Tuesday Teaser and ARC Giveaway: Perfectly Damaged by EL Montes

Today's teaser and excerpt is from EL Montes and her upcoming release Perfectly Damaged!! 

  

Schizoaffective disorder: a mental illness in which a person experiences a combination of mood disorder and schizophrenia symptoms.
I know about this illness—very well—because I suffer from it. It’s been four years since my diagnosis, and ever since, I’ve been living in a dark hole. Voices constantly invading my thoughts. Hallucinations. All of which force me to question if what I’m experiencing is even reality.

But here I am, still hanging on, still breathing and living through it.

That is, until he stumbled into my life. Logan Reed. I don’t want any part of him. I’ve pushed him away, but he isn’t easily deterred. I’ve told him I’m different, but he doesn’t care. He’s trying to slowly break me down. I’m trying just as hard not to let him. He doesn’t know how truly damaged I am; what will happen when he does?

I know the truth—he’ll never be able to look at me the same way again. Just like everybody else.

 

Two hours. That’s how long it takes for my fingertips to wrinkle like tiny prunes. I’m drained from repeatedly swimming laps. It’s time to call it quits. Although the sun has set, the air is still muggy, and I pull myself out regretfully, wishing I could stay in the cool water a little while longer. My phone blinks on top of the towel, but I ignore it after seeing that it’s a missed call from my mother, probably checking in to see if I burned the house down. I’m sure of it.

I toss my phone aside, grab the towel, and begin drying myself off. I brush the towel over my shoulder and biceps and down toward my wrist. My wrist. My naked wrist. The bracelet is gone.

Every muscle and nerve in my body grows raw as I panic. I drop the towel and search the lounge chair anxiously. Nothing. My eyes scan over the cobblestone patio around me. Nothing. I trace my steps back to the edge of the pool. Nothing. Where can it be? I need that bracelet.

I need it.

I need it.

I need it!

I’m going to cry; my vision turns hazy as my lungs tighten in anticipation.

An item glistening at the bottom of the pool catches my attention and I blink my vision clear. I can’t make out what it is, but there’s something there. Without another thought, I dive in. My hips and legs sway as I speed down to the bottom. After a few seconds, I reach it, but it’s just a damn penny. A penny. I continue to search around, but there’s nothing else down here. I want to scream.

My lungs burn, and I can’t be certain if it’s my rage or a lack of oxygen causing the pain. How could I be so damn careless? As my mind races, my legs grow increasingly numb. Terror is setting in. I’m rapidly losing the ability to swim back up to the surface. If I could breathe, I’d be hyperventilating right now. I’m having a meltdown underwater. I can feel it; I’m about to break. I pull my legs into my chest and wrap my arms around them tightly. I wish I could say this is the first time I’ve been in this situation, but it’s not. I know all too well what I need to do to calm myself down and get the hell out of here. With my eyes firmly shut, I try to focus on something blissful as I hold my breath. The silence beneath the water is soothing, peaceful even. Down here, there are no voices haunting my thoughts.

A calm, pleasant feeling finally settles over me.

And it’s taken away from me in an instant. One second I’m enjoying the silence, and the next I feel a vice-like grip around my arm tugging me upward. I break the surface, shocked and gasping for air, and swallow a mouthful of chlorine water. It burns my nostrils and lungs.

“What the hell?” I cough out. My hands and knees slam against the concrete that borders the pool.

“Are you okay?” a gruff voice huffs out.

Who?

What?

Where?

In a daze, I look up to see a man, completely drenched, leaning over with his hands on his knees. His head is hung low and his whole body rises and falls slightly as he tries to regulate his breathing. I scatter to my feet, jump back, and glare at him. “Who the hell are you?”

His head lifts and… Blue. He has the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re a pale, misty blue with thin streaks of grey and flecks of shimmering gold surrounding the pupil. Thunder, lightning, one hell of a storm—that’s what I see when I look in his eyes. Yeah, he’s a walking storm, all right, and his hypnotizing eyes grow darker as he narrows them in annoyance.

He huffs out as he straightens, revealing broad shoulders and an over six-foot frame. “I’m Logan?” The way he says it makes it seem like I should know who he is. I raise my brows and urge him to continue. “I work with my uncle.” I shake my head again. “Reed Construction,” he finally says.

“Oh.” I wet my lips and the taste of chlorine assaults my tongue. “What are you doing here?”

His face has morphed into full annoyance at this point. “My uncle called your mom. He left his toolbox here and needs it for a project tomorrow. Your mother said she’d let you know I was on my way.”

“Oh.” That would explain the missed call. I wipe away the few soaked strands of hair plastered against my forehead. The naked wrist crossing in front of my face sidetracks me. Damn it, I need that bracelet. I turn around and walk to the edge of the pool, leaning over to scan the clear surface. There’s nothing there to see.

Discouraged, I turn back to the wet man. “What the hell was all that about?” I snap, nudging my head toward the pool.

 “I saved your life,” he says irritably.

Saved my life? Is he kidding? I snort, crossing my arms over my chest. “You nearly killed me. Because of you, I swallowed a gallon of water. I could’ve drowned.”

Lance or Logan—whoever the hell he is—reaches into the pool and pulls out a floating red baseball cap with a blue letter P stitched in the center of it. Clearly a Phillies fan. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” The worn cap twists in his hands as he drains the water from the fabric. “You were under there for almost three minutes. I jump in, save your life, and this is the thanks I get?”

He shakes his head and tosses the baseball cap over it. It isn’t until he reaches for the edge of his white T-shirt that I notice his arms—arms that are fully sketched in dark artistry. I try to make out some of the images, but they bend and twist with others, making it impossible to decipher what’s what without staring. My eyes shift away from his tattoos and take in his physique.  As he wrings his drenched shirt out in front of him, I catch a glimpse of a toned stomach. His wet clothes mold to every muscle of his impressive shape. Still, it doesn’t matter if he’s good-looking or not. I’m still annoyed. “I didn’t need saving,” I mumble.

His head kicks back as he snorts. “Yeah, I’ll remember that next time. Can I just grab the toolbox and be on my way?”

***excerpt copyrighted by EL Montes and is subject to change prior to publishing

USA Today Bestselling Author, E.L. Montes (Emmy Luz Montes) lives in Pennsylvania with her husband, Alex, and their English Bulldog name Butters. She has a Bachelor of Science in Legal Studies. Ms. Montes worked several years as a paralegal for a mid-size law firm. She had always loved the legal field and found it to be interesting.

 She more so "secretly" loved to write. Disastrous was her debut novel which was released October 2012. After the release of her second novel Ms. Montes took a huge leap, by leaving her fulltime job to focus on her writing career. She has and continues to write characters with flaws. Ms. Montes said, “No one is perfect and neither are my characters. It makes the storyline a bit more realistic, in my opinion. But I also feel no matter who you are or the life you have lived, everyone deserves someone to love and be loved. I’m a hopeless romantic, and enjoy writing a story where my readers feel like they’re living and feeling every emotion.”

a Rafflecopter giveaway