BLOG TOUR: Finding Mr. Darcy: High School Edition by Erin Butler- EXCERPT & GIVEAWAY

AuthorErin Butler
Publication Date: 09/16/14
Publisher: Swoon Romance
Blurb Description: Sixteen-year-old Liza Johnson takes fangirl to a whole new level of crazy when she decides to take dating advice from her literary hero: Jane Austen.

With the help of her best friends, Liza sheds her ancient-speak and complete Austen wardrobe for something a bit more modern in an attempt at finding her very own Mr. Darcy.

Enter Will, the new kid and Liza's Darcy incarnate. Add her BFF's ex to mix and the sexy Brit who kisses with an accent, and Liza is in trouble.

So, what's a girl to do? Without her mom to go to relationship advice, Liza turns to the only person she can truly trust with matters of the heart via her mother's copy of COMPLETED WORKS OF JANE AUSTEN.

It's too bad Austen's heroines have never played Spin the Bottle or Seven Minutes in Heaven. Liza's determined to find her true Austen-esque happy ending, but if she can't trust herself instead of books, she just might end up in her own tragic love story.

Add to Goodreads *** Buy Links: *** Amazon

About the Author
Erin Butler is lucky enough to have two jobs she truly loves. As a librarian, she gets to work with books all day long, and as an author, Erin uses her active imagination to write the kinds of books she enjoys reading. Young Adult and New Adult books are her favorites, but she especially loves the ones with kissing scenes.

Erin lives in Central New York with her very understanding husband, a stepson, and doggie BFF, Maxie. She prefers to spend her time indoors reading and writing, but will venture out for chocolate and sunshine. She is the author of BLOOD HEX, a YA paranormal, HOW WE LIVED, a contemporary New Adult novel, and FINDING MR. DARCY: HIGH SCHOOL EDITION, a contemporary YA.

Author Links: *** Website *** Goodreads *** Twitter *** Facebook

**GIVEAWAY**

a Rafflecopter giveaway

**READ ON FOR AN EXCERPT**




Excerpt 1
The phone rang again and I immediately thought of Janie. My heart popped up through my throat and caught on a breath. She was here though, right next to me. Safe. Her face still red and covered in dried, crusty tears.
I fumbled for the cordless.
“Liza, it’s me. I’m…” he hesitated, probably waiting to hear if I would say Who? or maybe, Which one? “I’m outside your house. Meet me downstairs?”
“Right now?” I shouted more than I’d meant to. My head pulsed in alarm, and a soft groan escaped Janie’s lips. I took a deep breath. “It’s like, eleven,” I whispered, more calm now.
“Yeah, I’m out in my car. I…I need to see you.”
Janie murmured and shifted as I got out of bed. I’d have to fight her for a spot when I got back. Or I could just suck it up, grab a quilt out of the closet, and sleep on the floor.
Outside, the air chilled right through my flimsy pajamas and pricked my bare skin. I tucked Dad’s oversized U of M sweatshirt I found on the back of the couch around my shivering body. My breath made these little pockets of fog in the air as I tiptoed across the frost-covered lawn to the street. The houses that mirrored mine on all sides stood quiet.
I slipped into the passenger seat and turned to him.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
“Did I wake you?” His hair was on the messy side as if he’d run his hands through it a thousand times.
“Yeah, a little. I mean, yeah, you woke me. Janie spent the night.”
He nodded and stared straight through me. I’d never seen that look before. It swept into my brain, muddling things. He leaned over, grabbed the back of my head, and brought my mouth to his.
It was soft and sweet. Emotions tangled in and out of our lips. Everything left unsaid and undone conveyed in the span of a few moments. It should be like taking a long walk through a beautiful garden, floated through my scattered thoughts. It wasn’t exactly like that, but it was nice. It was good. It was…pointless.
I stood on the curb and waved until the taillights turned at the end of the block. I made the decision then on that short trek back to my room. I knew what I wanted. Now I just had to figure out how to tell everyone.

Excerpt 2
Buzzing.
I heard it as I moved closer. Each step raised the tiny hairs all over my body until I tingled. I fought the urge to turn around, but Janie would kill me. Again.
The humming pitched higher. My heart detonated in my chest. Just around the corner and…I was there.
Lunch.
I tugged my backpack tighter and held the straps out in front so I felt the security of it on my back. The monkeys were crazy today, jumping, screaming, laughing. All of them, the Geeks, Preps, Loners, Freaks, Smarties, Drama-Ramas, and Jockheads—all high—all with serious issues of ADHD and all put on this earth at the same time, designated to this lunchroom at this very minute, to bug the crap out of me.
My skin itched.
I skirted into the room a little more. Just in time to catch this little, lovely, mind-blowing comment from Christopher Kronin, Head Jock. “Hey man, did you check out Miranda today? I swear I saw some cleeeeeavage!” Or, as I like to call him, Head Tool in the Jerkoff Parade.
Wow. I’m sure that’ll be on our next science quiz. Question 22: Was or was not Miranda Ames displaying her cleavage last Wednesday? Trick Question! Correct answer: When isn’t Miranda Ames displaying massive amounts of cleavage?
DingDingDing. Insert cheeky, red makeupy, overenthusiastic host face. “My god, Liza Johnson, you are the smartest thing since sliced bread.” Insert my feigned embarrassment and tiny Miss America wave. “Thank you. Thank you.”
I smirked, wishing I’d saved that one for Janie. Too late. They never came out the same when spoken out loud. If Janie lived in my head with me, it would make things so much easier.
A tap on my shoulder brought me back to reality. I turned and looked down into the eyes of the mind-blower himself. “Um hello, freak? Why are you standing in the middle of the lunchroom smiling to yourself? You’re not about to go all Carrie on us, are you?” When was Christopher going to give it up already? I hadn’t said anything yet about his side escapades. He laughed his big, jock laugh. One of those mocking ones that really made your hand ball up into a fist and fantasize about your knuckles leaving pretty pink marks on his face.

Instead, I said, “Um, s-sorry,” and skittered away. I picked up the pace; dodged monkeys who already carried empty trays, and scanned heads for streaks of pink before they decided to fling their own feces at one another.


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