Spotlight & Giveaway: PLANES, TRAINS, AND ALL THE FEELS by Livy Hart

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Livy Hart to HJ!

Hi Livy and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Planes, Trains, and All the Feels!

 
Hi there!
 

Please summarize the book a la Twitter style for the readers here:

Two opposites from different worlds get stuck on a disastrous road trip and must to lean on each other to survive.
 

Please share the opening lines of this book:

My mother will disown me if I miss this flight.
Dramatic? Yes.
But so is she. I promised I’d be at her disposal all week to help with every painstaking detail of my sister Isabelle’s wedding. Mom’s standards for society gatherings sit about five million feet above sea level, and this is the one event to rule them all.

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

• It features an under-the-sea themed motel called You’ll Sea with a giant clamshell bed in each room. As in, the mattress is inside a giant clamshell (you’ll see).
• The two main characters take Vegas by storm toward the end of the book and have the time of their lives, which they deserved after their lives were almost ruined by a string of travel disasters.
• They visit an antique washing machine museum and definitely don’t kiss in the parking lot (unless?)
• The heroine Cassidy is a choreographer, both because it fit her character and because I wanted an excuse to watch approximately four thousand dance videos online to ‘get inspired’.
• The hero Luke was born after I saw an attractive, uptight-looking guy with glasses on Pinterest. He’s an actuary (risk assessor), but that doesn’t stop him from risking life and limb by traveling with the wild Cassidy!

What first attracts your main characters to each other?

Luke is attracted to Cassidy’s ability to relate to any and every stranger she encounters.

Cassidy is attracted to Luke’s sense of responsibility (and if she’s honest, his glasses).
 

Using just 5 words, how would you describe your main characters”love affair?

Intimate, spirited, spicy, exponential, eternal.
 

The First Kiss…

…is against the side of a cherry red Mustang. They may have dented it with their enthusiasm.

Without revealing too much, what is your favorite scene in the book?

When getting into cars with strangers, you should always validate their identity. My favorite scene is when Cassidy enlists the help of her best friend Berkeley to vet her new friend-of-convenience, our hero Luke:

Luke, halfway to offering me his ID, recoils his arm. “Wait, are you trying to FaceTime someone right now, Cassidy?”
“Obviously. I need a witness before I get in your car.”
“What, they’re going to judge whether I’m safe by my face?”
It’s probably the most likable thing about you, I do not say, because I’m not in the business of alienating my only means of escape from this airport.
Berkeley’s room is pitch black when she answers.
“Th’hell?” she grumbles, sleep rumpled.
“Morning, Sunshine! Listen, I’ve got a bit of a situation here, and I need your help.”
“I’m naked. Give me a second to throw on clothes.” She tosses the phone onto the bed as she rustles around.
I snort at Luke’s peachy blush. “Relax, Stranger Danger. People sleep naked.”
“That’s not—who is this person, exactly?”
“My roommate, Berkeley, is going to help me validate your identity.” I extend an open hand.
“License, please.”
Luke deposits it on my palm and watches me intently, as if afraid I might pocket the thing and make a run for it if he blinks.
I peek up at his caramelly blond coif and then back at the license.
6’2”, blond hair, hazel eyes, organ donor.
He doesn’t flinch at my once-over, even when it segues into a twice-over. “Is this roommate of yours going to blast my name and address across the internet?” he asks.
“Not if I’m delivered to California in one piece.”
“What’s this I’m hearing?” Berkeley asks as she switches on a light. Her illuminated face fills the screen. “Delivering you?”
“The airline has stranded us in Missouri and left us to languish in obscurity, and I met a guy who can drive me back to California. But in the off chance he has mafia ties and tries to disappear me—”
“What? I’m not in the mafia,” Luke blusters.
I spare him a look. “That’s exactly what someone in the mafia would say.” I turn back to my phone. “I want you to have his full identity and know the sound of his voice, so you can identify him, if needed.”
Berkeley morphs into a human emoji, the one with hyphen-slits for eyes. “Who is this man? More importantly, why is this man offering you a ride?”
I swivel to get Luke in frame—he was hiding directly behind the phone before—and position myself as if we’re about to take a photo together. He looks like he’d rather witness his own execution than endure even a second of shared screen time. “He scored the last rental car and is taking pity on my poor soul.”
Luke rakes his hands through his hair twice, wilting under Berk’s scrutinous stare. “Hi. I’m Luke.”
He clears his throat. “Luke Carlisle, if you want to google me. I’m a normal, boring dude.”
Also what someone in the mafia would say, but I don’t speak it aloud for the sake of moving this along.
“Greetings,” Berkeley chirps. “Why are you trying to lure my roommate into your car, Luke? What’s your endgame?”
“I don’t have an endgame. I’ve got a Volkswagen Jetta.”

If your book was optioned for a movie, what scene would be absolutely crucial to include?

When traveling with a hot stranger, sometimes your rental car meets the business end of a semi-truck (without you in it, thank goodness!) while you’re stretching your legs on the side of the road, leaving you even more stranded than you were the last time you were stranded:

The glow of light filtering through the thick canopy casts him in golden relief as he stares down at me, a questioning look in his eyes. I don’t think I’d noticed the warm hazel color before, both green and brown enough to belong out here, among the trees.
My gaze lingers on the subtle laugh lines near his eyes, hiding in plain sight, before tracing the smooth line of his tan neck, all the way to where it disappears into his collar.
His attention shifts to my hand, which is still gripping his broad bicep, and back to my face. It passes over me, never pausing in one place, sliding over my face, down my shoulders, up to the top of my head. Suddenly my hair feels as alive as the rest of me, a conduit of the strange energy pulsing through my body.
I release my hold, palm tingling. “Sorry! I was just…”
What was I doing? Joking about something, right?
His gaze shifts past me, and in an instant, his entire face transforms into unadulterated, slack-jawed shock.
It happens so fast I don’t have time to think of calibrate, just a fraction of a second to wheel around.
CRASH.
Our little black car, plowed by a semi-truck.
It’s so bright and vivid, so surreal, it plays out like a comic book come to life.
It soars weightless across the grass shoulder of the highway, spinning a full three hundred and sixty degrees, snacks and a cup of coffee flying out the open windows.
Crunching into a bank of trees. Collapsing on itself like an accordion.
And then WHOOSH.
It ignites in a blaze of glory.

Readers should read this book …

For an adventurous romp and unforgettable love story! Luke and Cassidy go from irritated to irrepressibly hot for each other through this trip, blissfully unaware that they are falling in love until it smacks them right in the feels.

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have planned?

I have two books in progress for release within the next year that I will be announcing very soon! If you love wise-cracking heroines, cinnamon rolls who would do anything for their loved ones, big casts of memorable characters, and a healthy dose of chaotic banter, stay tuned!

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: A print copy of PLANES, TRAINS, AND ALL THE FEELS!

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: What’s the most unique or memorable place you’ve ever visited on a road trip?

 
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Excerpt from Planes, Trains, and All the Feels:

Luke insists we ride the High Roller, a modern Ferris wheel with enclosed pods, offering 360-degree views of the city as it takes you through the sky on a large, slow rotation. In the lobby, we argue over who will buy tickets for three straight minutes before I let Luke win.
I pinch his lower back as we step up to the counter. “Pathologically chivalrous.”
Ignoring this, he slides his card across the counter. “We’ll do the Happy Half Hour. Is it too late for the 10:00?”
“Nope! Perfect timing.”
Words for sore ears after the logistics nightmares we’ve endured this trip.
As we hurry toward the pod’s boarding platform, I steal another look at the sign above the check-out with all the prices. “You don’t drink, really. Why did you choose the open bar pod?”
His fingers brush the bare skin between my shoulder blades, igniting a blaze. “I have a theory. We’ll see if it’s correct.”
He ushers me over the threshold with a hand to the small of my back. A bartender behind a tiny counter covered in liquor bottles greets us with a broad smile, the kind I know all too well from my weekends slinging beers and cocktails. I take a photo of his Venmo tip-me sign immediately and promise him a payout. I’m not drinking, but it feels wrong not to give the man something.
Within two minutes, our unit is packed to capacity—twenty-five people. They eagerly crowd the bar like sharks.
Luke ducks down to whisper in my ear as we move to the other side of the sphere. “The goal of a happy hour pod, as I learned at that terrible bachelor’s party, is to try and drink your money’s worth. These people will be so busy getting drunk, they’ll barely notice anything else. It’ll feel like we have privacy.”
“Like a date. With twenty something of our closest friends getting hammered in our periphery.”
He orients me toward the glass wall and circles his arms around my waist. “As far as I’m concerned, this is the only thing that exists right now.”
When his mouth finds my neck, I get the impression he doesn’t just mean the view. I melt in his arms, my back against his chest.
The lights in the pod fade to nothing apart from a single blue neon runner haloing the top of the sphere. Luke was right: in the darkness, it’s only us and the view. The loud hum of noise makes me feel like I could say anything and only he’d hear. The excitement of drinking and whatever event they’re all a part of means no one pays attention to us.
We ascend, slow and smooth. I didn’t know I had a space carved out in my heart for Las Vegas until I saw it from the air. Now that I’ve glimpsed the glittering blues, reds, and soft white lights sparkling across the city, I’ll compare everything to this.
Luke’s warm breath on my ear provokes an answering tug in my core. “What do you think?”
“I think this was a very good idea.”
Minutes pass as he holds me to his chest, lifting an arm to point out landmarks every now and then. We talk about every day things, the mundane that feels anything but when it’s affiliated with Luke. I make him describe his house and I do the same until he’s cackling at the level of specificity in my answer.
I learn he’s scared of more than just snakes and planes. Scuba diving is a no-go. He doesn’t laugh when I tell him my favorite movie is Toy Story and get a little choked up over it, because he loves it too.
We discover we’ve been to some of the same hole-in-the-wall restaurants in west LA. He hums triumphantly in my ear at this, as if to say see? We fit.
“I’ll cook for you,” he whispers, breath fanning my neck. “Soon. Somewhere.”
I melt in more ways than one as my pulse quickens. “Will you wear my frilly apron?”
“I’ll wear anything you want, if you’ll do the same.”
“Deal.”
He loosens his hold and I fear he’ll let me go when his right hand moves to my hip. His palm moves in small, slow circles. My dress moves with him, rubbing against my skin. The friction ignites a simmer in my blood.
It’s so short all he’d have to do is lift it a few inches and I’d be exposed.
The back of my head falls against his chest and settles in that crook that feels made for it.
His hand slides lower, stopping just above the hem. Bunching the fabric lightly, but not lifting.
Innocent, but not at all.
A hard breath leaves my mouth. Our weight shifts forward, together, until I’m almost pressed against the glass.
“Tell me something,” he murmurs, walking his fingers inward until his hand rests on the front of my thigh. “Anything you want.”

Excerpts. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

As the black sheep of the family, choreographer Cassidy Bliss vowed she’d do anything to get home in time to help with her sister’s wedding and avoid family disappointment…again. She just never expected “anything” would involve sharing the last rental car with the jerk who cut her off in line at the airport this morning. But horrible times apparently call for here-goes-nothing measures.

Driving across the country with Luke “life can be solved with a spreadsheet” Carlisle must be a penance for some crime she committed. Because the second he opens his mouth, it’s all she can do to not maim him with her carry-on. But somewhere between his surprisingly thoughtful snack sharing and his uncanny ability to see straight to the core of her, her feelings go unchecked.

Suddenly, their crackling chemistry is just one more thing they have to navigate—and it couldn’t come at a worse time. But after a lifetime of letting the expectations and needs of others drive her life, Cassidy must decide if she’s ready to take the wheel once and for all.
Book Links: Amazon | B&N | iTunes | Goodreads |
 
 

Meet the Author:

Romance author Livy Hart has two children, too many Funko Pops, and a husband who’s workin’ on the railroad—literally. She currently resides in Dallas, Texas where she enjoys long walks on the concrete and people-watching at malls so big they have their own zip codes. When she’s not writing, she’s bickering with her KitchenAid stand mixer, road-tripping to her sleepy Florida hometown, or sipping espresso on her Nonna’s porch.
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