Showing posts with label Mariah Dietz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mariah Dietz. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 02, 2015

BLOG TOUR PROMO

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Title:
 Finding Me (His, #3)

Author:
 Mariah Dietz

Genre:
 Contemporary Romance

Release Date:
 June 1, 2015

goodreads

Synopsis
I came here to escape. Leave the debris and avoid the inevitable truths.
Things are better.

Worse.

Different.

I’m finding me, but in the process I fear I’m forgetting those I have left, and the ones who have left me. Maybe I’m losing who I was.

Can I forget my past and move forward?

Can I forget him?


Buy The Book
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Excerpt
Walking the short distance through the apartment and down to the parking lot, time slows down, allowing me to fixate on the fact that I look like a mess, and feel like I’m walking too straight. I slump my shoulders slightly to try and look more relaxed and then feel even more awkward, and straighten again and feel even more rigid.

He unlocks the truck with the press of a button and unlike he did when we rode in his Jeep together, he doesn’t come to open the passenger door. I’m still debating if I wanted him to when I notice a water bottle lying in the middle seat. It was mine. I carried it in here from the hospital Sunday. I never would have remembered it if I didn’t see it again, that entire night is sort of a blur, but at some point, someone had passed it to me while we waited for the doctor. I don’t remember carrying it out. It’s still mostly full, showing proof I barely touched it. Did I carry it out?

The truck starts with a soft rumble. It sounds so different than his Jeep. My mind turns with the gears. What do I say to the guy that was everything and is now supposed to mean nothing to me? This silence is unbearably uncomfortable. I can’t stop from guessing what he’s thinking. Is he wishing I wasn’t here? In his truck? In California?

“So, how’s medical school?”

Max’s head turns and his eyes focus on me for a second before he turns back to the road. I keep my attention on him, confused by his delayed response. Of all topics, this seems like a safe route. “I have my own set of flashcards.”

I smile out of relief more than humor. “I used the wrong set of flashcards to study for a test last semester.” I shake my head and release a short breath. “It’s amazing that I passed it.”

“I bet you got an A on the paper, didn’t you?”

I glance at Max and he’s looking at me. His head shakes and a soft chuckle mingles with the music. “You’re the smartest person I know. You’re astrophysicist material.”

“Says the guy studying to be a brain surgeon.”

“Neurosurgeon.”

My laughter fills the truck. It’s not even that his joke was all that funny, but having an easy conversation with Max makes laughing easier. Better. When my laughter fades into a smile I expect to feel the same stab of nostalgia I experienced earlier with the knowledge that I will miss this, but I don’t. I simply appreciate the moment, and attempt to stretch it. “Do you remember the Maximus flashcard?”

Max’s truck pulls into a parking spot, and he shifts into park before turning to me. “I remember everything.” His tone is solemn, but his face is relaxed. I keep his stare without abashment. I want to stay here and continue to draw out this moment. To feel this emotion that’s flushing through me, warming me, and filling me with something I have forgotten about. I don’t know how to describe it: it’s not the same comfort that I get from being around my sisters, or the adrenaline I receive when I reach that point while running; it’s a rightness, a completeness that makes my heart swell and my smile broaden. My head starts to race with interpretations of what this means, but a fog fills my thoughts because I know. My heart understands exactly what he’s saying to me … I think.

“I do too.” My admission makes me feel brave.

My phone rings, and we’re back in his driveway almost two years ago when his phone rang, back to where neither of us knows how to say the right thing to one another, but this time it’s both of us walking a gray tightrope, one that felt less intimidating to cross because I could see him at the other side.

His eyes close and he looks embarrassed, or possibly ashamed. It awakens old tendencies, making me question the reality of the moment. My phone rings again, and Max’s entire body shifts away from me. Opening the door, he climbs out in one fluid movement.

I don’t know if I can go out there and face him right now. I feel as though he’s rejecting me all over again, and it makes my eyes and throat burn.


About The Author
Mariah




Mariah Dietz lives in Eastern Washington with her husband and two sons that are the axis of her crazy and wonderful world.

Mariah grew up in a tiny town outside of Portland, Oregon where she spent the majority of her time immersed in the pages of books that she both read and created.

She has a love for all things that include her sons, good coffee, books, travel, and dark chocolate. She also has a deep passion for the stories she writes, and hopes readers enjoy the journeys she takes them on, as much as she loves creating them.

His Series
BH cover
LH cover

Giveaway


FM Full
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Monday, June 01, 2015

RELEASE BLITZ

FM release banner

Title:
 Finding Me (His, #3)

Author:
 Mariah Dietz

Genre:
 Contemporary Romance

Release Date:
 June 1, 2015

goodreads

Synopsis

I came here to escape. Leave the debris and avoid the inevitable truths.
Things are better.

Worse.

Different.

I’m finding me, but in the process I fear I’m forgetting those I have left, and the ones who have left me. Maybe I’m losing who I was.

Can I forget my past and move forward?

Can I forget him?


Buy The Book
FM Cover

Excerpt
The rest of my family arrives with the late afternoon. There’s an awkward trepidation surrounding each of them before they approach me, and although it makes me feel slightly guilty, I’m a little grateful for it as well. It allows me to soak into a familiar level of numbness that only seems to briefly break when Jameson arrives. His familiar smile falters when he sees me, but he replaces it quickly and pulls me into a hug.

Chicken pot pie is our family’s traditional Christmas Eve dinner, and although I was glad to not have a traditional meal on Thanksgiving with Fitz’s family, I’m even more glad to have the comforting aroma and taste of my mom’s chicken pot pie.

“Ace, do you want some more bread?” Savannah asks, lifting the bread basket and tilting it in my direction. I think I’ve already had this same question posed to me nine other times.

“I’m good thanks.”

“How about some more fried apples?” my mom asks, doing as Savannah had and reaching for the bowl in front of her.

I try to think of a polite way to tell them all to stop bothering me about eating when a glint catches my eye with my mom’s movement. My hand snatches hers and before I realize what I’m doing, I’m gripping her hand too tightly. Bile rises in my throat, forcing me to swallow painfully.

“We were going to tell you all tonight,” she begins. Her hand grows rigid and she attempts to slip her fingers from my hold. I squeeze tighter. “We wanted you to all find out together.”

“What in the hell is wrong with you?” I shout, dropping her hand and retracting mine because I don’t want to touch her. I don’t even want to look at her. I shove my chair back and stand up, not caring what the others are doing in reaction.

“Harper Jo, sit down,” my mom orders, her voice louder than I’ve heard it in years, possibly ever.

I keep walking.

Her quick footsteps follow me. I know that it’s her because of the sound of her heels. My mom has always worn shoes to dinner, and ninety percent of her shoe closet consists of high heels, and right now this fact annoys the hell out of me.

I turn to face her when I reach the kitchen. My mouth opens, preparing to let loose on the anger fueling me, but she beats me to it. “You get back in there this instant! You do not get to judge me, young lady. This is my house, and in my house you respect me. Now get back in there and eat something. You look horrible.” Her tone inflicts a pain that I want to return.

“It hasn’t even been a year!” The volume of my accusation hurts my own ears. “Did you ever even love him?”

Her face contorts, changing from shock to anger to something that looks nearly wicked. “That’s quite the question coming from you, when you packed your bags and left everyone without looking over your shoulder.”

“I hate you right now.” My voice comes out balanced and heat races through me. I was never the rebellious teenager. In all of my life, I never did scream these same words at my mom like I’d heard Mindi, Jenny, Kendall, and even Savannah do on different occasions. But right now, all I feel toward her is hatred that blinds me from any other emotion.

“I’m not so fond of you lately either, kiddo.”

“Then why in the hell did you make such a big deal about me coming home?”

“It was a mistake.” Her light blue eyes look glacial as she stares directly into mine without a hint of regret or remorse.

“I guess you can add it to your list, behind getting engaged within seven months of your husband dying.” My words are far quieter this time. I don’t have the energy to scream them at her like I want to. I use the small amount of what is left to turn before she can respond and head out to the backyard.

My pain feels like a living, breathing thing, consuming me inch by inch as her words play over in my head. My mom’s getting married. The heat that had filled me seconds ago fades, replaced by an icy chill. As I look into the pool that once only held fun and an escape, my body begins to sway. I want to escape again. I want to escape from everything.

Not even the familiar pool holds a warm embrace for me. The water is far cooler than what it has always been kept at, making my skin prickle as I sink further into the abyss. I open my eyes as I go, looking out into a never ending sea of blue.

Arms grab me before I can fully appreciate the beauty of the water and the bubbles floating from my throat to the surface where blurred lights dance. They pull me against a large body that feels sharp in contrast to the open water. As we plunge through the surface, into the night air, I hear him take in a deep breath. He is still anchoring me against him, pulling me toward the shallow end.

I don’t resist. I don’t know what I was doing coming in here. I’m sure he’s thinking I’m insane, or trying to kill myself. I’m not. I wasn’t. I just needed to feel something that didn’t hurt.


About The Author
Mariah


Mariah Dietz lives in Eastern Washington with her husband and two sons that are the axis of her crazy and wonderful world.

Mariah grew up in a tiny town outside of Portland, Oregon where she spent the majority of her time immersed in the pages of books that she both read and created.

She has a love for all things that include her sons, good coffee, books, travel, and dark chocolate. She also has a deep passion for the stories she writes, and hopes readers enjoy the journeys she takes them on, as much as she loves creating them.


His Series
BH cover
LH cover

Giveaway

FM Full
love p

Thursday, May 14, 2015

RELEASE BLITZ

FM excerpt banner

Title:
 Finding Me (His, #3)

Author:
 Mariah Dietz

Genre:
 Contemporary Romance

Release Date:
 June 1, 2015

goodreads

Synopsis
I came here to escape. Leave the debris and avoid the inevitable truths.
Things are better.

Worse.

Different.

I’m finding me, but in the process I fear I’m forgetting those I have left, and the ones who have left me. Maybe I’m losing who I was.

Can I forget my past and move forward?

Can I forget him?

Excerpt

“I warned you guys to stop.” Jameson’s voice taunts, and I choose to ignore it, hoping that Kendall will tell him to shut up. When she doesn’t, I nestle further against the pillow, preparing to search for more comforting sleep until cold air slices across my skin as our blanket is whipped off with a harsh tug.

My entire body seems to feel the burn, causing my eyes to begrudgingly open to ensure that I’m wearing something more than just underwear. I am, but barely—just a tiny pair of shorts and a tank top with a built in bra that presses against my chest in a particularly uncomfortable fashion.

“What am I wearing?”

“You guys decided to switch clothes. There was a lot of giggling, and I think Mindi has your shirt from last night,” Jameson answers, folding the blanket.

“You guys look like you hurt.” My eyes shift to see Wes sitting on the far side of the couch, looking at us in amusement.

“What are you guys doing?” Kendall grumbles quietly because I know, like me, her head is aching too badly to yell at them.

“I told you guys to take it easy last night, especially since you drank too much the night before.” Jameson looks to Kendall. “We have that dinner tonight for my work. You’ve got to rehydrate”

Kendall groans in response, and Jameson sets down two mugs of coffee. The scent alone makes my stomach roll and I shake my head in protest.

“I don’t even remember coming home.”

“What can you remember?” Jameson asks me, his tone suspicious. I open my eyes to see Kendall staring at me, the look of pain in her eyes recedes, replaced with curiosity and thought as her eyebrows and forehead scrunch.

I lift my eyebrows, imploring her to tell me if she can recall us doing anything we’re going to regret. Her shoulders raise and her head gently shakes and then quickly stops as she winces.

Jameson laughs, and I’m pretty certain it’s filled with more relief than humor. “What happened?” I ask.

Jameson shakes his head, his eyebrows raised. “All kinds of shit.”

“Make him fess up,” I whine, looking to Kendall.

“Jameson.” Her one word is filled with enough of a threat that he looks a little nervous.

“Wait, how would you even know what happened? We went to the bachelorette party last night.” I glance at Kendall’s neck, noticing proof of our night when I see a beaded necklace covered in every unnatural shade of penis. I tug on one of them, and Kendall looks down and laughs painfully before removing it.

“Yeah, how would you know?” she fires.

“You guys called and invited us out,” Jameson answers.

“Who’s us?” I ask.

“What happened?” Kendall growls.

“Savannah danced on a bar,” Wes adds randomly.

“I remember that!” I cry, too loud for my own ears.

I recall glimpses of her wearing a small black dress that she was thrilled to be able to fit in again with a killer pair of heels that really had nearly killed her a couple of times in our travels the previous night. My visions of her cloud, and a curly blond-haired guy with eyes so dark they were almost creepy, appears. I was dancing with him. Flashes of Max shoving him and yelling at me, accusing me of being easy, and me in turn yelling at him for dating a whore fade as I cover my face with both hands and groan.

“What?” Kendall asks.

“I’m staying with Mindi.”

“Nah, you were drunk. It’s no big deal,” Wes assures me. I look at Jameson who doesn’t look nearly as convinced.

“Oh my, God! Nate!” Kendall gasps.

“Nate what?” I ask skeptically.

“Nate and Max,” she says, placing her hand on my arm. The gesture brings a new flash of memories of her pulling me back as I tried to stand between the two of them during a heated exchange.

“I’m staying with Mindi,” I repeat.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she says, her eyes still raised to the ceiling in thought.

“No, it’s really not. And you guys are going out tonight. I’m going to go stay with Mindi and Kyle. Things need to calm down.” I shiver against the cool air blowing through a vent on the far side of the couch and move to sit up, determined to get some more appropriate clothes on that don’t reveal most of my cleavage.

Heavy footfalls enter the living room and Landon and Max appear. Landon looks from Kendall and me to Jameson as Max avoids looking at any of us.

“Alright,” Wes begins. “So last night we experienced some unforeseen hurdles. But that’s okay. It’s not a big deal. It’s a new day.”

Max walks away.


About The Author

Mariah

Mariah Dietz lives in Eastern Washington with her husband and two sons that are the axis of her crazy and wonderful world.

Mariah grew up in a tiny town outside of Portland, Oregon where she spent the majority of her time immersed in the pages of books that she both read and created.

She has a love for all things that include her sons, good coffee, books, travel, and dark chocolate. She also has a deep passion for the stories she writes, and hopes readers enjoy the journeys she takes them on, as much as she loves creating them.


His Series
BH cover
LH cover

Giveaway

FM Full
love p