Excerpt Release: Holly Freakin Hughes by Kelsey Kingsley

September 10, 2017

Today we have the blog tour for HOLLY FREAKIN’ HUGHES by Kelsey Kingsley! Check it out and grab your copy today!

               About Holly Freakin’ Hughes:

31-year-old HOLLY HUGHES is happy with her life. She’s a moderately successful teen advice columnist living in a tiny studio apartment on the Upper East Side with her boyfriend STEPHEN and their cat CAMILLE. She has grand plans of marrying Stephen and having his babies, until Stephen announces that he is in fact gay and in love with someone else, his boss ANTHONY. This twist of fate is the beginning of a slew of life-changing events in poor Holly’s life. Her boss fires her from the magazine for being too old, leaving her unemployed and unable to keep her apartment. With nowhere else to go, Holly moves back to Long Island to live with her younger sister LIZ and 3-year-old niece ANNA, and takes over as Anna’s babysitter until she can find the confidence to get herself back on her feet. As a part of her babysitting routine, Holly takes Anna on bi-weekly trips to the local bookstore, where they attend Story Time. On one occasion, Anna just so happens to run face-first into 36-year-old BRANDON DAVIS, a tall, handsome man who just so happens to be an international best-selling author of a fantasy book series. Holly is unaware of this bit of information, and remains oblivious as their friendship and love for each other grows. When Brandon faces his personal qualms toward his career and confesses who he is to her, Holly is left to face her own issues with inadequacy. The story deals with acceptance for one’s position in life, forgiveness, and overcoming the feeling of simply not being good enough.


Silence then gave way to a tension that blossomed between us. He was so close, pressed firmly into my side, and while my mind tried resisting the magnetic chemistry that was manifesting between us, my body didn’t seem to want to listen. I had been painfully aware of how otherworldly attractive he was—far better looking than any man I had ever spent time with—and I turned my head to look up at him. I pointed my chin skyward to trace the outline of his jaw with my eyes, and because of some sort of gravitational pull that happens between people in movies and apparently us, he turned to look down at me. 
What was it Esther said about handsome men?
My body, my damn body, was rebelling against me as I continued to breathe him in. I took in the scent that had turned itself into something resembling sex, and really, didn’t every woman dream of being that close to a man with the strong jawline of a Norse god? I absentmindedly bit my lip, as my eyes fixated on his mouth. It was a good mouth, I thought, as that familiar heated flame ignited between my legs. 
“So, I guess I—” 
I don’t remember the moment when I had decided to kiss him, if it had even been a decision to make. He had started to speak, the depth of his voice melting in my ears, and I just acted with a sudden surge of lust, silencing him immediately as my lips met his. I had surprised him, sending a sharp inhale of breath through his nose, but when I cracked my eyes open just to make sure it was actually happening, I saw that his had softly closed. 
Our lips moved together, a series of small kisses that became more profound when a hand reached over to rest against the side of my face, his fingertips tickling lightly against the edge of my jaw and the curve of my cheek. My lips parted boldly, fully prepared to coax his open with my tongue, when he pulled away and my eyes snapped open. His remained closed, but his brows had knitted in distress. His hand never stopped stroking my face.
“Maybe this isn’t a, um …” 
I could sense what was coming next. It was a mistake, he wanted to stop, he was disgusted by me, he was ready to leave and never see me again. Each possibility becoming worse and worse as they rampaged through my paranoid brain. But I kept still, waiting for him to make a move. 
“Oh, fuck it,” he said with purpose and thrust his open lips against mine.  
He engulfed my mouth, his tongue dancing with mine under the lights of the parking lot, and God, it was everything a kiss should be and nothing like any kiss I’d had before. Slow and sensual, without sacrificing any passion or urgency. Our bodies turned in unison towards each other, and my arms looped around his neck, standing on my toes, as his hand slid down to the small of my back. His other hand went to meet the other, pulling me closer into him, and my body shivered with excitement at that familiar swelling that pressed against my stomach. I groaned my acknowledgment into his mouth, and wrapped my fingers around the long strands of his hair. 
Against my wishes, he pulled away from my mouth with a groan. “Why are you so fucking short?” 
“Or maybe you’re just too—”  
He hushed me with a bite against my lower lip before sliding his tongue back into my mouth, and without breaking the feverish lock our mouths had on each other, he pushed my back into the van and reached down to wrap an arm around my thigh, lifting me with impressive ease. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around his waist, and didn’t complain when the kissing was accompanied by the grinding of his hips. 
“Holly.” With his forehead pressed against mine, he moaned my name, and I had never been so happy to share a name with a plant. “I want you so bad.” 
He didn’t have to tell me, when the evidence of his desire was hard and pressing exactly where I wanted it, and my God, it felt incredible to be wanted. To hear him moan my name, albeit strange to hear it coming from a different man with a different voice with a different way of kissing—a different everything. A pang of guilt washed over me, remembering Stephen and the intimacy we had once shared, all the times he had said my name in the throes of passion. 
He sent you an invitation to his engagement party. 
The thought chased away any feelings of guilt, as I let my fingers run through Brandon’s hair. “I want you too,” I groaned, overtaken by the need to have him between my legs in the back of Ol’ Rusty.

Grab Your Copy Today:

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Amazon AUS

                         About Kelsey Kingsley:


 Kelsey Kingsley grew up in the great state of New York, and still lives there with her family and a cat named Ethel. When she isn’t writing her fingers to the bone, she enjoys a good (or bad) book, reruns ofFrasier, ruining the lives of her Sims, and singing and dancing in the kitchen. She somehow survives off a diet of tea, doughnuts, and French fries. However, she hates cheese and listening to people chew. You’ve been warned.

Connect with Kelsey:

Goodreads | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

Enter Kelsey’s Giveaway:

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