Tiffany King is a new to us author and I have to tell you that she’s one that will be on my auto-buy list. I loved everything about this book. From the first page to the last. I picked it up while I was cleaning out my office and three hours later I put the book down. My heart cheered, cried, was battered , cleansed and put back together reading this book.
Enjoy this sneak peek from
Misunderstandings
A Woodfalls Girls Novel
By Tiffany King
“Oh, there’s Rob,” she squealed, smoothing her hair down before dragging me off toward a dark-haired guy standing off to the side of the entryway talking to another guy who had his back to us.
“Melissa,” Rob said as he broke off his conversation and dragged Melissa into his arms for a quick hard hug.
“Rob, this in my roomie, aka college bestie, Brittni,” Melissa said, tugging my hand so I was face to face with her current crush.
“Rob, it’s nice to meet you. Melissa thinks quite highly of your poetry,” I said, holding out my hand for him to shake.
“I’m more of a hugging kind of person,” he said, ignoring my outstretched hand to pull me in. I automatically stiffened since I wasn’t much of a hugger. It must be a trait I inherited from my dad because my mom is the exact opposite. She would hug a stranger on the street. . Even Tressa and I were more the punch-in-the-arm kind of friends than hugging it out. “I’d like you to meet my friend Justin,” Rob finally said releasing me. I knew by the chuckling behind me that it was too much of a coincidence to pray that his friend was not the same Justin who had hit on me the previous week.
“I told you I’d be alone the next time we met,” the same voice drawled behind me.
I turned around to acknowledge him after flashing a glare at Melissa who looked completely mystified.
“You two know each other?” she asked, looking questioningly at Rob who looked equally confused.
“Yeah, we had the honor of meeting last week,” I answered sarcastically. “Did you leave your Playboy bunnies at the mansion, or are they fetching you a drink?” I added, making a production of looking around. I knew I was being an uber bitch. I had no idea what was wrong with me. So he was a flirt. Half the males at UW were flirts. It just rubbed me the wrong way that he had no problem flirting with me while he was with someone else.
“I told you, they’re just friends, so sheath the sword, honey,” he answered smoothly, completely unscathed by my biting tone.
“What is the matter with you?” Melissa hissed in my ear.
“Nothing,” I mumbled out of the corner of my mouth, feeling slightly abashed at my behavior.
“Well, knock it off. It’s rude to insult the artist at his first showing,” she said through gritted teeth, looking embarrassed for me.
“This is your show?” I asked unbelievingly.
“Surprised again? How could a bad boy have actually left the tattoo parlor and dropped the beer long enough to create something, right?” he quizzed, smirking at me.
“Absolutely,” I answered, smiling grudgingly at him for the first time. “Of course, I’ll reserve further judgments until I look around.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” he answered with the same smirk on his face. It was clear he was enjoying himself immensely.
“I’m sorry. That wasn’t nice of me,” I said apologetically, turning toward my friend who was studying me like I was a creature that had just crawled up from the pits of some swamp. She looked at me with an equal mixture of horror and morbid fascination. I couldn’t blame her. In the year and half that we had been roommates, I had never acted like this. Sure, I could be standoffish, but I was never stuck up. It was like I was channeling my inner Mean Girl.
Rob, on the other hand, was openly laughing.
“What’s so funny, bro?” Justin asked.
“Did you say ‘bad boy’? More like ‘dud boy,'” he said, gasping for air.
“Don’t be a douche-stick. I could totally be a bad boy,” Justin complained, socking Rob in the arm.
“Riiiiight.”
“I’m so glad I asked you here tonight to some lend moral support,” Justin said dryly.
“Dude, I’ve got your back on your art, but the bad boy status is a no-go,” Rob said, slinging an arm around Melissa’s shoulders. “So, let’s show these ladies your kickass artwork,” he added, leading Melissa into the main room of the building.
“You game?” Justin asked me, nodding his head toward the room.
“Sure, let’s see what you got,” I said, following along, but not sure what to expect. Maybe something abstract, like art created from metal or maybe beer bottles. Stepping through the doorway though, I was completely caught off guard at what I saw. The art on display in front of me stopped me in my tracks.
“What do you think?” Justin asked, turning to look back at me.
I couldn’t speak as I took in the pieces scattered throughout the room. I wasn’t even sure if “beautiful” was the right word to describe his art. It deserved a word with more impact, like “breathtaking,” even though that didn’t seem quite sufficient enough either. They literally took my breath away. He didn’t use the typical canvas to make his mark. Instead, he used huge slabs of distressed wood that were easily six feet across and five feet high. Each piece of wood was different in shape, but there was no mistaking that every one belonged to him. He didn’t do the cutesy landscapes or abstract art that left you scratching your head in confusion. I guess an ignorant person would call what he did portrait art, but to call it that was almost an insult. Each piece depicted a different face. Some were young, while others were older. There was an equal mixture of women and men of all races. Each one was beautiful beyond words. Instead of covering the wood with paint, he had used the paint to enhance the natural coloring in all the different types of woods he used. It was as if he had stamped an image on each piece.
“Insane, right?” Melissa squealed, joining me. I hushed her, not wanting to spoil the mood with mindless chatter.
“So come on. What do you think?” Justin asked earnestly as Melissa melted away into the background. I took a moment to answer as I studied the painting of the elderly woman in front of me. The attention to detail blew my mind as I took in every wrinkle and crease on her face.
“They’re amazing. You’re going to be famous,” I breathed, finally able to speak.
“Did hell just freeze over, or did you just give me a compliment?” he asked, winking at me as he reached for my hand with excitement. “There’s hope for us yet.”
“Hope? That’s an awfully strong word to use,” I said, looking down at our linked hands. “I’m not going out on a date with you, even if you’re not a typical bad boy,” I added, pulling my hand from his. I tried not to think about how warm and inviting it had felt wrapped around my fingers or whether every part of him was equally as warm.
“Give me one good reason why not,” he coaxed.
“I’ll give you two. One, you’re a terrible flirt,” I said, holding up a finger.
“Hey, I think my flirting skills are top-notch,” he interrupted, deliberately being dense.
“Exactly, you’d flirt with anything that has a pair of tits.”
“Not true. I’ve never hit on a cow,” he teased.
“Only because there aren’t a whole lot of cows walking around the Seattle area,” I pointed out.
“I think you’re exaggerating the flirting, but that’s a doable fix. What’s reason number two?”
“I don’t date smokers. Ever.”
“Again, easy fix,” he bragged.
“How so?”
“I’m not really a smoker. I enjoy an occasional cigarette, but that’s about all.”
“I don’t date people in denial who only smoke occasionally,” I stated skeptically.
“No, I’m serious. I bet I smoke a cigarette a week, if that.”
“Even one a week is a deal-breaker for me. I hate the smell and the smoke.”
“Done. I won’t smoke while we’re dating.”
“Who said anything about dating? We were talking about one date,” I squawked, wondering how he’d gained the upper hand. I wasn’t sure how I felt about his persistence.
“Fine. Go out with me once. If you hate it, no harm, no foul.”
“I can’t go out with you. I don’t even like you,” I said less convincingly than I had the last time I’d seen him.
“Sure you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here,” he said confidently. “Come on, one date.”
I studied his earnest expression for a few seconds, mentally weighing the pros and cons. “Fine, but I’m going to hate it,” I said, caving as he grinned at me.
Just when she thought things were going up…
Two years after a devastating breakup, Brittni Mitchell has moved on from Justin Avery—or so she tells herself. But when she returns to Seattle for her best friend’s engagement party, Brittni finds herself the victim of a disastrously timed elevator breakdown. She’s trapped with the last person she wants to face, and forced to recount the past she desperately wants to forget.
She’s going to have to look back…
When Brittni left her podunk hometown for a big city college experience at the University of Washington, hooking up with a guy like Justin Avery was not part of her plan. Between Justin’s attention-grabbing tattoos, cigarette smoking, and bad boy attitude Brittni quickly chalked him up as “Mr. Wrong.” But his charm was unrelenting, and Brittni’s decision to give Justin a chance quickly turned into the worst choice she ever made.
So that she might be able to move forward.
Now she’s stuck with Justin—literally—and the complicated web of misunderstandings that tied up the truth for two years is about to unravel.
USA Today Bestselling author Tiffany King is a lifelong reading fanatic who is now living her dream as a writer, weaving Young Adult and New Adult romance tales for others to enjoy. She has a loving husband and two wonderful kids. (Five, if you count her three spoiled cats). Her addictions include: Her iPhone and iPad, chocolate, Diet Coke, chocolate, Harry Potter, chocolate, zombies and her favorite TV shows. Want to know what they are? Just ask.
For information on any of Author Tiffany’s titles, visit her blog at www.authortiffanyjking.blogspot.com
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Email– authortiffany@yahoo.com.
“Dreams do come true…Dream big.”
This sounds really good! Thanks for the excerpt!
PUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRR!!