Protagonized Cover Reveal #Giveaway

Title: Protagonized

Author: Shannon Myers

Genre: Literary Fiction/Romantic Comedy
Cover Design: The Final Wrap
Photo: Wander Aguiar
Models: Colton Benson

Release Date: January 24, 2019

Blurb

Describe Jake Hopkins in two words? 

Boozing womanizer. 

So, maybe he solved cases with a precision not seen since Agatha Christie's Hercule Poirot. It didn't matter. The guy was a grade A prick. 

And killing him was the best decision I ever made—until it wasn't.

It was supposed to be a good move for me—a way of showing that I wasn't one to back down.

I never imagined it would cause such a visceral reaction...among my readers. 

I didn't get it. He was barely tolerable most of the time and his death opened the door for a new detective—maybe one who had her act together.

I never would've guessed that he'd show up on my doorstep, begging for a second chance, or that he'd look even better than I ever imagined. Characters die and everyone moves on—that's the way it works. Sometimes it's even necessary for the story to progress.

When the hate mail gives way to something more sinister, Jake insists that he's just the man to handle the case. He vows to keep me safe in exchange for his life. 

The problem isn't resurrecting him. 

No, my problem is much worse.

How do I stop myself from falling in love with a fictional character?

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Excerpt

“Okay, now when we get there, act normal. Order whatever you usually get. Sit where you normally do. That kind of thing. Don’t get too focused on looking for a suspect. That’s my job.” Jake hit his turn signal and switched lanes. I was riding shotgun in the shiny black Raptor I’d written for him and, any moment now, I was going to wake up back in bed, having dreamt this entire thing. I rubbed my damp palms against my jeans and focused on my breathing.

After getting dressed in record time, Jake had wanted to know my schedule for a typical day. When I mentioned that I wrote at a local coffee shop a couple of times a week, his eyes lit up. I was relieved that I’d left out the fact that I worked at a salon in the afternoons and evenings because there was not a chance in hell of me letting him tag along there.

We pulled into the parking lot and Jake turned to me. He studied me for a second, giving a slight head shake at my you’ve got to be kitten me right meow, t-shirt. “This is the place?” He looked through the windshield at the Cold Brews Co. sign and then back at me. “It looks like a bar.”

“No, their specialty is cold brew coffees—look, is this a good idea?”

Translation: Is this safe?

He nodded. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” 

The thought that someone, besides Bootsy and Aaris, wanted to keep me safe did weird things to my heart, even if it was coming from Jake. I fought the urge to pump my fist in the air while laughing like a lunatic.

“After all, you’re my meal ticket. If you get dead, I can’t get back home,” he finished with a pouty smirk.

Oh good, the limbic rage was back. I’d been worried it was gone forever once the handcuffs were off.

“Why do you do that with your mouth?" I snapped, as I unbuckled and climbed down to the pavement.

“Do what? He pursed his lips again.

“That! You’re doing it again.”

At his blank expression, I forced my own lips into a duck pose as he held the coffee shop door open for me. “Like this.”

“Why are you doing that to your face? Stop. People are staring.” He hissed, glancing around.

"You look like that all the time.”

“Good Morning, Hayden,” my favorite barista, Damien, called over the espresso machine as the door jingled above our heads, announcing our arrival. “The usual?”

I immediately softened my expression, trying to channel the joy and tranquility that tried to flee when Jake entered a room. “Yeah, that’ll be perfect. Thanks, Damien. How’d Paul do on his test?”

He poured steamed milk into a paper cup for a to-go order with a dramatic eye roll. “Nailed it. Like he does everything else. I just have to talk him off the ledge every time though. How’d I end up the motivator in this relationship? I swear.”

“Because you’re a positive person and deserving of all the good things life has to offer,” I reminded him as I selected a bottled water from the refrigerated case

“I just come here a couple of times a week, but know everyone’s life story,” Jake quietly taunted at my back, his body inches from mine. A shudder worked its way down to my toes as the scent of campfire and pine flooded my nostrils. 

Were there notes of citrus layered in there? No, I was definitely detecting hints of clean laundry that had been dried on a clothesline mixed with something.

Gah, what was it?

I wanted to lean back and rest my head against his chest while looking up at him adoringly. Just like I’d witnessed the younger couples that frequented this place do on more than one occasion. But this time, it’d be me experiencing something other than abject disappointment.

Me and my very own tree.

And I’d climb that redwood every day.

Just doing my part to save the earth, kids.

I was struck with the image of massive hands on my hips, pinning me in place. I’d just bet that his fingers would curl in possessively, marking me as his to anyone who dared to look. The cold air blasted around bottles of juice and water, yet inside, I was sweltering.

His proximity was messing with my brain waves. I straightened with a shaky exhale and carried my water over to the register, doing my best to ignore my flushed cheeks and the giant I came in with.

Damien added a heart to the foam and handed me my caffè mocha before noticing Jake. “Hey, you brought a friend,” he exclaimed in his typical sing-song.

I shook my head. “We just came in at the same time. I don’t know this man.”

I wasn’t just imagining all the ways I’d like him to defile me in front of the poor beverage case, either, in case you were wondering.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get to know him?” He stage-whispered, raising his eyebrows up and down suggestively as he snagged me a cinnamon roll from the case.

“Oh, no. I’ve got quite enough excitement in my life.”

Damien gave Jake another once over. “If you say so. I personally think when excitement comes packaged like that, you thank the universe and don’t ask questions. But, that’s just me. How’s Bootsy doing? Is she still loving her holistic food?”

“Yes. It has made such a difference with her…” 

Shit, what was it supposed to do? 

“Poops?” I offered hesitantly just as Damien suggested, “Her coat?”

He frowned. “It shouldn’t have changed her bowel habits. My girls didn’t seem to be any different. Maybe check