Loverboy
Title – Loverboy
Author – Trista Jaszczak
Genre – Romance/Thriller
Re-Release Date – October 31, 2013
Publisher – Planettopia Publishing
Cover Artist – Beetiful Designs
Book Blurb/Synopsis –
Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/Trista-Jaszczak/e/B004MJDHM8/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1383027176&sr=8-1
Goodreads Link – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4530480.Trista_Jaszczak
SHARE YOUR AUTHOR BIO HERE:
Trista Jaszczak (jazz-ick) is the author of the
Believe series, retold, and upcoming relaunches, Loverboy, What Lies Inside and
the Darkness Falls series. She is an Air Force spouse and mother to two
mischievous and rambunctious little girls. She is originally from Hamilton,
Ohio but calls home where ever the Air Force sends her. She currently resides
in Anchorage, Alaska where she finds endless inspiration in the pure Alaskan
wilderness. When she isn’t writing, she spends her time with her family in the
vast Alaskan outdoors, plucking away at her old guitar or working on self-improvement
in the gym. She loves the outdoors, the moon, old movies and music.
SHARE YOUR STALKER LINKS HERE:
Amazon Author Page – http://www.amazon.com/Trista-Jaszczak/e/B004MJDHM8/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1383027176&sr=8-1
Website/Blog – http://tristajaszczak.wordpress.com/
Twitter should be http://www.twitter.com/ authortrista
Facebook should be http://www.facebook.com/ authortrista
Tumblr should be http://www.tumblr.com/ authortrista
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the tour excerpt you want used below:
My name is Charlotte Murphy.
Charlotte? Charlotte… No… No, they call me Charlie. I call me Charlie. Everyone
calls me Charlie; they have for years. My head hurts. Bad. I’m twenty-one? I’m
from Indiana. Wait. Where in Indiana? Why can’t I remember? My parents have
lived there all my life. Indiana? Morgantown, Indiana. But, I moved? I don’t
live there anymore. Ugh. Why can’t I move my head? No. I don’t live there
anymore. I live in New York. For…for…? School. For school. I live there for
school. And, I’m a dancer. I’m an instructor for a studio part time. I work
with the younger girls. I can’t move my arms, either. Where am I? Where was I?
It’s black, everything is black. I was leaving school. No. Work? No, I don’t
work until later this week. Why can’t I remember? What was I doing? I was
leaving…something. Somewhere. I’m sore. Everywhere hurts. The party. I was
leaving a party. That’s it. I left the party, because people were acting crazy.
I walked. I walked home. I remember. I cut through Central Park. But then
someone grabbed me. Someone grabbed me hard. They covered my mouth. I remember!
My eyes pop open, and suddenly I’m
greeted by annoying, harsh white lights and beeping noises. I groan softly. My
God, I was right. I was grabbed. Someone kidnapped me. They don’t still have me
do they? They can’t. No. I ran. I got away. I move my eyes around slowly and
realize the only thing that can have beeping noises and such bright lights is
the hospital. I’m in the hospital. I don’t remember getting here. I couldn’t have
gotten here by myself. Could I? I moan again, this time making an attempt to
move my hand. At least, I think I’m trying to move my hand. It hurts, too. My
head, my neck, my arms, my legs, everywhere. Stabbing pains, shooting pains;
pains that I’ve never felt before in my life course through every last inch of
my body. Just how hurt am I? I can feel my heart beginning to pound furiously
deep in my chest. I hear a clicking noise and feet on the floor as the sounds
come closer.
“Charlotte?” I hear a soft female
voice.
I open my mouth and realize how dry
it is. I swallow hard and make another attempt to speak.
“It’s okay, Sweetie,” she interrupts
me. “You don’t have to talk. Do you know where you are?”
I give myself a moment and fight
through the pain enough to nod my head.
“You understand that you’re in the
hospital?” She asks.
I lick my dry lips to find an array
of what feels like cuts around them, and nod slowly once more.
“You are one lucky girl,” she says,
as I feel her working with the tubes that I now see are all attached to me. “We
didn’t expect you to wake up this soon.”
“Pain,” I finally choke out.
“Don’t worry; we’ll get you
something more for the pain.” She reassures me. “Just try to relax for me.
Don’t worry now; the police are here.”
The police?
“Police?” I stammer.
“Why, dear, after what you’ve just
been through they wouldn’t dare leave you without protection,” she says softly,
as I feel her working with another tube that I can now tell is running directly
into my arm.
“Protection?” I ask. “I was,” I
pause to swallow. “I was kidnapped.” My thoughts become jumbled a moment as I
try to comprehend everything that’s happened to me. Everything in my mind seems
to be surrounded by a thick haze, and I can’t pull even one random through from
the mess.
She looks down at me, making the
most pitiful face I have ever seen on a person. “Oh, Sweetheart, I better let
the police talk to you about that.”
Just how bad am I?
“Can I,” I stop. “Can I sit up?” I
ask
“Do you feel up to it?” She asks. “I
don’t want to exhaust you; you just woke up.”
“How long have I been out?” I ask,
now feeling more strength in my voice.
She takes a moment to glance at the
gold watch on her wrist. “Just about twelve hours now, dear.”
Twelve hours?!
“I think sitting up will help my
back,” I reply, softly.
She cocks her head to the side,
giving me the pitiful look again. This time I can’t be too sure, but I think I
can see tears in her eyes. She finally nods and begins pushing buttons on the
side of the bed that control the angle and lift. I can feel my body’s muscles
beginning to work for the first time, in what feels like, years. Aches, pops,
and uncomfortable groans; I can feel it all. I finally bring my strongest hand
up to my neck, rubbing a tender spot that is completely covered with what I can
only assume is a large bandage.
“Would you like a pillow behind your
back?” She asks, the pitiful look falling over her face again.
I can’t imagine just how bad I look,
but judging by the look on her face, not pretty. I nod slowly as she helps me
lean forward, just enough for her to slide the pillow behind me.
“Can I get you anything else?” She
asks, giving my shoulder a tender pat.
I shake my head.
“Well, the doctor will be in
shortly,” she replies. “But, if you need me, just push this button.” She pulls
a remote from behind the bed, pointing at the bright red button. She smiles. “The other two buttons control
your TV.”
“Thank you,” I manage, as I weakly
take the remote from her hand.
As the nurse turns to make her exit,
I’m surprised to see a doctor already on his way in. He’s tall with pale skin,
and his eyes give the impression that he hasn’t slept in days. His hair too;
it’s mousy brown and cut short, but looks as though he’s just crawled out of
bed. He smiles.
“Glad to see you awake,” he says.
“How do you feel?”
“Like I was just run over by a Mack
truck,” I say, working to adjust myself in the bed.
“Well, given what you’ve just been
through, I would say you should feel even worse,” he says. “Mind if I have a
look at you?”
I shake my head. Do I honestly have
a choice? He steps closer, and suddenly I feel a pang of panic that I can’t
explain. My heart begins to race and I can feel sweat beginning to build up on
the palm of my hands. I swallow and give him a strange look. I open my mouth to
apologize, but he politely stops me.
“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you,” he
says.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I don’t,” I
pause to swallow and look away for a moment, “I don’t know what happened.”
“You’ve been through a lot, Charlotte.
You’re a very lucky young woman.”
“I guess I don’t remember what
exactly I’ve been through,” I say, looking down at the tiled hospital floor.
“One step at a time,” he says. “Best
just to take it easy for now. Would you like for me to call Doctor Kenton?
She’s really great to work with. I think you would really like her.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s okay. I
trust you.”
Five whole minutes into his routine
examination, and I regret not letting him phone Doctor Kenton. My palms are
sweaty, my mouth is dry, and, though I have been able to control my racing
heart, I’m sure he’s able to pick up on how uneasy I am with his hands anywhere
near me. After listening to my heart, he backs away slowly and smiles.
“Everything looks perfect,” he says.
“You sure you feel alright?”
I nod. “As well as I can for the
aches and pains.”
“I can certainly make sure you have
something for the pain,” he says, “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“Well, I do have a question,” I say,
“How long will I be in here?”
“It’s hard to say,” he says, “It
could be a few more days; it could be a week. The best thing for you is to stay
here until you’ve healed. You’ve endured a lot, and I wouldn’t want to release
you just yet.”
I nod. I should have figured. “Is
there any way that I could get some clothes that are a little more,” I pause.
“Covering?”
He nods. “I can’t see how some good
warm sweats would hurt.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“And, one last thing,” he says.
“There’s a gentleman here; a police officer.
He’s to stand guard at your door.”
Police? Stand guard at my door? What
the hell happened to me?
“Okay.”
“I’m sure he’ll be in shortly for
his questions.”
I nod.
“You let us know if you need
anything, Charlotte.” He smiles.
I nod again in silence as he makes
his way out the door. It’s then that I can hear him talking to the cop, who
truly is standing just outside my door. I slowly lean my head back and sigh. I
can’t remember a thing. What’s worse is, now I don’t know that I want to.
The light knock at the door makes me
jump unexpectedly. I let out a deep breath as the nurse from before steps in,
smiling.
“I brought you something warmer to
slip on,” she says, “The police department was kind enough to lend us some
sweats for you,” she explains as she sets them on the bed. “Would you like some
help getting dressed?”
I look down at my right hand that’s
badly bruised, there’s an IV ran in the top. Glancing to the left, I see it’s
in the same horrible shape, minus the IV. I give a slight nod, and she begins
helping pull the blankets back. It’s the first time I’ve seen anything other
than my hands, and I see that both my legs are cut up badly and bruised. My
mouth drops as I see some of the cuts are extremely deep and have been stitched
up. My eyes follow up my legs to my bruised thighs, and I see the deep purple
bruising has gone in between them. I look up at the nurse, with, more than
likely, the same pitiful look she gave me.
“I’m sorry,” she says, softly. “We
don’t have to do this now.”
I shake my head and swallow. “I want
to be covered.”
She nods as she helps my legs off
the side of the bed.
“I was raped.” I ask, “Wasn’t I?”
She quietly reaches for the navy
blue sweat pants and gingerly guides my legs into them. Finally, she looks up
and gives me a slow, sad nod.
I lick my lips and look down as I
ease myself down off the bed long enough to pull the sweat pants up around my
sore waist that is just as tender to touch as my legs.
“Would you like the sweatshirt on
too?” She asks, holding up the navy blue sweatshirt that has the word POLICE in
bold yellow print on the front.
I nod. “I just want to be covered.”
“I understand,” she says as she
begins working gingerly around the IV, and an array of deep cuts and bruises
that I now see are all over my upper body as well. I feel a wave of nausea wash
over me as I fight to hold everything from vomit to tears inside.
“There,” she says, finally tugging
the warm shirt down around me. “Feel better?”
I nod. “Thank you for your help.”
“It’s no trouble,” she replies.
“Would you like some socks, too? These floors get so cold at night.”
I immediately nod, wanting each and
every inch of my body to be covered by something, anything at all.
She pulls a pair of thick gray socks
from a storage cabinet, and is kind enough to help them on my feet. She smiles
and pulls the blankets around me once more. “You get some rest now. The more
you rest, the quicker you’ll heal.” She smiles, as she heads for the door.
I force a smile. “Thank you. I
will.”
Normally, I wouldn’t mind being left
alone at all; but, now that I have a lot swimming through my mind, I don’t want
to be left alone to remember anything. I remember I had walked to my friend
Rachael’s party. I knew most of the people there, except for a small handful of
her latest fling’s friends. They were the reason I left. Turns out they had a
taste for a lot of booze and drugs too. And, by drugs, I don’t mean marijuana.
I mean cocaine and other substances I don’t even want to think about putting
anywhere near my body. I told Rachael it was bad news, and to get them out.
But, she didn’t believe me, of course. Isn’t that how it always worked? It was
her party and her place, so I did what I thought was best. I grabbed my coat
and took off. I walked. I know I walked; I usually walk everywhere. But, I cut
through Central Park. Not because it’s really a short cut, but just because
it’s one of my favorite places. That was my mistake, cutting through the park.
That’s where he got me. How stupid can I be? Who walks through a deserted park,
late at night, alone? Apparently, stupid Charlie Murphy does.
I make a feeble attempt to roll to
my side, but I’m greeted by a new stabbing pain on my hip. One so bad I let out
a loud cry and bring myself nearly to tears. I take a few deep breaths, and
suddenly the large, wooden hospital door is flung open with such a great force
that it makes a loud banging noise against the wall. There, standing in the
doorway, is the police officer. There’s no mistaking him in his perfect black
uniform. He’s young, a lot younger than I would ever expect, and tall with
golden brown hair that has a messy style. My yelp has clearly startled him. His
body finally relaxes, and he straightens himself out.
“I’m sorry,” He says, “I didn’t mean
to bother you, I just…” He stops.
I shake my head. “It’s okay.”
“I’ll just be outside if you need
me,” he says, as he grabs for the door handle to shut it behind him.
I stare blankly at the door. He’s a
‘He’. How could the police department even think of sending a man after what
I’d been through? Even though, I admit I wasn’t fully aware of just what I had
been through yet. Stupid police department. Stupid me. Stupid men. Stupid
everything. I sigh deeply. The pain in my side is slowly beginning to fade into
a light throbbing. I have a sudden urge to lift my sweatshirt in order to see
what has caused the immense pain, but after seeing my legs, I fight the urge to
look just yet. After my legs, I’m terrified to see the rest of me, even though
I know I will have to eventually. It is my body, after all.
Despite the aches and pains that are
pulsing and throbbing, I pull the blanket up around my shoulders a bit tighter
and close my eyes. I suddenly feel exhausted again. Apparently I’d just been
through hell, and I looked like it too, so I didn’t see anything wrong with
letting myself fall into a nice, deep sleep.
Charlotte “Charlie” Murphy
Age: 21
Eyes: blue
Hair: blonde
Height: 5’7”
Occupation: student/dance
instructor
Charlie is the only woman to
be abducted by Loverboy and live to tell the tale. She’s currently enrolled at
NYU and a dance instructor at Impressions Dance Studio in NYC.
Nicholas “Nick” Andrews
Age: 25
Eyes: green
Hair: hybrid brown/blonde
Height: 6’2”
Occupation: police officer
Nick is a patrol officer with
dreams of being a detective. Being assigned a special protection detail on the
Loverboy case is what he believes will get him there.
Loverboy
Age: unknown
Eyes: unknown
Hair: unknown
Height: unknown
Occupation: a known serial
killer/rapist
Loverboy is NYC’s new serial
killer and rapist. His name is the tag name profilers gave him because they
believe his crimes are out of passion. He has never had any survivors…Until
Charlie.
Loverboy Soundtrack
1. Demons by Imagine Dragons
2. It’s Not My Time - 3 Doors
Down
3. I Wanna Be There - Blessed
Union Of Souls
4. Wake Up - Coheed &
Cambria
5. Under Pressure - David
Bowie & Queen
6. Iris - Goo Goo Dolls
7. Crawling - Linkin Park
8. Nothin’s Gonna Stop Us Now
- Jefferson Starship
9. Daugthers - John Mayer
10. Be Good To Yourself -
Journey
11. Use Somebody - Kings of
Leon
12. Torn - Natalie Imbruglia
13. You Get What You Give -
New Radicals
Loverboy playlist
Loverboy is a complete
re-write so as I was going through deleting and re-writing things I had a lot
going through my mind. My playlist varied day-to-day as I was writing, but I
think these have to be my favorites. They always set a mood for me and happen
to be some of my most favorite songs that for some reason keep my creative
juices and my foot tapping.
1. Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus
2. If You Leave by OMD
3. Why Part II by Collective
Soul
4. Should I Stay Or Should I
Go by The Clash
5. I Wanna Be Sedated by The
Ramones
6. I Want You To Want Me by
Cheap Trick
7. Starlight by Weezer
8. Buddy Holly by Weezer
9. We Want Fun by Andrew W.K.
10. Wait For Me by Theory of
a Deadman
11. A Warror’s Call by
Volbeat
12. Broken by Seether
Guest Post – Loverboy – Book Bangers
My writing process all starts with a spark in my mind. I can
see something, an object, a tree, a house. I can hear something. All it takes
is one little spark for an idea to begin. Once the idea is started I begin fleshing
out characters. Who do I feel would be best for this idea? What is their names?
How do they look? How do they act? How do they talk? I write out their
descriptions, just very basic and then I start with a plot outline. I keep the
characters basic because during the plot outline they become more real and
develop a lot more. They may make changes on me, and that’s perfectly okay.
It’s all about them becoming who they’re meant to be in the book. I even make
the outline basic. Such as “A” happens, which leads to “B” and then “C” occurs.
I keep it simple because when I actually begin writing, I never know what those
characters may change on me. I spend so much time creating them, that they do
become real and have minds of their own. While I may plan “A” leads to “B”
which then goes to “C,” my character may scream and yell, “No way, lady! “A”
will happen but “B” and “C” is never happening and I am moving to “D” and “E”
whether you like it or not.” I feel that because I do spend so much time
creating the characters and the outline that when I do go really get things written it will flow steadily for
me. At this point I’ve gotten to know the story and the character’s minds and
they lead the way for me. Getting to the actual writing part can take a while,
but I feel it’s better that way. By the time I do reach the writing point, the
characters are ready to go. =)
Instead the mind of Loverboy
The Morning After: Charlotte (Charlie's thoughts
actions the morning after the attack)
Now it's personal: Nick (at what point does finding
Loverboy become personal)
The Morning After
I wake up to a nurse thumping around the room. It’s still
dark out from what I can tell, but she’s been instructed to take my vitals. The
pain medication from some hours before has already started to wear off so it
wasn’t like I was really sleeping anyway. I was pretty much laying, curled up in
bed, staring off into the dark. I know I’m tired, my body is completely worn
down, but I can’t sleep. The nurse is at least gentle for the most part. She’s
careful with my I.V.s and she gives me that pitiful look that I am all too
familiar with by now. I manage to choke out that I am in pain again and she’s
happy to run off to retrieve some more of the pain medication. It makes my head
light and fuzzy but I have no issues happily accepting the temporary escape.
I’ve been beaten, raped and tortured for days on end. I don’t even know what
day it is and I don’t know how long he had me. That killer…that monster. It’s
hard trying to wrap my head around everything. I was beaten and raped. Where
exactly will I go from here? Is it possible to live life after this…a normal
life? What do I tell people? How do I tell them? Do I point out one of the
dozens of scars on my body and say, “See this? Yeah, a serial killer and rapist
did that to me.” Do I find sanctuary in my home and go out only when I need to?
Do I continue to live a normal life after this? Right now, all I want to do is
lay in this bed. I’m at least comfortably wrapped up in a pair of warm sweat
pants, sweat shirt and thick socks. I have the thin blankets on the bed pulled
around me. The nurse was even kind enough to bring me a warm blanket that made
a sense of comfort slip over me as she ran off for my medicine. I stare at the
door when the police officer at the door allows another lady to pass. She’s in
all white and explaining to me that I can choose something for breakfast.
Food…my God, I don’t think I know the last time that I actually ate something.
I’m pretty sure that the serial killer didn’t feed me. It’s not likely
anyway. I push my head into a
comfortable spot on my pillow as I tell her that I’m not hungry. She doesn’t
exactly buy that excuse and tells me that I have to eat something with the pain
medication that they’re giving me. All I can do is nod. I’m not sure of
anything right now, even something as simple as picking my meal for breakfast. There’s
just too much going on in my brain and right now…well, right now all I want to
do is take something to make this pain stop. The pain in my body, my brain and my heart. I don’t think I have ever hurt this
badly before. I guess right now I have to be thankful that I made it out alive
(and I am so grateful) and just take it one day at a time…put one foot in front
of the other…and never lose hope.
This or That
Men or Women or Both - Men for me
Bike or Scooter - bike
London or France - Crap…London. Mainly because my
French is rusty.
Pepsi or Coke - Coke.
Beer or Wine - Hmm…tough one…going with wine,
though.
Shoes or Flip Flops - I’m more of a stiletto kind of
woman ;) The higher the better.
Picnic or Restaurant - picnic for sure!
Beach or Hotel Room - beach
Vanilla Sex or Anal - Can’t I say both?
Twilight or Vampire Diaries - Vampire Diaries. Come
on…Ian is in VD.
Book or Ereader - a book is a book, just read ;)
Top 10
Name 10 ways you can have sex on the beach?
1. In a frosted glass while sitting on my lounge
chair…oh…not the alcoholic drink
2. Beach showers. Some are open, some are closed,
where there’s a will, there’s a way ;)
3. Against a palm tree, though I think I’ve been to
only a small handful of beaches that have actual trees on the shoreline, ha
4. In the water. Now that’s fun. Go with the motion
of the ocean.
5. In the sand on the shoreline with the waves
crashing on you.
6. If you find a rockier part, use those for some
vertical fun. All you need sometimes is a little something to brace yourself.
7. In Key West some parts of beaches had picnic
shelters…you could totally get frisky on a picnic table.
8. Of course in Key West too, some people parked in
front of the beach line and made it to the back of their car…that’s an option
too ;)
9. If you’re not shy, go at it on your beach
blankets while sun bathing. Just remember to switch every so often so neither
of you fry.
10. Under a boardwalk.
Author Interview:
2. Have you always wanted to be a writer? For as
long as I can remember I have. I did have back up plans, but luckily so far, so
good =)
3. Were any of your character's based on anyone in
your personal life? I have a few that definitely have little pieces of me in
them. Like Charlie from Loverboy.
4. If you didn't write what would you do? I wanted
to be a doctor or nurse. Someone in the medical field and helping others.
5. If you could have lunch with anyone who would it
be? Stephen King, just to pick his brain.
6. Do you have a favorite blog site that you visit
religiously? I visit so many any more it is crazy, haha. I try to keep up with
everything in the world.
7. Do you go on book tours around the world? I’m
branching out there. I have a trip planning to Maine for an author event and
looking into some other fun ones. They are all a good distance from Alaska, but
I’m sure they’ll be fun.
8. What is your favorite Ice Cream? I try to be
super healthy so I usually skip ice cream, but when I’m being naughty…Cherry
Garcia.
9. Who is your favorite actor/actress? I LOVE Dwayne
Johnson, Mark Wahlberg and Sandra Bullock.
10. If you could have anything in the world what
would it be? Is it is weird to want a best seller? Haha. I would just feel like
I accomplished something incredible. That title is earned from hard work,
amazing writing…that would make me feel accomplished. =)
Review:
Loverboy was a riveted heart wrenching story of a girl who was kidnapped by a serial killer only living to tell about it. Loveboy is full of dramatic scenes, intense conversations, a killer, a lover, and of course Charlie. As Charlie tries to remember what exactly happen to her and try's to defend her attraction to Nick her goal is to get her life back. In the process her love and Nick's love and security they are able to work together to catch the person(s) who are killing women all over. This is a 5 star read it is not your typical love story but I tell you what I couldn't put it down. I wanted to know what happen at every page.
Thank you so much for being part of this tour and for reviewing the book - Tonya
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