Tuesday, July 1, 2014

Stay by Emily Goodwin Book Blitz

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“I felt like I was walking to the end of a plank precariously hanging over shark-infested water. When I jumped, sharp teeth would rip into me and the cold water would steal my breath away. The monsters would take everything from me, leaving me shivering and naked in the water. The only difference was that tonight I would be pulled from the icy darkness and forced to do it again. There would be no release from death, only pain.”

Home after her first year of college, Adeline Miller is looking forward to a stress free summer filled with reading, working on her blog, and spending time with friends. But all that changes in an instant when she is witness to something terrible, something she wasn't supposed to see.

Beaten, drugged, kidnapped.

Adeline Miller is ripped from her innocent and carefree life and thrust into darkness, into a world full of pain and horror. As a sex slave, she is forced to do horrible things, and have horrible things done to her. One of her captors has a past as dark as the world she is now living in. Will getting close to him mean freedom? Or will he pull her deeper into the shadows? GOODREADS | AMAZON      
©2014 by Emily Goodwin
Excerpt Three
I slowly blinked and shook myself. I turned the water off and pulled back the curtain just far enough to grab the towel. I wrapped it around my goosebump-covered torso and walked back to my cot, water dripping on the floor. Dirt and grit stuck to my wet feet. Normally, that would have grossed me out, but what was a little dirt compared to what was going to happen to me? Phoebe and Lily exchanged sorrowful looks. Phoebe came up behind me and gently towel dried my hair. I just sat there, completely still except for the shivering. “Here,” Lily offered and held out a robe. Holding the towel up with one hand, I snaked my arms through the crushed velvet robe and tied it around myself. "I don't get your tattoos," she said and tipped her head. "Theban," I simplified and looked at the squiggly characters that surrounded a triple moon symbol my left shoulder blade. "It's an old alphabet. It’s from a book." "Oh." Lily nodded. "What about that one? It's a circle inside a triangle with a line through it?" "From another book," I summed up, looking at the tattoo on my wrist. I had one more tattoo on my left side. I parted the robe to show her. "Get this one?" "Nope. 'To infinity'," she read. "Don't get it." "'And beyond'," Phoebe finished. "I like Toy Story. Who has other half?" "My best friend, Lynn," I told her, my voice hollow. "You must miss her," Lily said quietly. I bit my lip and nodded. Lily looked at me for a few seconds, her blue eyes flashing with emotions. She closed them, shook her head, and put on a small smile. “Rochelle will do your makeup,” she said. I nodded and rose from the cot and made my way over to the makeshift vanity. Rochelle was leaning on the counter, keeping the weight off of her injured ankle. I sat on a rickety stool and faced the mirror. It was the first time I had allowed myself to look at my face since I’d been taken. I had bruises on my face from being hit by Nate and Zane. My right eye was swollen a little on the outside. I knew I had bruises on my body, both from being beaten and from the trunk ride to wherever the hell we were. “You have nice skin,” Rochelle told me. “It’ll be easy to work with.” She said it in such a way that it wasn’t a compliment. Before she started on my makeup, she brushed and blow dried my hair and set it in curlers. Then she spun me around so that I couldn’t see in the mirror anymore. I flinched from the cold liquid foundation she smeared over my cheeks. If I had such nice skin, why did she feel the need to cover it all up? I rarely wore makeup at home. If I did, I focused mainly on my eyes, having fun playing with different colors of eye shadow and liners. I hated the way foundation felt caked onto my face. “There,” she said, sounding satisfied. She had been working on me for what had to be at least half an hour. She took the curlers out of my hair, and after a while of fluffing and spraying enough hair spray to eat away a layer of the O-zone, she leaned back and pressed a smile, nodding as she admired her work. I turned and looked in the mirror. My eyes were heavily outlined in silver and black. The bruises were gone, though my right eye still looked tender. Red blush on my cheeks made it look like I was permanently embarrassed, and the dark red lipstick was just … trashy. My hair was teased and was inches away from my head. It was coated in so much hair spray that it barely moved with me. Big, wavy curls cascaded around my face. Suddenly, a smile cracked my face, and a snort of laughter escaped my lips. “What?” Rochelle demanded. I shook my head, the humor in my grossly stereotyped appearance quickly fading. Rochelle glared at me for a moment longer before waving me away. She hobbled to the rack of clothing and skimmed through the section of lingerie. She pulled a short, silky nightgown from its hanger. It was dark purple, with black lace outlining the top and bottom. My stomach churned when my fingers touched the shiny material. “You’ll need this,” she mumbled and tossed me a push-up bra. “Your boobs are on the small side.” She shook her head and sighed. “Whatever. I’ll make it work. You should gain some weight.” I held my arms close to my body, feeling very self-conscious. I was thin due to an over-active thyroid. Over the years, I had tried different medications but was unable to find something with a good balance so I just stopped taking the pills. I always had eaten more than enough, but I just couldn’t keep the weight on. It had been one of my number one pet peeves to be told I was lucky I was thin. I had a medical condition that took a toll on my body and my health. How lucky is that? “Tonight you have Travis,” Rochelle began explaining. “Give him a good show. He likes to watch.” My stomach clenched and the sting of sour vomit bubbled in my throat. I felt like my head was being shoved into a bucket of dirty water, and no matter how hard I struggled, I couldn’t get out, couldn’t take a breath. “I don’t know any good shows,” I mumbled. “What?” Rochelle asked and wrinkled her nose. “Well, you do now,” she went on, widening her eyes and giving me the girl-you’re-crazy stare. She shook her head and sighed. “Just follow his lead, do what he wants, and you’ll be fine.” Nerves audibly grumbled through my intestines. I feared something was going to come out one end or the other. Yet I just stood there, my mind wanting to shut down and refuse to process what was going to happen. There was no way around it. I was going to go upstairs. I was going to go into a room with a sick and twisted man who would force me to have sex with him. Or I could refuse. And that would get me severely beaten, if not killed. For a few seconds, dying seemed better than getting raped. I shook my head at the thought. I wasn’t going to give up. Today might not be my day for escaping, but it would come. It had to. Photo of young beautiful lady with magnificent dark hair, autumn toned  

About the Author:

Emily Goodwin  
Emily resides in Indiana with her husband,ferrets,horses, and their beloved dog, a German Shepherd named Vader. Emily has a degree in psychology, likes anything paranormal, listens to too much 80's rock and loves going on crazy adventures with her friends.
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