{"id":8956,"date":"2016-06-16T05:00:41","date_gmt":"2016-06-16T09:00:41","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/?p=8956"},"modified":"2016-08-19T08:57:52","modified_gmt":"2016-08-19T12:57:52","slug":"excerpt-reveal-broken-love-by-jillian-dodd","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/?p=8956","title":{"rendered":"Excerpt Reveal: Broken Love by Jillian Dodd"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"broken<\/h4>\n

Cade & Palmer\u2019s story will be here on June 21st! <\/b><\/h4>\n

Pre-order Broken Love NOW for ONLY 99\u00a2.<\/b><\/h4>\n

(Price will change on release day)<\/h4>\n

iBooks<\/a>\u00a0|\u00a0<\/span>Amazon US<\/a> |\u00a0<\/span>Amazon UK<\/a>\u00a0|\u00a0<\/span>Google Play<\/a>\u00a0|\u00a0<\/span>Signed Paperback<\/a><\/span><\/h4>\n
\n

Blurb<\/strong><\/h4>\n

After years of crushing and many failed seduction attempts, Palmer Montlake had finally scored the sexy Cade Crawford. Both a little drunk when they got back to her place, they were frantic with need, their desire intense.
\nBut as the night progressed, the hot-mess hookup morphed to sweet lovemaking.
\nThe kind neither had ever experienced.<\/p>\n

But they were destined for heartbreak.
\nShe was his best friend\u2019s little sister.
\nHe was her talent agent.
\nAnd they were dating in secret.
\nWhen they got into a wicked fight and broke up, all hell broke loose.
\nThe kind neither have recovered from.<\/p>\n

Six years later, they still hate each other.
\nBut the universe seems to keep throwing them together.
\nWhen they catch the bouquet and garter at a mutual friend\u2019s wedding, sparks fly between them \u2014 their chemistry undeniable.<\/p>\n

Will they get a second chance? Or will they be left with a broken love?<\/p>\n

BROKEN LOVE is a STANDALONE, CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE NOVEL following Cade and Palmer from the USA Today Bestseller, Vegas Love.<\/p>\n

\"broken<\/p>\n

\n

\u00a0The Love Series<\/strong><\/h4>\n

(A series of STANDALONE novels featuring a different Crawford sibling. They can be read by themselves. However, if you do want\u00a0to read them all, they are best enjoyed in order.)<\/p>\n

\"Vegas\u00a0 \"Broken<\/p>\n

Vegas Love\u00a0<\/strong>(#1)
\n<\/strong>Buy: Kindle Ebook<\/a> | Paperback<\/a><\/p>\n

Broken Love (#2)
\n<\/strong>Pre-order: Kindle Ebook<\/a> | Paperback<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Find\u00a0Broken Love<\/em> on GOODREADS<\/a>!<\/h4>\n
\n
\n

Excerpt<\/strong><\/h4>\n

Cade<\/em><\/strong><\/h4>\n

The charter I use suggests changing our flight plan to land in Reno as opposed to the small Truckee airport I previously requested, due to high winds. We make the switch, take the flight, and I rent an SUV at the airport there.
\nI know the area is expecting some flurries today, but by the time I cross into Truckee, the snow is coming down hard and heavy. It\u2019s getting dark, the roads are slippery, and I find myself slowing down and taking each turn very carefully.
\nAs I round a corner, I spot a car that has slid off the road. A gorgeous woman is standing outside the car with a phone to her ear, her collar turned up, shivering against the cold.
\nPalmer.
\nShit.
\nEven though she tried to called me late Halloween night, I haven\u2019t called her back. I wasn\u2019t sure what to say, and I didn\u2019t want to hear whatever dumb excuse she had for not showing up. My plan was to come up here and figure out what to do regarding her.
\nPart of me wishes I could drive right by and pretend I don\u2019t see her.
\nBut, I can\u2019t.
\nWhen I saw the woman on the side of the road, my heart skipped a beat, recognizing her before I realized it was Palmer.
\nI put my flashers on, pull over, and roll down the passenger-side window. \u201cHey!\u201d
\n\u201cCade, is that you?\u201d she asks, her eyes wide with astonishment.
\n\u201cYeah, you need a lift?\u201d
\nShe glances at her car, then at me, like she\u2019s trying to decide which may be the lesser evil.
\nAfter a few seconds, she nods her head. \u201cYes, thank you. That would be great. The tow truck can\u2019t be here for at least an hour. I guess it\u2019s worse just west of here.\u201d
\n\u201cYou know, you shouldn\u2019t be out on roads like this all alone,\u201d I say, chewing her out a little. \u201cYou should have put on chains.\u201d
\n\u201cI thought I could make it,\u201d she replies, causing my mind to tumble back in time.<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought I could make it,\u201d she says. She\u2019s wearing a sundress, and the tip of her nose and her shoulders are a little pink from our day spent on the shores of Lake Tahoe. She\u2019s just fifteen, and I\u2019ll be turning twenty-one in a few days. She\u2019s going home with her family tomorrow, and then all our college buddies are coming up for a weekend party. To celebrate my finally being drinking-age legal.<\/em>
\n What\u2019s not legal is the girl standing in front of me. But you\u2019d never know it from looking at her. Palmer Montlake has been modeling. Already tall with the perfect body for hanging clothes from, she\u2019s just back from a European modeling trip.<\/em>
\n And, boy, has she ever grown up. In more ways than one. Most importantly, is the fact that I\u2019m sure she\u2019s flirting with me.<\/em>
\n I know I need to make her stop.<\/em>
\n But I\u2019m a little drunk, and she\u2019s way too pretty for her own good. Not to mention the fact that she was running around in a skimpy bikini all day long. But having her cover up doesn\u2019t mean I\u2019ve forgotten about how she looked.<\/em>
\n I chastise myself.<\/em>
\n She\u2019s just a kid. She\u2019s fifteen. Not only that, she\u2019s my best friend\u2019s kid sister\u2014the holy grail of what you don\u2019t mess with.<\/em>
\n She runs her hand down my arm, laughs, and says, \u201cWill you put a Band-Aid on it for me?\u201d<\/em>
\n When she was trying to jump from the boat to the dock like her brother and I did, she caught her flip-flop on the edge and crashed\u2014cutting her knee.<\/em>
\n \u201cIt\u2019s not that bad,\u201d I hesitate, knowing that under no circumstances can I can allow myself to touch her. I\u2019m afraid if I do, I won\u2019t be able to stop.<\/em>
\n \u201cCome on, Cade,\u201d she pouts, puffing out her sexy bottom lip. \u201cI\u2019ve helped you before. Remember a couple years ago when you were bleeding after sliding into home plate? I fixed you all up.\u201d<\/em>
\n I remember it, alright. But she didn\u2019t look like this back then. She was gawky and awkward like a gelding, not the gorgeous gazelle she is today.<\/em>
\n She jumps up onto the kitchen counter, immediately causing my mind to think about what naughty things I\u2019d do to her on this counter if she were as old as she looks.<\/em>
\n I take a deep breath, calm myself down, and put the Band-Aid gently across her knee.<\/em>
\n She kisses me on the cheek in return. What should be a quick thank-you peck is long and drawn out, and her scent lingers on me.<\/em>
\n \u201cThank you, Cade,\u201d she says, my name sounding like warm butter melting off her lips.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cThe snow is coming down fast,\u201d she says, bringing me back to the present.
\n\u201cThere\u2019s no way we can make it to your cabin,\u201d I say. \u201cI assume that\u2019s where you\u2019re going?\u201d
\n\u201cYeah, I was.\u201d
\n\u201cAre you supposed to meet anyone there?\u201d I inquire. Please say no.<\/em>
\n\u201cNo. I have some scripts to read, and Pike kind of wanted some time to himself.\u201d
\n\u201cMy place is closer,\u201d I say, thanking whatever divine intervention allowed her to go off the road. \u201cYou can stay there until the roads get better.\u201d
\n\u201cOkay,\u201d she says with a shy smile. \u201cThanks for rescuing me, Cade.\u201d
\n\u201cYou\u2019re welcome, Palmer.\u201d
\nShe gets in the car and shakes the snow out of her hair. \u201cI\u2019m sorry about the other night. Why didn\u2019t you call me back?\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know. I just\u2014\u201d
\n\u201cYou were pissed I didn\u2019t show up, right?\u201d
\n\u201cA little.\u201d
\n\u201cI sort of explained what happened in the text. Did you read it?\u201d
\n\u201cI did. Look, you know your brother hates me. He\u2019s staying at your house. It would be awkward, so I decided not to put you in that position.\u201d
\n\u201cI see,\u201d she says, putting her head down.
\nWhich makes me feel bad.
\nWe drive in silence for a few miles then she says, \u201cCan you even believe how gorgeous this snow is? Don\u2019t you just want to lay in it and make a bunch of snow angels?\u201d
\nI grip my wheel tighter as the car fishtails on a patch of ice. \u201cLet\u2019s hope we make it there first.\u201d
\n\u201cWhere are we going?\u201d she asks. \u201cI didn\u2019t know you had a place up here.\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019ve been looking for the right place for a quite a while. Just closed a few weeks ago.\u201d
\n\u201cIs it furnished? Are we going to have any food?\u201d
\n\u201cI have some basic furnishings and linens. Not much yet. I wanted to get a feel for the place before I order any more. And groceries were delivered earlier today.\u201d I turn and give her a wink. \u201cAlong with a few cases of wine.\u201d
\n\u201cSo we can get drunk, and we won\u2019t starve. Sounds like the perfect weekend.\u201d
\nI drum my fingers on the steering wheel, excited about how she mentioned the weekend. Does she want to spend the weekend with me?
\nCould I get so lucky?
\nI look over at her. Her cheeks and nose are red from the cold, but her eyes are bright with excitement about the falling snow. She\u2019s bouncing in the seat a little, like she\u2019s excited about something.
\nProbably just glad not to be standing on the side of the road anymore.<\/p>\n

After winding up the mountain into the ski resort area of Truckee, I pull into the driveway of my new home.
\n\u201cCade! It\u2019s so pretty!\u201d Palmer screeches. \u201cYou literally bought the house of my dreams. Don\u2019t you remember that time when I told you about it? That night when we laid under the stars in that hammock in Belize?\u201d
\nI remember, alright. I remember everything about that trip. How soft her skin felt, the way her ass looked in a skimpy little bikini, the way she fit perfectly into my arms, and how amazing it felt when I was inside of her.
\n\u201cWe were happy then,\u201d I say flatly, the memory both blissful and painful as I open the door and pull into the garage, knowing that\u2019s why this house took years to find. When she passionately described it to me, it became my dream, too.
\nShe jumps out of the car quickly, her face flush with excitement.
\n\u201cLeave the bags, Cade. Give me a tour.\u201d
\nGive me a tour.<\/em> If I had my way, a tour would involve christening each room by making love in it.
\nLove. Not sex. That\u2019s how it always was with Palmer. Even when the sex was completely dirty in nature, it always felt different.
\nI shake my head, take her outstretched hand, and follow her into the house.<\/p>\n

After giving her the tour of the place, I unload our luggage, putting hers in one of the guest bedrooms and praying she\u2019ll lock herself in and read her scripts, so I won\u2019t have to keep looking at her.
\nBecause if I have to keep looking at her, I\u2019m going to end up fucking her.
\nMy mother says love is based on strong emotions and that strong emotions polarize us. That\u2019s why I can both love Palmer and hate her at the same time.
\nAnd right now, I hate that I still love her.
\nShe\u2019s standing next to one of the big picture windows, looking outside.
\n\u201cThe snow is really coming down now,\u201d she says. \u201cThis is crazy beautiful.\u201d
\n\u201cYou\u2019re crazy beautiful,\u201d I mutter.
\n\u201cWhat?\u201d
\n\u201cI said you\u2019re crazy<\/em> beautiful, Palmer.\u201d I say it flatly, with no emotion. I\u2019m afraid to say it any other way.
\nShe blushes and self-consciously pushes back a strand of hair. I love that about her. How she isn\u2019t even aware of how truly stunning she is.
\n\u201cI think we need some of that wine,\u201d she says.
\n\u201cWine won\u2019t help things between us.\u201d
\n\u201cNo, it will probably make me want to sleep with you,\u201d she says with a sigh. Like she thinks it\u2019s a really bad idea. She walks over to the cabinet under the television and starts rummaging through it. \u201cDo you have any cards?\u201d She laughs, pulling out a big box. \u201cI should have known you\u2019d have Scrabble.\u201d
\n\u201cIt is a Crawford family tradition.\u201d
\n\u201cNot our<\/em> kind of Scrabble.\u201d
\n\u201cYou\u2019re right. I don\u2019t play dirty Scrabble with Mom and Dad. I\u2019ve never played it with anyone but you, actually.\u201d
\n\u201cSo,\u201d she says, giving me a sexy grin, \u201cshall we?\u201d
\nI look out at the snow still falling heavily. \u201cSure, why not. You\u2019re not going anywhere for a while. I thought you had a script to read or something?\u201d
\n\u201cScrabble sounds more titillating.<\/em>\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019ll be impressed if you can get that word on the board. Why don\u2019t you set up the game and open some wine. I\u2019ll go get some wood and get a fire going.\u201d<\/p>\n

Although the wood I had delivered is stacked neatly next to the house, I wish it wasn\u2019t. Staying outside in the bristling cold wind for a few hours chopping wood might be the only thing that could keep me from kissing Palmer.
\nHell, who am I kidding? I\u2019d do way more than kiss her. Visions of carrying her to my new four-poster bed cause me to immediately harden. I slam my hand against the wall. Stop thinking about that. You can\u2019t.
\nWhy not?<\/em> a voice inside my head wonders.
\nShe hates you, for one.<\/em> Only it doesn\u2019t really seem like she hates me anymore. Not like before when she wouldn\u2019t even talk to me.
\nI put the wood in a carrier, take it in the house, and get a roaring fire going.
\n\u201cThe fire is so pretty,\u201d she says from the kitchen.
\n\u201cThanks,\u201d I reply.
\n\u201cI have an idea,\u201d she says, sashaying her way toward me with a big smile on her face. Palmer\u2019s smile makes my knees weak. And I know that makes me sound like a fucking girl, but whatever, it\u2019s true.
\n\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d
\n\u201cPick the coffee table up for me,\u201d she instructs. I pick it up while she pulls the grey shag rug out from under it and moves it right up to the fireplace. \u201cPerfect!\u201d she exclaims, then strips all the pillows off the couch, tossing them to the ground. She carefully places the Scrabble game on the center of the rug, bending over and giving me a great view of her incredible ass. Seriously, it\u2019s the perfect shape. If I could just strip her naked, get behind her, and grab those hips, we\u2019d have a lot more fun than playing a stupid board game.
\n\u201cI thought you might be hungry,\u201d she says, scooting the big wooden coffee table toward the rug then grabbing a tray from the kitchen and setting it down. \u201cCheese, crackers, smoked salmon, caviar, and caramel popcorn.\u201d
\n\u201cThat\u2019s quite the combination,\u201d I tease.
\n\u201cI had to work with what you had. At least there\u2019s plenty of wine. Will you grab it?\u201d she asks as she sits her ass on my rug and doles out little square letters.
\nI set the bottle and the glasses on the coffee table, pour the wine, and sit down across from her.
\nThe lights flicker, then go out, enveloping the house in darkness.
\nShe nervously twists her hair. It\u2019s an old habit, something she\u2019s done since she was a kid. I remember so clearly her lying in bed after the first time we made love, twisting her hair and wondering out loud if our sleeping together was the right thing to do.
\nI didn\u2019t want her to second guess us then, and I don\u2019t want her to now.
\nI reach out and take her hand, just like I did then. \u201cWe\u2019ll figure something out,\u201d I say, repeating the words I told her that night. Her eyes flicker with surprise at my touch, but then she softens.
\n\u201cYou\u2019ve always known how to make me feel better,\u201d she says, gazing into my eyes and expressing more feelings than the words that came out of her mouth.
\nWhen she finally breaks eye contact, she smiles. \u201cI don\u2019t think the lights are coming back on. I saw candles in the pantry.\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019ll grab them,\u201d I say, quickly getting up. I have to fucking do something besides stare into her eyes, or I\u2019m going to\u2014no. Get that out of your mind. It\u2019s not going to happen. It can\u2019t happen. Her brother hates you. You can\u2019t do that to her.
\nUsing my phone to light the way, I get candles and matches along with a couple flashlights.
\n\u201cHere, let me help you,\u201d she says, getting up and attempting to grab a couple candles from my full arms. But when her hands brush my chest, I stop and stiffen\u2014everywhere.
\n\u201cUm, that\u2019s okay, I\u2019ve got them,\u201d I say, attempting to unload the candles onto the table only to have half of them topple to the ground. \u201cShit.\u201d
\n\u201cIt\u2019s okay, Cade,\u201d she says, dropping to her knees in front of me\u2014her head now at dick-sucking level.
\nFuck my life.
\nWhy did I stop to pick her up again?<\/p>\n

\"broken<\/p>\n

\n

About the Author<\/strong><\/h4>\n

\"jillianJillian Dodd grew up on a farm in Nebraska, where she developed a love for Midwestern boys and Nebraska football. She has drank from a keg in a cornfield, attended the University of Nebraska, got to pass her candle, and did have a boy ask her to marry him in a bar. She met her own prince in college, and they have two amazing children, a Maltese named Sugar Bear, and two Labrador puppies named Camber Lacy and Cali Lucy. She is the author of the That Boy Trilogy and The Keatyn Chronicles Series.<\/span><\/p>\n

WEBSITE<\/a><\/span>\u00a0|\u00a0<\/span>FACEBOOK<\/a><\/span>\u00a0| <\/span>TWITTER<\/a><\/span>\u00a0|\u00a0<\/span>INSTAGRAM<\/a><\/span>\u00a0| <\/span>GOODREADS<\/a><\/span><\/h4>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Cade & Palmer\u2019s story will be here on June 21st! Pre-order Broken Love NOW for ONLY 99\u00a2. (Price will change on release day) iBooks\u00a0|\u00a0Amazon US |\u00a0Amazon UK\u00a0|\u00a0Google Play\u00a0|\u00a0Signed Paperback Blurb After years of crushing and […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":8798,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","yasr_overall_rating":0,"yasr_post_is_review":"","yasr_auto_insert_disabled":"","yasr_review_type":"","_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[290],"tags":[301,380],"class_list":["post-8956","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-book-news","tag-excerpt","tag-jillian-dodd"],"yasr_visitor_votes":{"stars_attributes":{"read_only":false,"span_bottom":false},"number_of_votes":0,"sum_votes":0},"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/02\/Broken-Love.jpg?fit=150%2C224&ssl=1","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p7gaNL-2ks","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8956","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=8956"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8956\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/8798"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=8956"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=8956"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.escapistbookblog.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=8956"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}