Tuesday, October 7, 2014

BURYING WATER Release Day Launch

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We are so excited to be a part of the Release Day Launch for K.A. Tucker's BURYING WATER! 
BURYING WATER is a New Adult Romantic Suspense novel, published by Simon & Schuster and it will Blow. You. Away! Check out the excerpt, teasers, and giveaway then run--don't walk--to your nearest retailer!

Burying Water

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The top-selling, beloved indie author of Ten Tiny Breaths returns with a new romance about a young woman who loses her memory—and the man who knows that the only way to protect her is to stay away.

Left for dead in the fields of rural Oregon, a young woman defies all odds and survives—but she awakens with no idea who she is, or what happened to her. Refusing to answer to “Jane Doe” for another day, the woman renames herself “Water” for the tiny, hidden marking on her body—the only clue to her past. Taken in by old Ginny Fitzgerald, a crotchety but kind lady living on a nearby horse farm, Water slowly begins building a new life. But as she attempts to piece together the fleeting slivers of her memory, more questions emerge: Who is the next-door neighbor, quietly toiling under the hood of his Barracuda? Why won’t Ginny let him step foot on her property? And why does Water feel she recognizes him?

Twenty-four-year-old Jesse Welles doesn’t know how long it will be before Water gets her memory back. For her sake, Jesse hopes the answer is never. He knows that she’ll stay so much safer—and happier—that way. And that’s why, as hard as it is, he needs to keep his distance. Because getting too close could flood her with realities better left buried.

The trouble is, water always seems to find its way to the surface.
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Globug's Review

So I had heard rumor that Burying Water was going to be quite different from what I'm use to reading from Tucker. Of course that made me even more excited to read it. 

The first thing I noticed was that the story line was darker than what I was expecting. In the prologue which you can read below, Jesse Welles is desperate to find Alex but at the same time he would rather not find her out in the middle of no where. His worst nightmare comes true when he finds Alex beaten and left for dead and he knows who did it and why. At least he knows part of the reason. 

The second thing that made this story so different is how Tucker tells the story from alternating perspectives. But even more than that, Jesse's POV is told from the past and Jane Doe/ Water's POV is told from the present. The story progresses to the point where past and present collide. I actually enjoyed the back and forth between Then and Now. I think it could've been confusing if the author hadn't done it so well and it was different from the books I've read where parts are written as memories or flashbacks. 

Jane Doe wakes in the hospital with no memory of who she is or how she sustained her injuries. There's also the risk that who ever tried to kill her may come after her if it's discovered that she didn't die. During her recovery Jane Doe bonds with her doctor and her family. Then a true kinship is formed with a grumpy old lady that ends up in the hospital bed next to Jane. I loved the relationship that grows between Jane and old lady Ginny. They have history in common but Ginny rarely tells anyone the story of her past. She happens to be the good doctor's neighbor though which makes it a perfect arrangement for Jane to live with Ginny while trying to start a new life until she can remember her old one. Dr. Alwood and her family become an essential part of Jane's life. It was so special to watch Jane help Ginny overcome her past and start enjoying life again as well.

The one link Jane has to her old life is a small tattoo symbol for water. She takes on the name Water and gets a job. When the Dr's son Jesse starts visiting she's drawn to him like she's met him before. She has no idea what secrets Jesse and his family are keeping. The suspense builds until a fateful day takes Water to the same tattoo parlor where she got the water symbol. She gets her true identity but not her memories, a blessing and a curse. 

I thought the story was going to be about burying the girl Water after she gets her memory back and in a way I guess it is. But there's so much more that you get from this story about love and survival that makes the title cool as heck and adds to the impact of the story. I was really happy with the happy ending.

 Enjoy reading the prologue of Burying Water and then enter the GIVEAWAY that follows it.

This can’t be real . . . This can’t be real . . . This can’t be real . . .
The words cycle round and round in my mind like the wheels on my speeding ’Cuda as its ass-end slips and slides over the gravel and ice. This car is hard to handle on the best of days, built front-heavy and overloaded with horsepower. I’m going to put myself into one of these damn trees if I don’t slow down.
I jam my foot against the gas pedal.
I can’t slow down now.
Not until I know that Boone was wrong about what he claims to have overheard. His Russian is mediocre at best. I’ll give anything for him to be wrong about this.
My gut clenches as my car skids around another turn,the cone shape of Black Butte looming like a monstrous shadow ahead of me in the pre-dawn light. The snowy tire tracks framed by my headlights might not even be the right ones, but they’re wide like Viktor’s Hummer and they’re sure as hell the only ones down this old, deserted logging road. No one comes out here in January.
The line of trees marking the dead end comes up on me before I expect it. I slam on my brakes, sending my car sliding sideways toward the old totem pole. It’s still sliding when I cut the rumbling engine, throw open the door, and jump out, fumbling with my flashlight. It takes three hard presses with my shaking hands to get the light to hold.
I begin searching the ground. The mess of tread marks tells me that someone pulled a U-turn. The footprints tell me that more than one person got out. And when I see the half-finished cigarette butt with that weird alphabet on the filter, I know Boone wasn’t wrong.
“Alex!” My echo answers once . . . twice . . . before the vast wilderness swallows up my desperate cry. With frantic passes of my flashlight, my knuckles white against its body, I search the area until I spot the sets of footprints that lead off the old, narrow road and into the trees.
Frigid fingers curl around my heart.
Darting back to my car, I snatch the old red-and-blue plaid wool blanket that she loves so much from the backseat. Ice-cold snow packs into the sides of my sneakers as I chase the trail past the line of trees and into the barren field ahead, my blood rushing through my ears the only sound I process.
The only sign of life.
Raw fear numbs my senses, the Pacific Northwest winter numbs my body, but I push forward because if . . .
The beam of light passes over a still form lying facedown in the snow. I’d recognize that pink coat and platinum-blond hair of hers anywhere; the sparkly blue dress that she hates so much looks like a heap of sapphires against a white canvas.
My heart freezes.
“Alex.” It’s barely a whisper. I’m unable to produce more, my lungs giving up on me. I run, stumbling through the foot of snow until I’m on my knees and crawling forward to close the distance. A distance of no more than ten feet and yet one that seems like miles.
There’s no mistaking the spray of crimson freckling the snow around her head. Or that most of her long hair is now dark and matted. Or that her silver stockings are torn and stained red, and a pool of blood has formed where her dress barely covers her thighs. Plenty of footprints mark the ground around her. He must have been here for a while.
I know that there are rules to follow, steps to make sure that I don’t cause her further harm. But I ignore them because the sinking feeling in my stomach tells me I can’t possibly hurt her more than he already has. I nestle her head with one hand while I slide the other under her shoulder. I roll her over.
Cold shock knocks the wind out of me.
I’ve never seen anybody look like this.
I scoop her limp body into my arms, cradling the once beautiful face that I’ve seen in every light—rage to ecstasy and the full gamut in between—yet is now unrecognizable. Placing two blood-coated fingers over her throat, I wait. Nothing.
A light pinch against her lifeless wrist.Nothing.
Maybe a pulse does exist but it’s hidden, masked by my own racing one.
Then again, by the look of her, likely not.
One . . . two . . . three . . . plump, serene snowflakes begin floating down from the unseen sky above. Soon, they will converge and cover the tracks, the blood. The evidence.Mother Nature’s own blanket to hide the unsightly blemish in her yard.
“I’m so sorry.” I don’t try to restrain the hot tears as they roll down my cheeks to land on her mangled lips—lips I had stolen plenty of kisses from, back when I was too stupid to realize how dangerous that really was. This is my fault. She had warned me. If I had just listened, had stayed away from her, had not told her how I felt . . .
 . . . had not fallen wildly in love with her.
I lean down to steal a kiss even now, the coppery taste of her blood mixing with my salty tears. “I’m so damn sorry. I should never have even looked your way,” I manage to get out around my sobs, tucking the blanket she loved to curl up in over her.
An almost inaudible gasp slips out. A slight breeze against my mouth more than anything else.
My lungs freeze, my eyes glued to her, afraid to hope. “Alex?” Is it possible?
A moment later, a second gasp—a wet, rattling sound—escapes.
She’s not dead.
Not yet, anyway.

About the Author:

Author Photo Born in small-town Ontario, K.A. Tucker published her first book at the age of six with the help of her elementary school librarian and a box of crayons. She is a voracious reader, and currently resides in a quaint town outside of Toronto with her husband, two beautiful girls, and an exhausting brood of four-legged creatures.        

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