Book Blitz & Giveaway: Lost In Us by Layla Hagen

BookCrushin is happy to bring you today’s blitz in conjunction with Xpresso Book Tours for Lost In Us by Layla Hagen! You will find all the information for this newly released new adult title as well as an excerpt and a few awesome giveaways!

 

Lost In Us by Layla Hagen

Category: New Adult, Contemporary Romance
Publication: February 17, 2014
Purchase: Amazon

Serena has learned to live with her past, locking her secrets and nightmares deep inside her. But when her boyfriend of six years abruptly leaves her, she’s catapulted back into pain, nursing a broken heart. When indulging in mountains of chocolate doesn’t work, Serena decides the best way to deal with her shattered heart is to indulge in something else. A rebound . . .

 

The night she swaps her usual Sprite for tequila, she meets James. The encounter is breathtaking.
Electrifying.
And best not repeated.

 

James is a successful entrepreneur in Silicon Valley. A man who has amassed a fortune by taking risks. A man who has shunned commitment completely, and still does. He’s the exact opposite of Serena. But sometimes opposites attract. Sometimes they give in to burning passion. Sometimes opposites are perfect for each other.

 

James is everything her damaged soul could want. His kisses are intoxicating, his touch out of this world. He makes her forget. He grants her peace from her pain. But as they grow closer, Serena discovers she isn’t the only one with a past. James carries the scars of a past much darker than hers. One that has left him damaged, hurt, and wary of love. A past that gives him the power to shatter her.

 

Now James and Serena must find a way to mend one another. Or risk losing each other forever.

Excerpt:

There are three reasons tequila is my new favorite drink.

One: my ex-boyfriend hates it.

Two: downing a shot looks way sexier than sipping my usual Sprite.

Three: it might give me the courage to do something my ex-boyfriend would hate even more than tequila—getting myself a rebound.

“You need someone hot, hot, hot,” my best friend Jess says, plunking her glass on the sleek counter and beckoning the bartender to prepare another round.

I grimace as the last drops of liquor burn my throat. “Define hot.”

“Tall, tan, six-pack.” She spins on her bar stool, turning toward the buzzing room.

“Every polo player at Stanford fits that description,” I say.

“Precisely.”

She bursts into a torrent of giggles that makes me wonder if I shouldn’t accidentally-on- purpose knock over the fresh round of shots the bartender sets in front of me, or my big night might just end up with me carrying an incoherent Jess to our apartment, as usual.

“Stanford’s entire team is here. Have your pick, Serena.”

I twirl around, facing a sea of people. Of course the entire team is here. Almost every Stanford student is here tonight. Who would miss the first bash of the summer term? For Jess and me, it’s the last first bash ever, since we are graduating in a few months. I push my chest forward, the way Jess does it, fully aware that I won’t have nearly the same effect she has. My black tank top, which she insisted I wear, doesn’t do me justice, revealing far too much of my barely-there cleavage, despite the definitely-there Victoria’s Secret push-up bra.

Jess twirls a blonde strand of her hair between her fingers, looking around with a confidence that can be neither replicated nor simulated. I take a deep breath and push the curtain of my black hair behind my shoulder. One look at the polo team and I know this was a bad, bad idea. The prospect of talking to one of those over-tanned giants, let alone flirting, has me hyperventilating. I don’t know how to flirt. Last time I did it I was a high school junior, and I sucked at it. Also, I thought I would never have to do it again. But six years later, Michael decided his Australian coworker’s seemingly endless legs were not to be resisted anymore, so here I am, a college senior, facing my most daunting exam yet.

I better not fail.

Yet as the number of mind-blowing, gorgeous girls floating around the players increases by the second, all vying for their attention, I dearly wish I could escape and cuddle in my bed, surrounded by mountains of Toblerone chocolate, watching The Lord of the Rings extended edition for the seventh time in three weeks.

I do a quick mental assessment of the probability of escaping without Jess catching on. It’s not good. Besides, she will need me to carry her home, so I’d better not leave her alone. I almost start designing a plan to convince her to bolt together, when someone catches my attention.

He’s tall, with dark, messy hair. Judging by the lavish gazes that the blonde at the next table and the redhead on his right throw him, I’m not imaging his perfectly toned chest and arms. On a hotness scale from one to ten, I’d put him between fifteen and sixteen.

I lean in to Jess and say in a low voice, “I bet he fits your hotness requirements.”

She follows my gaze and starts giggling again. “James Cohen?”

“You know him?” Please don’t say you dated him. Please don’t.

“I’ve read an article about him. He looks hotter than the feature’s picture. You of all people must have heard of him, too,” she teases.

“The name does sound familiar,” I admit, trying to hide my relief. I wrack my brain for a few seconds. And then it hits me. “Oh yeah, Stanford’s golden boy. Every professor in my economics classes mentions him at least once a month. The poster child for successful serial entrepreneurs.”

“Serial womanizers more likely,” Jess smirks as he bends to the redhead, whispering something in her ear, sliding his hand playfully down her back. For some reason, the sight of them erases any desire to keep looking for potential prey, so I swirl on my stool back to the bar.

“He graduated a few years ago. What’s he doing in a student bar?” I ask.

“Alumni sometimes come to semester opening parties,” Jess says with a shrug. “Right. I need to pee.” She springs from her stool, swaying when her feet reach the floor.

“Do you want me to come with you?” I ask at once.

“No, no, I’m fine,” she chortles. “I guess I shouldn’t have drunk those cocktails before you arrived.”

“That’s right, you shouldn’t have.”

“But the guy buying them was so cute,” she calls over her shoulder. I grimace as she stumbles into a couple on her way to the restroom.

I turn my attention to the two tequila shots in front of me, and open my mouth to tell the bartender we won’t be having them after all, when a voice says, “I’d recommend you try it with orange slices and cinnamon.”

“Excuse me?”

I look sideways and almost fall of my seat. It’s him. And up close, it’s obvious I gave him far too few points. His striking blue eyes and full lips, curled in a deliciously conceited smile, earn him at least a twenty on that hotness scale.

“Tequila,” he points at the two glasses. “It tastes much better with orange and cinnamon than lemon and salt.”

“Thanks for the tip.” I flash my teeth in the hope they’ll detract his attention from my plunging neckline, though I never heard of teeth trumping boobs.

“OH MY GOODNESS. This book was excellent. There were absolutely no reasons to give this novel less than five stars. I was not expecting this. Lost in Us is a New Adult Romance and it is COLLEEN HOOVER good! Yes, I said it – you could put this book up against the leading New Adult Romance authors and it would hold its own.” J.P.Grider, author of The Honor Trilogy

“Layla blew me away with her début novel Lost in Us.  I wasn’t sure what to expect when I started this book and by the end of the first chapter I was hooked. Funny, emotional and heart wrenching.” Shona Reid, reviewer at Fiona’s Book Review Blog

 

Author Bio: Layla Hagen

 

Giveaways:

Leave us a comment (be sure to enter on the rafflecopter) for a chance to win an eBook of Lost In Us by Layla Hagen – 3 copies, Open Internationally!

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Tour Wide Giveaway: $100 Amazon Gift Card or Paypal cash (Open INT) a Rafflecopter giveaway