Spotlight & Giveaway: From the Jump by Lacie Waldon

Today, HJ is pleased to share with you Lacie Waldon’s new release: From the Jump

A chronic yes-woman finally admits to what—and who—she really wants in this unforgettable and heartfelt romantic comedy, by the author of The Layover.

Liv Bakersfield is used to living her life in “shoulds.” Be fit. Be financially responsible. Be your best self. An overworked graphic designer, she’s stretched so thin that she’s about to miss yet another vacation with her beloved group of college friends. But when Liv finally decides to start saying no, it feels good…good enough to leap straight into quitting her job and hopping on a plane to join them in South Africa.

Amid the exotic landscape and unforgettable sights, Liv expects sun and safari animals and an easy time with her best friends. But such close proximity makes everything more complicated, especially with the emotionally unavailable Lucas Deiss. Their friendship is the only thing in her life that’s still solid, and she vows to do anything she can to keep the group together. But once they get back to LA, Liv discovers that her leap of faith has become a freefall, sending her crashing into Deiss’s arms. With the trust of the people she loves most on the line, Liv must decide between doing what she should … and risking everything for what she shouldn’t want.

Enjoy an exclusive excerpt from From the Jump 

By the time I arrive in Durban, South Africa, it’s been almost forty hours since I’ve last showered. I’ve consumed eighteen coffees, watched six bad movies and two good ones, read until my eyes began to cross, and my skin has sucked my foundation in through what I can only assume was a desperate attempt to rehydrate itself. Still, I feel better than I did the morning after my slumber party with Elena. The next time I decide to abstain from alcohol, it won’t be because of calories. It will be because of hangovers and inadvisable purchases of cheap flights that involve four layovers before reaching your final destination.
I stop in a restroom before leaving the airport and use the last of my bottled water to brush my teeth. When she got my email, Phoebe offered to make the three-hour drive from St. Lulia to pick me up, and it doesn’t seem fair to reward her generosity by releasing the nuclear bomb that has been living inside my mouth. Despite my stop for hygiene, I beat most of my fellow passengers outside. It seems the majority of them have decided to check their luggage and are now being held captive audience to the empty conveyer belt making its slow, creaky loop.
Rather than feeling superior for restricting myself to a carry-on, I’m freaked out imagining what they’ve packed that I’ve failed to bring. I’ve never been out of the country. Maybe they know about things I didn’t realize I needed. Or maybe they just weren’t rip-roaring drunk when they were pulling clothes out of their closets and throwing them gleefully into a bag. By the time I got back from my appointment with Elena’s cousin, I barely had time to find a spot for the malaria tablets he’d given me, much less double-check what had been done the night before.
There’s a cover over the area outside the door I exit, but its shade can’t diminish the brilliance of the day. The air smells different. It’s earthier than in L.A., rich and full of possibility. The sun feels closer, and I fumble in my purse for my sunglasses. Once they’re on, I lift my arms above my head and stretch my entire body, trying to restore it to the shape it was before I decided to live in tinfoil cans for two days. My effort is interrupted by a honk from the little brown hatchback that coasts to a stop in front of me.
“Want a ride, gorgeous?” Deiss leans over from the driver’s seat to speak through the open window on the passenger’s side.
I freeze with my hands in the air, too stunned by his unexpected appearance to react appropriately. It’s not just the fact that he’s showed up instead of instead of Phoebe but that he’s shaved off all of his hair. Not only from his head but the beard too. All that’s left is a dark stubble on his cheeks and a black buzz on his head that I can’t help imagining feels softer than it looks.
The overall effect is… shocking. Overwhelming, actually. Without the hair, there’s nothing to distract from his piercing blue eyes and sharp cheekbones. It’s his mouth that’s the real unearthed treasure, though. I stare at it, unable to think.
“Deiss?” My voice comes out breathy.
“At your service.” His lip curls as if in response to the spotlight of my thoughts. He pulls back into his seat and I hear the pop of the car’s ancient trunk.
His disappearance breaks the trance, and I jerk my arms back to my side. They pop back up as if they’ve been spring loaded, smoothing at my hair and face and clothes like any of it can be fixed. While it’s reassuring that I’ve brushed my teeth, the image I caught in the mirror while doing so was much less comforting. I happen to know for a fact that, beneath these sunglasses, the green of my eyes is so dramatically surrounded by ribbons of red Deiss is likely to break into Christmas carols if he sees them. My hair is limp, hanging down my back like a batch of sunflowers that have been forced to survive in the shade. I really hope I don’t smell, but there’s no way of knowing for sure.
Deiss climbs out of the car, and I mirror his movement to the trunk. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Disappointed?” He doesn’t seem offended by the idea. He doesn’t even seem particularly curious as to my answer. He merely reaches for my roller bag and tucks it gently into the trunk.
“Of course not.” No wonder he’s kept his face and mouth under wraps. He was probably doing it as a public service because he knew their beauty was too much for the world to handle. The emergence of them has thrown me completely off my game. “I just feel bad. I know it was a long drive.”
The minute the words come out, I realize they’re true. I feel terrible, actually. It was one thing when Phoebe offered to drive me; I knew she’d enjoy three hours of gossip about the ridiculous things Mac has done since they left L.A. But Deiss? I can’t believe my arrival has cost him a full day of his vacation.
“It was a long drive. But I figured I should be the one to do it.” He places the bag inside and closes the trunk, pulling the mirrored aviators from where they dangle off the top button of his linen shirt and sliding them over his eyes. “I know you like me best.”
My body relaxes at his words, and I smile as he turns to head toward the driver’s door. My guilt is a wasted effort. He’s Deiss. If he hadn’t wanted to drive all this way to pick me up, he wouldn’t have.
“Actually,” I say, sliding into the passenger seat, “I made a list. Phoebe, obviously, ranked first. You almost came in second, but then I remembered Simone. And Mac.”
The rattly old car smells faintly of gas, and the seat is made of a faux leather that’s peeling in parts. A piece of it digs into my linen pants, threatening to snag the material. Since I’ve never been out of the country before, I’ve also never been in a car made for driving on the opposite side of the road. It’s disconcerting, like everything is normal but also slightly off kilter.

Excerpt. ©Lacie Waldon. Posted by arrangement with the publisher. All rights reserved.
 
 

Giveaway:  (1) A print copy of FROM THE JUMP by Lacie Waldon

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Meet the Author:

Lacie Waldon is a writer with her head in the clouds–literally. A flight attendant based in Washington, D.C., Waldon spends her days writing from the jump seat and searching the world for new stories. She is also the author of The Layover.

Buy: https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/665511/from-the-jump-by-lacie-waldon/