Delighted to welcome my guest Kelly Martin this weekend — and let y'all see somebody else's sample for a change. Kelly had a mad-dash blog tour Mar. 28th and may have broken a record for the most blogs running in a single day.
I don’t know about her, but I’m exhausted just hearing how many stops were on Kelly’s tour for Saint Sloan, released one month ago.
Without any further ado, here’s Kelly, with an excerpt and her terrific cover.
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By Kelly Martin
I want to thank Jeff SO much for having me on his blog this weekend! Thursday was a big day for me --- a 12 stop one day blog tour extravaganza! (huzzah!) I’m trying to let everyone know about my new novel, Saint Sloan which came out Feb. 28th from Astraea Press
(happy dance!)
In it, Sloan Bridges just wants to have the perfect eighteenth birthday. Her attacker has other ideas.
—When Sloan Meets Aaron
The car slowed at the four-way stop that connected Brown Hollow Road to
Highway 70. Sloan tensed, realizing she really was at Aaron’s mercy. If he turned left, he would end up in Nashville. The road straight ahead led to Harrisburg, a very small town with two red lights and three factories that employed most of the people in the county. If he turned right, he would end up in Chapel Hill, Sloan’s desired
destination.
The streetlight above the stop sign illuminated the interior of the car just enough for her to see Aaron. He had dark, wavy, almost curly hair a little on the
longer side. The front poofed back, most likely with the help of some extra hold gel. If Sloan remembered correctly, it had been curly when they were kids. Aaron was a grade ahead of her and Ray, so she didn’t see him very much at school. He had on a black leather jacket with a black button-down shirt underneath. His olive skin and brown eyes made him look nothing like his half-brother, Ray, who she remembered had blonde hair and blue eyes.
The guys had the same mother but different fathers. Aaron obviously took after his father since Sloan remembered his mother as having sheet-white, pale skin.
Aaron sat up and tapped his fingers on the wheel, looking first to the right, then to the
left. “Hmm… which way to go?” From the playful grin he tried to hide, she knew he was kidding… or hoped he was anyway.
“You’d better turn the way that takes me home,” she played along. “I did tell Mackenzie to call the police if she didn’t hear from me. You’ve got about thirty minutes, buddy.”
“I can do a lot in thirty minutes.” He smirked.
“Yeah, like get me home.” Sloan knew she should be leery of him, but she couldn’t be. For some reason, she had a good feeling about him. She prayed that feeling didn’t lead her down the wrong path.
“Oh, all right,” he sighed overdramatically. His big brown eyes shone in the streetlight. “Can’t have the cops after me again,” he said as he turned right toward Chapel Hill.
“Wait.”
“Something wrong?”
“You said you can’t have the cops after you again. What did you do to have them after you before?”
“Which time?” He clearly enjoyed making her uncomfortable.
“There was more than once?” She had to fight to keep her jaw from dropping. Little Aaron Hunter had changed a lot in nine years.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head. It wasn’t anything horribly bad.”
“That’s what they all say.”
“Who?”
“Serial killers and murderers.”
“If you thought I was a murderer, you never would have gotten in the car with me.”
“I might have if I thought it was a better alternative than going back to that house and
dealing with Darcy Perry.”
He laughed at that. “That bad, huh?”
She shrugged and stared at the black nothingness of acres of farmland outside her
window.
He took a deep breath. “I’m not a murderer. Never killed anybody. I was wrongly accused, actually.”
“Of what?”
“Of something I didn’t do.”
He smiled and she glared. “Thanks. That helps a lot.”
“Sorry, it’s just a long story.”
“Tease.” She giggled. Then the more she thought about it, the more curious she became about him. “It had to be rough, though. Being accused of something you didn’t do.”
The fields of tall grass and scattered trees gradually became speckled with the lights of
houses the closer they got to town. “It happens. Anyway, I’m not that guy anymore.”
“Saw the light, did you?”
“Not in the found Jesus way. But things happened. I turned eighteen a little over a year ago and had to grow up.”
“I’ll be eighteen on December second.” She couldn’t hold in her excitement.
“This Tuesday?”
“Yeah,” she beamed. She had looked forward to this birthday for as long as she could
remember. Her mom promised they would go shopping for the car of her dreams. She’d had her license for a while but had to wait two years longer than everyone else she knew for a car. The last few days had seemed like torture.
“Well, let me be the first to wish you a very happy birthday, Sloan Bridges.”
“Why, thank you, Aaron Hunter.” She grinned back.
* * * *
Sound interesting? Buy the book from any of the links below:
AMAZON:
http://www.amazon.com/Saint-Sloan-ebook/dp/B00BMQ9E9O/ref=pd_sim_kstore_1
BARNES AND NOBLE:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/saint-sloan-kelly-martin/1114723748?ean=2940016377308
SMASHWORDS:
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/290677
ASTRAEA PRESS:
http://www.astraeapress.com/#!/~/product/category=662245&id=20839143
KOBO:
http://www.kobobooks.com/ebook/Saint-Sloan/book-wNrqosRRB0i2jU9ym34izg/page1.html?s=4Xoj6XizzUOFvTfhOsZ87Q&r=1
Thank you so much for having me here today!
Author bio:
Kelly Martin is a best selling author of young adult fiction. She has two books: Grace Award nominee Crossing The Deep and Amazon Best selling in Teen/Religion Saint Sloan. She has several short stories published and loves to write ‘twitter fiction’ when she’s bored. Kelly loves God, is addicted to chocolate, and would rather write than sleep.
You can find her on twitter (she tweets a lot): @martieKay