Romance Promo Central is happy to welcome Lia Fairchild to the blog. She’s here to share about her book, Circle in the Sand. If this book sounds like something you would be interested in reading, please find some buy links below and pick up a copy or two!
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Four Friends. Four Different Paths. One Unwavering Friendship.
Two decades of love, laughter, promises, and secrets hold together four friends pursuing different paths in life.
Jax always lived on the edge, skating through life with no apparent ambition, yet remained the energy and emotional cement of the group. She longs to be accepted.
Sage, career-driven, has always followed a carefully laid out plan for her future. But one look at the sexy ex-con staying on her friend’s sofa has her questioning everything.
Emily, the college drop-out, has three children that are her whole life. She’s slowly lost herself, subconsciously seeking dangerous ways to cope.
Ned yearns to stand up and be counted. But his new feelings for one of the girls has him pulled in different directions.
These four friends will test the ties that have held them together for so long, and in the process unveil truths about themselves they never knew existed.
Circle in the Sand is available from:
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Bestselling author, Lia Fairchild, is both a traditionally published and independent author who writes women’s fiction, romance, and chick lit. Fans of her books praise her endearing, real characters who come to life in stories that will touch your heart.
Fairchild is addicted to the warmth of Southern California and holds a bachelor’s degree in journalism and a multiple-subject teaching credential. She is a wife and mother of two teenagers.
Lia can be found:
I’m sitting at a rickety, wrought-iron table sprinkled with white bird shit, staring across at an ex-con and seriously fantasizing about him fertilizing my frozen eggs. Yep, this is exactly how I’d pictured my future when a twelve-year-old me visited the New York Stock Exchange for the first time.Excerpt:
Travis and I are on the patio at Juan’s, me with a large cup of black tar, him scarfing down a taco plate. He insisted on paying. He offers me a bite. I shake my head, and he continues eating. I watch his forearms and strong hands as he moves them around his space, wondering about all the beautiful things they’ve created before this new life of his took over. I examine his dark eyes, which don’t seem to be as sad as that first day we met. But they don’t hold the eagerness I’m used to seeing in men that look at me. I’m still trying to acclimate to this flirtationship that we’ve developed. Not quite dating, but something more than friends.
About two weeks ago I’d come to San Diego to meet with my new client. On the way home, my car took control and steered me right over to Jax’s house. I told myself it was probably best to clear the air with her, talk things over, and if Travis happened to be there, well, I’d just smile and say hi. Turned out Jax was at work. Travis answered the door, hair slightly damp, barefoot, wearing jeans, and again his shirt was AWOL. The cool breeze caused a chill on my skin. His face, dusted with black stubble, made my fingertips tingle. He didn’t invite me in after my reason for visiting was voided. Did I want to leave a message for Jax? Yeah, tell her the guy sleeping on her couch is an idiot.
“I’ll call her later,” I said then lingered a moment. That’s usually all it takes, but I could see he wasn’t biting. “I was going to grab some coffee before I head back, want to join me?” The words tasted awkward in my mouth. I wondered how they sounded to him. Please, sir, may I have another? He stared at me for a second, then shook his head. I hoped my face didn’t look as red as it felt. Suddenly I was hot, but not with embarrassment. Anger flushed over me. Not only had this guy turned me into the pursuer, but he’d stuffed me into self-realization mode, and I hate that. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying being pursued!
“You seem like a nice lady…”
Lady? What was I, seventy? I attempted to prepare myself for the brush off, but I wasn’t quite sure how.
Travis grabbed the side of the door with one hand. “Let me lay this all out on the line for you. I’m on probation for driving under the influence.” I folded my arms, attempting to look unaffected even though it had shocked me. “My car hopped a curb and ran into a nineteen-year-old sign spinner dressed as Freddy Krueger for the local Halloween store.” My mouth fell open, and I quickly closed it as he continued. “He had his back turned, didn’t even see us coming. He’s fine—only a few cuts and bruises—but he was knocked out. It could have been worse, so much worse, but does that really matter?”
Was I supposed to answer that question? I opened my mouth again, hoping something would come out on its own.
“I got credit for time served, have to do community service, got my license taken away; shall I continue?”
I cocked my head. “There’s more?”
“I’m doing you a favor. Don’t let your tidy little life get mixed up in this mess.”
Now he’d pissed me off, treating me as if I didn’t have a brain of my own. “Are you always such an ass when you’re doing people favors?”
“It would seem so.”
“Why is it okay for Jax to be nice to you and help you but not me?”
“Oh, because she’s caring and generous and I’m a trust-funding snob? Whatever, screw this, I’m out of here.”
I flipped a fast one-eighty, then strode briskly back to my car parked at the curb. My biggest fear being an ankle giving way in my heels, and not the guy on a bike who whizzed by me as I stepped off the curb. “Crap!” I halted in place, drew my arms instinctively to my face. The guy swerved around me but an oncoming car caused him to swerve back, overcorrecting right toward my car. His beach-cruiser handle bars clipped my side view mirror. I heard him say, “Shit,” yet he kept going. I stood in the street watching him pedal away, getting smaller as he cruised down the street. This is what happens when you park on a freaking public street! When I turned to check the mirror, I found Travis standing next to me.
“Are you okay?” His hand on my arm made me jump. He pulled it away in reaction, chose to examine the mirror instead. “It was probably already a little loose,” he said handling the wobbly metal edge. “I can fix it.” Without a glance my way, he walked past, heading back to the house. “Wait on the porch,” he shouted back.
I was in no position to argue at that point, so I did as I was told and flopped down on the porch swing, somewhat pouty, and stared up at the cloudy sky. Travis disappeared into the house, came out a moment later wearing a shirt—I guess he does own one—holding a sweatshirt and a tool box.
“In case you’re cold,” he said, tossing it to me. He certainly was a polite ass.
I didn’t move when I saw he was done. He joined me on the swing, setting the toolbox on the porch. We both faced forward.
“Sorry,” he said to the street.
“Thank you,” I answered to the grass. “For the mirror, I mean.”
We were quiet for a long time. I had no idea what he was thinking about, then something struck me. “You said ‘us.’”
He turned his body to me. I noted a fresh scent that I guessed was his hair. “What?”
“The sign spinner. You said, ‘didn’t even see us coming.’ Who was in the car with you?”
What appeared to be a cocktail of reluctance, anger, and embarrassment entered his eyes and poured over his face before he answered. “That would be my ex-fiancé. I don’t want to talk about her. But all that shit I told you about me…it’s all true. And there’s more.”