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Sunday, June 23, 2013

One Tiny Lie Blog Tour and Giveaway!!



Livie has always been the stable one of the two Cleary sisters, handling her parents' tragic death and Kacey's self-destructive phase with strength and maturity. But underneath that exterior is a little girl hanging onto the last words her father ever spoke to her. “Make me proud,” he had said. She promised she would...and she’s done her best over the past seven years with every choice, with every word, with every action.

Livie walks into Princeton with a solid plan, and she’s dead set on delivering on it: Rock her classes, set herself up for medical school, and meet a good, respectable guy that she’s going to someday marry. What isn’t part of her plan are Jell-O shots, a lovable, party animal roommate she can’t say ‘no’ to, and Ashton, the gorgeous captain of the men’s rowing team.

Definitely him. He’s an arrogant ass who makes Livie’s usually non-existent temper flare and everything she doesn’t want in a guy. Worse, he’s best friends and roommates with Connor, who happens to fits Livie’s criteria perfectly. So why does she keep thinking about Ashton?

As Livie finds herself facing mediocre grades, career aspirations she no longer thinks she can handle, and feelings for Ashton that she shouldn't have, she’s forced to let go of her last promise to her father and, with it, the only identity that she knows.


Excerpt!!
Mediocre
C minus.
I blink several times, holding it closer to make sure I’m not hallucinating.
I’m not. It’s still there, at the top of my chemistry midterm, in all its ugly red glory.
My first college midterm mark and it’s almost a D. I’ve never had anything but an A.
Ever.
I swallow once, twice, three times as nausea fills my body and blood rushes to my ears, my heart beating off-kilter. Maybe I’m not cut out for Princeton. I know I didn’t study as hard as I should have, with all the distraction. My father was right. Boys do suck the brains out of smart girls. Either that or I’ve killed all my smart brain cells with drinking. All that’s left are the stupid ones that like to giggle and get felt up—okay, down—in cars.
I rush out the door, past the other exiting students, my legs moving as fast as they can without outright running. Bursting out and into the cool drizzle, I force myself to slow down as a pain twinges in my ankle. I’ll reinjure it if I’m not careful.
Without fail, my phone rings. Connor always phones me after this class because he’s getting out of his. I don’t want to answer it, but I do anyway.
“Hey, babe. What’s wrong?”
“I failed my chemistry midterm!” I fight to keep the tears welling in my eyes at bay. I don’t want to bawl out here, in the middle of everyone.
“Seriously? You failed?” There’s no mistaking the shock in his tone.
“Well . . . almost!” I sputter, my breath ragged.
“Okay. Slow down, Livie,” Connor says in a composed voice. “Tell me what happened.”
A take a few deep, calming breaths before I whisper, “I got a C minus.”
Connor heaves a huge sigh. “You had me concerned there, Livie! Don’t worry! I had a few mediocre grades in my first year. It’s nothing.”
I grit my teeth. It’s not nothing! I want to scream. It’s my first bad grade. Ever. And it’s in one of my best subjects! By the tightness in my chest, I’m beginning to suspect that I’m having a mild coronary at the age of eighteen.
“You’ll do better next time, Livie. You’re smart.”
Sucking my bottom lip, I nod into the phone. “Yeah, okay.”
“Feel better?”
No. “Sure. Thanks, Connor.”
“Okay, good.” The phone muffles and I hear Connor shouting to someone on his end. “Need a ride? Yeah…” Coming back to me, he says, “I’ve got to go. We have an extra practice today. Coach threatened anyone who’s late with a ten-mile run in the rain.”
“Okay.”
“Talk to you later, Liv.” The phone clicks.
I do not feel better. Not at all. In fact, I somehow feel worse.
I head back to my dorm room with my head down, fighting the tears as the lump in my throat grows. Connor has that automatic confidence in me—like everyone else does. Doesn’t he understand that this almost-D is a big deal for me? What if I can’t do better? What if this is the beginning of the end?
By the time I make it to my room, I don’t care who sees my tearstained face. I know I could call Dr. Stayner, but he’ll make this about my parents and I don’t want to hear his autopilot theories today. I should call Kacey, but . . . I can’t. After all she did to help get me here, I don’t want to disappoint her.
So I rely on the only thing that I can right now—Reagan’s fresh tub of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Therapy ice cream in the freezer compartment of our mini fridge. My pity party is complete once I change into my pajamas, pull my hair back, and crawl under my covers to stare at the wretched paper lying on the floor. I consider setting it on fire, but I’ve heard that the smoke alarms are super-sensitive.
There are two more tubs waiting for me when this is done. I’ve decided I’m going to eat myself to death. I’m halfway through the first tub within five minutes—Reagan’s going to kill me—when someone knocks on my door.
I ignore it. Anyone I might want to talk to is at rowing practice. I almost shout, “Go away!” but then the person will know I’m here. So I keep quiet by licking the tablespoon in my hand. The knocking doesn’t stop, though. It keeps going and going and going until I’m sure that Dr. Stayner is outside, delivering on his committal promise early.
With a groan, I roll out of bed and stagger over, spoon in mouth and tub in hand, to throw the door open.
It’s Ashton.
My mouth falls opens and my spoon flies out. He’s got fast reflexes, though, and manages to catch it before it hits the ground.
“What are you doing here?” I note his track pants and shirt. He’s supposed to be at practice.
Stepping around me and into my room, he murmurs with a meaningful look at the tub in my hand, “Keeping you from gaining your frosh fifteen.”
I close the door behind me. “Don’t you have practice?”
“Yeah. What are you doing?”
Dragging my feet back toward my bed, I mumble, “I’m eating ice cream in my pajamas in bed. In the dark. Clearly.”
Ashton walks over to turn a small desk lamp on, casting a soft, cozy glow to the room. “Connor said you were freaking out about your midterm?”
His words bring me back to reality and my bottom lip begins to wobble. I can’t even bring myself to say it. So I simply point at the thing on the floor and let the hideous letter speak for itself.
He leans down to pick it up and my breath hitches, staring blatantly at his ass. I don’t care if he catches me doing it. I may as well add “pervert” underneath “failure” on the list of things that define me.

My Review


Perfection!

One Tiny Lie was a fantastic read! I've noticed that the books resemble the main characters. Ten Tiny Breaths was a whirlwind of emotions and in your face drama just like Kacey, while One Tiny Lie is a bit subdued in the drama department it is very smart and snarky with a lot of inner angst! I absolutely love Tucker's writing, I would say that you get lost in it, but I feel that's not right, you want to runaway in it and never come back. I love everything about the book!



While I am not a big fan of triangles, I love the tension between Livie and Ashton. I feel terrible that Conner was used, and was apparently a studmuffin. But when the tension breaks between Ashton and Livie..



While Livie and Ashton seem to connect on a physical and emotional level, there's still something keeping them apart. That One Tiny Lie that could break both of them!

This book will make you swoon, scream, and then cry a bit. But it's totally worth it in the end. I really didn't want to stop reading the story. :( I highly recommend this book!

Favorite Swoonworthy Quotes

"Because you're not a one-night girl, Irish." Leaning in to place a kiss on my jawline, he whispers, "You're my forever girl."


"Irish, if there's one thing I've never been able to forget, it's a single second with you."





Giveaway!!


Author Bio:

Born in small-town Ontario, Kathleen published her first book at the age of six with the help of her elementary school librarian and a box of crayons. She is a voracious reader and the farthest thing from a genre-snob, loving everything from High Fantasy to Chick Lit. Kathleen currently resides in a quaint small town outside of Toronto with her husband, two beautiful girls, and an exhausting brood of four-legged creatures.






Links:




1 comment:

Tricia Santos said...

Ahhh I want a signed copy so bad! I feel really connected to Livie and I'm in love with Ashton. They are perfect together

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