No Apologies by Sybil Bartel Blog Tour and GIveaway

No Apologies

by Sybil Bartel

No Apologies Synopsis:

Never apologize

Hard-edged rocker Graham Allen has it all. He’s flush with cash from playing bass in a band by night and restoring classic cars by day. And there are plenty of women willing to share his bed for a night, complication-free. Perfect, because if there’s anything he learned from his past, it was to never get attached—to anything. So when bartender Carly Sullivan flashes her innocent smile, Graham isn’t prepared for what happens next.

Never fall in love

Two rules, that’s all Graham has—never apologize and never fall in love. He knows Carly is everything he should avoid. Cheerful and sweet, she has “relationship” written all over her. But Graham can’t stay away from her probing questions and concerned blue eyes.

When Graham discovers Carly is hiding a crushing secret, he’s prepared to risk it all. Until in one single moment, everything changes and Graham’s past threatens to collide with his future. His life is crumbling down around him, and soon no apology in the world can save him.

He should’ve known to walk away.

Sybil Bartel Bio:

I grew up in Northern California with my head in a book and my feet in the sand. I dreamt of becoming a painter but the heady scent of libraries with their shelves full of books drew me into the world of storytelling. I love the New Adult genre, but really, any story about a love so desperately wrong and impossibly beautiful makes me swoon.

I now live in Southern Florida and while I don’t get to read as much as I like, I still bury my toes in the sand. If I’m not writing or fighting to contain the banana plantation in my backyard, you can find me spending time with my handsomely tattooed husband, my brilliantly practical son and a mischievous miniature boxer…

But Seriously?

Here are ten things you really want to know about me.

I grew up a faculty brat. I can swear like a sailor. I love men in uniform. I hate being told what to do. I can do your taxes (but don’t ask). The Bird Market in Hong Kong freaks me out. My favorite word is desperate…or dirty, or both—I can’t decide. I have a thing for muscle cars. But never reply on me for driving directions, ever. And I have a new book boyfriend every week—don’t tell my husband

Excerpt:

One of the baristas who’d been here every day dumped a bin on a table next to us and began throwing dishes in. “He’s been here all week, Carly.” She said it like it pissed her off.

Carly’s eyes snapped to mine. “You’ve been coming here all week?”

I didn’t move, I didn’t blink.

“For me?” Confusion worried her brow.

I gave a slight nod.

“Oh.” Her lips formed a perfect O.

I didn’t have words, I had actions.

She searched my face and I knew she saw every single emotion I carefully hid from the world. I felt raw and exposed and there was nowhere else I wanted to be in this moment.

She slowly nodded and her face softened. “I’m not mad at you.”

A hundred pounds of shit lifted off my shoulders and I took my first full breath since that night. “Hummingbird.” It came out sounding exactly like what it was: a plea.

She took a stilted breath, as if she didn’t hear me. “I have to expect that people will read my work. If I forward my stories, they’ll get forwarded, again and again and maybe even copied or plagiarized. I can’t change that. Being a writer is about wearing your heart on your sleeve. Everyone will know my thoughts, and most will make assumptions. I can’t let it hurt me or even affect me because if I do, I’ll never make it as a writer. So, I’m not mad at you, at what you did. I just…I feel betrayed.”

The weight, the ache, the poison, it was all back. But worse.

“Jesus,” I whispered. Say the word. She needed the word. She needed the words to match. I knew that. But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t give this perfect, fragile, strong bird everything I had. I would have nothing left. I would be nothing. Honest, hurt, bottomless blue eyes that were more beautiful than anything I’d ever seen waited for me to do the right thing. So I did what I should have done a year ago. I turned to walk away.

“Graham.”

Goddamn it. Keep moving, one foot then another, just keep going. But my heart spoke and my body followed. I turned around. And wished like hell I hadn’t. The pain I saw was crushing. “I never meant to hurt you, Hummingbird.”

“You’re walking away?” Disbelief, anger, hurt, it was all in her expression.

“I betrayed you.” I didn’t care if everyone in this place heard us. I was beyond caring what other people thought. I only cared what she thought.

“Please.” Her voice broke. “Stop.”

Angry, at myself, at her, at this whole fucked-up situation, I snapped. I took a step toward her and forced myself to speak in a hushed tone. “Stop what? Hurting you? Isn’t it clear I can’t do that?”

She didn’t back down. “It’s better to be sorry than to be right.”

“I’m neither.”

“I forgive you,” she whispered.

I walked out.

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