The spotlight on Shannon Dermott is coming to an end but it is not done yet! We have a few posts still lined up before the month is over. Today we have an excerpt from the book Through the Lens! And tomorrow you will be able to read Ethan's POV from this very novel! Isn't that awesome?
Oh, and don't forget to enter the giveaway of this very book in paperback! You have until tomorrow (Wednesday) to enter before it closes! GOOD LUCK
Excerpt from Through The Lens
I took in the black boots, black jeans, and then a black tee strained from his defined muscles. Add to those visuals, his movie star face framed by a full head of dark hair that caught the wind just right. My finger was trigger happy (click), and I couldn't help but snap a few shots of him (click. click. click). And although he was facing me, he hadn’t been looking at me. His gaze was directed out into the masses, people watching I imagined. My hand nervously moved to the lens to tighten the shot on his face.
And that’s when I saw the color of his eyes. They were the bluest of blue that would make the sky want to cry from jealously. He was hot, a ten on the Richter scale. We’re talking catastrophic heartbreak. But the way his eyes bore into my lens-. Crap, he looked at directly me. Saw me. My nervous finger clicked off the shot before I shifted away in embarrassment. I did a 180 towards good old Abe and walked a couple steps, feigning more interest as I started to line up an extreme long shot of that memorial. I needed to get out of there. Had he known I was taking pictures of him? I was poised to walk away in the direction of the memorial and make my escape when I heard a voice behind me. He was too close and I knew because I felt his breath on the back of my exposed neck. And I knew who it might be by the sheer amount of baritone in the voice. Slowly, I turned around, heart knocking against my chest.
It was him. And he was like really tall. I'd already been tall but he had a good head over me, making me look up at him, guiltily while he looked down at me with no hint of shame. In fact his face was surprisingly empty, devoid of anything I could read. With his head at an angle, he spoke again, “So, do I get to see?”
With no experience at all with guys other than Bradley—I mean who dates the fat girl— I was struck by his proximity, the fact that he, looking like that, was talking to me. And I am barely able to stutter out, “See what?”
Chuckling, he exposed impossibly white teeth, he said, “My picture.”
The duh, must have crossed my face and I tilted the camera, which had been cradled in my palm, to reveal the ancient camera I was using. “This isn’t digital.”
“That’s a problem then,” he said, his face expressionless again. No, there was expression, I thought looking up at that face, hands shaking. And the look I saw there made me swallow hard.
“Why?” I asked, feeling like cotton had filled my throat.
“I think there must be laws about that or something.”
“Laws,” I repeated, perplexed.
“Yeah, laws. I don’t think I gave you permission to take my picture.” His posture said he was dead serious. Were there laws? I had no idea. And would he try to call the police or something. I didn't mean to do anything. I had been caught up in the feeling of the new camera, caught up in the sheer amount of attractiveness one person could have.
Taking my camera in his hand, the strap around my neck pulled me closer to him. He didn’t seem to notice that we were basically sharing too much personal space. He studied my camera like he knew a thing or two about them turning it over this way and that.
“You’re not going to open it, are you?” I asked meekly, scared he would press charges. And that if he'd open it carelessly, try to force it open, the vintage camera might break let alone ruin the film inside.
With a sardonic arch of his brow, he said, “I should. Do you have a release form? I mean, you can’t go posting these pictures without permission.”
“I, I never,” I stammered. I had no idea how many laws I might be breaking. “I promise I won’t post any of your pictures.”
Not looking at all convinced, he said, “How do I know that? Do you know how much my face is worth?”
Priceless, I wanted to say but kept that little comment to myself. I didn't want to seem creepier than he probably already thought me to be. I found myself licking my suddenly dry lips. Was he a model? There was no doubt he could be.
Sighing, at my lack of response, he said, “Well, I guess you owe me then.” Owe him, I didn’t even know him.
Being a twin isn’t all that bad, nor is it all that good. Being the fat twin makes things a little worse. Seventeen year old, Jessa Shelby has been all but ignored. Trimmed down, but not skinny like her sister, she has decided to make her mark in her final year in high school. Things begin anew the summer before her senior year when she makes friends with Ethan Hart, a boy with a twisted past, and Allie, his near celebrity status girlfriend, while taking pictures with her new prized possession. Hanging out with them opened her eyes to a lot of new possibilities including Josh Macon, whom she’s secretly crushed on all through high school. No longer the ‘fat girl’, Josh now seems interested in her too. Long before the day comes to graduate, Jessa finds herself gasping for air. With her vision clouded from tears born of pain as the straps from her precious camera tighten around her throat, clarity sets in. They say that just before you die your life flashes before your eyes. And on the threshold of death claiming her, she finds that partially true. Her flash begins as if to explain just how she ended up on Death’s door. With mere moments left, she has to wonder if trust had come at a very high price.
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