Author: Sara Fawkes
Publisher: St. Martin's Griffin
Release Date: March 4, 2014
Buy Link: http://www.amazon.com/Breathe-into-Me-Sara-Fawkes-ebook/dp/B00F1RE1M0/ref=sr_1_4? ie=UTF8&qid=1389976507&sr=8-4&keywords=sara+fawkes
How did my life get so broken? It's a question Lacey St. James asks herself every day. Stuck raising
her little brother in a trailer park while she works a dead end job at a grocery store, she has a stalker
exboyfriend, a bad reputation, and no way out.
And then she meets Everett, whose quiet but persistent presence changes her life.
Everett is an enigmatic outsider who is only visiting for the summer, and for reasons Lacey can't
understand, he seems completely transfixed by her. He's determined to show her that life can offer
more than she'd ever hoped for, if only she believes in herself. She desperately yearns to trust him, but
what happens when she finds out that everything he's told her is a lie?
Excerpt: My job as a grocery bagger sucked, but at least the busy days made time go by quicker.
“Paper or plastic?” I asked automatically as I began organizing the groceries coming down the line.
I was on my last pull for the day, only an hour before I got done, and I was itching to leave. When
I didn’t get an answer to my question, I looked up to see Everett standing in front of me. I froze in
shock for a second, and then managed to come to my senses. “Paper or plastic?” I repeated, albeit in a
less forceful voice.
“Paper please.”
Swallowing, I bent my head to the task at hand, piling groceries into the paper bags. You knew you
couldn’t keep away from him forever, not in a town this tiny. As far as I could tell, this was a simple
grocery run, and, by the selection, he ate pretty healthy.
“Told you I’d see you around.”
I looked up to gauge his expression and found him studying me. His words didn’t sound like a threat,
but after the incident in the bar I’d been on hyper alert lately. “Yes, you did,” I agreed cautiously, still
mortified that he had seen me at my worst.
“What are you doing after work?”
I stared at him, surprised by the question. In the daylight, he was even cuter than I’d thought. Dark,
shaggy hair hung, and that dimple was back on his cheek. It pained me to turn down someone this
cute, but I shook my head. “I have another job.”
“Oh.” He paused as I loaded the cart. “What about after that?”
“Sleep hopefully.”
“What about tomorrow?”
“More work.” I was trying to let him down gently, but he was persistent.
He shrugged. “What’s there to do around here?”
“Not much.”
“If I gave you my number, would you let me know if you remember anything fun to do?”
I frowned at him, trying to gauge whether he was serious. That I hadn’t scared him away after the
incident in the bar boggled my mind. Yet here he was, asking for my number. Unsure how to answer, I
kept my mouth shut and finished bagging his groceries.
Everett paid for the food before turning back to me. “Can I get help with my bags?”
The car-side service was standard for the store, but most men didn’t ask for it. Rolling my eyes, I
turned the cart toward the door, but he tried to cut in.
“I can do that for you.”
“Do you want my help or not?”
He held up his hands, a smile tipping one side of his mouth. “Whoa there, I was trying to be nice.”
Shaking my head, I pushed the cart toward the entrance, not waiting to see if he was following. “What
do you want?” I snapped once we got outside.
“To talk.”
“What else do you want?”
“To get to know you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re the most interesting person I’ve met since coming here.”
Interesting. That was one way to put it. “Clearly you don’t get around much.”
He pointed his car out in the parking lot and winced in sympathy. In the light of day, it looked even
worse than I’d originally imagined. A large crack split the windshield, with several more fanning out
from some impact point. Rust was already started eating away at his fenders, and the antenna was
broken off halfway up. It was a wonder the whole thing didn’t fall apart on the spot. “Did you drive
this all the way from college?”
“No, I bought it here.” He regarded the vehicle fondly, leaning one hip against the rear. “I like it, fits
me better than what I have at home.” He opened the hatchback and watched me quickly unload the
groceries. “You seem eager to get rid of me.”
“Maybe.” There was no conviction in the word. It had been a long time since I’d just talked to a boy
like this, and it was nicer than I cared to admit. Most were after only one thing, which made the game
old and depressing. Everett had come to my rescue in the bar however, something that deserved
more than the cold shoulder.
Unfortunately, old habits died hard.
“Why?” He lifted one arm and took a dramatic sniff. “Do I smell?”
The action brought out a surprised laugh from me. He grinned at my response, twin dimples creasing
his cheeks again, and I couldn’t look away. He really was handsome; I totally understood why Ashley
was ready to fight me for him. “Rugged” was probably the best word to describe him. His shoulders
were broad like a football player, but he didn’t act like any jock I’d ever met. I remembered the cold
look he’d given Ashley and the blank hardness when he’d stared down Macon, but I saw none of that
now.
“So what’s your other job?”
“Why, so you can stalk me there too?” The words came out almost flirty, and I blinked. Everett just
kept smiling at me, and I rolled my eyes. “See you around,” I echoed, turning the cart around toward
the store…and paused. My hands worked the handle of the cart nervously. Finally, I turned back
around. “Fine, give me your number.”
Everett leaned inside an open window and pulled out a receipt and pen. He scrawled a few numbers,
and then handed it back to me. “You’re a tough nut to crack.”
I gave him a bemused stare. Pot, meet kettle. I glanced at the writing then stuffed the paper into my
pocket. “I gotta get back to work.”
Walking the cart back toward the supermarket, I resisted the urge to look back. I added a few more
carts scattered through the empty spaces to my stack, resolutely refusing to peer in his direction. I
wasn’t going to play this game, I wasn’t.
Then, just as I got to the door of the store, I hazarded a glance back just to see if he’d left yet.
He waved to me, still leaning back against that ratty hatchback.
Dammit.
Author Bio: Sara Fawkes has always loved spinning tales. As someone who’s been writing since she was a little girl
(and has the home made books from preschool to prove it), she loves creating stories and characters
and interesting messes for them to get into. And for the handsome guy to always get the girl in the end.
An avid traveler and adventure motorcyclist, her dream job includes selling everything off and leaving
civilization to see the world on two wheels, writing in cafes in each country she visits, and living off her
writing. In the meantime however, she lives in California with her menagerie of pets and, when not
writing, loves to rebuild old motorcycles/cars and practice her fiddle.
Website: http://sara-fawkes.com/
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