Book Details:
Title: Becoming His
Author: Mariah Dietz
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release
Day: December 1, 2014
Synopsis:
Sometimes life’s unforeseen paths lead us to
discovering sides of ourselves we never knew existed.
Ace Bosse has always found solace at home, but when
she returns for the summer from college she builds an unexpected relationship
with the reckless Max Miller.
Three years ago, Max left for Alaska to find what
he thought he’d lost, but now he realizes just how much he left behind.
Max teaches Ace that sometimes a little crazy is
exactly what life needs while learning that some chances are worth taking,
regardless of the risks.
But how do you know when you’ve met the right
person? And will they be prepared to experience one of life’s biggest
obstacles?
Amazon:
Excerpt
Mindi, Savannah, and Jenny left Kendall and me to
the lounge chairs in the backyard after ensuring we weren’t too drunk to pass
out and drown, but apparently not to question that we’d be just drunk enough to
do something stupid.
“Go where?” I ask.
“TP Marshall's!”
I instantly laugh at the thought as I shake my
head.
“Come on!” She wraps her fingers around mine and
tugs once again, and I willingly follow her through the house. I’ve definitely
drank too much, because I can hear a teeny tiny voice in the back of my head
telling me that this is a bad idea, but a much louder voice in the forefront of
my mind giggles and discusses strategy. That louder voice
is my voice, as I help load Kendall’s arms.
“You look ridiculous.” I laugh at the sight of my
sister in her neon green bikini bottom with toilet paper rolls bulging from her
arms.
“We have to stay down so no one can see us,”
Kendall whispers conspiratorially. I try to keep a straight face, but all I
want to do right now is laugh. Everything seems funny, from the fact that we’re
about to TP a house to Kendall wearing my bikini top because she thought it would
make her boobs look bigger—it doesn’t, but by the time we finished swapping
tops she was ready to go.
“You dropped one!” I stop in front of the fallen
roll.
“Leave it!”
“I can’t. We need all of them!” I slowly
bend to retrieve it and drop three more in the process.
Kendall's giggles fill the air. “Stop, stop,”
I laugh as I work to pick up the four rolls of
toilet paper. As I get the last one in my arms, it squeezes too tightly against
one another and two more fall out of my arms. My laugh follows them rolling
down the street.
“Oh my god, I think I just peed!” Kendall cries
between squeals of laughter as she presses her forehead to my shoulder.
We decide to abandon the two rolls, and Kendall
starts humming the Batman theme as she straightens and bolts down the
middle of the road, surprisingly fast for how drunk she is and being in a pair
of flip flops I know from experience are stiff and uncomfortable to walk, much
less run in.
I chase after her feeling but not really caring
about the sharpness of the road against my bare, pool-pruned feet.
We duck behind a large azalea bush that lines Mr.
Tucker’s walkway, which is only three houses down from Marshall’s, as a pair of
headlights turn toward us.
“Shhh!” I whisper as Kendall leans heavily against
me, still giggling. The small voice in the back of my head instructs me to look
back and ensure it isn’t our parents. They’re supposed to be gone overnight,
but catching us would definitely invoke a "Harper Jo."
I stand to watch where the vehicle’s going, and
Kendall levels me as she attempts to run forward. The rolls of toilet paper
fall from our grasps as our arms fly out to catch ourselves. We lie on the cool
grass, bursting into shrieks of laughter.
After a few minutes we slowly stand up. A stitch
burns in my side from giggling as I dust dried grass off my exposed
skin and begin picking up the fallen rolls.
When we get to Marshall’s we dump our collection
under the large weeping willow that sits on the corner of his property and each
grab a roll. We race around, throwing them to drape trails of toilet paper as
quickly as possible.
“What are you doing?” The words are hissed from
behind us making me jump and Kendall scream.
My head whips around, terrified that we haven’t
been paying enough attention to the house and that Marshall’s caught us, or
worse—our dad.
“You scared the shit out of me!” Kendall screeches,
reaching out to slap Jameson’s chest as I take a deep breath of relief.
“What are you guys doing?” he repeats.
“He was being a creeper!” Kendall wails.
“Shhh!” Jameson and I both hiss.
“What was he doing?” This time I’m the one that
squeals as I hurl my roll behind me toward the voice I recognize as soon as the
toilet paper hits his chest.
Max stands behind me, looking satisfied at my
reaction. I glare at him, feeling my heart thrumming in my neck and my hands
shaking from nerves.
“Where are your clothes?” Jameson asks, ignoring my
reaction and Max’s question.
I look down at my pink bikini bottoms and neon
green top that belongs with Kendall’s bottoms and over to Kendall. She’s
looking down at her own bathing suit.
“We’re wearing clothes.” One hand goes
to her hip in defiance.
“According to a nudist colony maybe,” Jameson
retorts.
Kendall ignores him and picks up the roll she’d
dropped and tosses it toward the front flower bed, leaving a trail of white. A
new eruption of giggles pierces the air as she trips, her hands finding my arm
for support.
There’s something about Kendall’s giggle that has
always been infectious to me, even when I don’t know what’s funny. When we were
little and dangerously close to being in trouble, the sound of her giggling
always had me laughing almost instantly, and it’s having the same effect now.
“Oh my god, you guys are hammered!” Jameson cries,
and his genuine shock makes me laugh even harder. He shoots a death glare at
me, but unfortunately it just makes me laugh harder and soon I’m doubled over
with laughter, not able to breathe.
As our laughter subsides I notice that Max is
holding two rolls of toilet paper in his hands. He tosses one to Jameson who
catches it and drops his shoulders as his eyebrows rise. We all watch as Max
drops the first couple of squares that inevitably always seem to tear at the
beginning of each roll and chucks it high into the weeping willow, much higher than
Kendall or I could have hoped to have achieved. Jameson quietly mutters
something under his breath and shakes his head before his shoulders roll and he
follows suit.
When the yard is sufficiently covered in white and
our arsenal of toilet paper has expired we stand admiring our handiwork for a
moment. It’s the first time that I’ve ever TP’d someone’s house, and although I
feel a slight spasm of guilt, I’m quite liberated with this small act of
rebellion.
“Shit!” I hear Jameson cry, and before I can turn to
see what has him panicking, I’m mid air.
In one fell swoop Max has me over his shoulder and
he’s running as though I'm nothing more than a beach towel.
I should be angry and demand to be put down,
especially since I’m only wearing my bikini and his hands are clasped around my
bare hips, but then I hear yelling and recognize Marshall’s voice ordering to
know what’s going on, followed by empty threats, and decide to remain quiet
because Max is fast, really fast. My observation is likely skewed a bit, being
that I’m upside down, backwards, and have had too much to drink; all the same,
he seems crazy fast.
“Did he see us?” Kendall asks as Max stops and
slides me back to my feet. I look around the unfamiliar yard and realize when I
see the cement birdbath that we’re standing in Max’s backyard.
“I don’t think so,” Jameson says, taking a deep
breath as his chest heaves. “That was close! Why in the hell did we just help
TP that house?”
“That’s Marshall.” Kendall’s voice is a statement,
like this explains everything..
“Who’s Marshall?”
“A dirty creeper. He asked Ace to model for him and
then handed her the Victoria’s Secret catalog and told her she could pick.”
Jameson raises his eyebrows, and Kendall nods
knowingly. “Told you. Creeper.”
“I was a little worried you girls were just bored
and picked a house at random.”
“I’m sure he was joking. He’s socially awkward and
kind of strange, but Jose and Kendall made it sound like it was a good idea,” I
admit.
“Jose?” Max asks.
I turn to look at him from where he’s standing behind
me and notice he looks more annoyed than usual.
“Cuervo!” Kendall throws an arm into the air with a
whoop, making me laugh again.
I turn my attention to Max and Jameson and see them
shaking their heads. “How’d you guys find us?”
“We drove by and saw you two run into the bushes
and then watched you guys sprawl out on the grass with a gazillion rolls of
toilet paper, so we parked and followed the noise.” Max shrugs. “Late night
TP’ing in bikinis, only the two of you would do that.” He looks at me and his
eyes fall to my feet. “And barefoot. What if he’d caught you?”
“Technically, he did catch us.”
Max rolls his eyes at my response, and I can’t help
but roll mine in return.
Author Interview:
Describe Ace in one
sentence. A girl with self-doubt and beauty that we can all relate to.
Describe Max in one
sentence. Misunderstood and cautious about others.
Favorite and least
favorite scene to write in Becoming His?
My favorite scene was the first chapter and the Janes’ house and meeting the
family. I know that to some, this is a little overwhelming because I’ve thrown
readers into a really large family. As crazy as this sounds, I did it
intentionally. I want readers to really experience what it’s like to initially
meet a large family. The Bosses are a large group. My least favorite scene to
write was also another one of my favorites, it’s the scene with Ace and Max
going to see Pretty in Pink. It was
difficult to build the right level of angst I wanted to translate with so
little touching, and no sexual references.
What’s your guilty
pleasure? Pregnant in Heels and Starbucks.
If you weren’t an
author what would you be doing right now? Working toward opening a bakery. I
really love to bake.
What do you consider
your greatest achievement? My Littles. They are without a doubt my greatest
achievement, and always will be.
If you could meet
anyone, dead or alive, who would it be and why? Susan B. Anthony. Her
strength and knowledge is so admirable and the advances she made for women is
amazing. I think it would be really inspiring to talk to her about all of the
things she was obviously so passionate about.
What is your go to
snack food when writing? Dark chocolate and sunflower seeds.
If you could sit down
face to face with any of your characters, who would you choose and why?
David Bosse
What are the top 3
things on your bucket list? 1- Live in France for a year. 2- Travel to
Spain. 3- Go to every Disney Resort.
If you could live
anywhere in the world, where would it be and why? I would like to
experience living in several states in the US, as well as multiple countries. I
am a firm believer that you learn a lot about the world, as well as yourself
when you experience different cultures. I find travelling to be hugely
rewarding.
Favorite Word and
Least Favorite Word? I feel like I ought to have a favorite word since I
spend so much time reading and writing, but I really don’t. Though, I do find
the words vindictive and synonym to be fun to say! My least favorite word is
butt because it’s the hardest word to say in an eloquent manner.
Biggest fear?
I’ve always been a worrier. It’s something I struggle to not do because I find it pointless to worry when there’s nothing
you can do but waste time and energy with it. However, I really don’t like
heights.
Deepest regret?
This feeds into my belief of fears. There’s no point in regretting things. I
try to work on focusing on improving myself and letting the past go.
Favorite memory?
I grew up in a really tiny town in Oregon, at the base of Mt. Hood. Each winter,
our power used to go out, sometimes for a week or more at a time. We used to
spend the days sledding down a big mining hill, and then go inside to warm up
by the wood fire that we used as a cook stove. Then we’d play games with
kerosene lamps. It was all very Little
House on the Prairie meets Grizzly
Adams.
Worst flaw? I am
a perfectionist.
Most annoying pet
peeve? Fakeness.
If you could change
one thing about yourself…what would it be? My hair. I have this crazy hair
that would be great if it was still 1980.
Either/Or Questions:
Chocolate or Vanilla? Chocolate
Ace or Max? … Ace
Warm or Cold? Warm
Early Bird or Night Owl? Early Bird
Pain or Pleasure? Pleasure
Outdoor or Indoor? Outdoor
Blondes or Brunettes? Brunette
Ketchup or Mustard? Ketchup
Coffee or Cocktail? Coffee
Texting or Calling? Texting
About the author:
Mariah Dietz lives in Eastern Washington with her
husband and two sons that are the axis of her crazy and wonderful world.
Mariah grew up in a tiny town outside of Portland,
Oregon where she spent the majority of her time immersed in the pages of books
that she both read and created.
She has a love for all things that include her
sons, good coffee, books, travel, and dark chocolate. She also has a deep
passion for the stories she writes, and hopes readers enjoy the journeys she
takes them on, as much as she loves creating them.
Author Links:
Giveaway:
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