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***Teaser Tuesday - Promise to Marry***

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I'm so excited for you to read Promise to Marry!! It's out in less than two weeks and you can pre-order your copy here at the special discounted price!

◆ Amazon: http://amzn.to/1rXhICN
◆ B&N: http://bit.ly/1698so3
◆ iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id916683936
◆ Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/promise-to-marry

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Prologue

When we first met twenty-three years ago, I had hated him.

“You look like Pippi Longstocking!” That was the very first thing he’d said to me. He’d flashed me a boyish grin as he pointed to the pigtails my mom had braided for me that morning when we said goodbye.

I’d stuck my tongue out at him in protest as I followed Aunt Betty and Uncle Tom into their house—my new home. I had known instantly that I wouldn’t like this boy. He was mean, he was a bully, and he sure wasn’t going to be a friend of mine.

Well at least that was what I had thought that day when I moved in with Aunt Betty and her husband. But, like so many other things I’d thought throughout my life, I was wrong. Somehow, against my resistance, he’d chipped away at my stone-cold seven-year-old exterior and won me over within a matter of weeks. I’d discovered that he wasn’t mean after all. He wasn’t a bully either. In fact, somehow, without even knowing how it’d happened, he had become my friend—and not just any old friend—he had become my best friend. My confidant. My constant. My anchor.

We’d been inseparable as we grew up together, spending hours in his treehouse, talking and laughing until Aunt Betty would call me into the house for bed every night.

And even in my darkest hour—when I felt the most lost and alone, when I purposely drove everyone, including him, away—he had been there, by my side, to comfort me. He had been my rock and had refused to be ignored or pushed away. That was the day we had made our pact: If we were still single by the time we were thirty, we'd marry each other.

I had known even then just how lucky I had been to have him in my life. I had loved him the way best friends loved each other. But it wasn’t until I had lost him that I had realized just how much I’d love him—how much my love for him went beyond friendship.

But by then it was too late. I had screwed up. I had ruined everything. I had done something that was unforgivable. And a part of me wondered if I had enjoyed it.

Now, twenty-three years after we’d first met, we were both thirty and single, but I knew that it was now he who hated me.
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Who's excited to read this?