Title: Thin Love
Author: Eden Butler
Genre: New Adult/Contemporary Romance crossover
Release Date: August 19, 2014
Tour Hosted by: As the Pages Turn
Synopsis
Love isn't supposed to be an addiction. It isn't supposed to leave you bleeding.
Kona pushed, Keira pulled, and in their wake, they left behind destruction.
She sacrificed everything for him.
It wasn't enough.
But the wounds of the past can never be completely forgotten and still the flame remains, slumbers between the pleasure of yesterday and the thought of what might have been.
Now, sixteen years later, Keira returns home to bury the mother who betrayed her, just as Kona tries to hold onto what remains of his NFL career with the New Orleans Steamers. Across the crowded bustle of a busy French Market, their paths collide, conjuring forgotten memories of a consuming touch, skin on skin, and the still smoldering fire that begs to be rekindled.
When Kona realizes the trifecta of betrayal—his, Keira's and those lies told to keep them apart—his life is irrevocably changed and he once again takes Keira down with him into the fire that threatens to ignite them both.
AN EXCERPT:
Somewhere
in their brief discussion, Keira noticed her fingers had moved from his temples
to his thick hair. It happened absently, without her thinking about it, without
his complaints. It took several moments before Keira realized they were staring
at each other. There wasn’t anything significant in that moment, no weighted
energy passing between them. There was only comfort and casualness and the
curious thoughts they kept to themselves.
“Maybe
Arthur’s love was too thick,” Kona said. “Or maybe Guinevere’s was. She was
into them both—Arthur and Lancelot. Maybe she loved them both too much.”
“No, I
don’t believe Guinevere loved either of them. With Arthur, it was power. With
Lancelot it was lust. Both are thin love.”
“And
thin love is bad?”
“That’s
what Sethe tells Paul D, remember?”
Kona
nodded, eyes shifted away from her face as he seemed held up by his own
thoughts. “’Thin love ain’t love at all.’”
“Exactly.”
Kona’s
gaze moved back to Keira, but he didn’t speak. The look he gave her expanded in
the quiet of her room, stirred by his eyes growing darker, by the slow,
constant rake of her fingers through his hair. He lifted his hand, stopping her
fingers and held onto her wrist, eyes unblinking. Then something happened in
that brief pause. The look they shared sharpened and the pull between them
rose.
Kona
sat up, slow, cautious and Keira watched him, watched unable to react, to
respond, until Kona leaned toward her, until she could smell the drugging scent
of his skin and feel the soft outline of his mouth. It was the pause of
everything, a kindling of heat that Keira did not know how to contain—Kona’s
soft lips against hers, his airy breath moving behind the hint of tongue—at
once Keira felt drugged, controlled and manic.
Keira’s
mouth worked against her will, a reaction, a gut feel of movement that she did
not control and Kona seemed to love it, pulled her closer, guided her hands
around his waist, up to that massive chest and Keira did not stop him.
She
loved the sound of his throat vibrating, those low, delicious growls he made
when her tongue touched his, when her mouth moved faster, harder. Before she
realized what was happening, Kona leaned over her, had her caged against the
pillows. Behind her closed eyes, Keira allowed only the sensations of touch and
taste to filter into her mind and she knew, unconsciously, absolutely, that she
wanted Kona Hale. She wanted his hands on her back, lowering; his mouth,
tongue, down her neck nibbling. All that sensation, the fiery spark of their
bodies connecting consumed her, made her feel drunk, wanted, beautiful.
Cherished.
The
sensation was overwhelming, consuming and Keira found she could not breathe,
could not keep hold of her senses—the protective instinct to run from the
sudden terror she felt.
She
scrambled to her feet, stepping several paces away from Kona. “What are you
doing?”
“Keira,
if you don’t know—I mean, I get it, I do. You’re not used to attention, from
guys. I get that.”
That’s what he thinks? That’s
why he wants me?
She saw
the hint of it in his eyes, that hungry scrutiny that told her it was the
challenge to take her that had him wanting a taste of her. She felt like she
had been doused with a bucket of ice water. She understood now. She got Kona’s
interest in her and despite how disgusted it made her feel, Keira laughed.
“You
think I’m a virgin, Kona?” When he only managed to look away from her, jaw
clenching, Keira’s laughter grew, bubbled so that the sound was obnoxious and
loud. “I might get nervous around guys, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been
with anyone. And why are you changing the subject? You kissed me.” Keira chose
to ignore the part where she had responded eagerly to his kiss. With Keira’s
admission and her accusation, the large vein on Kona’s neck that stuck out when
his temper flared was pumping against his dark skin like a drumbeat. “I told
you this wasn’t a date.”
“I know
that.”
“Then
why did you kiss me?”
With
one large hand rubbing the back of his neck, Kona made a strangled sound in the
back of his throat. “Shit, Keira, there was a moment. Don’t pretend like you
didn’t feel it. You did kiss me back.
And don’t act like you didn’t feel it that night you were mugged.” He walked
toward her and Keira found the room had grown smaller, that somehow she’d
forgotten how large Kona was, how much space he took up. “There’s something
going on between us and it’s got nothing to do with Legends or old musicals.”
Kona stood in front of her and Keira wasn’t sure how she’d ended up with her
back against the door and him looming over her, staring down at her like he was
hungry, like he was hungry only for her.
She
felt her pulse skidding against her neck, could feel that warmth that always
radiated from Kona’s huge frame as he leaned toward her, as those enormous hand
lay flat against the door, right next to her cheek.
“I
never said there wasn’t something here.” She pushed back when he moved, eating
up the small space between them. She fought the pull that threaded them
together. It took strength. It took restraint she didn’t know she had, but
Keira pushed against his chest to keep him off of her. “I also never said I was
interested in finding out what that something is.”
“Bullshit.”
Kona’s voice was thick and Keira didn’t like how smug he sounded. That sweet,
contemplative boy from a few minutes ago was gone. Now only the entitled
jackass remained and the attitude quickly reminded Keira why she’d been
hesitant to be alone with him.
“No,
it’s not bullshit.” Keira could feel her anger sharpen like a prick of needles
against her stomach. It wasn’t the first time Kona had irritated her temper;
just being near him seemed to invoke some sort of raw nerve that made her anger
sharp and pulled swiftly to the surface. She hated his smirk and the stupid way
his expression told her he thought she was being ridiculous. Condescending, her mother would call
that look and that niggling voice echoed in her head, laid fuel on the
simmering spark of her temper. “Why do you do that shit?” She pushed against his
chest and he seemed caught, shocked by how high her voice had risen. “You’ve
got this attitude like you know what I’m thinking. Like you think I’m seconds
away from ripping your clothes off.” Keira pushed him again, but Kona didn’t
budge and, to annoy her more, he smiled at her. She still managed to spit out,
“I’m not. Trust me, I am so not.”
“You
know, when you get pissed, you turn into a wildcat.”
“I have
a temper, asshole.” Another push and Kona grabbed her wrist and held her hand
against his chest.
“Why am
I an asshole?”
Keira
jerked back, trying to take a breath so that when she spoke again, her voice
would be calm, even. “I’m not interested in you like that, Kona. The girls
you’re with, I’m nothing like them. I don’t do hookups.”
The
smile left his face and Keira could see his disappointment. She knew this was
him; the casual attitude toward sex, the quick release, the heat, the passion,
that was all he wanted. He wanted to touch, to taste. Kona didn’t want to feel
and for Keira, that was all that mattered.
She had
felt very little for so long. Her father’s death, her mother’s cruelty, it had
left her vacant and open. She wanted that void to be filled, not just tapped
off and quickly emptied again. She wanted the finish line, not the chase.
In that
exasperated sigh and the quick eye roll, Keira knew Kona would never give her
what she needed. “Well what the hell do you do?” Back again was the straight
set of his shoulders, the defensive stance of a boy ready to fight.
“I
don’t do thin love, Kona. I’ve seen what it does. I’ve seen how pathetic it is
my whole life.” Keira caught a quick memory of her mother and stepfather from
three weeks ago, sitting at the dining room table quietly taking their meal.
They never looked at each other and in six years, Keira couldn’t remember them
touching once. She was baring more of herself to Kona now, slipping him secrets
she knew he’d only forget, but she wanted him to understand, to see what she
needed. “I don’t want easy. I want the impossible. I want love so thick, I
drown in it; it’s the only thing worth having and, I’m sorry Kona, you’re a
nice guy when you’re not acting like an entitled jackass, but I really don’t
think you’re capable of being anything more than that.”
Kona’s
reaction was swift; a jerk back from her as though she’d leveled a quick fist
into his stomach and he grabbed the doorknob. Keira saw the tension instantly
return to his face. She guessed the headache had reemerged, that her words had
erased any comfort her fingers had given him. But Kona didn’t complain, didn’t
do more than open the door, funneling his anger away from her as he stared into
the hallway.
“You
don’t know me, Keira, and you don’t have a fucking clue what I’m capable of.”
***
About Eden
Eden Butler is an editor and writer of New Adult Romance and SciFi and Fantasy novels and the nine-times great-granddaughter of an honest-to-God English pirate. This could explain her affinity for rule breaking and rum. Her debut novel, a New Adult, Contemporary (no cliffie) Romance, “Chasing Serenity” launched in October 2013 and quickly became an Amazon bestseller.
When she’s not writing or wondering about her possibly Jack Sparrowesque ancestor, Eden edits, reads and spends way too much time watching rugby, Doctor Who and New Orleans Saints football.
She is currently imprisoned under teenage rule alongside her husband in southeast Louisiana.
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