Saturday, July 5, 2014


Stupid Girl Synopsis:
Only fools fall in love...

After her senior year of high school leaves behind nothing but heartache, Olivia Beaumont is sure of this: She’s no stupid girl. She sets out for Winston College, promising herself that she will remain focused on her first and only love – astronomy. But all it takes is cocky sophomore Brax Jenkins and an accidental collision with a football, to throw her entire year off course.

A quick-tempered Southie who escaped the inner city streets of Boston to pitch for Winston, Brax is known to play way more fields than just the baseball diamond. So, when his name is drawn to take part in his fraternity’s hazing dare, Brax eagerly accepts the mission to take Olivia’s virginity. But he doesn’t plan on falling hard for the sweet and sassy Texas girl who sees right through his bad-boy persona.

As Olivia and Brax battle their feelings for each other, echoes of the past year begin to surface. A boy who once turned Olivia’s whole world upside down reappears, and “harmless” pranks wreak havoc. Pretty soon the aspiring astronomer is on the verge of revealing her most difficult, heartbreaking secret. All the while, Brax must wrestle with the irrevocable dare, and Olivia struggles against all logic as she does the one thing only a stupid girl would do: fall in love.

Butterflies slammed against my stomach the whole walk down, and it irritated me. It wasn’t just anxiousness about seeing Brax. It was just the idea of going out with a guy. Any guy. And the closer I got to the parking lot, the more nervous I became. The more I wanted to turn around, run and hide. No matter if it was just a friendly dinner, that I was now a freshman in college and not a dumb high school teenager. Why couldn’t I just be calm, cool, collected? I willed those qualities to fall on me, and fast. To infuse in my DNA and make me full of confidence. After a few deep breaths, I had it together. I crossed the common room to the doorway, and pushed it open. And those newly summoned qualities fled the moment I laid eyes on him.
Braxton Jenkins straddled his motorcycle just in front of the walkway. His helmet was off, shades on. Faded jeans, the bottoms cuffed. Black boots. White tee shirt. Black leather jacket. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I knew the moment he saw me. A wide, white smile split his face in two.
The butterflies returned, full force and rabid, with teeth gnashing.
Holy God. I couldn’t do this.
Beaumont! Breathe, girl! Nutcracker! Nutcracker!
The entire silly conversation with Tessa from the night before poured into my brain and instantly calmed me. Just thinking the safe word made me smile. I couldn’t help it. It was just so damn funny. Anyway, it eased my nerves. I walked up to Brax, calm and cool. Friends. Nothing more.
“Hey,” I said. “So you won. How’d the pitching go?”
Whatever expression his eyes held was hidden behind those shades. “Bitchin’ as always. We spanked ‘em good. Nice blouse there, Gracie.”
I smiled, and his face launched into another heart-stopping grin. I inclined my head toward my truck. “Thanks. Let me grab my glasses and jacket.”
Brax said nothing, and I felt his eyes score a jagged blazing hole into my back as I walked toward my truck. It unnerved me a little, but I pushed it aside. I opened the door, and leaned in across the seat to grab my faded denim jacket and shades. Jamming the key in and locking it, I headed back toward Brax and his bike. His eyes were still hidden, but I knew his gaze followed me. I shrugged into my jacket, which, at this time of evening in August I highly doubted I’d freeze my ass off without. “Ready,” I said. I slipped my bag cross-ways over my head and shoulder, and plopped my keys in.
“Come here, Gracie,” Brax said.
My heart slammed. I stepped closer.
Brax reached behind him and retrieved a helmet. He slipped it over my head and snugged it down tightly, tucking my braid inside. I was glad he still wore his shades as his face drew closer and secured the strap under my chin. Those eyes, so close, would’ve made me squirm in discomfort. I stared at myself in their reflection, and at his fingers nimbly moving with the black nylon strap. I noticed a few scars I hadn’t seen before, small nicks that had turned silvery white with age. Definitely a roughened face, yet I had a hard time looking away. He smelled good; recently showered, light cologne. I drew a deep breath. Then another. It barely worked to settle me. My lungs just kept filling up with … him. Unavoidably, my eyes dropped to that mouth. Another breath …

Cindy Miles Bio:

Cindy Miles is the best-selling author of twelve novels, one anthology and three short stories. She also writes as Elle Jasper, and grew up on the salt marshes of the Vernon River in Savannah, Georgia.
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