Random Review . . . Chase Me by Rachael Tamayo

Chase Me

(Friend-Zone Book 1)

June 29, 2016

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Synopsis:

Adrienne Lawrence loves her friends. It seems, however, that she doesn’t get along with her family as well. One hot Texas summer, Adrienne manages to fall headfirst over her own big mouth when she lies to her Mom about a long term boyfriend in efforts to squelch her Mom’s nasty comments about having a date for a family wedding.

Clint Montgomery, one of her best friends, kindly steps in agreeing to play the part of the devoted boyfriend during a week-long venue wedding across the country.

After a week of pretend kisses and smoldering looks, the lines between what is fake and what is real seem to become fuzzy. The only problem is, Adrienne doesn’t want to become one of the women that Clint leaves in his wake, but fighting what she’s feeling is becoming almost impossible.

My Review:

**4 Stars**

This book was an enjoyable read, but writing this review will be hard to do without giving away spoilers! LOL!

There was a lot of questioning back and forth, the characters constantly second-guessing themselves over their feelings toward each other. I liked that Clint was open and honest with Adrienne. Well, for the most part he was. I couldn't understand why they had such a hard time admitting their true feeling to themselves. I liked that he was such a sweetheart throughout the entire "performance." I liked that he was so confident in his decisions and stood up for Adrienne when she needed him most. He was most definitely a great book boyfriend. When he went through his internal struggles, I wanted to pull him to me and hug him and tell him everything would be okay.

Adrienne was the worst, though. I completely understood that there was fear holding her back. She had been repeatedly hurt by the people that should have been her biggest supporters and that definitely played a major role on her approach to relationships. Her sister...man, that chick needs a punch, or three. Her mom, no words. I didn't like the fact that Adrienne was so quick to jump to conclusions, although I expected it from her.

I loved that the book cover depicted Adrienne so perfectly, especially her curly hair. Overall, this was a good read and I'd recommend it to others who enjoy this genre. 

Excerpt:

I flip the blinker in my Tahoe and turn into my parents’ driveway. It’s too long compared it to the size of the house. I pass what seems like a mile of overly manicured shrubbery and perfectly kept trees before I finally reach the end, parking in the circle in front of the door.
Sometimes it reminds me of some old movies I’ve seen, when they pan the camera out down an overly long drive and the scene opens up into some massive mansion. My parents’ house isn’t a bit like that. It’s a nice house, don’t get me wrong, but it’s no plantation. Dark red brick, two story, five bedroom house. My childhood home.
My mom’s red Camaro is parked in front of the brick steps that lead to a set of red French doors on the front of the house. Shutting off my engine, I sit and stare off into nothing, wishing I were anywhere but here. I spent all day yesterday working on this project. Now it sits in a manila envelope on the seat beside me mocking me.
Being in my last semester of college, this project isn’t just about my grade. It also happens to be a stepping stone to proving to my parents, my mother in particular, that I can run the family restaurant I’ve been managing the restaurant my grandfather opened in nineteen-forty-three. Sorrisi, it means smile in Italian.
I wasted my whole Friday evening yesterday at my friend Micah’s house. He’s an engineer and a math whiz, so I figured using him to check my figures and polish my report would be wise. Now I get to present the idea to my parents.
Checking my appearance in the rearview mirror, a knot forms in my stomach. I don’t get along with my mother. She makes me crazy. A common problem I understand. Lots and lots of people don’t get along with their family, right?
Just wait until you meet mine.
I put makeup on, just so I don’t have to hear her backhanded insults when I walk in with a bare face. God forbid I pass up the opportunity to paint my face in case Mr. Right comes along. My mass of black curls is pulled back into a puffy ponytail.
I can make my hair look great when I want to, but usually I just pull it up and walk around looking like a wild haired mess. Actually, I’m really good at things like makeup and hair, putting clothes together. Not that my mom would know. I swear she thinks I walk around looking homeless, unless she’s up my ass yelling at me. It doesn’t help my case that my older sister used to be a model.
Why can’t you be like Ashley?
Why don’t you make more of yourself like your sister?
***
The ninety five degree heat makes me regret the long sleeve purple shirt that I put on this morning. My mom hasn’t ever seen the tattoo that’s on my shoulder, and I’m not about to change that today.
Grabbing the folder, I get out of the car. The heat of the day hits me like a slap in the face and it’s only ten in the morning.

You have to love Texas summers. Hahaha – no, you don’t, they suck.
As soon as I walk in the door, I’m greeted by a Gone with the Wind type staircase, on a smaller scale, of course. It’s in all white with black handrails and breathtakingly beautiful. Ignoring it, I take a left through the formal dining room, back to the kitchen where I’m sure to find my Mom sitting with a cup of coffee at this time of day.
Sure enough, she sits at the large oak kitchen table chatting on the phone. She smiles at me when I come in. My mom looks like an older version of me. Her black hair is straightened and shorter than mine. We have the same green eyes.
I slap the folder down on the table, help myself to a cup of coffee and wait for her to get off the phone.
Sitting with my creamy coffee, I stare at her across the table. She laughs at whatever the person on the other end of the line says. In patient silence I sit, as she ignores the fact that I’m waiting.
Yeah, just keep talking, that’s fine. It isn’t like this is important or anything. Glancing around, I wonder where my Dad is, he was supposed to be here too.
With the delicate touch of a red fingernail, she ends the phone call and takes a long sip of her coffee.
“Where’s Dad? Isn’t he coming?”
Her eyes drift slowly over me; her gaze settling on my hair and she makes a face as if there is a bad taste in her mouth. I glance down at myself.
“I’m sure you and I can handle it, Adrienne. You know, just because I’m your mother doesn’t mean that you should not dress to make a presentation. Dress for success, I’ve told you this your entire life. I don’t understand why you choose to ignore me and walk in here in this state.”
“What is wrong with this? It isn’t a board meeting, we’re in the kitchen for God’s sake.” I grumble, my hand moving to my hair on its own accord.
“You just never learn. If you would put on slacks, get rid of those jeans. No one should ever see you in jeans. Your hair is always a mess. How can anyone ever take you seriously?”
I bite my lip, swallowing a dozen hateful words that would never be appropriate for me to toss back at my mom. Swallowing more coffee, I stifle the anger even while the question floats in the back of my mind.
Do I really look that bad?
“Dad is supposed to be here, where is he? Should I wait for him?”
I change the subject. If I don’t all we will do is fight and may end up blowing this. If I can
get her to sign my form for my professor, he’ll give me extra credit for the real life application of my proposal.
“He has a previous engagement. He isn’t going to make it, I’ll look at it.”
A previous engagement. She talks to me like I’m a business acquaintance and not his daughter. I let out a sigh.
“You mean he blew me off for tennis. Just say it, Mom.” I sip my coffee, rolling my eyes. “You know how much it means to him.”
“More to him than meeting his daughter apparently,” I mutter, knowing she hears me. “I’m
running his business; you would think that he would show an interest.”
In the business that is; I think I would have a heart attack if he actually paid any attention
to me. Let’s not be ridiculous now.
“He knows that you have his business sense. He isn’t worried.” 

Reach for Me

(Friend-Zone Book 2)

October 31, 2016

Synopsis:

When Ashley's high society life crumbles around her in the space of one afternoon, she's forced to swallow her pride and move back home to Dallas. Having lost both her husband and her career, she takes up a job at her father's restaurant under her little sister Adrienne's management. After months living with her parents, she decides to move in with her coworker and friend, Shane. Ashley vows to never let a man cause her life to come crashing down around her ever again. Never will feelings cause her to make "stupid decisions."

Of course, that's before she knew Shane. Can she resist his charms? Not to mention, blue eyes, tattoos, and a ride on his motorcycle.

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Excerpt:

I slip out of the cab with my eyes on my iPhone, texting and emailing as I walk into my apartment building. My high heels click on the pavement as the doorman greets me by name, tipping his hat to me. I don’t acknowledge him.

My modeling clients demand most of my time. Today, however, I had my assistant clear a two hour block on my schedule, so I can surprise my husband, Jake, at home.

I push the elevator button without lifting my eyes. The door slides open and I step in, vaguely aware of another body standing in the back. The third floor button lights up after I push it with my manicured finger.

Sliding my phone into my purse, I unlock the door to my apartment. There is a bottle of scotch on the coffee table beside three empty glasses. He must have had a client. He often has meetings at home before his photography sessions.

The walls of my apartment are graced with large, black and white photo prints of breathtaking landscapes and angelic faces of models, all taken by my husband.

I toss my purse onto my black, leather couch, then kick my shoes off. That is when I hear it.

The sound of a female giggle floats down the hall from my bedroom.

Something hard forms in my stomach, cold like a snowball running downhill. It grows larger and larger with every step down the hall to the closed door. I hold my breath as I step, straining to catch the sound again. Maybe it was the television, or the radio.

My ears perk. A woman is moaning.

Plush, white carpet tickles my toes as I step silently, reaching the door. I lean in, putting my ear on the door.

A female voice, mingled with a male’s touches my ears.  A third male voice joins them. What the hell is going on? My blood is rushing, as I pull my ear away from the door. I know that I need to open it, but what is on the other side is terrifying me.

I take in a gulp of air in an attempt to calm myself. My hand trembles as I grip the doorknob.

“Oh, God…yes.”

The snowball that formed in my stomach is now a heavy rock, making me nauseated as I push the door open.

Three heads pop up in my bed, eyes wide and faces growing ever paler, as they look on me standing in the doorway of my bedroom.

“For fuck’s sake, are you kidding me?” I call out.

As I turn to rush out, my husband scrambles out of the middle of the trio, agile for his forty-two years, leaping over them and off the bed.

As I rush down the hall, tears leak from my eyes. Pausing, I snatch up my purse with shaking hands, and step into my shoes, as a lump forms in my throat, choking me.

“Ashley, wait… baby…” he calls to me.

Spinning, I am greeted by a stark naked Jake. When he reaches for me, I slap him. The sound of my palm hitting his flesh is loud in the room. A red palm print blooms on his cheek; he doesn’t blink.

“Don’t baby me! In my bed, are you serious? What the fuck, Jake? Having a twenty-five year old wife isn’t enough for you?”

He blinks at me for a second. I hear shuffling coming from my bedroom, hushed whispers.

“You’re not ever home in the afternoon…” he begins.

“Oh, pardon me. Next time I will be sure to check your schedule for orgies before I come home to see you. Is this why you won’t touch me?”

I dash my tears away with angry hands, pulling away when he tries to touch me again. I don’t even know why I’m asking; I don’t care anymore. I should’ve expected this. Today was my last effort to do something with the disaster that has become my marriage; sleeping alone, always wondering where he is. I buried myself in my work as a distraction. This morning, I decided I should try. Maybe I’m not giving him enough attention.

This is what I get for trying.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry. I think we need to talk. Can you let me get rid of them?”

I look into his face, unsure of what I expect to see there. He is seventeen years older than me. I’ve spent the last four years of my life with him. This man made my modeling career a success and helped me when I wanted to give it up to become an agent. Now, I stand eye to eye with him and I see no love in his eyes. No panic that he has lost me. Just the same cold, black stare coming from deep, brown eyes that I always see.

He looks at me like I am his sister or his friend. He has that super handsome distinguished thing going on. Think about those older men that only get better with age. Sean Connery, Brad Pitt, Richard Gere. You could slide Jake Riverside’s name right into that list and no one would argue with you.

“There is nothing to talk about.”

He opens his mouth to say something, and I see a blonde head pop out of my room. I recognize her.  A new modeling client my boss, Michael, signed last week. She is twenty years old with the fresh face of an angel and body of a porn star. Looking terrified, she slips past me in jeans and a tight-fitting, pink sweater, headed for the front door.

I let her go without a word. What’s the point?

I have more to say to the second body that pops out of my room, however. Michael. He stands in the hallway still buttoning his shirt, his eyes darting between Jake and me.

“You’re fucking kidding me!”  I yell, shoving Jake with all my weight.

He stumbles backwards a few steps, but catches himself before he falls.

“Ashley, it just happened. We didn’t mean to…” Michael stammers.

The head of my agency. He owns the damn thing. My boss. The man that made me one of the most successful fashion agents in New York City.

“You didn’t mean to what? Have a threesome with my husband in my bed? Ruin my marriage? What the fuck did you mean, Michael?”

About Rachael:

I'm a police dispatcher/ 911 operator, and a romance writer. I like to say that writing is my full time hobby, but it's in my blood just as answering 911 is. 
I'm a wife and mother. I live in the Houston, Texas area with my husband of twelve years and our three year old son. We all live happily with our yellow Lab, Daisy and our African Grey parrot, Sassy, 

When I'm not writing or working, you can usually find me at home enjoying quality time with my husband and son, or maybe a large family get together with my fantastic extended family.