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Blind Spot [Book Tour with Excerpt]

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Welcome to one of the December 22nd stops on the blog tour for Blind Spot by Jo Richardson, organized by Bewitching Book Tours. Be sure to follow the rest of the tour for more excerpt spotlights, guest posts and interviews with the author, reviews, and a giveaway! (More on that at the end of this post.)

Please note that this post contains affiliate links, which means there is no additional cost to you if you shop using my links, but I will earn a small percentage in commission. A program-specific disclaimer is at the bottom of this post.

About the Book

Blind Spot
by Jo Richardson

Published 15 December 2020
Cover Artist: Jada D’Lee Designs

Genre: Paranormal Romance, Suspense, Mystery
Page Count: 498
Add it to your Goodreads TBR!

How do you stay out of someone’s life when it flashes before your eyes on a daily basis?

Sydney Fallon has spent her entire life seeing things before they happen.

Tucker Chase is no exception. He’s not looking for any new friends when he rolls into town. He’s not looking for anything but a way to escape his past.

But how do you stay out of someone’s life when you see it flashing before your eyes on a daily basis?

Amazon US | Amazon CA | Amazon UK

Excerpt

At water’s edge, I let the cool evening breeze wash away my anxieties. I barely hear myself or understand myself as I say the words I’m asked to repeat.

Two words, for sure, I know by heart.

By my heart.

“I do.”

You may now kiss your bride.

A lingering kiss, a wandering hand. He’s as needy as I am and I smile against his lips for letting himself feel it.

Clapping and cheering, teasing and laughter erupt all around us as we turn and face the world together.

The scattered faces of all our friends are a blur, but I can tell they’re happy to take part in the ceremony.

Happy for us.

A declaration of matrimony is made, then we’re hurrying through the small crowd.

People toss rice; they blow bubbles.

The rest of it, I hardly remember.

The dance.

The kiss.

The cake.

It’s all in fast forward. I hope someone’s getting it on video.

The car ride at the end of the night is as swift as it’s not even happening. I watch landscapes speed by. My mind begins to wander.

Three words bring me back to him.

“You’re mine now.” His voice is low and vulnerable, rough and sultry.

I always was.

A soft glow shimmers from a window as we pull up to our new home and I shiver from anticipation.

He whisks me into his arms. He carries me across the threshold. He gazes at me with nothing but adoration.

His smile is disarming. His lips even more so as they travel along my jaw, underneath the soft curls that dangle against the back of my neck, then finally, near the upward tilted corners of my mouth.

He’s everywhere.

Soft fabrics fill the bedroom. Against the windows, on the floor, in our bed. Deep purples and reds. Sheer curtains ripple from the breeze like they’re reaching out to me.

Candles flicker and dance. Their scents romanticize the mood, as though it needs any help.

“I want you,” he murmurs.

You have me. Forever.

Clothes are gone in an instant. He hovers over me, trailing soft, tender, needy kisses. He follows a map of some sort to my lips.

The backs of his fingers graze my skin. Along the dip between my breasts, then my belly, between my legs, stopping when I squirm and giggle.

Wrinkles crease at the edges of his eyes as he grins down at me. My heart wants to burst.

Oh, the intensity in that smile.

I know him.

Better than he knows himself.

“I’ll always protect you,” he tells me.

From what?

His fingers trace. They tease. They dip. They do things I’ve never known fingers can do.

I gasp from the overwhelming bliss of it all.

“So good,” he whispers in my ear. The stubble from his beard scratches lightly against my cheek.

I agree. “So good.”

Soft, desperate hums raise flesh along my shoulders, down my back. Experienced hands guide my body, leaving me breathless underneath him.

“I will always love you.”

I’ll hold you to that.

He presses himself against me, and I meet him, hungry for more.

Then I beg him to stay.

He answers like he always does.

“I can’t.”

Not again.

The beginnings of loss prick at the corners of my eyes. I hold on to him for dear life. I can’t stifle the sounds that escape me as his strong arms surround me, making promises I know better than to hold true.

Colors fade.

Soft touches subside.

Scents diminish.

And then he’s gone.


My eyes are still damp when I wake up.

My thighs tighten. I throb between them as consciousness creeps back.

Then I remind myself, “It was just a dream, Syd.”

Again.

I breathe in and out. I roll to my side. I sigh as morning glints through the trees.

I try to recall the details of the dream, but it’s useless.

I’ve been having the damned thing for weeks. Every time, he haunts me. Every time, he loves me. Every time, he leaves me.

I can never quite make out his face, only the sound of his voice. What I imagine it sounds like, anyway. Just thinking about it now makes me shiver underneath the covers.

“Ugh.”

“Sydney!” Even from down the stairs and out the door, I can hear my grandmother calling me, as clear as if she’s in my room.

I force myself out of the warmth of my bed with a stretch and a yawn. I don’t bother looking at the time. Gran is my alarm clock.

I peer down at her from my window and watch her for a moment. She’s always told me to listen to my dreams, to try and hear what they’re telling me, but honestly, even I have to laugh as I think about it.

What can a reoccurring sex dream be trying to tell me other than, “you really need to get laid”?

She catches me spying down at her, and Gran summons me in her typical way. Two fingers placed strategically inside her lips, then a whistle that’s louder than those old air raid sirens from back in the fifties.

I roll my eyes but smile. I wave to her to let her know I’ll be down soon to help with breakfast. Then I push the stranger from my dreams out of my thoughts and head for the shower.

About the Author

A FanAddict of worlds inside big screens, small screens, and books.

A superhero geek who grew up in Maryland with four siblings, three parents and an endless number of cousins within the vicinity – but it was too cold up North for this thin blooded girl. Today, Jo lives in Florida with her two girls and a husband who shares her same sense of humor and basic take on life as they know it.

Sometimes, she even creates her own worlds.

Dabbling in both contemporary and the paranormal, Jo writes stories with mystery, suspense, humor, action, romance, and anything else she can think up.

Website | Newsletter | Facebook | Twitter | Amazon | Goodreads

Giveaway Alert!

1 prize pack featuring a signed paperback copy of Blind Spot + $10 amazon GC + swag

Dec 15 Supernatural Central
Dec 15 Momma Says: To Read or Not to Read
Dec 16 Sadie’s Spotlight
Dec 16 JB’s Bookworms with Brandy Mulder
Dec 17 The Book Junkie Reads
Dec 17 T’s Stuff
Dec 18 Roxanne’s Realm
Dec 18 The Creatively Green Write at Home Mom
Dec 18 Lisa’s World of Books
Dec 21 Fang-tastic Books
Dec 21 Jazzy Book Reviews
Dec 21 Sapphyria’s Books
Dec 22 Paranormalists
Dec 22 Westveil Publishing
Dec 22 Midnight Musings with Bertena

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Disclaimer: As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

Jenna is the artist/illustrator and author behind Westveil Publishing and its sub-banner platforms Jenna Gets Creative and The Westveil Archives. She live in Newfoundland, Canada with her husband, daughter, and feline overlords.

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