· Title: Making Faces
· Author: Amy Harmon
· Genre: New Adult Contemporary Romance
· Expected Release Date: October 20, 2013
· Cover Design: Carly Stevens | http://carlystevens.com/
· Cover Reveal Organized By: Cristina’s Book Reviews and Vilma’s Book Blog
· Author: Amy Harmon
· Genre: New Adult Contemporary Romance
· Expected Release Date: October 20, 2013
· Cover Design: Carly Stevens | http://carlystevens.com/
· Cover Reveal Organized By: Cristina’s Book Reviews and Vilma’s Book Blog
Synopsis:
Ambrose Young was beautiful. He was tall and muscular, with hair that touched his shoulders and eyes that burned right through you. The kind of beautiful that graced the covers of romance novels, and Fern Taylor would know. She'd been reading them since she was thirteen. But maybe because he was so beautiful he was never someone Fern thought she could have...until he wasn't beautiful anymore.
Making Faces is the story of a small town where five young men go off to war, and only one comes back. It is the story of loss. Collective loss, individual loss, loss of beauty, loss of life, loss of identity. It is the tale of one girl's love for a broken boy, and a wounded warrior's love for an unremarkable girl. This is a story of friendship that overcomes heartache, heroism that defies the common definitions, and a modern tale of Beauty and the Beast, where we discover that there is a little beauty and a little beast in all of us.
About The Author:
Amy Harmon has been a motivational speaker, a grade school teacher, a junior high teacher, a home school mom, and a member of the Grammy Award winning Saints Unified Voices Choir, directed by Gladys Knight.
She released a Christian Blues CD in 2007 called "What I Know" - also available on Amazon and wherever digital music is sold. She has written five novels, Running Barefoot, Slow Dance in Purgatory, Prom Night in Purgatory, the New York Times Bestseller, A Different Blue and coming October 20, Making Faces.
Excerpt:
He didn't know how to
make her understand that she was so much more than just pretty. So he
leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers. Very carefully. Not
like the other night when he'd been scared and impulsive, and smacked her head
against the wall in his attempt to kiss her. He kissed her now to tell
her how he felt. He pulled away almost immediately, not giving himself a
chance to linger and lose his head. He wanted to show her he valued her, not
that he wanted to rip her clothes off. And he wasn't sure when it came
right down to it that she wanted to be kissed by an ugly SOB. She was the
kind of girl that would kiss him because she didn't want to hurt his
feelings. The thought filled him with despair.
She let out a frustrated sigh and sat up, running her hands through her
hair. It flowed through her fingers and down her back, and he wished he
could bury his own hands in it, bury his face in the heavy locks and breathe
her in. But he'd obviously upset her.
“I'm sorry, Fern. I shouldn't have done that.”
“Why?” she snapped, startling him enough that he winced. “Why are you sorry?”
“Because you're upset.”
“I'm upset because you
pulled away! You're so careful. And it's frustrating!”
Ambrose was taken back by her honesty, and he smiled, instantly
flattered. But the smile faded as he tried to explain himself.
"You're so small, Fern. Delicate. And all of this is new to you. I'm
afraid I'm going to come on too strong. And if I break you or hurt you, I won't
survive that, Fern. I won't survive it." That thought was
worse than walking away from her and he shuddered inwardly. He wouldn't
survive it. He had already hurt too many. Lost too many.
Fern knelt in front of him, and her chin wobbled and her eyes were wide with
emotion. Her voice was adamant as she held his face between her hands, and when
he tried to pull away so she wouldn't feel his scars, she hung on, forcing his
gaze.
"Ambrose Young! I have waited my whole life for you to want me. If
you don't hold me tight I won't believe you mean it, and that's worse than
never being held at all. You better make me believe you mean it, Ambrose,
or you will most definitely break me."
“I don't want to hurt you, Fern,” he whispered
hoarsely.
“Then don't,” she whispered back, trusting him. But there were lots of ways to
cause pain. And Ambrose knew he was capable of hurting her in a thousand ways.
Ambrose stopped trying to pull his face away, surrendering to the way it felt
to be touched. He hadn't allowed anyone to touch him for a long time. Her
hands were small, like the rest of her, but the emotions they stirred in him
were enormous, gigantic, all-consuming. She made him shake, made him quake
inside, vibrate like the tracks under an on-coming train.
Her hands left his face and traveled down the sides of his neck. One side
smooth, the other riddled with divots and scars and rippled where the skin had
been damaged. She didn't pull away, but felt each mark, memorized each
wound. And then she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his neck, just
below his jaw. And then again on the other side, on the side that bore no
scars, letting him know that the kiss wasn't about sympathy but desire. It was
a caress. And his control broke.