Title: A Love
Letter to Whiskey
Author: Kandi
Steiner
Genre: Contemporary
Romance
Release Date: October
13, 2016
PRAISE FOR AMAZON BESTSELLING
A LOVE LETTER TO WHISKEY
"Ten stars for
this brilliantly written love story. It's raw. It's real. It's flawed. It's
simply perfection." - New York Times Bestselling Author Kim Karr
"A Love Letter
To Whiskey starts out with a slow burn, but before you know it you are
intoxicated and unable to stop until you reach the end. Once you hit the end,
you are completely drunk in love with Steiner's words. Her best work to date
and my favorite read of 2016." - Brittainy C. Cherry, Amazon #1
Bestselling Author
"You will savor
Whiskey to the very last drop, and the hangover will be worth every
heart-wrenching second. Steiner's writing is as smooth as scotch, as heady as
whiskey, with a sweet afterburn that will leave you addicted." -
Bestselling Author Staci Hart
"A Love Letter
to Whiskey will get you drunk on feels. Wildly intoxicating, I could not put it
down. An absolute masterpiece for angst lovers." - Angie, Angie's
Dreamy Reads
Blurb
It’s crazy how fast
the buzz comes back after you’ve been sober for so long.
Whiskey stood there, on my doorstep, just like he had one year before. Except this time, there was no rain, no anger, no wedding invitation — it was just us.
It was just him — the old friend, the easy smile, the twisted solace wrapped in a glittering bottle.
It was just me — the alcoholic, pretending like I didn’t want to taste him, realizing too quickly that months of being clean didn’t make me crave him any less.
But we can’t start here.
No, to tell this story right, we need to go back.
Back to the beginning.
Back to the very first drop.
This is my love letter to Whiskey. I only hope he reads it.
Whiskey stood there, on my doorstep, just like he had one year before. Except this time, there was no rain, no anger, no wedding invitation — it was just us.
It was just him — the old friend, the easy smile, the twisted solace wrapped in a glittering bottle.
It was just me — the alcoholic, pretending like I didn’t want to taste him, realizing too quickly that months of being clean didn’t make me crave him any less.
But we can’t start here.
No, to tell this story right, we need to go back.
Back to the beginning.
Back to the very first drop.
This is my love letter to Whiskey. I only hope he reads it.
Purchase Links
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Excerpt
The first time I
tasted Whiskey, I fell flat on my face.
Literally.
I was drunk from the
very first sip, and I guess that should have been my sign to stay away.
Jenna and I were
running the trail around the lake near her house, sweat dripping into our eyes
from the intense South Florida heat. It was early September, but in South
Florida, it might as well have been July. There was no “boots and scarves”
season, unless you counted the approximately six weeks in January and February
where the temperature dropped below eighty degrees.
As it was, we were
battling ninety-plus degrees, me trying to be a show off and prove I could keep
up with Jenna’s cheerleading training program. She had finally made the varsity
squad, and with that privilege came ridiculous standards she had to uphold. I
hated running — absolutely loathed it. I would much rather have been
on my surf board that day. But fortunately for Jenna, she had a competitive
best friend who never turned down a challenge. So when she asked me to train
with her, I’d agreed eagerly, even knowing I’d have screaming ribs and calves
by the end of the day.
I saw him first.
I was just a few
steps ahead of Jenna, and I’d been staring down at my hot pink sneakers as they
hit the concrete. When I looked up, he was about fifty feet away, and even from
that distance I could tell I was in trouble. He seemed sort of average at first
— brown hair, lean build, soaked white running shirt — but the closer he got,
the more I realized just how edible he was. I noticed the shift in the muscles
of his legs as he ran, the way his hair bounced slightly, how he pressed his
lips together in concentration as he neared us.
I looked over my
shoulder, attempting to waggle my eyebrows at Jenna and give her the secret
best friend code for “hot guy up ahead”, but she had stopped to tie her shoes.
And when I turned back around, it was too late.
I smacked into him —
hard — and fell to the pavement, rolling a bit to soften the fall. He cursed
and I groaned, more from embarrassment than pain. I wish I could say I
gracefully picked myself up, smiled radiantly, and asked him for his number,
but the truth is I lost the ability to do anything the minute I looked up at
him.
It was an unfamiliar,
warm ache that spread through my chest as I used my hand to shield the sun
streaming in behind his silhouette, just how you’d expect the first sip of
whiskey to feel. He was bent over, hand outstretched, saying something that
wasn’t registering because I had somehow managed to slip my hand into his and
just that one touch had set my skin on fire.
Handsome wasn’t the
right word to describe him, but it was all I kept thinking as I traced his
features. His hair was a sort of mocha color, damp at the roots, falling onto
his forehead just slightly. His eyes were wide — almost too round — and a
mixture of gold, green, and the deepest brown. I didn’t coin the nickname Whiskey
until much later, but it was that moment that I saw it for the first time —
those were whiskey eyes. The kind of eyes you get lost in. The kind that drink
you in. He had the longest lashes and a firm, square jaw. It was so hard, the
edges so clean that I would have sworn he was angry with me if it weren’t for
the smile on his face.He was still talking as my eyes fell over his broad chest
before snapping back up to his sideways grin.
“Oh my God, are you
fucking blind?!” Jenna’s voice snapped me from my haze as she shoved Whiskey
out of the way and latched onto my hand, ripping me back to standing position.
I’d barely caught my balance before she whipped around to continue her
scolding. “How about you brush that long ass hair out of your eyes and watch where
you’re going, huh champ?”
Oh no.
I didn’t even have
time to call dibs, I couldn’t even think the word, let alone say it,
before it was too late. I watched it, in slow motion, as Whiskey fell for my
best friend before I even had the chance to say a single word to him.
Jenna was standing
tall, arms crossed, one hip popped in her usual fashion as she waited for him
to defend himself. This was her protocol — it was one of the reasons we got
along. We were both what you’d call “spitfires”, but Jenna had the distinct
advantage of being cripplingly gorgeous on top of having an attitude. She
flipped her long, wavy blonde ponytail behind her and cocked a brow.
And then he did, too.
His smile grew wider
as he met her eyes, and it was the same look I’d watched fall over guy after
countless guy. Jenna was a unicorn, and men were enamored by her. As they
should have been — she had platinum blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, legs for
days and a personality to boot. Now, before you go thinking that I was the insecure
best friend - I had it going on, too. I worked hard, I was talented - just not
at the things traditional high school boys valued.
But we’ll get to
that.
“Hi,” Whiskey finally
said, extending his hand to Jenna this time. His eyes were warm, smile inviting
— if I had to pick the right word for him, just one, I’d say charming. He just
oozed charm. “I’m Jamie.”
“Well, Jamie,
maybe you should make an appointment with the eye doctor before you run over
another innocent jogger. And you owe Brecks an apology.” She nodded to me then
and I cringed at my name, wondering why she felt the need to spill it at all.
She always called me B — everyone did — so why did she choose the moment I was
face to face with the first boy to ever make my heart accelerate to use my full
name?
Jamie was still
grinning, eying Jenna, trying to figure her out, but he turned to me after a
moment with that same crooked smile. “I’m sorry, I should have been watching
where I was going.” He said the words with conviction, but lifted his brows on
that last line because he and I both knew who wasn’t paying attention to the
trail, and he wasn’t the guilty party.
“It’s fine,” I
murmured, because for some reason I was still having a difficult time finding
my voice. Jamie tilted his head just a fraction, his eyes hard on me this time,
and I felt naked beneath his gaze. I’d never had anyone look at me that way —
completely zeroed in. It was unnerving and exhilarating, too.
But before I could
latch onto the feeling, he turned back to Jenna, their eyes meeting as slow
smiles spread on both of their faces. I’d seen it a million times, but this was
the first time I felt sick watching it happen.
I saw him first, but
it didn’t matter.
Because he saw her.
Author Bio
Kandi Steiner is a
Creative Writing and Advertising/Public Relations graduate from the University
of Central Florida living in Tampa with her husband. Kandi works full time as a
social media specialist, but also works part time as a Zumba fitness instructor
and blackjack dealer.
Kandi started writing
back in the 4th grade after reading the first Harry Potter installment. In 6th
grade, she wrote and edited her own newspaper and distributed to her
classmates. Eventually, the principal caught on and the newspaper was quickly
halted, though Kandi tried fighting for her “freedom of press.” She took
particular interest in writing romance after college, as she has always been a
die hard hopeless romantic (like most girls brought up on Disney movies).
When Kandi isn’t
working or writing, you can find her reading books of all kinds, talking with
her extremely vocal cat, and spending time with her friends and family. She
enjoys beach days, movie marathons, live music, craft beer and sweet wine – not
necessarily in that order.
Author Links
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