Hi lovelies! It gives me great pleasure today to host Sara
Butler Zalesky and her new book, “Wheeler”!
Be
sure to make it to the end of this post to enter to win a signed copy of her
featured book AND a $25 Gift Card to Macaron Café’s Website!!
I checked out their website and they
have sooooo many delicious treats!! See
below for more details. Also, come back
daily to interact with Sara and to increase your chances of winning!
Thanks for stopping
by! Wishing you lots of luck in this
fabulous giveaway!
Wheeler
Sara Butler Zalesky
Publication
date: July 4th 2016
Genres:
Adult, Romance, Sports, Suspense
Fate
whispers to the warrior, ‘You cannot withstand the storm.’
The
warrior whispers back, ‘I am the storm.’
Loren
Mackenzie has spent much of her life honing her body to meet the physical
challenges of being a professional cyclist in the women’s European peloton. She
has also refined the control of her mind, using the power of her emotions in
competition to become one of the elite cyclists in the world. After an accident
at the Philadelphia International Cycling Classic, Loren must rise to the
challenge of leading her team as the Women’s World Tour races across Europe,
culminating with the opportunity to compete at the World Championships in
Richmond, Virgina.
When
a chance meeting develops into a whirlwind romance, what appears to be the
perfect relationship threatens to unravel Loren’s tightly wound life. The
microscope of tabloid media attention dredges up fears that her past will be
unearthed; tragic secrets she has kept buried, even from those closest to her.
Can
Loren face the trauma of her past and vanquish the demons within, or will
betrayal and obsession ultimately defeat her?
EXCERPT:
Loren
rose from her chair and began to gather up the cups and plates they had used as
Graham watched her through half-closed eyes. She leaned into the table with a
grin.
“Are
ya gettin’ sleepy?”
He
put his hands on her hips to pull her close. “No, are you?”
She
licked her lips. “I have to admit, I was enjoying what we were doing before we
were interrupted.” Loren raised a brow at him. Graham’s mouth twitched, and he
took out his mobile to shuffle through his music. As the first notes of the
song began, he stood and extended his hand to her.
“Dance
with me?” He drew Loren to him, his eyes never leaving hers as they moved in
rhythm with the music. “Hereafter, in a better world than this,” he murmured,
“I shall desire more love and knowledge of you.”
Their
breath mixed as his lips hovered over hers. He kissed her gently at first, then
with increased fervor as his hands glided over the curves of her body. Her
positive response urged him into further exploration. It was several minutes
before he realized he had laid her back on the table with one of her legs
curled over his hip. Graham reluctantly ended their kiss.
“I’m
sorry. I-I got a little carried away there,” he said, his breathing unsteady.
Loren
kissed him. “We both got a little carried away.”
He
helped her return to her feet but couldn’t bring himself to let go. He brushed
the back of his fingers against her cheek and kissed her again. Her touch, her
smell, the way she felt in his arms; he’d never been so completely at ease with
anyone. He pressed his forehead lightly into hers.
“Who
are you?”
She
backed out of his embrace and offered him her hand. “Loren Mackenzie, pro
cyclist. Nice to meet you.”
Graham
laughed and shook her hand. “I am so glad I turned around!”
Her
chuckle dissolved as she tucked her lower lip in her teeth. “I’d better get you
back to your car before we do something we might regret.”
He
took a deep breath and licked his lips. “You’re right.” He squinted at her.
“How would you, you said you don’t have a car?”
“I
have a motorcycle.”
“Oh,
I don’t think so, darling.” He released her from his arms.
“Come
on.” Loren motioned for him to follow and headed to a shed hidden behind the
willow tree. When she opened the doors, the glossy black BMW F800R sport bike
glowed in the overhead florescent light.
He
scoffed as he placed his hand on the headlamp. “The two of us won’t fit on
that.”
“Not
that one. This one.” She took the canvas off the matte black Harley-Davidson
Night Rod motorcycle. “Anthony’s Harley is bigger than mine.”
Graham’s
mouth dropped open. “Wow. That’s…that’s a Harley?” He frowned. “But still…”
She
tossed a helmet at him. “Come on. Help me get it out of the stand.” She grabbed
the handlebars, and they both gave the bike a push to roll it out of the shed
and Loren set the kickstand. “Anthony keeps it in good shape, but it still
needs to be ridden every so often,” she said, putting on her helmet. “He
converted his garage into a gym, that’s why it’s here.”
“Ah,”
he said, holding open the larger gate next to the shed for her as she pushed
the Harley down the gravel path to the street. Graham followed her only to stop
short at the sight of her on the machine.
“Come
on. I’m a professional,” she chuckled and patted the seat behind her. He was
grumbling as he donned the helmet, then mounted the seat behind her. His knees
were under her arms with his feet on the pegs, and she giggled as she leaned
back against him like an easy chair.
“Yes,
yes, it’s hilarious,” he muttered, making her laugh harder.
Loren
pushed the ignition and the engine rumbled to life beneath them. After knocking
the stand with her heel, she eased out the clutch while rolling the throttle to
move off down the street. Graham had been holding her waist loosely at first,
but as the Harley took off, the burst of speed had him tighten his arms. He
could feel her laughing in his embrace.
Loren
came to a brief stop at London Road then took a left turn to rumble down the
street. Another left turn and they were soon at the car park where she came to
a stop next to his car and set the stand again. She was grinning as she took
off her helmet as Graham awkwardly dismounted.
“Fun,
huh?”
“I
reckon I would have preferred to walk,” he complained as he handed her the
helmet where she hooked it to the buckle behind her then swung her leg over the
bike. She was smiling as she approached.
“Oh,
that’s a pity,” she said, sliding her hands around his waist. “I rather liked
having your arms around me.”
“You
have but to ask, my Lady.” He gathered her in his arms to nuzzle her neck. “I
must admit, I would have been quite put out if I had to wait another week to
see you.”
“Me,
too.”
“Good
night, good night. Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night
‘til it be morrow.” His voice was a low rumble as he leaned in to kiss her, but
stopped. “Well, not actually tomorrow, as you’ll be off to Colchester.”
“Oh,
do shut up and kiss me,” Loren laughed.
“Gladly,”
Graham murmured and staked his claim to her lips.
GUEST POST:
As
was pointed out in Literary Titan’s review of Wheeler recently, there’s a lot
of Shakespeare in the story. Graham Atherton was inspired by a mix of
personages that are all classically trained actors of a particular ‘type.’ When
I close my eyes, I can hear his voice disturbingly clear, and that voice speaks
fluent Shakespeare. Thing is, it fits his personality.
Can
you imagine Aaron Eckhart spouting Shakespeare? Nope. But you sure can Colin
Firth. Definitely James McAvoy. And so, it is how my Muse speaks.
As
you read Wheeler, your mind might conjure up a tall, svelte, aristocratic
Englishman, with dark, purposely tousled hair and painfully blue eyes. But
Graham is also nowhere near perfect. He has ugly feet. His eyebrows are
lopsided. He can be selfish and insensitive. When wounded, he lets his anger
fester until it blows up in everyone’s face. He is the ultimate White Knight. He
will avoid his own problems in order to save those around him.
In
his world, relationships are intense, and short lived. Film shoots, especially
dramas, the actors are steeped in heavy emotions and become close quickly. It’s
why a lot of relationships develop between co-stars, but it’s also why these
relationships break up in just a few months. Real Life is not exciting and it
takes both people to be all in to make a relationship work.
Graham
is isolated even though he’s often surrounded by people. While he might not
admit it to himself, he’s lonely and when he feels a connection with Loren and
sees it reflected back, he’s like a Golden Retriever: he’s all over the place
excited. Like his past relationships, his desire to love and be loved sometimes
blinds him to the real person with whom he’s infatuated. Without something else
to focus on, his world becomes Loren – or his perception of her.
Loren
also has an intense personality, as well as being isolated, but for completely
different reasons. She is focused on rising to the challenge of leading her
team and her relationships with her teammates are close. They have to trust
either completely out on the road and each member of the team has to put aside
their personal desires to work together to win. If they don’t, the team falls
apart.
When
Loren meets Graham, she is blinded by her infatuation and gobbles up his
attention like her favorite French Macarons. A part of her recognizes the
pattern though, and she tries to hold back.
“I don’t know. Maybe this is
good for us.”
“I don’t think it’s good,”
Graham whined as he sat up more.
“I’m trying to be pragmatic
here.” Loren exhaled, then faced him again. “I mean, we both feel like this all
came on a little fast, right?”
“Perhaps,” he replied, his
frown deepening.
She took his hand. “I’m
afraid that if we keep going the way we are, it’s going to burn out. Nobody can
keep up that kind of intenseness for long, and the last thing I want to be is a
punchline.”
He flinched. “You would not
be a punchline.”
“Yes, I would, you know
that,” she countered, then turned back to the windows. “I’m not perfect,
Graham. I can be moody and slightly condescending, and maybe a little
controlling.” She winced. “They call me the Ice Queen for a reason. You just
bring out the warm and fuzzy in me.”
His soft smile reflected
hers. “I try very hard to be the perfect gentleman, host, actor, friend, but I
fail, often. I can be insensitive and selfish and perhaps a wee bit of a
wanker.” Graham’s smile dissolved. “I can’t give you a relationship without arguments
or hurt feelings. We’re two souls with our own baggage. But what I will
promise,” he raised his brow, “is to give you my absolute best in every moment.
If you can give me the same promise, then I don’t see how we can go wrong, even
when we’re more than five thousand miles from each other.”
See
that, not one line of Shakespeare. They both recognize things went a little
fast and as their long-distance relationship continues, their love letters
reveal more than either could say in person.
As
I said before in a previous post on my blog, I have read every word that
Shakespeare wrote, more than I ever did back in high school. There are three
pages of citations in the back of Wheeler. Damn you, Google for helping my Muse
out like that. It could be a wee over the top sometimes but by the end of the
novel, I toned it down.
The reason: I ran out of
lines.
AUTHOR BIO:
Sara
was born in the wee hours of a November night in New York City. When her family
moved to a small borough in northwestern New Jersey, she had little choice but
to move as well. Self-sufficiency is a tough thing for a toddler.
The
dichotomy of being the middle child of three, but the only girl, was difficult,
as typically no one really pays attention to a middle child. Mostly, Sara spent
her time creating fanciful stories in her head when she should have been
focused on other things, an issue that continues to this day.
Most
of these stories have never been shared, let alone completed. This all changed
in the spring of 2015, when Sara was encouraged by a friend to expand upon a
short story she had accidentally emailed to him. The result is 'Wheeler’, a
romantic, women's fiction/sport novel, which combines the author's romantic
inclinations and her passion for cycling.
Sara
currently resides in the suburbs of Philadelphia, PA, with her loving husband
and their son. She is a paralegal for a boutique law firm in Chester County,
Pa, an avid road cyclist and indoor cycling instructor at a national chain.
Follow
the author’s blog at sarabutlerzalesky.wordpress.com or on Twitter
@sarazalesky. She does a little dance every time someone ‘follows’ her on
Twitter. Really.
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