Sunday, July 13, 2014

Cover Reveal: Assumption by Aurora Rose Reynolds


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Title: Assumption (An Underground Kings Novel #1)
Author:  Aurora Rose Reynolds
Release Date:  5th September 2014

 as·sump·tion: a thing that is accepted as true or as certain to happen, without proof They say when you assume that you make an ass out of you and me.


 Kenton Mayson learned this lesson firsthand when he made assumptions about Autumn Freeman and the kind of woman she is based on what little information he had. What he finds out is she’s not only beautiful, but also smart, funny, a fighter, and exactly the kind of woman he wants to share his life with.

Autumn made assumptions of her own about Kenton, and now he needs to prove her wrong in order to protect her and their future.


Cover Artist: Melissa Gil
Photographer: Scott Hoover


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Prologue


I see you judging me. I know what you’re thinking. She has to be a slut; she works at a strip club and takes off her clothes for money. Yes! I work at a strip club, and you may think I’m a whore for showing off my body, but this is a talent that has been forced down my throat since I was a young child. Look pretty and smile. I put on a show for those who choose to watch. However long I’m on stage, I’m not even me. It’s what I imagine an out of body experience would be like—a performance, nothing more, nothing less. The people watching make assumptions about who they think I am, or cook up a story in their heads of whom they want me to be. I’m just another beautiful face. 


Beautiful. I hate that fucking word. Who gives a crap if someone is attractive on the outside if they are dying inside? My whole life has been about what I look like. I swear, the only reason my mother kept me was to have a real-life, living, breathing doll she could dress up and control, which is the exact reason why as soon as I became eighteen, I got as far away from her special brand of crazy as I could. That’s also why I don’t date. The first thing guys do is look at me and see a pretty face, a nice body, and an empty space where my brain’s supposed to be. They have no interest in getting to know the person I am on the inside. They don’t care I volunteer my spare time, and they couldn’t care less I’m going to school to be an RN. They don’t ask about my hopes, my dreams, or about where I see my life in twenty years. They don’t care about me at all. 


They just want someone pretty to follow them around and tell them how handsome they are, how special they are, while agreeing with everything they say. Fuck that! I did that for too many years. That’s why I live inside books. At least there I can choose where I want to be—from the highlands of Scotland, to a king’s bed in a faraway land—and even if it’s pretend, sometimes that’s a lot better than reality.



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