Exclusive Cover Reveal: Heartbeats by Jenna Kendrick #Excerpt #Giveaway

Title: Heartbeats

Author: Jenna Kendrick

Release Date (Print & Ebook) – 3/13/2018

Length – 61,000 words

Subgenre – Contemporary M/M Romance

Cover Artist – Dianne at Lyrical Lines

Blurb

When Andrew Palmer and his husband decide to expand their family, they use a surrogate to carry their baby. On the day they get the happy news they're expecting, Andrew is blindsided when Mason asks him for a divorce and moves out, taking their daughter with him. Instead of counting down the days until the twins' birth with his partner, Andrew's fighting for every moment of time with his daughter and readying himself to become a single father.

Orphaned at a young age, Bradley Stern has always wanted a family to call his own. He’s done everything possible in preparation to become a single father including finding a surrogate to carry his child. Knowing he’s going to have two babies to care for means double the love, and he can hardly wait the last few months for his twins to be born.

When Andrew and Bradley each get a call about a tragic car accident and premature delivery, they discover their surrogate has promised the twins to both of them. As they wait for paternity results and watch the babies struggle to survive, they turn to each other for comfort. Only one man will walk away with what both want most, but now he'll also take the other man's heart, as well.

Excerpt

 “Surely you can tell me something. How are my babies?” Bradley raked his fingers through his hair, barely resisting pulling it out by the handful. No telling what it looked like, but he left it firmly attached to his scalp.

“Mr. Stern, as I’ve already said, someone will be out for you shortly.” The NICU nurse’s voice straddled a fine line between professional courtesy and annoyance. “Now, are you going to wait patiently, or do I have to ask security to escort you out of the hospital?” As he turned away, the glass divider between the info desk and the waiting area rattled with more force than the last time he’d demanded answers. Too bad, because he wasn’t budging until he knew what was happening to his twins and their surrogate.

For all that the hospital had tried to create a welcoming environment, the empty waiting room stank of lost hopes, stale coffee, and the astringent smell that lingered in all hospitals. If he sat, he’d be swallowed up by the despondency that clung to the chairs. Instead, he walked. Fourteen steps up the hall, fourteen steps back, just far enough for it to be considered pacing and not hovering. He’d practically worn a trench into the hardwood floor. It’d been hours already—he glanced at his watch—no, more like twenty minutes. No wonder the staff was losing patience. Time was standing still.

His mouth opened in an overly loud yawn that had him looking right and left with embarrassment, but it was too early for anyone other than hospital staff to be milling about. The inscrutable nurse didn’t even look up from her computer screen.

The adrenaline rush from racing to get here battled with the exhaustion of having been awake for over twenty-four hours. After a long week in New York City filled with frustrating meetings and high-profile events with Uncle Richard and his merry band of blowhards, he’d been unable to stand one more night there. Every car horn and squeal of brakes from the street below set him on edge, and come morning, Richard would have one more piece of business, one more person he needed to meet. Any excuse to keep him nearby and try to wear him down. He’d just wanted to get home to his mountain, treacherous roads in the middle of the night be damned, and he’d called down for his Tesla Roadster before he so much as loosened his tie. Halfway to Egremont, he’d received the call that had him veering east to Springfield.

The same refrain haunted him as it had the rest of the drive. I’m not ready. I’m not ready. Never mind that this was the culmination of a long-held dream. Making lists of baby supplies and everything he needed to decorate the nursery was a far cry from having checked so much as a single item off said lists. But none of that was important right now. He’d deal with the nursery and all the rest once he knew his babies were well.

They’re not ready, either. He’d been reading about fetal development week-by-week throughout the pregnancy, not that he could recall a single useful fact right now. Fingernails and blinking—the parts he’d been so excited about a couple days ago—suddenly took a back seat to lung development. He swallowed the knot in his throat and reached into his pocket. No. Already a hair’s breadth from losing his shit, Googling worst-case scenarios wouldn’t help him avoid being kicked out of the hospital for causing a disturbance.

Stomping feet and labored breaths caught his attention as two men ran down the hall. One pointed at the chairs, then approached the nurse’s station, quietly giving his name. His companion, jacket wide open and sweatshirt clearly inside-out, looked around the area wide-eyed before lurching across the hall to the restroom.

“Did you see where my brother went? A little bit taller, a lot less handsome?”

There was no reply from the nurse. Bradley glanced over to see the man staring back at him quizzically. He pointed at the bathroom just as the door opened.

The brother was indeed taller, by at least a few inches. But his dark blond hair, bright blue eyes, and muscles for days rendered him a hundred times sexier than the first guy.

Judging from the greenish cast to his skin, he was also either hungover or sick. Bradley stepped away in distaste, leaving the other men to melt into the chairs of despair while he resumed pacing. Fourteen steps up the hall. Turn. Five, six, seven—

The door to the unit opened. “Who’s here for the Penn twins?”

—Eight, nine. Wait. Penn.

Bradley hurried over to the man in bright blue scrubs. The surgical mask tucked under his chin pulled his ears forward, giving him a slightly elfin appearance. Or maybe lack of sleep and stress were making him as fanciful as the giraffes and elephants painted on the walls.

The nurse gave Bradley a welcoming smile. “You the new dads?”

Bradley looked to his right, only then noticing the tall guy had also approached.

“Oh, we’re not together,” he said. Being together with someone wasn’t in the cards for him. His heart was taking a big enough risk letting children in, much less a partner.

“We ask that only parents come into the unit for the first visit. Which one of you is the father?” He looked expectantly between the two men.

“I am,” they both replied at the same time.

Author Bio

Jenna Kendrick writes contemporary, new adult, and paranormal romance about smart guys with a propensity for snark. Jenna went to a small college in the woods of Western Massachusetts, where she alternated between bare feet and hiking boots and used dining hall trays as a mode of transportation in the winter. She fell in love with creative writing after writing a satirical essay to get out of yet another literary analysis assignment. Unable to choose a coast or climate zone, she bounced around the country before settling in Upstate New York. She lives with her husband and several furry creatives, some of whom think of her desk as their own.

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Blog Tour: Stuck With You by Jenna Kendrick #Review #Excerpt #Giveaway

STUCK WITH YOU

JENNA KENDRICK

M/M ROMANCE

AMAZON GLOBAL

ARe

iBooks

NOOK

KOBO

BLURB

The Assignment: Discover if forced proximity leads to increased intimacy by being handcuffed to a partner for five days.

Jamie O'Connor's closet is tightly closed and full of secrets. Attending college on a baseball scholarship, he's hiding an injury along with his sexuality. A college degree is the key to escaping his family's oppressive expectations. Until he graduates, he needs to play ball, both on the field and off. Being partnered with an openly gay classmate for a sociology project threatens to put more than just his free college ride at risk.

Seth Lerner's closet is empty, but that's because his baggage is always right by his side. Managing his severe ADHD while trying to overcome an earlier setback leaves him little time for any kind of social life, much less a relationship. He certainly can't afford the distraction of falling for his closeted project partner.

Neither Jamie nor Seth plan on letting this assignment get in the way of their objectives. But secrets come out and goals change when you're stuck together.

EXCERPT # 1

The finest denim-clad ass Jamie had ever seen brushed past him, and Jamie almost dropped his textbook. He should be used to this reaction by now, but every glance at Seth Lerner caused him to lose all sense. Seth went to his usual seat, one row ahead and three chairs over. Jamie was fascinated by the precise way Seth always lined up his blue pen and two highlighters, one yellow and one green, to the left of his composition-style notebook. While almost everyone else in the class typed their notes directly into a computer, Seth wrote his by hand. Once everything was aligned to his satisfaction, he pulled the earbuds out of his ears and bent over to shove his phone into the front of his backpack and zip it resolutely away. This was Jamie’s favorite part of Seth’s pre-class ritual, as Seth’s shirt rode up enough to give Jamie a glimpse of dimples and the faintest smattering of light brown hair at the top of his ass. Jamie adjusted himself under the guise of settling into his seat. The stadium seating of the Kellogg 2A lecture hall sucked for a discussion-based class of only 30 students, but he was grateful for the long tables that ran the length of each row, hiding both illicit cell phone use and erections. He’d spend the majority of class half-hard, attuned to Seth’s every movement. The precision of Seth’s placement of his textbook to the right of his notebook belied his almost incessant leg-bouncing and finger tapping. More than once, Jamie had needed to borrow Christian’s class notes because he’d gotten too caught up in the rhythm of the song that obviously flowed through Seth’s body. Not that he ever admitted to Christian why he’d been unable to keep up with the professor’s lecture. After all, Jamie was straight. Seth, of course, was oblivious to Jamie’s attention. Jamie had chosen his self-assigned seat with care, able to view the object of his attention throughout class without being obvious about it. If Seth ever felt as if he were being watched, he certainly never turned around or gave any other indication of paranoia. Good thing, too, because awareness would ruin the fantasy forever. Jamie could barely admit his interest to himself; he’d never be able to work up the courage to confess to anyone else. Especially not Seth himself. And he’d be more apt to walk across the quad naked than to act on his desire. As the room filled with students, Jamie pulled his attention away from the way Seth’s wide shoulders narrowed to his lean torso and forced himself to focus on the front of the lecture hall. Dr. Pulaski was running late, as usual. She often left a discussion question on the board to get the class thinking and talking. But what did she mean by the single word she’d written today? “Tethered? I didn’t see anything about bondage in the syllabus,” someone behind him said, accompanied by loud laughs from his friends. Donny Stewart had a joke for everything. If it could be at someone else’s expense, even better. “It could mean the baggage we all carry with us,” a girl in the front row offered timidly. Mary, Marjorie—her name was something like that. Jamie had seen her waiting up for Seth outside the lecture hall and walking around campus with him, but for some reason they never sat together in class. “You mean the baggage you’re carrying around your hips?” Donny’s sycophants laughed long and loud at his quick comeback. Hadn’t these idiots dished out enough of this shit in high school? “More like the helium balloon that is your brain, Stew.” Jamie fired back. Few people stood up to Donny because they feared being the next victim in his crosshairs. Seth turned in his seat to see who’d spoken. Jamie was startled as they made direct eye contact for the first time. The depth of Seth’s chocolate brown eyes captured him to the point that he almost missed Donny’s retort. Shit, if that asshole caught him making goo-goo eyes at a guy, not even Jamie’s status as pitcher and captain of the baseball team would save him from becoming a target of his bullying. “Are lame comebacks what you’re pitching instead of baseballs these days, Windup? That’d explain why you’re not making it into the strike zone.” And sometimes even being a jock wasn’t a safety net. Especially a jock having a crap season and trouble performing up to expectations. Jamie forced himself to look away from Seth and lean back casually in his seat, hoping the rest of the class thought he was just too cool to continue engaging with Donny. He was spared any further embarrassment—of the inappropriate attraction or sports performance varieties—by the belated entrance of Dr. Pulaski. “Sorry I’m late, gang.” Dr. P greeted the class with the same refrain every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Jamie wondered how she’d react if they all recited it to her en masse one day. “The daycare center was a madhouse, and Lily was clingy.” She talked about her daughter at every opportunity and often raced across campus to the nearby daycare center between classes and office hours. She dropped an oversized tote on the floor next to the podium with a heavy thud and removed her silly hat with the strings and pompoms. “So let’s get started. I didn’t leave you much to go on today, so I’m figuring either you all spent the last ten minutes on Snapchat—“ She looked up from where she’d been setting out her lecture notes and glared in Donny’s direction. “—Or making inappropriate comments.” Everyone laughed, including Jamie. Although not part of his major, Sociology of Emotions was his favorite class this semester. He rolled his shoulders, ignoring the dull ache that was a constant companion, and settled
in to enjoy the hour. 

 Review

I loved this story. Great concept and a lot of fun. I remember when I was a little girl and my sister and I would tie ourselves together and try and move around the house. It would last like twenty minutes before we wanted to kill each other. In this book we have Jamie, a jock who is closeted, and Seth who is open and proud. A project at school has put them together and handcuffed for five days! It puts my two hours to shame!

These two guys are so beyond opposite in so many ways. So in that aspect it very much became an enemies to lovers, in my opinion. Jamie has a lot of struggles to overcome. His own anger with his sexuality topples over onto Seth. He comes off homophobic and is quite mean to Seth. He throws him to the wolves a few times with his teammates and such. It broke my heart. Seth is such a loving and beautiful character and that made what Jamie did over and over that much more cruel.

Of course this is an HEA so we get to see a better side of Jamie and Seth gets his Prince but I would have loved to see Seth make it harder for Jamie. I know if the tables were turned no matter how many times Jamie made my heart soar when we were alone I couldn't live with someone who so easily would hurt me to save face. But, happy ending! So yay!

Jenna Kendrick wrote a sweet and emotional story. There's some angst but I'd say it's more anger than sadness so get your pitchforks ready before you read it. I enjoyed this a lot and I hope there's more of these guys as I felt there were some things unresolved. This could be an interesting series.

EXCERPT # 2

Seth looked over at Jamie as they crossed the once-again hushed campus, students breaking off from the pack as they approached their own dorms. After taking off in his usual rush, Jamie had shortened his strides to match Seth’s, but his long fingers repeatedly squeezed around the hat he continued to hold as if barely containing his temper. “Mari was only taking a wild-assed guess.” Seth attempted to break the silence. Jamie glared at him and picked up the pace. The short walk felt like a death march. Seth’s thoughts kept cadence. Left foot, Jamie’s voice in his head whispering “I’m gay.” Right foot, a reminder of how conflicted he’d felt all day, wagging his tail like a puppy at Jamie’s praise and then feeling like he’d soiled the carpet when that affection had been withdrawn. This was why he didn’t do people. Except Mari. And she’d turned on him, too, and gone out of her way to turn Jamie against him just when Seth’s tail started twitching again. I’ve spent too much time with Grand’s dogs. They climbed the three flights of stairs to his room, and Jamie shifted his feet impatiently while Seth shoved numb fingers into his jeans pocket. Nerves and cold made him drop the key. With a grunt, Jamie bent to retrieve it, then hip-checked Seth aside to insert it into the lock. He pushed the door open so hard, it bounced off the wall, and he raised his arm in time to prevent it from hitting his face on the rebound. Seth was leery of entering the room with the clearly angry guy, but Jamie didn’t give him any choice, tugging him inside before slamming the door shut. “Jamie, I’m sor—“ Jamie pushed him roughly against the back of the door. Seth’s head hit with a crack. Oh, shit! As he raised his arms to defend himself, Jamie’s lips crashed against his own. Seth’s breath left him in a whoosh, sudden fear replaced just as quickly with excitement. Jamie’s tongue dove into Seth’s mouth, its hot sweetness bringing his entire body to attention. When Seth tilted his head to a better angle, Jamie slid his hands up Seth’s arms and drove his long fingers into his hair, forcing him to stay still as Jamie tasted and explored, nipping Seth’s lips with his teeth, stroking Seth’s tongue with his own. If their first kiss had been a shy hello, this was an entire conversation. Jamie’s hands enveloped his head like a helmet, palms cupping his jaw on both sides and thumbs stroking over his cheekbones while his fingers rubbed gently at the spot where Seth’s skull met the door, soothing the hurt. His hands were icy from the snowball fight, and Seth shivered. The goosebumps on his skin increased the sensation as Jamie’s body pressed against him. Even wet and chilled through, feeling the hardness of Jamie’s jeans-covered cock acted as a match to kindling, instantly heating him up. He wanted to move, to get more of that delicious friction, but squeezed between Jamie and the door, all he could do was feel whatever Jamie chose to allow him. With Jamie’s hands holding his head still, the only place Seth could rest his own within the confines of the tether were around Jamie’s neck.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jenna Kendrick writes contemporary, new adult, and paranormal romance about smart guys with a propensity for snark. Jenna went to a small college in the woods of Western Massachusetts, where she alternated between bare feet and hiking boots and used dining hall trays as a mode of transportation in the winter. She fell in love with creative writing after writing a satirical essay to get out of yet another literary analysis assignment. Unable to choose a coast or climate zone, she bounced around the country before settling in Upstate New York. She lives with her husband and several furry creatives, some of whom think of her desk as their own. This may be why Jenna's developed a sudden urge to write about shifters.

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A Piece of Me: Jenna Kendrick

My monthly feature; A Piece of Me has the wonderful and talented Jenna Kendrick as my guest poster. I can't think of a better person to be my last feature for the year. Jenna wrote an absolutely fabulous post this month and I'm sure you'll all love it as much as I did.

Baring My Flesh

This past year has been the most exhilarating, frustrating, exciting, humbling, and scariest of my and multiple “under-the-bed” books which will never see the light of day, I released two novellas and a novel this year. Well, two novellas, at least. Make Me Believe came out in July, and “The life. After years of writing non-fiction tech books and honing my fiction writing skills by way of fanfic Eighth Night” came out in November as part of the Home for the Holidays anthology. My novel, Stuck with You, however, has been the most jinxed release I’ve ever experienced—and that includes the Photoshop book that was released the day its publisher filed for bankruptcy and the FrontPage book that had another author’s name on the cover. Stuck with You has been, in a word, stuck. Originally scheduled for release in October, it’s been stuck with retail site bugs, formatting software bugs, and editors who bugged out. As I write this, the book is once again Under Review on the retail sites and should be live any minute now. I’ll believe it when I see it—you’ll probably hear the cheers from your house when I do. And I’m sure the friends who’ve listened to me threatening to quit and get a job as a bank teller will give a sigh of relief.

Of course, the book going live is only the start. Putting out a book is like undressing in front of someone for the first time. I want to make a good impression. Is the book mechanically correct—is my underwear clean? Is the story compelling—does my partner like what they see? Did I do justice to my characters and bring the story to a satisfying conclusion—is this going to be a one-time hookup or the start of a relationship? Did I do justice to the LGBTQ community as a whole?

Wait, I’ve got a whole community riding on how I bare my flesh—I mean, how I wrote this book? Of course not. But I do sometimes feel like the whole community is going to judge whether I’m a worthy ally by how I write my books and how I present myself as an author.

I’ve included LGBTQ characters in my work from the first story I wrote for the Writing & Thinking Workshop my college required before freshman year. Many years later, I started reading gay romance and realized that I could write entire books about these characters and give them their own happily ever after. That’s when I truly discovered my voice as a writer. Writing male/male romance has made me a better person—I stand up for myself and take more risks than I ever have before. I’m grateful to have the opportunity to share my voice and experience this personal growth. At the same time, I’m not a gay man, and as someone writing about a group of people I’m not a part of, I feel a responsibility to tell these stories well and respectfully. If I do those who identify with my characters a disservice, I expect to be called out on it.

As someone who’s interacting with readers and fellow writers, I also realize my personal behavior is being judged alongside my words. I wouldn’t consider myself a worthy ally if I didn’t respect the community, including those who show their rough edges in public. I don’t have to like everyone or agree with what they say, but I’ll always defend anyone’s right to speak up when they feel wronged by others, including those within our genre.

I also hurt along with everyone else when someone takes advantage of those in our community by creating false personas and accepting gifts, money, and emotional support intended for someone who doesn’t really exist. This is stealing. They stole from the readers who bought into their lies. They stole from real wounded veterans, homeless young men and women, people with mental illness—those who might have received those gifts and checks from the generous readers who sent them to a fictional construct, instead. They stole from authors, many of whom have felt compelled to disclose their real names, ages, the gender of their cats, and what they had for dinner on the night of October 14 (blood samples provided upon request) so as not to be tarred with the same brush. And they stole from honest people who are now given the side-eye when posting about their partners, special needs children, or even their travel plans because selfish actors have caused mistrust of all. Given how at home I feel in this community of readers and writers, I resented it the first time my delusion that we’re all coming from a place of authenticity and integrity was shattered. I resent even more that this is becoming so commonplace that we now just give a heavy sigh and say we suspected as much.

As I bare my flesh—I mean, release my book—this week (please let it go live this week and not become collateral damage in some bizarre Martian takeover of the internet), I want to say thank you to K.A. Mitchell, Felice Stevens, and Kade Boehme for welcoming me, offering advice, and delivering kicks to the tush when warranted. You’ve become some of my closest friends. And thank you to the gay romance community as a whole for giving my voice an outlet. I hope my underwear is clean, all the naughty bits in place, and that this is the start of a long relationship. 

 Author Bio

Jenna Kendrick writes male/male new adult and contemporary romance, her favorite genre to read. She lives in Upstate New York, where she spends the better part of the year trying to stay warm and dry. When she's not writing, she reads, has lost count of the number of times she's watched The Princess Bride and The Avengers, and drinks more coffee and tea than she'd care to admit. She shares her home office with her dog, Tally, and her cats, Loki and Tamiris.

Jenna spent most of her class time in high school writing bad poetry and short stories in which her teachers were the villains. She began writing in earnest in college, putting it aside for a few years to work as a teacher, paralegal, and product manager for several online services. In addition to writing fiction, Jenna also writes nonfiction technical books under another name.

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