Saturday, May 31, 2014

Excerpt Event (Author Morgan Parker)

Today we have an Excerpt from Sick Day by Morgan Parker
Hope and Cameron made a five-year promise before college. Years pass and they never see each other again. But then one month before his planned wedding to Riley, Cameron looks outside and sees Hope in the pouring rain, watching him. Now, three years later, Cam has one day – a sick day on this last Friday of summer – to convince the one woman whose very existence breaths life into his lungs, that sometimes love like theirs actually does exist, and it’s that kind of love that lives forever, no matter how hard you fight to forget about it and move on. From the author of non friction and Hope, Sick Day follows one man’s day-long attempt to persuade the love of his life that sometimes it’s okay to break promises if it means keeping the ones that count.


Excerpt:
With just an inch or less to go for those doors to shut, there was another ding and the doors re-opened. I hadn’t pressed the button—wasn’t close enough to—but saw that Hope had pressed the Open button at the last possible instant. “Heading down, sir?” she asked with the polite tone of a complete stranger. “Thank you,” I said, blinking hard as my heart pounded under my chest. She held the door as I boarded, not acknowledging me. Even though there was nobody else on the elevator, I did the same and when I regained my bearings I noticed some sort of recognition on the receptionist’s face. Did she see the history between Hope and me? Could she sense the tension, the love, whatever the fuck this really was? Once the doors eased shut, Hope punched me in the arm. Hard. “What are you doing here?” she hissed, stepping closer to me, then shoving me backward against the elevator wall. It wasn’t an affectionate shove either. I fumbled for the right words. “I…I saw you…” She shoved me again, her lips tight and one mistake away from an outright, teeth-baring sneer. “He saw you! He fucking saw you!” “Hope,” I begged as she shoved me again. This time, I seized her wrists. She normally hated that, but this time, I pulled her hands down to her side, forcing her to step closer to me. Our bodies were so close, I swore I could feel her body heat radiating through mine. The wrist-restraining also calmed her down. I edged closer to her, our faces inches apart so that when I breathed, her hair danced gently around her jaw. “I see you,” I said. “I see you everywhere. I can’t stop seeing you.” I shook my head, averting my eyes for less than a second. When I found her again, her hands moved to my face. She was forceful—not quite hungry or desperate, but forceful—as she seized my face and pressed her lips against mine. My mouth opened for her tongue, and I tasted her. Whatever hunger was missing earlier suddenly surged through my body. It was the same awakening as when we kissed on the grass, arousing the realization that I had missed her without ever admitting to it.

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