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Thursday, March 16, 2017

#GiveAway - Who We Were By Lindsay Detwiler

 Who We Were
By Lindsay Detwiler

About the Book: 


“I guess that’s the thing about high school reunions, though. They make you snap a little.”

In the ten years since high school graduation, Maylee’s career, living arrangements, family, and especially her love life are at a standstill. When her twin brother, Mitch, falls for her high school enemy at their ten-year reunion, Maylee’s life is catapulted into chaos.

Maylee’s hatred for the blonde-haired Josephine isn’t the only thing she discovers at her reunion. Benson Drake, the introvert from high school, has matured into a sexy intellect. Now a writer and bartender, Benson’s grown into a man with a perfect balance of quirky wit and sex appeal. After a wardrobe malfunction, a spy mission gone wrong, and a dangerous cup of coffee, Maylee and Benson explore something they never even thought about during senior year. Along the way, they find out that reconnecting with the past can change you… or maybe just help you find your true self.

Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: February 25, 2017
Publisher: Hot Tree Publishing
Cover Designer: Claire Smith
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Excerpt: 
I guess that’s the thing about high school reunions, though. They make you snap a little. At least I can admit to it. This has to be the first step to admitting psychosis, right?

Mitch thinks I’ve taken it too far. Shauni, of course, thinks I’m doing the right thing.

“Show those snotty jerks just what you’ve become,” she told me yesterday. “Especially the blonde. Show her you’ve won.”

I’d smiled, munching on my lunch of celery and carrot sticks in my attempt to shed a few more ounces of water weight. Nevertheless, the whole time I was asking myself a very hard question: Have I really won? If I’m going to so much trouble to fool my classmates into thinking I’ve done so well for myself, aren’t there deeper problems than booblessness and a flabby waistline?

Maybe the problem isn’t my body type, my hair, or any of it. Maybe it’s because at twenty-eight, I thought life would be a little different, a little bit more… grown-up.

Looking in the mirror, however, I know I can’t pretend to be all introspective and mature about it. Even though I know it’s ridiculous, there’s a part of me deep down that does want to show her I’ve done okay for myself, no matter what. I want the girl who tortured me in high school, who convinced me I was a mousey nerd, to realize I blossomed.

Even if it is a bit of a lie. Or a lot of a lie.

“Let’s go,” Mitch yells from the living room. I sigh.

No more introspection. It’s go time.

It’s time to face my past.


About the Author: 


A high school English teacher, an author, and a fan of anything pink and/or glittery, Lindsay's the English teacher cliché; she love cats, reading, Shakespeare, and Poe.

She currently lives in her hometown with her husband, Chad (her junior high sweetheart); their cats, Arya, Amelia, Alice, and Bob; and their Mastiff, Henry.

Lindsay's goal with her writing is to show the power of love and the beauty of life while also instilling a true sense of realism in her work. Some reviewers have noted that her books are not the “typical romance.” With her novels coming from a place of honesty, Lindsay examines the difficult questions, looks at the tough emotions, and paints the pictures that are sometimes difficult to look at. She wants her fiction to resonate with readers as realistic, poetic, and powerful. Lindsay wants women readers to be able to say, “I see myself in that novel.” She wants to speak to the modern woman’s experience while also bringing a twist of something new and exciting. Her aim is for readers to say, “That could happen,” or “I feel like the characters are real.” That’s how she knows she's done her job.

Lindsay's hope is that by becoming a published author, she can inspire some of her students and other aspiring writers to pursue their own passions. She wants them to see that any dream can be attained and publishing a novel isn’t out of the realm of possibility.





 Hot Tree Publishing

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