Jessica Scott's Blog, page 13
July 1, 2018
Book of the Month – AFTER THE WAR
For the last month or so, I’ve been testing out releasing a chapter of one of my backlist books every other day. Last month was UNTIL WE FALL. July’s BOOK OF THE MONTH is AFTER THE WAR – read a chapter of the first book I ever wrote every other day. Only for newsletter subscribers! […]
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December 17, 2017
Deep Story and How The Last Jedi Misses the Mark
My earliest memories involve Star Wars. I lied to my mother about having seen it so she would rent it again. When she caught me lying, she wouldn’t let me watch it. I remember drawing pictures of Jabba’s palace as a kid and wondering how Luke was going to defeat Darth Vader. When the Zahn […]
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October 29, 2017
The Best Gluten Free Flour for Everything
I tried every gluten free flour on the market. This one stands above all the rest.
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September 5, 2017
Facebook Account Shut Down
Gang, my Facebook advertising account has been shut down. So what does this mean? It means the number one way I’ve been sustaining my writing career since going indie in 2014 is gone. Unless they decide to reactivate my account, I have no other effective way to advertise my books. It means my writing […]
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February 19, 2017
Sexy New Teaser
We’re a little over a month out from Eli & Parker’s book going live. I’m getting some pretty great feedback from it so far, so here’s hoping those of you who’ve read the extended excerpt like what you’ve read! You can start reading AFTER I FALL today!Kindle: epub: Last week’s winner is Debra McCune! Share this week’s […]
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February 16, 2017
Performative Leadership
You should know your soldiers’ names and their birthdays. You should know their spouses names and anniversaries. When someone has lost a loved one, wee sign cards for coworkers we barely know, telling them our thoughts and prayers are with them. Is this genuine leadership or is this something else? And what happens when […]
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February 11, 2017
Weekly Winner & New Giveaway!
Last week’s winner: Sherry Grant! AFTER I FALL WEEKLY GIVEAWAY! After I Fall is a sexy standalone in the Falling Series ⭐️ENTER THE WEEKLY GIVEAWAY FOR A DIFFERENT PRIZE EACH WEEK!⭐️ This week’s giveaway is a 25$ iTunes Gift Certificate! ENTER HERE: https://goo.gl/forms/gzcf27HD72zQuAjF3
February 4, 2017
After I Fall Preorder Giveaway
After I Fall Weekly Giveaway I’m so excited for the release of AFTER I FALL, I decided to do a weekly giveaway each week until it comes out March 21st! You can enter by filling out the form below or by sharing the weekly posts over on Facebook. Share this week’s post! A NEW AFTER […]
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January 29, 2017
AFTER I FALL Blog Tour & Release Day Blast
The journey began 2 years ago. Continue falling with the next sexy and emotional After I Fall, from USA Today Bestselling author, Jessica Scott.
Release day blast for the next book in Jessica's best selling new adult contemporary romance! Release date 21 MARCH 2017.
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January 3, 2017
The Falling Series Continues!
After I Fall is available for preorder now! Keep reading for an exclusive sneak peek at unedited Chapter 1!Here’s the blurb:
Her entire life has been a lie. Being with Eli is the most honest thing she’s ever done.
Parker Hauser lives the perfect life and knows exactly where she’s been and where she’s going. Parker has to be perfect. Perfect grades, perfect body, perfect life.
Until she meets Eli Winter.
Eli throws her entire life into chaos when he denies her the one thing she wants from him.
One chance encounter stokes her desire for the man who refused to touch her and left her questioning everything.
When Parker tries to help his new business, the spotlight turns on Eli’s military record. And sins from the war he’s tried to forget may come back to destroy them both.
Chapter 1 Sneak Peek
Eli
People always look at me like I’ve got a dick growing out of my forehead when I tell them I miss the Army. Course, I suppose I have to consider my audience these days. I’m not bouncing at Ropers out in Harker Heights any more or dragging drunk GI’s out of that esteemed institution. No, my life at Fort Hood is long gone.
My clientele is a little more posh these days. The cars in the dirt parking lot at Ropers were F150s and Dodge Rams, complete with truck nuts and NRA stickers. Now the cars valet parked in a lot around the corner and out of sight are Mercedes and BMWs with the occasional McLaren thrown in.
It’s about as far from Fort Hood as I can possibly get, at least culturally. You wouldn’t think I was still even in the south with how different things are here.
I suppose there are worse problems to have than dealing with rich dicks who buy the top shelf liquor and run up five hundred dollar tabs in a few hours worth of drinking.
They keep my business in the black so I don’t really have any reason to complain.
I don’t talk about the Army much. Not with my customers. Every so often someone will notice the 82d AA tattoo on my bicep but most people don’t bother to look closely enough.
People see what they want to see.
And in a college town, they see a big guy with a beard and tattoos and, well, I fit right in to their schemas about bartenders and hipsters and a couple of other stereotypes.
But sometimes, sometimes I miss it.
Tonight is one of those nights. I’ve got inventories to run and paperwork to file that, if I want to keep this place open, I’ll get to sooner rather than later. But instead, I’m standing behind my bar, trying to chase away the memories. Trying to forget what tonight is.
Wishing that it wasn’t. Wishing that I could change everything.
I pour a double shot of tequila. In the quiet din of the corner of my bar, I raise it. Just a little. I don’t want to draw attention to my small tribute.
“Until we meet again, on the Fiddler’s Green.” My words are quiet. Meant only for me to hear.
I toss back the shot and close my eyes, trying not to see, trying to ignore it. Hoping to numb the dull ache in my chest that never seems to go away. It’s just some days, I’m busy enough to pretend it’s not there.
I can’t take a knee. I might not be in the Army any more but I can’t just leave.
I have to keep going. This is my place.
“What’s the Fiddler’s Green?”
I open my eyes to find that I am suddenly very much not alone in my own little world.
There is nothing stunning about the woman watching me. She looks like every other sorority girl in this damn town. Perfect golden hair, perfect lips in the perfect glossy pout, perfect body that’s tight enough to make a blind man weep.
She’s got trouble written in every curve attempting to break free of her clothing.
But there’s something in her eyes that catches my attention. It’s not curiosity, exactly. It’s something more. Something…different. At least a little bit.
Which is saying something.
There are thousand and one reasons why I shouldn’t answer her question.
I have a rule about fucking the customers, especially ones who look like trouble. Granted, it’s a recent rule but it’s still a rule.
My bartenders can do what they want. They’re grown ass adults and one of the perks of owning a bar is getting laid any time they want.
But lately…lately it’s just not fun any more.
And it’s not for lack of opportunity.
I study Trouble for a moment, weighing whether to answer her question or not. My cock is definitely interested in answering her question. He’s not really a fan of my new rule.
But my heart and my head have different ideas. Ones that start and end with oh hell no. She might be slumming in my bar tonight but she’s definitely not my type.
She turns her head to look over her shoulder and that’s when I see it. The shadows circling her left eye. She’s tried to hide the damage but she’s not doing a very good job. Or maybe she is and I just can’t miss these things.
I’m like a magnet for the walking fucking wounded.
“Where’d you get the shiner?”
I can’t help myself but I can’t turn away when someone is hurting. It’s been ingrained in my DNA since I was eighteen years old.
Even a complete stranger.
I’m going to regret this. That much I’m sure. But the question is already hanging in the air between us and I can see the surprise flicker in her eyes.
She shifts a little then, leaning against the bar. The motion pushes her breasts up against the scoop of her low cut blouse and I’d have to be a dead man to not react to that much perfection in a tiny little top.
“That’s a long story,” she says. Her voice is thick and low. Sultry. Perfect for a late night rendezvous in a bar. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours?”
I shake my head slowly. “Sorry. Some stories aren’t meant for telling.”
I’m not a eunuch and I’m damn sure not a warrior saint but it’s been a long time since someone at my bar caught my attention.
Her eyes flicker with disappointment then drop down to my beard, then down my arms and slowly, slowly back up, her gaze licking my senses as much as if she were actually touching me. Slowly. I’ve been mentally undressed before but there is something completely erotic in the way she’s eye fucking me.
And the more she watches me, the more I realize I am in just the right frame of mind to let her do what she wants.
Because tonight, I don’t want to remember my rules or my fucking honor or my purpose for being here. I want to get lost in sensation and touch and hot gasps and tight, wet bodies. Forget the hurt, forget the loss, forget every dark nightmare and twisted day dream.
What better way to forget then to lose myself in mindless sex for an hour or two?
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The Falling Series
