Wednesday, October 16, 2013

UNSPOKEN MEMORIES by Gabbie Duran Blog Tour Author Interview, Giveaway & Excerpt


by: Gabbie S. Duran

a New Adult Contemporary novel 

Release Date: October 11, 2013


She awoke with no memory of who she was, but one clue will lead her to him…

Abigail Adams had it all, she's a gorgeous supermodel, has a wealthy fiancé, and a career on the rise. But that quickly changes when she wakes up in the hospital not remembering anything. The only memories she does have are not her own, but of a total stranger.

When Abigail discovers that her fiancé has been cheating on her, she leaves him and runs to the arms of the one man she is hoping will give her the answers she seeks.

Matt Garcia is used to playing the field, keeping his heart guarded, but then Abigail Adams unexpectedly shows up at his door hoping he will be the answer she is looking for. Will he finally learn to take a break from his no strings attached lifestyle and show her that she doesn’t need her past, but the future he is willing to offer her?

With every unspoken memory she regains, will she learn to open up her heart to a total stranger, or will she keep it guarded like he does?


I walk up to the door and ring the doorbell. My stomach is turning from the nerves and I feel like I’m ready to throw up. 
At first, there isn't an answer, so I ring it again. After a minute I start to feel impatient with still no answer, so I start to knock hard on the door. 
I finally hear a voice yelling from inside, "Yeah, yeah, hold your horses man. I'm coming!"
The door opens and the first thing that hits me is the smell. Whoever's in there is spending some major time with someone named Mary Jane. I’m almost high just with the first whiff I take.
I’m disappointed when I notice who has answered the door. It’s not who I was expecting, which saddens me. It isn’t the guy in the picture that Frank sent me, which must mean this must be the roommate, or a friend. He has some running shorts on and a tight white shirt, which stretches over his broad shoulders and muscles. 
This guy is huge. He has bulging arms that look like they might be wider than my legs, and probably are. He’s a bit shorter than I am but I’m wearing heels after all. By the looks of this guy he must spend some major time in the gym with the weights. His hair is cut really short all over and he's staring at me like he's trying really hard to figure out who I am. Then he shakes his head like he's trying to clear it.
"Is Matthew Garcia here?" I nervously ask. 
I'm pretty sure from the smells I'm getting from inside that he is stoned out of his mind.  
He is still staring at me, with bugged eyes and his mouth slightly open. Finally a light bulb must have turned on in his head because he finally speaks. 
"Dude, you’re Abigail fucking Adams." 
I roll my eyes. "No, I’m Mother Teresa, I’ve come to save your soul. Again, is Matthew Garcia here?" 
I'm afraid by the way he's staring at me that I'm getting nowhere. But, the now confused look on his face makes me smile for the first time since all this drama has started. 
“Dude, are you sure you’re real?” Then tilting his head, he says, “This must be some really good shit.” 
I'm getting really frustrated at this point, I came all this way and right now I’m kind of out of patience from the three hour drive up here. As I'm about to give up, I hear a voice behind the guy staring at me.
"Dude, what the hell are you yelling about out here?" says the voice walking to the door.
When I see who it is, I get excited. It's him! It’s really him. I stare at him and even though I know his name already, just seeing him makes my excitement accelerate. Like I really know who he is and I've missed him so much. The next thing I know I'm throwing myself at him and hugging him. 
He automatically catches me, but stiffens up as I’m holding him, awkwardly tapping me on the back with his hand and then pushes me away so he can get a clear view of my face. He looks confused, which is understandable when a stranger throws herself at you. I realize what I’ve just done, and it makes me feel embarrassed; I shouldn’t have thrown myself at him like that.
That's when he notices who I am and his jaw drops open. Matthew is holding a joint in his hand, looks down at it, and then hands it over to the first guy. "Here dude, I think this shit is making me trip." 
Big muscled guy standing next to us gets all excited and starts hopping back and forth on his feet. "Dude, I'm pretty sure you’re not tripping, if you see what I'm seeing.” He draws his eyebrows forward in doubt. 
“You’re seeing her, right?” He doubts again with his eyes. “It's Abigail Adams standing in our front door, right? I’m not tripping?" He gets excited again. 
I decide to take over the conversation. "You’re Matthew Garcia, right?” I ask, looking back at Matthew, and trying to ignore a gawking muscled guy.
He nods his head and responds, “Just Matt,” and holds out his hand for me to shake.
As I’m shaking his hand I say, “Is there any way I could come in? I have something I need to talk to you about." walking through the front door not waiting for the invitation. 
They both look at each other with dazed looks and nod. Matt takes a couple of fast steps to catch up with me and begins to lead me into the house. The first thing I notice is that even though I have heels on, we are matched in height, and he's not as physically big as the first guy. 
He's still fit all right, but he's slim and he has enough toned muscle to make you drool. He looks like he should be in an Abercrombie ad.
As leads me into the living room, he starts guiding me with his hand on my back, and I can feel the warmth in his touch. It sends a thrilling chill through my body and I get excited. Then I quickly remember that this guy is still a total stranger at this point, so I’ll just blame my excitement on my nerves.
When we enter the living room, I notice it looks like a typical college bachelor pad. Dirty carpet, stained couches, beer bottles, and cans are everywhere. Including on the coffee table, and counters. 
Taking a quick glance at the available seating, I take the only recliner in the living room. It's made of what looks of black leather and I'm praying it’s clean enough for me to sit on it. 
Facing Matt, I notice he and his friend are both staring at me and they still have confused looks on both of their faces. 
I fully take in Matt when he sits down and although I saw him in my dream, seeing him in person is not the same. He’s hotter than the picture or my dreams. 
He’s wearing a shirt similar to the one in my dream, a cutoff and it’s emphasizing every muscle on his chest, and arms making him look sexier. 
His arms are just as toned as his legs and he’s sitting there with his elbows on his knees leaning towards me which emphasizes a tattoo on his right outer bicep. It’s an angel wing, starting at the top of his shoulder, ending with the tip at his elbow. 
It’s beautiful.
His eyes are light brown and the curl in his long lashes make those eyes pop. As I’m looking straight into his eyes, my body starts to melt from weakness. 
How in the world can someone’s stare do this? I feel like I can’t concentrate from him looking at me with those eyes. 
The smell of their friend is still really heavy in the air, so maybe that’s what’s causing this reaction. 
"Can you open up a window or the patio door maybe, please? I need to stay focused for this conversation."
Yes, I’ll just blame it on the Mary Jane.
Matt gets up and heads over to the patio door, opening it. Once he’s done, he comes back, and sits down on the edge of the couch closest to me once again. 
"Umm, not that we're not happy you’re here, but, why are you here?" he inquires. He seems pretty calm and under control. Even though I bet he’s as baked as the other guy.
The entire care ride here I was thinking about what I would say when I arrived, but now my mind is blank, so I start talking in hopes that it will come back to me.
"Well, you see, I woke up from a coma last week and I seem to have amnesia, I have no clue who I am, other than my name, and that's only because I guess that's really not hard to figure out. But, in reality I don't have any memories at all. The only thing that I could remember when I woke up was a phone number.” I’m pretty sure I’m rambling at this point, but I continue, “I hired a private investigator to track the number and he gave me your information," I say, pointing my chin towards Matt. 
Although I have my hands folded into each other on my lap, they’re starting to get sweaty again from the nerves. The two guys are both still looking like they’re trying to absorb the information, this must be a major buzz kill for their high, but I need answers dammit, and at this point they are the only answer to the number in my head.  
"So let me get this straight? Other than your name and Matt’s number, you have no memories at all?” the big guy asks, trying to figure all this out as well. 
"Yes," I whisper, looking down at my hands.  
Matt is staring at me with his head cocked to the side.
"But, why my number?” He points his finger at himself. “I've never met you and I'm pretty sure we don't run in the same circle."
"I don't know either, but I kept repeating the number in my head, like it was natural to me. I tried texting you last night but I didn't get a response." 
Matt takes his phone from the coffee table and starts searching through it. "Oh, you must be the 206 number. I was kind of busy at the moment with someone,” he says with a wicked grin. “It was a pretty crazy night last night. Since I didn't recognize the number I just ignored it. Sorry about that," he says, placing the phone in his pocket of his shorts. 
With the look he’s just given me I’m pretty sure it was a girl that he was busy with, and I don’t blame him. If I knew him well enough I would want to be busy with him myself. 
Where the hell are all these thoughts coming from? I have to get myself under control.
I try to distract myself from my carnal thoughts. "It's okay, I pretty much headed over here as soon as I got your information this morning from the PI. I needed to see you, the thing is I've had dreams about you too," I say, looking straight at Matt, while biting my lower lip in embarrassment.
He thoroughly looks confused, his eyebrows arching up in surprise. I know exactly how he feels. The other guy’s mouth drops in an O, and then he lightly shakes his head, before taking a sip of his beer. He hands it to Matt and he does the same. I sit there in silence, giving them time to absorb everything I’ve said.
 Trying to distract myself again from the tension beginning to build up inside, I begin to look around the room. I notice on one of the walls is a wall hanger, with a whole bunch of medals hanging from them. I walk over to them and start looking at them. As I'm doing this I get another memory. 
This one is of Matt and me. A crowd of people surrounds us, as a medal is being placed around my neck. I feel ecstatic as I hug him. I’m looking behind him at the big banner that says "Portland Marathon" in big green letters. It’ a finish line, and by the year on the banner it was just last year.  
Excited, I turn to face Matt, this must be where we met. Even though I don’t remember reading anything on Google that said I was a runner. "We ran the Portland Marathon together last year, that's where we must have met." 
He gets up and comes over, standing next me and begins concentrating on the medals with me. 
"No, we didn't," he clips out, keeping his eyes on the medals.  
"Yes, we did, you’re in my memory and we’re crossing the finish line together.” At least I’m pretty sure we did. “They gave us our medals together and we are hugging."
Matt looks back at me with a fierce glare. His chest is beginning to rise and fall, and he’s shaking his head. His eyes turn glassy like he wants to cry, but he's fighting to hold it back.  “I didn't run it with you,” he insists, staring at me in disbelief, and irritation laces his voice. “I ran it with my sister. It was the last race we ran together." 
Oh shit! Then why am I having this vision? It has to mean something, I was pretty sure it was my memory. It felt so real. 
"Are you sure? I’m pretty sure I’m right. I clearly see the memory. It was only last year, and I'm pretty sure I was there with you." Can I be wrong? No, I wasn’t asleep when I got this one, so I know it has to be an actual memory. "What about my dream of running with you in the park, that has to be real, right? There's a trail in the background."
This makes Matt angry and he walks away. "Now you’re fucking with me. Who's been feeding you her info?" 
"What are you talking about, nobody is feeding me info. I told you these are the things that I remember. The only things I remember. Besides you, and who is this she you keep referring to?"


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Meet the Author:

Gabbie is a Southern California native, who currently lives in Washington with her wonderful husband, two amazing kids and a senior citizen kitty. When she’s not writing you can find her reading or sneaking off for a run. Some might say it’s a crazy life, but she wouldn’t change anything about it.

Author Interview

What kind of snack/drink is a MUST for you when writing?
Coffee or Sugar Free Red Bull’s are my weakness. I have a variety of snacks in my desk. From green apple flavored snacks, to white chocolate. 

What made you start writing?
My desire to give my book junkie teenager something to read, but my story ended up not being appropriate enough for her to read. Regardless, she’s proud of me either way. 

What is your biggest inspiration source (where do you get your ideas)?
Music… All my stories have a theme song behind them, a song that inspired me to write that story. I actually have to start the song in order to get into the zone for that story. 

Describe your perfect writing space? and where do you actually write?
My perfect writing space would be a private beach, just the sound and view of the waves to distract me, but I actually write at my desk in my bedroom. 

Is writing your full time job? If not, what else do you do?
I’m actually a stay at home mom, with the PTO duties and all.

What is one surprising fact about you that not too many people know?
I’ve driven through 17 different states in the U.S. 

What are you writing now? 
I just wrapped up another love story titled ‘With You’ and I’m jumping straight into the sequel of Unspoken Memories, without taking too long of a break. 

What is the first Romance book you remember reading?  What is the last book you read? The first book was a Danielle Steele novel when I was about 14. My mom is a huge fan of hers and has the books everywhere in the house. I was bored one day, picked up a book, and fell in love. 
The last book I read was Chelsea Camaron’s Crash and Burn. 

Who is your current book boyfriend/crush? 
Harrison from Beyond Repair. He’s an ex Marine with tattoos and muscles who likes to work on cars. I can only picture the things he can help me with. 

What was the last book you read that gave you a "book hangover?" 
Chelsea’s Crash and Burn. That one kept me thinking of how much I want to help women in that situation. 

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