It Started with a Whisper by Shannon McCrimmon
Genre: YA Contemporary
Release Date: June 1st 2016
Summary: Five simple words: That's all it takes to change the course of 18-year-old Josie Graham's life inthe summer of 1989. Josie is a musical prodigy: She can sing, play guitar and is a natural on the piano. Instead ofspending her last summer before college traveling the country with her rock star father, she's made a last minute decision to spend it working at her Aunt Bernie's inn, in Ambler's Fork, North Carolina. But what could have turned her life-long passion for music into a hatred for an industry she's worked so hard to get into? Her aunt's inn seems like the perfect place to escape, to clear her head and figure things out, but on her first day there, she almost drowns before Chic Hobbs saves her. Chic wants nothing more in life than to leave Ambler's Fork and his sordid past behind—at least not until that day Josie Graham swims into his life. The problem is, Chic's got a secret. It's a secret he's keeping from Josie, and he's worried ifit gets out, it'll ruin everything, and she'll judge him for his past mistakes the way everyone else in town has. Josie is carrying a burden of her own. One that made her run to Ambler's Fork - away from her family and everything she's ever known. Chic saved Josie once. Can he save her again? Or will Josie rescue him this time?Add to GoodreadsBuy Links:Amazon It Started with a Whisper video: About the AuthorShannon McCrimmon was born and raised in Central Florida. She attended Rollins College and earned a Master's Degree in Counseling. In 2008, she moved to the upstate of South Carolina. Itwas the move that inspired her to write her first novel. She currently lives in Greenville, South Carolina with her husband and toy poodle. She'd love to hear from you! Connect with her atshannonmccrimmon.comAuthor Links: Website│Twitter│Facebook│Goodreads│PinterestGIVEAWAY: a Rafflecopter giveaway Blog Tour Organized by: YA Bound Book Tours
Excerpt 1: I feel like I'm in a prison cell. Iron bars cover the door and windows. There's a putrid, moldy scent, like dirty socks and a boy's sweaty locker room. The overweight, hairy Sasquatch working behind the counter looks like the type my mother warned me about. Yet here I am, standing inside Donny's Pawn Shop, handing over my precious guitar Dad gifted me years ago. Part of me wants to snatch it back from him. Tell him I'm not selling it after all. Getting rid of it this way feels wrong somehow, like I'm cutting ties with a former part of myself. Still, I don't think I can ever allow myself to play it again. Not now anyway.
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