Hidden Beneath will be available for purchase on Amazon August 20th!Copes will be available at Barnes and Noble and Kobo for a limited time, and Hidden Beneath will return to all outlets in November.
Both Paperback and E-book editions will contain BONUS MATERIAL, including chapters written from Brant's POV, and a sneak peak at Jen Naumann's Mind Static.
Summary:
Just when Ivy Daniels thought her life was going exactly how she wanted it, a surprise visitor arrives to shake up her world. Two years after an accident left Ivy with the ability to read minds she’s finally put her past behind her. Now, the summer after her senior year of high school Ivy is looking forward to going away to college and enjoying the rest of her vacation with her best friend Charlie and boyfriend Aden. The life altering events of her junior year of high school, that made her realize things aren’t always as they appear, have been pushed to the back of Ivy’s mind, and so has the memory of the one person who helped her though them – that is until he shows up on her door step a month before she leaves for L.A. asking for her help.
Where has Ivy’s ex-boyfriend, Brant, been, and why did he leave? Find out in this sequel to Into the Deep that will lead take you on an adventure filled with secrets, lost love, and forgiveness.
Read all the teasers I've released so far...
Teaser 1
Teaser 2
Teaser 3
TEASER: (Brant's POV)
It didn’t feel like home anymore. At a glance the house I’d grown up in was exactly the same, but it no longer felt familiar, no longer felt welcoming. I’d been gone a long time, over a year, and even though my father still left the sliding door unlocked and my room sat untouched, exactly as I had left it – it felt empty now.
I dropped my bag to the floor and sat down on the couch. I didn’t turn the TV on, didn’t even think about playing my PlayStation or listening to music so loud my stereo shook the walls. Instead I sat in silence and looked around the room. My bed still sat with my comforter half on the floor, the Black Keys concert poster above my desk was still curling at the corners where the tape had lifted, threatening to pop off the wall completely, and on the corkboard on the far wall, between concert tickets and movie stubs, was a picture of Ivy and me.
I walked across the room to stare at the photo. It’d been taken at this party we’d gone to at the beach over the summer. The image was dark, but we were lit by the flames of a nearby bonfire. Ivy was smiling, and I had my arms wrapped around her. That day felt so long ago.
I continued to wander around my room. On my desk was a green notebook, and inside were letters I’d written to Ivy. Shaky words I’d jotted down, scribbled out, and re-wrote in an attempt to find the right way to tell her that I was leaving. In the end I realized there was nothing I could say to her, not in words or in writing, to explain what I was doing. And so when I left, I said nothing.
“I really am an asshole,” I said aloud, thinking about all the time that had passed since I’d written in that book. I had never expected to be gone this long.
“And a coward,” someone said.
I turned around to see my father standing at the end of the stairs. He was wearing a business suit, his hands thrust into his pockets. He looked the same as before I’d left, though his hair was colored by a few more greys now.
My father cleared his throat. “So you’re back? Done gallivanting around, accomplishing nothing, or did you just run out of money?”
“I’m not staying; there was just something in town I needed.”
Dad nodded. “I know we didn’t always get along, but I never thought you’d up and leave like she did.”
Fire burned in my belly hearing him talk about her like that. “Mom didn’t leave us.”
“No? Then what happened to her, Brant? Was she kidnapped? That’s what your little road trip was about right, to find her?”
I clenched my jaw, wanting to tell him everything I knew, and yet still not wanting to hurt him. “I’ve been looking.”
He gave a humorless bark of laughter, and his stare was cold and heavy. “I’ll assume if you’re here that means you didn’t find her. I’m sorry that your search ended in vain. She’s not coming home, son.”
I shook my head. “You don’t even believe that. Since the day she left you’ve been waiting for her to come home. I’ve seen you sit in your office staring out the window as if she’ll suddenly be walking up the driveway.” I took a breath. “You’re right though, she’s not coming home, but it isn’t because she left us. She loved us.”
I stormed past my father, my shoulder barely grazing his, and I went upstairs, pulling a half-empty pack of Marbs from my pocket. I lit a cigarette as I stepped outside and sat on the back porch, where I could see the rose bushes my mother had once taken such pride in.
