Today we're excited to spotlight Watching You by Shannon Greenland! Read on for more about Shannon and her book, plus an excerpt & giveaway!
Meet Shannon Greenland!
Shannon Greenland, or S. E. Green, is the award winning author of the teen thriller, Killer Instinct, a YALSA Quick Pick for Reluctant Readers; the teen spy series, The Specialists, an ALA Popular Paperback and a National Reader’s Choice recipient; and the YA romance, The Summer My Life Began, winner of the Beverly Hills Book Award. Her books have been translated into several languages and are currently on numerous state reading lists. Shadow of a Girl is her latest novel and due out 9.19.16. Shannon has participated in and served as a guest speaker at festivals and conferences around the country to include but not limited to the LA Times Book Festival, American Library Association, Book Expo of America, Bouchercon, Romance Writers of America, RT Book Convention, Young Adult Keller Book Festival, Southern Festival of Books, and many more. Shannon grew up in Tennessee where she dreaded all things reading and writing. She didn’t even read her first book for enjoyment until she was twenty-five. After that she was hooked! When she’s not writing, she works as an adjunct math professor and lives on the coast in Florida with her very grouchy dog. Find her online everywhere @segreenauthor.
Viola’s always been that girl from that family, so a scholarship to a prestigious private school in Florida was supposed to be her ticket out of poverty and into a brand-new life. But Viola’s secrets have followed her. Her relationship with the intelligent and gorgeous Riel should have been the salvation she needed—he understands her troubled past better than anyone. But then weird things start to happen.
Frightening messages. Missing personal items.
The unsettling feeling that she’s being watched.
Viola’s never been one to give her trust easily, but she’ll need to trust in Riel if she’s going to survive her stalker. Because she’s not fighting for a new life anymore—she’s fighting to stay alive.
Thirty minutes later, I’m still confused about what went down between me and Riel. I’m irritated, too. I wasn’t pretending to be nice to Mar. Why would he even accuse me of that?
I change into my workout clothes and head to the academy’s fitness center. I want to hit something. Or kick. Or just really sweat.
Looping a towel around my neck, I check the schedule, see kickboxing starts in about twenty, and head straight there.
I step inside the dark room, flip on the dimmer lights, and come to an abrupt stop.
Maintaining a steady rhythm, Riel skips rope in the center of the room, hopping from foot to foot, his smooth motions making it seem like he’s running in place. Why is he working out in the dark?
Probably because he wants to be left alone.
Okay then. I’ll just work out in my little corner and leave him to his thing.
My sudden entrance doesn’t seem to faze him as he spares me a quick glance in the mirror and goes back to looking at his own reflection. I swear I see a muscle twitch in his jaw. But I’m not sure what kind of twitch it is. An irritated one? A concentrated one? Or maybe he’s just chewing gum. Though if it’s an irritated one, I want to know why. I’m the one who deserves to be irritated. Not him. He did wrongly accuse me of pretending with his sister.
I head over to the floor mats and sit down. As I stretch my legs out, I listen to his rhythmic breaths echoing in the otherwise quiet room.
Spreading my legs wide, I bend at the waist and touch my chin to the floor. I move to the right, reaching for my knee, getting a good inner thigh stretch. I do the same to the left and glance up to Riel.
I take in the powerful striations in his legs, arms, and shoulders. The sweat glistening on his body. The muscles popping in his calves as he hops. I’m staring, but I can’t seem to not. He is really kind of perfect.
He clears his throat, and I drag my fascination away from his muscles and up into his face. He cocks a brow, totally busting me staring, and I suddenly have this weird need to show him I can skip, too.
I shoot to my feet and grab a rope of my own. “Mind if I turn on some music?” I ask. “That’s fine,” he says.
I jog over to the stereo that occupies one corner of the room, power on, and pick a station with techno. I pick a spot a couple yards away from him and begin skipping.
Why I need to show him I can skip, I really don’t know. I hadn’t come here intending to skip. I’d come for kickboxing. But seeing him here with that twitchy jaw muscle, coupled with what happened between us in the library, it brings on this competitive side of me.
Riel is still doing the same move he’s been doing since I first walked in, one foot in front of the other, running in place. Kindergarten stuff.
So I do it, too, and after a minute, switch to small up and down hops with both feet together.
He switches, too, apparently in his own competitive mood, and ups the pace.
I match his upped pace and change rhythm, jumping right, left, and back again. He follows suit.
A few minutes later, I cross the rope in front of my body with each jump.
He matches my crossed rope move and double times it. I do, too. A few more minutes tick by, and slowing the pace, I uncross the rope and go back to a normal jumping move. Riel slows, too, and a look of superiority ashes across his face. Oh, hell no. If he thinks my slow pace means he’s won, he has another think coming. I’m just getting started. Like a jumping jack, I move my legs apart then together, apart then together. Riel matches my new movement, increasing the pace. I increase mine, too. I change then, throwing each foot forward with a point of the toe. Riel copies.
I step it up a notch, and he follows.
We continue, staring at each other, heavy gusts of air rushing from our mouths and sweat beading the floor. I can’t help but be overly obsessed with which one of us will drop first.
Then the music abruptly ends, bringing us both to a halted, confused stop.
“Sorry,” a girl apologizes, totally checking Riel out. “We’ve got kickboxing in a few. If you’re not taking the class you’ll have to clear out.”
Chest heaving, I glance at Riel to see his hands on his knees as he gulps for air.
But his breaths come heavier than mine, and I’m tempted to taunt that I’m in better shape. Instead, I walk over to the pegboard where I hang my rope and then retrieve my water bottle. After draining half of it, I turn to see if he’s passed out and find he’s already gone.
I take another swig, getting a bit smug with myself. He probably hadn’t expected me to be able to keep up.
The door reopens then, and Riel peeks his head back in. His lips twitch. “I’ll be ready for a rematch anytime.” Then without giving me a chance to respond, he closes the door.
And I laugh. Guess he and I are okay again.
By: Shannon Greenland