I'm excited to bring you the Finding Perfect Book Blitz, hosted by Xpresso Book Tours. Stay tuned for a giveaway, character interview and an awesome excerpt!
Title: Finding Perfect
Author: Kendra C. Highley
Genre: Young Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Publication date: September 14th 2015
Publisher: Entangled Crush
Summary:
For “Perfect Paige” Westfeld, today is “D” Day. As in, she just got
one on her calculus test. With her dreams of Stanford, her reputation,
and her parents’ expectations at stake, Paige needs to find a way to
save face before everything she’s worked for goes up in flames.
Ben Franklin (yes, he’s related) is from the wrong side of town, with
the wrong clothes and the wrong kind of life. He also knows an
opportunity when he sees one, and he’ll be happy to tutor Paige—if she
makes him into the kind of guy her best friend, the hottest girl in
school, will date.
It’s the perfect arrangement. And Paige is determined not even the
inconvenient—and utterly imperfect—attraction simmering between her and
Ben will ruin it…
AUTHOR BIO:
Kendra C. Highley lives in north Texas with her husband and two children. She also serves as staff to four self-important cats. This, according to the cats, is her most crucial job. She believes chocolate is a basic human right, running a 10k is harder than it sounds, and that everyone should learn to drive a stick-shift. She loves monsters, vacations, baking and listening to bad electronica.
Author Links:
Character Interview: Paige Westfield
Hi
Paige, welcome. How are you?
Um, tired I guess. How long is the
interview again?
Not
long. I know you’re busy. Speaking of which, you have a lot on your plate right
now.
I do. Senior year is really crazy. So many
projects. I get asked to help out a lot.
So
I’ve heard. Rumor has it, though, that you’ve been spotted with a guy recently—Ben
Franklin, right? Anything we should know about?
Oh, that. He’s just a friend.
So
you don’t have
a thing for him?
::sighs:: I plead the fifth.
Really?
That’s all you’re going to say? Because someone saw you two in your car the
other day. What was that about?
I was fixing his hair, that’s all.
That’s
not what it looked like, but you’re blushing, so let’s move on. How are things
at home?
Okay. My mom still has us on that diet, but
I’ve had a lot of chances to sneak sweets lately, which keeps me sane.
And
the piano recital?
Ugh, don’t ask. I’m still working on the
piece.
Fair
enough. Here’s a serious question—where do you see yourself in five years?
Harvard medical school. After finishing
pre-med at Stanford.
You
don’t sound sure.
It’s…maybe I’m not sure. I don’t know. Daddy
really wants me to go to Stanford, and my mom isn’t good about changes to “The
Plan.” Even if I wanted to go somewhere else, I don’t think they’d approve.
But…what
do you want?
Wow. You know, almost no one asks me that.
Just Zoey. And Ben. Anyway, I’m not sure what I want. I do know I want to work
with Alzheimer’s patients, but maybe not as a neurologist like Daddy.
Understood.
So, I heard another rumor—that you hosted a very, ahem, hot car wash at your house the
other day.
Oh, God. Please don’t ask me about that.
Okay,
but answer this question—did you really make Ben take his shirt off?
::mumbles:: Had to show off the
merchandise. For, uh, Zoey.
One
last thing—you have a real heart for helping people. Have you ever thought
maybe you should take some time for yourself? Take a break?
::wistful sigh:: Yeah, actually. But
there’s a lot I have to get done first.
Like
fall in love? Uh huh, I see that blush.
Okay, okay. Yes, like maybe fall in love.
Excerpt:
“So why are we doing this again?”
he called.
Even though he had no idea what
she had in mind for this little stage play, he’d gone along with good humor.
Hell, he was even washing her car for real. Which was funny because a clean car
was beside the point in this plan.
“Just keep doing what you’re
doing and all will become crystal clear.”
He gave her a long, weird look,
then shrugged and went back to work. Paige joined him but spent part of her
time focused on the street corner. Any minute now…
“Your tires are low,” Ben said,
peeking at her around the front bumper. “If you have an air compressor, I could
air them up for you.”
She propped her fist on her hip.
“Does this look like the kind of house that keeps an air compressor on hand?”
He made a face, then laughed.
“No, this looks like the kind of house where they call the dealership for
help.”
“Exactly.”
They worked in silence
until—there! Paige snapped to get his attention just as Zoey turned onto her
street. Ben looked at her, and from the startled expression, she knew she was
going to have to coach him through every second of this close encounter.
She gave him a stern look. “Take
off your shirt.”
His already flushed face turned a
deeper shade of red. “What? No way!”
Zoey had pulled up to the curb,
and the BMW idled while she dipped out of view, probably to grab her purse.
They only had a few seconds, and desperate times called for desperate measures.
Paige stalked over to the hose and, under the guise of washing the suds off her
car, “accidentally” sprayed Ben right in the chest.
His eyes popped wide open as he
stared down at his soaked shirt. “Why?” he growled under his breath.
“Off,” Paige growled back, then
turned to greet Zoey. “Hey! Thanks for letting me borrow your dress for the
party next weekend.”
Zoey handed her a dress bag,
looking at something beyond Paige’s left shoulder. “Yeah, sure.”
Zoey didn’t say anything else,
and Paige hazarded a look behind her. As ordered, Ben had stripped off his
shirt and oh…my…God.
Okay, so she had guessed he had
nice shoulders under those T-shirts after all the work at the tire store, and
she’d definitely copped a feel when they’d cuddled on the back porch, but she
couldn’t have known he was that ripped. He was lean—leaner than most of the
football players anyway—but he made the most of what he had, from the tight
biceps and defined pecs, right down to the hard, flat stomach and the
tantalizing trail of light brown hair running from his navel into the waistband
of his shorts…which, oh hell, were riding low on his hips.
She didn’t want to blink so she
could keep staring. Jesus.
Doing a great job of pretending
he didn’t notice them hanging on his every move, he reached across the top of
the Mustang to soap up the roof. He was a quick study, for sure, stretching in
ways that showed off his arms and shoulders. Then he walked over to the bucket
and very deliberately bent down to soak the sponge. She might need to sit down.
His back was just as good as his front.
She’d created a monster. A very
hot, slightly wet monster.
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