Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Becki Mowry’s journalism expertise keeps her busy as she spends her waking hours filling a calendar with gigs and public appearances for her boyfriend’s up and coming band, Alternate Tragedy. Radio interviews and TV spots result in sold out concerts and rowdy groupies hot for her guy; lead singer, Calon Ridge. But, as fame would have it, their time in the limelight also brings sabotage, rumors and false accusations. Becki and Calon try to stay steadfast on a personal journey that takes them to the depths of fear and uncertainty. And finally, the rug is pulled out from under the band when they must make a transition they never dreamed they’d be faced with.

In this third book of the In Too Deep series, Becki and Calon struggle to find balance as they navigate their new relationship while living amid the rock world’s nocturnal chaos. But when life’s unexpected obstacles come out of nowhere, they focus on finding their own private solace Above the Noise.

Her hands were on my waist and clutching the untucked flannel she’d told me was a hot wardrobe choice earlier that evening. I dropped one hand to the small of her back and pressed her against where I ached for her the most. Both our chests heaved, and we gasped for air, though neither of us moved any closer.

Becki slid her hands under the t-shirt I had on under my flannel. Her soft, warm hands swept across my sides and up my back until she was holding onto my shoulders from behind. Her nails dug in; not enough to break the skin but just enough to buckle my knees slightly. There was a fire ignited in both of us during those few moments, one that would be nearly impossible to squelch.

“Calon?” She spoke between a couple deep breaths.


“I want to kiss you so badly.” She pulled back a little and looked up at me.

“Yeah.” I was speechless at how far she’d climbed into my soul without even kissing me. “I’d like that an awful lot, but I want you to let me know when you’re ready.”

“I’ve never been too picky about the guys I make out with.” She rolled her eyes and turned away from me a little as if she was embarrassed.

“Okayyy.” I drew out the word and chuckled completely out of discomfort. I had no idea where she was going with that comment.

“No, listen a minute. That gets old. It makes kissing as easy as—as dancing with someone. And, I read somewhere that kissing can actually be more intimate than sex. I think that’s what I want. I don’t want it to come too soon. I want to ache for it.” She blinked away the apprehension I sensed in her voice then smiled my favorite shy smile.

“Do you ache for me, Becki?” Yeah, I did that on purpose; pulled the sexy romance novel line right out of my head. She dropped her head back and groaned. We both burst out laughing, and I continued walking her to the door to the building.

“I mean it, Calon. You only had to turn me down a couple of times to make me reconsider giving away something so intimate, so quickly.” She looked away again and shivered a little in the cool night air. I’d never seen her so unsure of herself. She was letting down her walls.

I took off my flannel and draped it over her shoulders then ducked down to catch her offset gaze. “Becki, I want you to know I haven’t kissed anyone since Gracie.”

“Okay…one, mentioning making out with my best friend just moments after we almost kiss for the first time just docked you a couple points.” She poked me in the chest. “Second, dude, that was like two years ago. You can’t be serious.” She shook her head in disbelief then let it fall against my chest.

“Okay. One, I’m sorry for mentioning it. Second, yes, I’m serious.” I needed to touch her again, so I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into me, making it look like it was partially to keep her warm when really it was a sure way to feel her against my body again. “I have no doubt a kiss between you and me, whenever it happens, will be worth the wait. You’re worth the wait.”

I felt her sigh, and she shook her head against my chest, then pushed herself away from me slowly. “Look, smooth talkin’ rock star, I’ve got a huge exam tomorrow, so you need to go home. Now. I won’t be able to sleep if you stay here getting all deep and shit.”

“Oh, sorry for getting all deep and shit.”

“I like your deep shit. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t ask you to take me to dinner tomorrow night.”

“Right.” I chuckled at how weird she could be. “Okay, then go! Go study. I’ll see you tomorrow. For dinner.”

We shared one last way-too-sensual hug, then she bounced through the door and she was gone. I floated home, just me and all my deep shit.

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About the Author:

Michelle Kemper Brownlow has been a storyteller her entire life. 

Her debut was on the high school cheerleading bus granting requests to re-tell her most embarrassing moments for a gaggle of hysterical squadmates. 

Earning her Bachelor’s degree from Penn State University in Art Education and then marrying her very own “Jake,” she moved to Binghamton, NY where she taught high school. 

After having two children she quit work and finished her Master’s degree in Elementary Education at Binghamton University. 

The Brownlow family of four moved to Michelle’s hometown of Morgantown, PA while the children were still quite young. A few years after moving, her family grew by one when they welcomed a baby into their home through the gift of adoption. The family still resides in PA, just miles from where that high school cheer bus was parked.

Michelle has been an artist for as long as she can remember, always choosing pencils and crayons over toys and puzzles. As a freelance illustrator, her simple characters play the starring roles in numerous emergent reader books published by Reading Reading Books.

Follow me on Twitter: @MK_Brownlow
"Like" me on facebook: Michelle Kemper Brownlow/ Author


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