Random Acts of Crazy by Julia KentDate Released: May 21st 2013
Publisher: Createspace
Format: Kindle Book
Date Read: July 7, 2013.
Source: Itching for Books Tours
Summary:
I never intended to pick up a naked hitchhiker wearing nothing but a guitar. A guitar. Really. I don't collect guys like that (don't ask what kind of guys I do collect), but when you spot a blonde, tanned, sculpted man with a gorgeous smile and his thumb poking up and practically begging you to stop - you stop. And I definitely never thought I'd be staring into the bright blue eyes of Trevor Connor, the lead singer for Random Acts of Crazy, an indie rock star I followed like the slobbering fileshare fangirl I am. How he came to be nude and lost six hundred miles from home is quite the tale, but how we fell in love is even more unreal. Because someone like Trevor Connor, headed to Harvard Law next year, isn't supposed to want someone like me, a rural Ohio chick majoring in Boredom at Convenience Store University who is all curves and frizzy blonde hair and manners so unpolished they have sharp edges that make you bleed. But he did. When his best friend, Joe Ross, the bass player for Random Acts of Crazy and a man who makes Calvin Klein models look like Shrek, drove eleven hours through the night to rescue him, though, it got real complicated. It's one thing to like two different guys and be torn. What do you do, though, when maybe - just maybe - you don't have to choose? As my Aunt Josie says sometimes, "It's always complicated."
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Random Acts of Crazy is a standalone, full-length novel featuring Darla Jo(sephine) Jennings, the 22-year-old niece of Josie Mendham from the Her Two Billionaires series. It has, like many New Adult novels, an exploration of sexuality for the three main characters, doesn't shy away from mature content, and Darla has a sailor's mouth.
From Goodreads
Hey guys! Today I present to you and Excerpt of Random Acts of Crazy which I picked, and I personally really liked this part, so I hope you do too :D!
Excerpt
As Joe walked out, I realized this was the moment. I had to steel myself for it, I had to be strong, I had to make sure I didn’t make a fool of myself so I did what I always do and I opened my mouth and I blurted out the stupidest shit possible.
“I would love to see you again, Trevor,” I said. “The next time you decide to eat a stupid shit amount of a mind-altering substance and travel naked six hundred miles, give me a visit.” Wink. Oh, God. I might as well have said “Y’all come back now, ya hear?” and thrown cornbread at him.
He smiled gently, his fingers touching my cheekbones, traveling down to the nape of my neck, making me want to blurt out even stupider words, like I love you, like stay, like make babies with me, like take me with you, like write a song about me – and I was damn close to saying all of those things but he just leaned in and shut my mouth up by pressing his against it.
The kiss wasn’t a goodbye kiss. It was more chaste than anything we’d shared over the past handful of hours and that’s what finally made me cry because it was less about passion – which we’d had plenty of in handfuls and spurts (no pun intended) – but this was a kiss of sorrow, a kiss of regret, a kiss so sweet and endearing and apologetic and nostalgic that I could feel it ten years ago and ten years hence.
What was Trevor doing, giving me a kiss like that? Bearing his soul to me with his lips, with his tongue, with fingertips that touched all the crying parts in me, all the aching cells, the mourning skin, the sad, sad heart that beat just for him right now. Everything I felt was so melodramatic and gratuitous and carved out of a Darla that I liked to pretend wasn’t there. Trevor made me real. Trevor made me come out. The me that I always imagined was there, undamaged, untouched by the years of wondering what if? What if Daddy hadn’t died? What if Mama had been OK? What if I’d gone to college? My own what if – thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster – would never be what if I had just driven past the naked rock star by the side of the road?
I may be stupid and I may make foolish choices but that one…that one I would never regret.
Trevor’s mouth pulled away and his eyes sought mine. “It’ll be OK,” he said. “And of all the people in the world and of all the places in the world, Darla,” he leaned over and kissed my forehead and pulled back, that jaunty, sultry grin like warm chocolate. “The next time I decide to escape my own life, naked and ready for anything, I’ll make sure I’m headed west.”
Joe ruined what would have been an absolutely perfect Hallmark moment – if Hallmark had a demented line of cards for shitstorms like this – by thumping through the door and shouting, “My fucking car won’t start!”
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About the Author
Julia Kent turned to writing romance novels after learning that she could not work as a fighter pilot because her fear of flying disqualified her. Turning to her second love, she became a dog groomer, but had to abandon that job after adopting too many strays. Writing about very real, very flawed people is a natural extension of her life and, well, her. She lives on the east coast with her partner, two small children, seventeen dogs that weigh less than fifteen pounds each, and a monthly consumption of Nutella, brie and french bread that makes cardiologists cringe.
Epic
Nice excerpt. Thanks for participating :)
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