Hardcover, 400 pages
Expected publication: January 30th 2018
by Harlequin Teen
Elle knows she lives a life of privilege. As the governor's daughter, she can open doors with her name alone. But the expectations and pressure to be someone she isn't may be too much to handle. She wants to follow her own path, whatever that means.
When Drix and Elle meet, their connection is immediate, but so are their problems. Drix is not the type of boy Elle's parents have in mind for her, and Elle is not the kind of girl who can understand Drix's messy life.
But sometimes love can breach all barriers.
Fighting against a society that can't imagine them together, Drix and Elle must push themselves--Drix to confront the truth of the robbery, and Elle to assert her independence--and each other to finally get what they deserve.
Excerpt
“I say too much, I
push her away and into his arms,” Axle says.
I’m the living proof
of this. I got into it with Holiday over this jerk before I was arrested, and
the entire situation exploded in my face.
“I keep quiet, it’s
like I’m the one auctioning off her soul. No one handed me a playbook on
raising a teenager when Holiday’s grandmother signed custody over to me.
Holiday didn’t have rules before. In my house, she does. The rest of it I’m
playing by ear.”
I glance at my older
brother out of the corner of my eye, waiting for him to explain that’s how he
felt about me before I was arrested. Except, I wasn’t falling into the wrong
person’s arms. I was the asshole parents hated.
“But you’re back,”
Axle continues, “and you can help keep an eye on her. Moving her in full-time
means I can finally set some boundaries. Rules. At least limit her time with
him.”
“Think she’ll
listen?” I ask. “To the rules?”
“She may not listen
when it comes to Jeremy, but she listens to everything else.”
Translation—Holiday’s
not me. “Are you laying down rules for me?”
Axle snorts. “Do you
need them?”
Probably, but I only
lift my fingers as a response.
“How about you don’t
screw up again.”
“Got it.” At least I
hope I do.
“What’s up, Axle.
Drix.” A friend of mine from when I used to play gigs at local clubs offers
Axle his hand and me a nod. The two of them exchange how are you’s and fine’s.
I alternate between watching the flames of the fire licking up and glancing at
them as they talk.
My older brother is
now my court-appointed guardian. I did too many stupid things while living with
Mom, and Dad’s not reliable. Axle is nine years older than me, has a decent job
and inherited all the recessive responsible genes neither Mom nor Dad
possessed.
Axle and I favor Dad.
Dirty blond hair, dark eyes, and we both used to be hard-core metal boys. I
guess we still are when it comes to music, but not so much with style anymore.
He has the tats up and down his arms, and earrings in his ears. Earrings and
tats were never my thing, and I used to wear my hair to my shoulders where Axle
has always kept his shaved close to the scalp.
First thing that
happened when I entered juvenile detention was a shaved head. While mine’s not
shaved anymore, it is cut close on the sides, has some length on top and
naturally sticks up like I styled it on purpose. As Holiday told me when I
walked in, I got the good boy cut with the bad boy stride.
Our friend leaves
with a fist bump to Axle and a pat on the back to me. Way to go, bro. You
survived time on the inside and then time on the outside in a forest.
“It’s weird not
hearing you jump into a conversation,” Axle says.
It’s weird not being
in the thick of things. Not being the one telling the story, sharing the joke,
or the one in the crowd laughing the loudest. I used to be the guy who drank to
get drunk, threw a punch, then threw too many punches, and then dealt with the
guilt in the morning.
Thanks to one year of
group therapy, I’m different now. Seven months of that therapy was while I was
living behind bars, then the other three months of therapy was in the wilderness.
Three months of hiking, three months of paddling along forgotten rivers, three
months of climbing up and down mountains, three months of being too damned
exhausted to remember who I had been before they handed me a backpack that
weighed fifty pounds and too damned exhausted to even contemplate if that was a
bad or good thing.
As much as I hated
parts of who I had become after I went to live with Mom at fifteen, there were
parts of me I liked. Don’t mind so much losing the bad, but there’s an
uncomfortable shifting inside me at the thought that I also lost the good.
“How does this play
out?” Axle asks. “How do I make this better for you? Easier?”
Axle isn’t talking
about the party; he’s talking about living here with him and Holiday. He’s
talking about how I readjust to parts of my old life and adjust into the new
life the plea bargain has created. He’s talking about the thing we never
mention aloud after the night I was arrested.
That we both think someone
we know and love is the one who really committed the crime.
We both think it was
Holiday working with Dominic or Dominic on his own, but neither of them could
have survived being behind bars. I’m tough. I could handle the fallout, and all
that mattered to me was that my family believed I was innocent. They did, but
the police didn’t, and they had a crap load of evidence that pointed in my
direction. This is where Axle would say he’s thankful for plea bargains.
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Katie was a teenager during the age of grunge and boy bands and remembers those years as the best and worst of her life.
She is a lover of music, happy endings, reality television, and is a secret University of Kentucky basketball fan.
She is the author of the Pushing the Limits and Thunder Road series.
Say You’ll Remember Me will be released in 2018. Katie loves to hear from her readers.
She is a lover of music, happy endings, reality television, and is a secret University of Kentucky basketball fan.
She is the author of the Pushing the Limits and Thunder Road series.
Say You’ll Remember Me will be released in 2018. Katie loves to hear from her readers.
Connect with Katie
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads
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