Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Revenge Bound (Tattoo Thief #3) by Heidi Joy Tretheway: Blog Tour Excerpt & Giveaway


On the Internet, secrets never die…

Violet can’t imagine anything worse than having her very private, very naked photos strewn across the Internet.

Until they multiply like a virus.

With her name, address, and phone number attached.

And her boss finds out. And a stalker finds her.

Violet’s refuge is a rock star known for going through groupies faster than guitar picks. Letting Jayce get close enough to protect her exposes her secrets—and her heart—to a man whose celebrity could ruin her.

That’s because being a nobody is the one thing that keeps Violet’s photos from making headlines. And it’s the reason she can never fall for a rock star.

Secrets spread like wildfire when a celebrity fans the flames.

REVENGE BOUND is a full-length, standalone novel, and a companion to the Tattoo Thief books. It contains steamy scenes and strong language intended for mature readers.

Click to Buy the Tattoo Thief Series on Amazon:

About the Author:

Heidi Joy lives in Happy Valley off Sunnyside Road. She swears she did not make that up.

Heidi’s obsessed with storytelling. Her career includes marketing, journalism, and a delicious few years as a food columnist. Media passes took her backstage with several rock bands, where she learned that sometimes a wardrobe malfunction is exactly what the rock star intends.

You’ll most often find Heidi Joy with her husband and two small kids cooking, fishing, exploring the Northwest, and building epic forts in their living room.

She loves to hear from readers via messages at facebook.com/author.heidi.

Social Media Links:

 photo facebook_128.png photo twitter_128.png photo goodreads_128.png  photo BlogIcon.png


After Violet got a series of threatening texts from a stalker, Jayce replaced Violet’s phone. But he keeps monitoring her old phone, because the texts suggest the stalker is growing closer to Violet.

I slam down the rest of my beer and peek at one new message on Violet’s old phone, feeling like a bit of a creeper myself for invading her space. I want to protect her from the stalker shit, but she’d want to know if a friend sent a message, right?

When I touched your skin for the first time today, Violet, it was like silk. Now I want your skin on my tongue and between my teeth.

The text makes me bolt from the couch like a hot poker jabbed me in the ass. How did he get to her?

I fly through my apartment—phone, keys, wallet—and jab the elevator buttons as I stare at this message. Teeth? I hate the way the word reminds me of the sexy little nip I gave Violet’s lower lip when I left her this morning. Suddenly, it makes my bite … skeevy.

The elevator moves glacially. The town car takes forever. I’m at the door of her apartment building, leaning hard on the intercom as I dial her new phone number.

The intercom crackles first. “Who’s this?”

“Violet. It’s Jayce. Let me in.”

“Are you seriously outside my building? What are you thinking? Someone might see you!”

What? I’ve never known a girl who was embarrassed by me before. Girls I date parade me around like arm candy every chance they get. Before I can splice together the right response, somewhere between offended and apologetic, the door buzzes and I push through into the lobby.

I take the steps to her apartment two at a time and she’s standing there, door open a crack but chained.

A frown tugs at her makeup-free face, but it’s like my world gets ten times brighter. Her red hair is a halo, backlit from the light in her apartment, and she pushes the door closed a bit to unchain it.

“He touched you. How did he touch you? Where?” I demand, and Violet’s brow wrinkles in confusion.

“Who? I’ve been home most of the day. Alone.”

My eyes dart around Violet’s apartment but there’s no one else here. I fix on a tall bouquet of stargazer lilies and a strange feeling of jealousy weighs heavy on my chest. I squash it down. “Nice flowers.”

Violet glances at them. “Thank you. You didn’t—” she hesitates, that pretty blush creeping up her chest and neck again. It makes me want to peek down her shirt and find out exactly where the blush begins. “You didn’t scare me, you know. When you bit me. I thought it was kind of … hot.”

Her last word is a whisper and it’s got me hot. I move closer to her and she stands her ground, letting me invade her space. “Good. I wasn’t trying to scare you. Just wanted a little taste.”

My lips are rapidly closing the distance to hers, my hands aching to touch that soft hair again, when she breathes a few more words. “Then don’t apologize.”

“I didn’t.”

“The flowers.”

I pull my head back and look at her squarely. “What do you mean, the flowers?”

“You said you were sorry. In the flowers.” She turns to them and plucks the card from a little plastic spear at the heart of the bouquet.

I’m sorry for scaring you, Violet.

I shake my head. “No. These aren’t from me.” The smell of lilies is suddenly cloying, too strong in New York’s sticky summer heat. “How did you get these?”

“Delivery. I signed for them this afternoon.” Her mouth drops open and I can see the gears working. If they’re not from me, they’re from her stalker.

“And so you left your apartment, walked downstairs, opened the door—” My voice rises and I take a step back, raking my hand through my own hair instead of hers.

“I buzzed him in,” she whispers. “I buzzed him into the lobby and met him on the landing. I signed…”

“Did he touch you? When he gave you the flowers, or the paper to sign?”

Violet nods and her eyes widen. She might have just come face-to-face with her stalker, but what’s clicking into place for me is that he could have forced her back into her apartment or even taken advantage of her in the lobby.

“So then what happened?” I force my anger to a simmer, leading her to the couch. She looks like she’s about to fall over.

“Corey, my upstairs neighbor, came in when I was signing and said he wanted a DVD back that he’d lent Neil last week.”

“And so the delivery man left.”

Violet nods again. “And then Corey followed me upstairs.”

“Into your apartment?” She nods. “And did he touch you when you gave him the DVD?” Again, she nods.

I breathe out heavily, resting my head in my hands. It could have been the deliveryman. Corey might have saved Violet from … I don’t know what. Or it could have been Corey—he’s close enough to know when she comes home. He’s close enough to watch her.

“Did you go anywhere else?”

She rewinds her day: she went to a coffee shop around the corner. She stopped at the bodega on her block and bought a few things. As she describes each interaction, I’m building a list of suspects in my head, men who are too close to her, who could have touched her, who could watch Violet, covet her, see her as prey.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

1 comment: