Unquietly Me welcomes authoer Elyse Springer for Riptide Publishing’s WHITEOUT book tour!
Hello! I’m Elyse, and welcome to the blog tour for my new release, Whiteout! This is the first book in the Seasons of Love series, and I can’t wait to introduce you to Noah and Jason.
Noah Landers wakes up one day with a headache and no memory of where—or who—he is. Jason, the man taking care of him, tries to fill in some of the blanks: they’re in a cabin in Colorado on vacation, and Noah slipped on ice and hit his head. But even with amnesia, Noah knows Jason is leaving out something important.
Jason O’Reilly is sexy as hell, treats Noah like he’s precious, and seems determined to make this the romantic getaway they’d apparently dreamed of together. But Noah’s more concerned that he’s trapped alone with Jason in the middle of a blizzard while his slowly returning memories bring hints of secrets and betrayal.
Noah’s not sure what’s the truth and what’s a lie. But as he learns who he is—and who Jason is to him—he’s forced to reevaluate everything he believes about himself, about loyalty . . . and about love.
Now available from Riptide Publishing. http://www.riptidepublishing.com/titles/whiteout
About Elyse Springer
Elyse is an author and world-traveler, whose unique life experiences have helped to shape the stories that she wants to tell. She writes romances with LGBTQ+ characters and relationships, and believes that every person deserves a Happily Ever After. When she’s not staring futilely at her computer screen, El spends her time adding stamps to her passport, catching up on her terrifying TBR list, and learning to be a better adult.
She’s always happy to chat with other readers, and you can find her online at:
To celebrate the release of Whiteout, one lucky winner will receive a $20 Amazon gift card! Leave a comment with your contact info to enter the contest. Entries close at midnight, Eastern time, on January 28, 2017. Contest is NOT restricted to U.S. entries. Thanks for following the tour, and don’t forget to leave your contact info!
He woke up to gentle fingers carding through his hair, and a raging headache.
The fingers stopped their soothing movement as he groaned, and then there was a hand on his face and a shadow blocking out the light. He blinked once, twice, forcing his eyes to slowly open.
A man was looking down at him, his gaze filled with relief and tenderness. “Good, you’re awake.” The hand moved down his face and neck, feather-light touches, and then the man twined their fingers together. “I’ve been so worried. How are you feeling?”
He shifted, wincing as the movement caused the pain in his head to spike. “I don’t . . .” His voice was rusty, and he had to swallow a few times before continuing. “Head hurts,” he finally managed. “Where am I?”
“We’re in the cabin in Colorado. Do you remember what happened, baby?”
Baby? The word made no sense, meant nothing to him. His head ached fiercely as he struggled to find something to explain what was going on, but he couldn’t think past the stabbing in his head. The man was waiting for an answer, eyebrows furrowed with worry.
He tried to connect a name to the face staring down at him, but there was only static—and more excruciating agony. “Who are you?” he whispered.
The fingers around his tightened. “Babe? What’d you say?” The words were still soothing, but now there was panic laced in that soothing tone.
“Don’t know,” he tried again, voice tight through the pain, “who you are. Or where I am.”
“Noah, it’s me. Jason. Do you remember me?”
Nope, nothing. The names ran through his head, but there was no memory to attach them to. Nothing to connect Jason to, with his brown eyes and comforting voice. And he was Noah? The words were meaningless. He closed his eyes as his head pounded. Why didn’t he recognize his own name?
“Noah, baby, keep your eyes open. I called the doctor in town; he said you probably have a concussion and I’m supposed to keep you awake if I can.” The calm was all but gone now, replaced with something stronger.
“Don’t remember.” He sucked in a shallow breath, then another. Why couldn’t he remember? His heart hammered like it was going to beat out of his chest. He clenched his eyes tighter, until bursts of red bloomed against his eyelids. Everything hurt, and the harder he tried to think, the more his head felt like it was being torn in two.
The other man—Jason, why can’t I remember that?—climbed carefully onto the bed next to him. He slid one arm underneath his shoulders, made soft noises against his neck. “Deep breaths. Shhh. Inhale, exhale. You’re okay. It’s going to be okay. Breathe with me, Noah.”
“Why do you keep calling me that?”
“Noah? It’s your name, baby. Noah Landers.”
If that was true, then why didn’t he know it? It felt weird, not quite right, like putting on clothes that didn’t fit well. “And you’re Jason?”
“Yeah, I’m Jason.” He paused, then added, “Jason O’Reilly.”
But that wasn’t right either. The words made his stomach ache, but he didn’t know why.
“C’mon, Noah, open your eyes for me.” Jason squeezed his hand again. “I’m going to call the doctor again in a few minutes, but first I need you to open your eyes back up. Come on, let me get you some water and Tylenol. I bet you have an awful headache, and I know how grumpy you get when you’re in pain.”
Slowly, Noah blinked his eyes back open.
Jason gifted him with a smile, and a small part of Noah must have recognized it—his body responded, relaxing at the sight. The sick feeling in his stomach didn’t vanish, but it lessened.
“Let me grab those painkillers for you. I’ll be back soon, okay?”
Before Noah could answer, Jason brushed a gentle kiss over his forehead, then slid off the bed.
Noah took the chance to study him as he walked away, and to take in the room through his pain-soaked haze. Nothing was familiar. The room, filled with dark wood and white linens, was cozy and quaint, but the size, combined with the quality of the furnishings, implied a subtle wealth. A window showed that it was evening, only a hint of gray light making it through the glass, and white snow blew past, obscuring any possible view.
And Jason himself . . . Noah couldn’t take his eyes off him as he walked back into the room with a glass of water and bottle of medicine. He was tall, easily six foot, and there was a clear definition of muscles beneath the henley and jeans he wore. His dark hair was flecked with gray at the temples, and it was standing straight up, as though Jason had run his hands through it over and over.