldn't have started reading it so close to bedtime because I was struggling to put it down and it was the first thing I reached for when I woke up. It ticks all the right boxes for me and I would definitely recommend it especially if you like your sweet teen romance novels." ~ Danielle Duncan, Chapters Through Life
"With refreshingly realistic characters, a good foundation and moral to the story, I highly recommend The Bad Boy Bargain to young adults and adults who want to remember the first stirrings of a crush." ~ Erica Chilson, Wicked Reads

Guest Post by the Author
5 Things You Didn't Know About Me
1.  I played classical violin from third grade through my freshman year in college. I was good enough to make (last chair) it into the orchestra at the University of Oklahoma, but quit because I was stinking up the place compared to the music majors. J
2.   I’m left handed, but I bowl, golf, and pitch a ball with my right hand. If I try to do those things with my left hand, it feels totally wrong. Weird, right?
3.   My first date with my husband was in 1988. He was fifteen and I was sixteen, and our date was to watch Die Hard - in the theater.
4.   If I had money to burn, I’d buy a 1969 Mercury Comet ... not because it was the coolest car ever, but because it’s the first car I remember riding around in with my mother. It was white, with red interior, and those cars remind me of her (she passed in 1990).
5.   My husband and I plan to retire to Orlando. Yes, we are retiring to Florida ... it’s a cliché until you know why. My husband’s dream has been to drive boats back and forth between resorts and parks at Disney World when he retires. I’m going to be a greeter. That way, I can wear Mickey Mouse ears all the time and that makes me happy!

About the Author
Kendra C. Highley lives in north Texas with her husband and two children. She also serves as staff to four self-important and high-powered cats. This, according to the cats, is her most important job. She believes in everyday magic, extraordinary love stories, and the restorative powers of dark chocolate.








Giveaway
Enter the tour-wide giveaway for a chance to win a $25 Amazon gift card, a paperback copy of Defying Gravity, and bookmarks from Finding Perfect, Defying Gravity, and The Bad Boy Bargain (US only).

Links

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

"Unstrung" by Kendra C. Highley

EXCERPT and GIVEAWAY
Unstrung
by Kendra C. Highley


Unstrung is currently on tour with Reading Addiction Book Tours. The tour stops here today for an excerpt and a giveaway. Please be sure to visit the other tour stops as well.


For more books by this author, please check out my blog post on Matt Archer: Bloodlines and my blog post on Matt Archer: Redemption.

Description
Lexa Pate, seventeen-year-old thief extraordinaire, has burned a bridge or two in her life. You don’t make a career out of stealing other people’s property without making enemies.
When a risky job goes from bad to worse, Lexa and her adopted family find themselves on Precipice Corporation’s hit list because they’ve accidentally stolen the wrong thing - plans for a new model of genetically engineered super humans. Now, every bounty hunter, cop on the take, and snitch in the city is after them.
Lexa’s world crumbles around her as she fights to keep her family safe even as someone strolls out of her forgotten past. Quinn claims to know who Lexa really is, but can she trust a stranger she met while robbing his boss?
More importantly, does she really want to know what Quinn has to tell her?
Based on the fairy tale Pinocchio, Unstrung takes you into a near future world where the lines between fake and real are blurred, all that’s pristine isn’t always innocent, and being a criminal isn’t always wrong.

Book Video


Excerpt
Chapter One: Chips and Crackers
The safe unlocks with a quiet click. Moving slowly, just in case there’s a tripwire I haven’t disabled, I open the door and reach inside. The chip rests in a foam-lined box. I ease it free and slip it into a small pocket inside the gear pouch strapped around my waist.
Robbery number sixty-three: success.
I close the safe, then start a cautious trek back to the window. I’m careful to retrace my steps, traveling the exact path I used to come in. So far I’ve bypassed a laser tripwire net, a few pressure plates, and a motion sensor. Kind of disappointing. I thought one of Precipice’s labs would be more heavily secured, and I like a challenge. This room is too easy—just four wide lab tables with thick, black tops, some data equipment on the counters and the wall safe. A few terminals even provide a soft blue glow to work by. Nothing to get in my way or force me into the motion sensor’s path. Much, much too easy.
Which means something’s wrong.
I take a deep breath, trying to refocus. C’mon, Lexa. Time to concentrate, girl.
It’s no good; the nagging feeling I’m in trouble won’t shake loose. The Quad’s businesses aren’t usually lax on security. Their systems are top-notch and with the cops in their pockets, it takes an audacious thief to break into a Precipice Industries building. Honestly, I’m the only one crazy enough to take this job, but being seventeen means I’m allowed to do stupid things, especially for a good paycheck.
I’m almost back to the window when a cool breeze ripples across my skin, like the climate control system has started. Immediately, a blue light clicks on in the ceiling and my whole body goes numb. The beam has me flash frozen in place. Skies, what is this? Why can’t I move? My mind’s screaming for me to get out of here, to run, but it’s like my legs don’t understand the commands.
I push against whatever is holding me still, willing it to leave me alone. As if it hears my thoughts, the blue light turns off and I can move again. It’s too late, though—the alarm starts shrieking. I dash for the window and slide onto the ledge. My heart slams in my chest, almost like it’s trying to reboot, which is bad since I’m on the eighth floor and the ground is far below. There’s no time to catch my breath, no time to calm down. I pat my gear pack, feeling for the data chip in the little pocket deep inside. At least I got what I came for. Making it home with my prize in hand will be a different story altogether.
It takes thirty seconds to test my climbing anchors, clip onto my cat-line and swing off the ledge. It takes another thirty seconds to rappel down the side of the brick building. The alarm is still shrieking overhead. From the dark of the alley, each light that comes on in the windows makes me move faster. At one point, a member of the night watch peeks outside. I flatten against the wall. This is going to be a close one. Maybe the closest yet.
A bead of sweat runs down my chest, trickling its way into my navel. It’s torture, but I stay pressed against the wall. Another bead follows the first, then another. I want to wipe them away so badly I have to grit my teeth to stay my hand. If I get caught…no, I can’t think about that right now. I won’t get caught.
After the guard moves away from the window, I punch the release on my climbing anchors, jumping clear as they fall to the ground from the roof. My cat-line comes down in a tangled wad. No time to fix it. I shove the whole kit—anchors, line and descent vest—into the saddlebag compartment on the back of my hover bike. She comes to life with a gentle hum and the propulsions on the bottom glow a faint purple. I special ordered that color because I like a little flash. If I’m going to get caught, I’ll do it with style.
I’d rather not get caught, though.
Sirens wail in the distance, closing fast. Hunched over the handle bars, I ease the bike onto the street behind the lab, then kick it into glide mode. The shadows of giant skyscrapers bear silent witness to my flight. In the clean order of Triarch City, I’m the one bit of chaos those buildings and their perfect little occupants might experience in the next week. Maren—the Quad’s leader—sees to that. Square pegs like me don’t fit into her world order.
Which is why the sirens are getting closer.
I kick the throttle into flight mode as I enter the ramp to the highway. The hover bike runs like molten glass and I streak down the dark street in a burst of orange light. Streetlamps become laser beams, their flashes the only indicator of just how fast I’m going. This time of night, there isn’t much traffic; good thing, because this run is dicey enough. Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t like endangering innocent people in the name of a job.
I hazard a look in my side mirrors. Flashing lights give chase. Stars, they’ve sent a hover tank after me. I have a jamming signal built into the bike’s computer, which keeps them from seeing me on their scanner. They have to rely on a visual search. Not easy to do—the tanks have to fly much higher than my bike, and they aren’t as fast. I have to hope speed’s enough to keep them at bay. My capture would make the cops’ night, what with the reward and all. I shiver, thinking about what awaits me in jail, especially since my boss wouldn’t bail me out. I’d be on my own.
The highway curves around the lake and I lean into the turn, zipping past the last monorail station. Beyond the empty train platform, the road stretches dark and cold, leading to the warehouse district on the far side of the lake. Once I cross the bridge, I’ll be in the home stretch. I hit the boosters and the hover bike lurches forward, the thrusters throwing off a brilliant yellow glow that’s reflected in the water under the bridge. The flashing lights drop back.
The exit ramp at the end of the line comes up fast. I cut back on the throttle and grind my way onto the side streets, taking a hard turn between two steel-sided warehouses. At the end of the alley, I drop the bike into glide mode and the thrusters change back to purple. Another hard turn—more slowly this time—and the bike pops through the narrow doorway into Turpin’s building. The metal door rolls down automatically once I’m safely inside. Holding my breath, I cut the engine so the cops won’t know I’m here. It takes a minute or two for all the sirens to pass into the distance. When they do, I permit myself a sigh of relief. Just the one.
I pull off my helmet and toss it in the corner, where it clatters against plastic boxes used to maintain our front as a snack foods distributer. My boss likes to joke that we sell crackers during the day and steal chips at night. Never found that funny, to tell the truth.
“You’re back early,” Jole’s voice echoes through the warehouse from the overhead speaker.
“Ran into a problem.”
“Huh,” he says. “Guess that’s why the boss told me ‘full measures.’”
I give the camera in the corner a put-out look. “Seriously?”
“Sorry.”
Grumbling, I prepare to strip. My hair streams down my back, damp with sweat earned during the chase. Pissed at the formality or not, it feels good to peel off my leather jacket, boots and tight, black jumpsuit. I hate the jumpsuit, always feeling like a wannabe ninja wearing the thing. Occupational hazard.
In my tank and boy shorts, I pad barefoot across the concrete floor to a door marked “authorized personnel only,” and pose for the security camera. Hand on my hip, I blow Jole a kiss.
“You know your charms don’t work on me,” he says.
“Yeah, yeah. Next time I’m out, I’ll pick up a boyfriend for you.”
“Really? That would be great. I like broad shoulders and a nice smile.”
“Don’t we all?” I ask. “Now, could you open the damn door?”
The lock clanks open.
I enter a pea-green hallway and stop when the door behind me relocks. My skin crawls with the tingle of a full body scan before a light flashes up ahead. We’re going all out with security tonight. The boss must be feeling extra paranoid. What, does he think I’ve been compromised. Or worse, copied? Who’d they expect? One of Maren’s Bolt girls? Sure, she has an army of artificial humans, but it’s too expensive to copy real people just for the sake of spying on mid-level criminals.
The scan finishes and a green light flashes. “See? Real girl.”
“That’s what the cellular detector says,” Jole answers. “Keep walking.”
I pass through the second door into a clinical white hallway—the clean room—so Jole can scan me for electronic tracking devices. I don’t know why, but the clean room always gives me the shakes. Something about the whiteness of it. White floor, white ceiling, white…
“Lexa? Turpin wants to see you. Now.”
Jole’s voice reverberates off the hard walls and shakes me loose from whatever hold the white hallway has. I’m in trouble; that’s enough to get my attention.
He buzzes me through the last door and the smell of mildewed tile seems like a reward after the night I’ve had. The locker room’s showers keep the air humid; I can almost feel the warm water on my shoulders. But no, a soak will have to wait, because Turpin’s summons has to be answered. Sighing, I pull a pair of jeans and sneakers out of my locker. “Now” doesn’t mean “right this second” when I’m in my underwear, no matter how pissed off the boss is.
The adrenaline has worn off and getting dressed takes a lot of energy. Exhausted, I head for the stairwell with low expectations.
Turpin lives on the third floor of the warehouse, and his digs look less industrial than mine or Jole’s. The boss has carpet, even in the hallway leading to his office, and old-timey wall sconces with yellow light bulbs put off a soft glow. I pause before the heavy steel door, trying to gather my excuses into a bouquet of half-truths before the yelling starts.
“I know you’re out there,” comes Turpin’s muffled shout.
Well, of course he does. Cameras never lie. I push the door open, head downcast, hoping he’ll think I’m being contrite.
“Oh, cut the crap, Lexa,” Turpin says the second I cross the threshold. He sits up straight in his antique leather chair, hands folded on his wooden desk. “You wouldn’t know humble if it tackled your ass.”
Surprised into laughing, I look up. Turpin glares back and asks, “What happened tonight?”
I choke on a laugh. What had happened? “I got in just fine, through the eighth-floor window, like you told me.” Now for the tricky part. “The laser cutter worked perfectly—but don’t tell Jole. His ego doesn’t need stoking. Anyway, I found the safe, decoded the lock, and took the chip. I was on my way out when I ran into a new type of security protocol. I saw this flash of light in the ceiling and was paralyzed for a moment. When I could move again, the alarm went shrieking all to hell.”
Turpin’s face becomes guarded. “I’ve never heard of a security measure that paralyzes someone. Are you sure you didn’t imagine it?”
I glare at him—my imagination isn’t that good. “No. It was like my feet were glued to the floor. I couldn’t move.”
He takes off his glasses. So what if we can cure blindness; Turpin likes anachronistic things more than perfect eyesight, which also explains the wool sport coat and the gray hair even though he’s only forty.
“Maren didn’t have anything like that when I worked at Precipice,” he says. “I need to put out some feelers, see if I can’t figure out what this new safety measure is.”
“Thanks.” If anyone can find the source of the trip light, it’s Turpin. In a previous life, he’d been a security expert. The best thieves are always halfway legitimate, working right under the noses of their marks. “So now what?”
“You lie low for a few days.”
I stare at the ceiling, supplicating to the crown molding for intercession from this vile punishment. “A vacation! Maybe I should screw up more often.”
“This isn’t the time for sarcasm.” Turpin shoves his glasses onto his face. “We’re close to cracking Maren’s defense systems and our clients aren’t known for patience. Your little mistake may have cost us weeks, maybe months. Do you want to explain to our employers why we’re behind schedule?”
Oh, Stars, anything but that. Being in the same room as our clients gives me the creepy-crawlies and their bodyguards always breathe down my neck like they’d enjoy sending me to the afterlife. “No, I wouldn’t.”
“And I trust you wouldn’t like the Quad to catch you, either, right? We stole plans for the K400s. They may be early-gen artificials, and obsolete, but they aren’t going to give us a pass on this. You want to end up in their hands?”
The ice in his tone matches the cold feeling in my stomach. Suddenly the clients don’t seem so frightening. “Certainly not.”
“Then you’re grounded until further notice,” Turpin says. “Jole could use some help cracking the chip—that’ll be your assignment during downtime. Find out what the K400 data can tell us about later models. Until we make the handoff, stay inside.”
Holding in a snort takes effort, but I give him a nice, obedient smile. Turpin knows that working on tech is my least favorite chore. Helping Jole is punishment, pure and simple. The sick thing is, I know I deserve it. I failed.
“Yes, sir.”
I turn slowly and close the door with a quiet snap once I’m in the hall. How did I mess up like this? I pride myself on being the most careful “acquisitions expert” Turpin has ever had. With measured steps, reeking of discipline for Turpin’s cameras, I stroll to the locker room for my shower. Greeted once again by the smell of mildew, I take a seat on the metal bench.
It’s only then that I let go and punch the locker door.

Featured Review
Unstrung is the first in a new YA series from Kendra Highley. Unstrung is a sci-fi, dystopian novel where artificial humans were created to be a new workforce. As the technology increases, these artificial humans or "Bolts" have become more and more human. Lexa, the main character, is on a crusade to free these bolts from their slavery.
I enjoyed this novel. The pacing of this story was great – it really kept the plot moving. I found myself intrigued at the greater story arc about the bolts and this society. With so many dystopian novels these days, I am curious how Highley plans to differentiate Unstrung. I did want a little more character development and backstory, but I hear there is a prequel on the way to address it. Overall, Unstrung is a fun, enjoyable YA novel, and I'm looking forward to more in the series.

About the Author
Kendra C. Highley lives in north Texas with her husband and two children. She also serves as staff to two self-important and high-powered cats. This, according to the cats, is her most important job. She believes chocolate is a basic human right, running a 10k is harder than it sounds, and that everyone should learn to drive a stick-shift. She loves monsters, vacations, baking and listening to bad electronica. If she's not writing, she's reading. If she's not writing or reading, she's likely a little cranky.



Giveaway
Enter the blast-wide giveaway for a chance to win a $25 Amazon gift card.

Links