Hello Everyone! I hope all is well with you! I’ve got Kelly Martin here today and she’s talking about her new release SAINT SLOAN! Take it away Kelly!
I want to thank Lisa for having me on her blog today! I’m doing a one day blog tour to get the word out about my new book, SAINT SLOAN. It’s a YA/Inspirational/Suspense novel about a girl named Sloan and her birthday gone horrible wrong.
When Sloan Bridges is seventeen years and three hundred, sixty-four days old, her dream of having a perfect birthday is shattered. Home alone after spending the afternoon working on a sci-ence project at the new boy’s house, Sloan is brutally attacked in her kitchen by a man she can’t recognize. The only clue she has to go on is what he whispers in her ear, “You deserve this.”
The police have one suspect—Aaron Hunter, older brother of ‘the new boy’, who picked Sloan up a few nights before as she ran from a party. Adamant that he didn’t do it, Aaron begs Sloan to believe him. For her part, Sloan doesn’t know who to trust. She never saw her attacker’s face, and when she does picture it, it’s Aaron’s face she sees standing over her.
Trying to move on is impossible with a former best friend who taunts her and gives her the moniker, “Saint Sloan”, an ex-boyfriend who doesn’t understand why she changed a few months before her attack, and Aaron’s brother, Ray, who makes Sloan smile but has a side she doesn’t understand.
With her attacker ready to strike again, Sloan has to figure out who would hurt her and stop him before he finishes what he started.
Happy birthday to her…
Excerpt from SAINT SLOAN—The ‘Talk’
Since it was past eight o’clock, every red light in Chapel Hill flashed yellow. Aaron drove through two of them then gently pushed on the brakes. “Here’s your house.”
“I still can’t believe you remember all of this.”
He shrugged and flipped on his blinker. “I always liked this neighborhood.”
Straight ahead was a two-car garage covered with white siding that matched the house. When she was little, both sides of the garage were used. After her dad left, her mom’s side had the only car. That would change on Tuesday.
The garage was attached by a small covered walkway to the two-story house with a large wrap around porch along the front. Except for color and a few minor touches, most of the houses on Oak Street looked similar. All had small front yards and larger backyards. Some were fenced. Some weren’t. Sloan’s wasn’t.
“Do you still live in the same house you did before?”
“Yeah. My mom never sold it. Surprisingly,” he sounded bitter. “It was my great-grandma’s so totally paid for.”
“That’s good then. I’m glad you are getting to stick around.”
“Me, too.” His eyes caught hers and for a minute, she couldn’t look away.
She got her wits about her finally and grabbed the door handle. “Well, thanks for bringing me home.”
The cold air slammed against her, and she immediately missed the warmth of Aaron’s Mustang. With one last smile, she shut the car door and walked the stone path to the porch steps. She got her key from her pocket and placed it in the lock. An oak sign that had been on the crimson door as long as she could remember welcomed her home. With one last wave to Aaron, she walked inside and locked the door.
To her right was the living room decorated in blues and chocolate browns. At one time, the room had been a dark shade of pink. It changed the day Sloan’s dad took off with her mom’s best friend’s twenty-year old niece, Tiffani, whose favorite color was pink. Her mom became a different person, trying everything she could to ‘stay’ young. Sometimes, Sloan thought she went too far.
Sloan figured her mom would be asleep in her bedroom upstairs and didn’t want to wake her. She quietly laid her keys in the antique bowl sitting on her grandma’s cherry table in the foyer. The large silver mirror hanging over the table caught her reflection. She wrinkled her nose at the sorry sight. Her golden hair, thanks to frequent salon visits, fell wildly out of its hairband. The little braid along the side that had been so cute when she left the house barely clung to the falling out bobby pin, and her side-swept bangs were still damp from Darcy’s well-aimed beer. A much-needed shower would have to wait, though. Her stomach needed food.
Trying to figure out what to eat, she stepped down into the kitchen to her right. Unlike the living room, the kitchen décor survived ‘Tiffani-gate’. White cabinets hovered over charcoal-colored countertops. All appliances were stainless steel, and a long granite island with a white base sat in the middle of the room.
Sloan went to the fridge to see if she could scrounge up something. Neither of them had gone shopping since Thanksgiving. She was so tired of leftover turkey and dressing, and it had only been one day. Noticing that the milk had expired the day before, she resigned herself to eating a bowl of cereal without it.
She threw a bite of the sugary cereal in her mouth and looked out the window over the sink. At a little after ten, the neighborhood was dead. Cars passed sparsely, and most houses already had their lights off for the night. The street rolled up early in Chapel Hill.
Tired and ready to join her neighbors in sleep, she took her bowl and turned toward the foyer. A dark figure standing in the doorway made her scream and fumble with the bowl.
In an instant, her eyes were nearly blinded by a bright light.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” her mom said with her hand on the light switch. Sloan squinted and blinked until her eyes adjusted. When they did, she saw her mom in a fluffy purple robe and slippers. Her blonde hair, achieved the same way Sloan got hers, was gathered in a long side braid. She was a little taller and a little skinnier than Sloan. Since her father had left with Tiffani, her mom had also gotten some enhancements in other areas, though to Sloan’s knowledge her mom hadn’t dated much.
“I just wasn’t expecting you to be up. That’s all.”
“And I wasn’t expecting you home so early. Did you have a good time?”
“I guess you could call it that.” If you were a total and complete liar. She ate some cereal to keep from elaborating.
“So, who drove you home?”
Sloan stopped mid-chomp.
“I saw the Mustang in the driveway, and Mackenzie has a Honda. So… spill. Got a new feller?”
“Mom!” Sloan’s cheeks burned. “I haven’t had a ‘feller’ since Boyd. I don’t even really want a guy.”
Her mom took a seat at the end of the island. “Not all guys are like Boyd.”
“That’s a good thing,” Sloan said bitterly. Boyd had ‘loved’ her during her wild days and got mad when she wouldn’t sleep with him anymore after she got saved. He dumped her one night after a huge blow up and started dating Darcy the next day.
“Wanna talk about it? What happened at the party?”
“Who said anything happened?”
“Well, you’re home before curfew and smell like a keg.”
Sloan groaned and fell onto the barstool next to her mom. She set the bowl on the island and picked out the green cereal bites. “Same ole same ole. Darcy can’t keep her big mouth shut and appears to have really good aim.” Sloan held out a strand of her nasty hair.
Can’t wait to read more? Buy the book from any of the links below:
Thank you so much for having me here today!
~Kelly Martin is a best selling author of young adult fiction. She has two books: Grace Award nominee CROSSING THE DEEP and Amazon Best selling in Teen/Religion SAINT SLOAN. She has several short stories published and loves to write ‘twitter fiction’ when she’s bored. Kelly loves God, is addicted to chocolate, and would rather write than sleep.
You can find her on twitter (she tweets a lot): @martieKay
You can find my author page (blog tour central): at www.kellymartinstories.com