Title: I Spy the Boy Next Door
Author: Samantha Armstrong
Publication date: May 25th, 2019
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
Four p.m. spy sessions are the highlight of Mallory Taylor’s day. Observing the boy next door—one with a body and an attitude to match—has her perched beside her window so often it can’t be healthy.
When she finally convinces her mom to let her go to public school, Mallory comes face to face with her neighbor, Troy Parker. And he makes it clear he wants nothing to do with her. His rejection awakens a newfound tenacity and maybe even a touch of recklessness. But when Troy starts to show up when she needs him the most, Mallory can’t help but wonder if there’s more to him than he’s let on.
Taking chances, breaking rules, and following her heart is all new to Mallory. And no one warned her just how fickle hearts can be. When she discovers that Troy isn’t at all the guy she imagined him to be, secrets rise to the surface that will change her life forever.
**This is a standalone mature YA/new adult contemporary romance.
EXCERPT:We’re about ten minutes into the lesson when everything around me stops and spins. I don’t know which because all I can see is him.
“Mr. Parker, nice of you to join us,” Mr. Brown says.
I stalked him a few years ago on Facebook to see if we were in the same grade, but I wasn’t expecting to be in the same class.
My day just got a hell of a lot better.
I press my palm to my chest, feeling the familiar beat. I press harder, hoping the pressure will soften the racket inside of me.
He slides a note onto Mr. Brown’s desk, barely acknowledging him before returning his attention to his phone. His fingers fly across the screen as he walks down the aisle.
Please look at me. Please look at me. Please look at me, I silently chant, but when he turns and heads directly for me, my prayers abruptly change. Don’t look at me. Don’t look at me. Don’t look at me.
My heart’s thumping so hard against my ribcage, I’m losing air.
This is the moment.
I don’t know what to do. I’ve been envisioning it for so long, and now that it’s about to happen, everything I’ve ever planned I would do or say has gone out the window. I start clicking my pen, then tapping my foot. I should be focusing on the lesson at the front of the room, but I can’t take my eyes off him. He’s wearing a hood, but I can see his hair slipping out from under it. Dark jeans hang low on his hips, and a bag sits snug on his back.
He’s only a few steps away. I swallow.
He’s in front of me. He looks up.
My breath catches in my throat.
His eyes widen, then narrow. All these years later, he still doesn’t smile at me.
And I realize, I sat in an already claimed seat.
Born and raised in New Zealand, Samantha Armstrong prefers to be tucked away writing whenever she can -- or, rather, whenever her adorable yet demanding baby boy allows.
A normal day for her includes diapers--lots of them--walks with both babies (i.e. human baby and dog baby), writing between naps, and staying up late to write even more. Then somehow fitting all the other stuff in between.
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