04 October 2014

Blog Tour & Giveaway: Bone Deep by Brooklyn Skye

Bone Deep
by Brooklyn Skye.
Audience/Genre: New Adult, Contemporary Romance.
Publication: September 29th 2014.
The boy who wants forgiveness…

Haunted by the train accident his father instigated, college freshman Krister Ledoux is obsessed with finding the person sending him cryptic hate mail. He knows it’s one of them—a family member of one of the accident victims, and he’s willing to go to hell and back to find out which one.

The girl he can’t forget…

She was a stranger who kissed him in the middle of the train station, and now she’s the girl who pleads with her eyes for Krister to be the distraction she’s so desperate for. Krister doesn’t know what it is about her, why he’s sucked into playing Cambria’s game… All he knows is that when he’s with her, he isn’t consumed with thoughts of the crash.

The collision that can’t be avoided…

Cambria doesn’t know who Krister is—that he’s the son of the town’s most infamous killer, and he knows if his true identity surfaces he’ll lose her forever. However secrets can’t stay buried forever, and now Krister must fight to prove that their bone-deep connection is far more powerful than the hatred she now has toward him.


It isn’t ironic that instead of Jess feeling me up tonight it’s a cop.
Ironic would be if this officer was the same who searched Dad for syringes or tubes or those stupid, bent tweezers before transporting him to a room secured with bars.
Ironic would be if these were the same handcuffs that touched Dad’s wrists, which means I’m touching him for the first time in a year. Or more, considering Dad’s never been the pat-on-the-back sort of parent.
Ironic would be if one of these drunk idiots sitting cross-legged in a line on the dirt recorded Officer Wells’s interrogation and sent it to Dad with a message that read: Way to be a role model, Pops! But none of my friends would risk the chance to move because all of them have everything to lose. Wells holds out his gigantic hand.
Now this is amusing. Because let’s say I did have my wallet with me, it’d be located in my back left pocket. But because Officer Shirt Too Small was suffering from short-man syndrome standing a foot below me, my ridiculously tight cuffs make it impossible to reach into my pocket. So say my wallet was in my pocket, what would be proper protocol?
Let him reach in and grab it?
Stick my cheek out to give him easy access?
I train my eyes on his forehead. “You already patted me down. Don’t you think you would’ve felt it?” Beside us, the fire swells; blots of orange and yellow crawl across his acne-pitted face. His small eyes shift to the half-empty beer on the boulder beside me. It’s not mine. I don’t care if he thinks it is.
“Eighteen.” I stare over the line of heads, some bowed in fear of being caught drinking under age, others tipped back for a better view of our sad, gray-starred sky. Just past them, the edge of the cliff and a fifty-foot drop spilling into a deep ravine. I’m only twenty feet from it. Short Stuff is busy writing something down on a clipboard; I could make a break for it—
“Anyone you can call?”
“Call? Yeah, of course.” Flames lick my leg. I force a grin. “Do you, by any chance, know the number to Riverside County Jail?”
The pen stops. He looks up. “You being smart with me?” I open my mouth for my best No, sir, I most certainly am not, but his hand latches onto my arm and drags me to his unit all the while muttering something about not having time for show-offs like me. Behind me, whispering voices mingle with the cool, night air. I can’t decipher their words; so I pretend I can.
Poor Ledoux.
Like father, like son.
And Jess: Just be quiet, and do what they say.
I grit my teeth against the ugly feeling scraping its way up my throat, close my eyes, and breathe through my nose.
“Have a seat,” the officer orders as he yanks open the door. A cloud of musty air escapes from the backseat of the car. I want to ask him if it’s been wiped down with antiseptic recently because all I can imagine is spit and sweat and piss scuttling the pleather seats, but he continues with: “What’s your name, son?”
I cringe. “Krister Ledoux.” My dull fingertips press into my palms as I wait for it—the name to register. It usually doesn’t take long. Seconds pass then, casually, he drapes his arm over the top of the door.
“Son of Stephen Ledoux?”
Quietly, he absorbs this. Perhaps deciding if it’d be unprofessional to tell me what he really thinks of my dad and, consequently, me. After a moment, he settles on mumbling under his breath something about “a waste of space,” and I have no idea if he’s referring to me or my father. Another cop behind him summons Ditty off the ground. Ditty’s shitting his pants, and if my name wasn’t simmering in my chest—hot and acidic—inside I’d laugh at the way my friend nods feverishly with each question. His answers are short and skirted with yes, sirs and no, sirs.
Like I said: Everything to lose.

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Brooklyn Skye grew up in a small town where she quickly realized writing was an escape from small town life. Really, she’s just your average awkward girl who’s obsessed with words. She writes young adult and new adult fiction. You can follow her on Twitter as @brooklyn__skye or visit her web site for updates, teasers, giveaways, and more. www.brooklyn-skye.com She is the author of FRAGILE LINE, STRIPPED, Without You, and STRIPPED Without You

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  1. Wow the son of the town infamous killer, how can you not read a story like that, awesome! Thanks for the giveaway.

  2. This really looks like a very good read, I will put it on my TBR list. Thanks for the excerpt!!! I even find the cover interesting!!

    1. The cover is one of the first things I notice and it can make or break it for me to read!

  3. Wow! Sounds like it's going to be a doozy of a read. Looking forward to it!