Blog Tour: Somewhere Only We Know by Cheyanne Young + Giveaway

Hi everyone! Today we'll be featuring Cheyanne Young's YA romance book Somewhere Only We Know (wait is that a song?hmm...) Below is the excerpt and a giveaway for a chance to win a signed copy of the book! How awesome is that right? And what makes this day more awesome? I finally got my copy of Opposition *happy dance* WOHOO! Will post a pic on my IG account later :) Thanks for stopping by guys!

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Somewhere Only We Know

Author: Cheyanne Young

Publisher: 336 Love

Date of Publication: June 15, 2014

Genre: YA romance

Sadie Bradford’s life is one anxiety attack after another. All she wants is to escape life's realities for the summer and hang out with her best friend Aaron. But her grandmother has other plans: Sadie will get a job. Sadie will do volunteer work. Sadie will make new friends - friends without brain injuries that make them forget everything...friends that aren’t Aaron.

While Sadie struggles to survive her anxiety with all these new changes, she finds an escape when she dreams herself into the beautiful world of Isola Fiona. It’s a place that cures memory loss and anxiety. It’s a place where she and Aaron can fall in love. 

But after dragging Aaron along with her to her dream world, things take a turn. Every time they return home, Sadie’s anxiety is a little better but Aaron’s memory is still gone. And Isola Fiona may not be much of a dream after all. As Sadie realizes that Isola Fiona is as real as her anxiety, she rushes to change the course of fate and make things right, but she may be too late...

My brain tingles with the static of an oncoming anxiety attack. Where the hell is he?

“Sadie, Sadie, Bo-badie!” It’s Aaron’s dad, waving at me with a spatula in one hand. And, wow, he’s had a few beers.

“Hi John,” I say, breaking away from Grandma who’s already hugging and sharing pointless chit chat with Aaron’s aunt Shelly. “Where’s Aaron?”

He flourishes his hand in one direction and then the other. “I don’t know darling. He’s somewhere.”

The cousins in the pool laugh at this, and I realize all three of them are staring at me. And laughing. And probably just waiting for me to turn around so they can say things about my scraggly hair or my bony elbows or how I’m totally blushing now because I’m standing all alone desperate for Aaron. I could strangle Grandma for making me come.

Since everyone is gathered around the pool, I take refuge in an old plastic chair by an overgrown palm tree next to the house. It’s far enough away that I can’t hear anyone’s specific conversations, just the rumble of their laughter as it fills the night air. I play solitaire on my cell phone to look busy and count the minutes since I’ve been here. Three.

Where is he?

The chair next to me creaks, catching me off guard and sending a shiver of panic through my chest as I look up expecting to see Aaron. But it isn’t him, it’s his aunt. I swallow the lump in my throat and stare out at the pool.

“Looking for Aaron?” she asks. I nod. A warm breeze blows the scent of her hairspray in my direction. By the looks of her silver and blonde hair beehive on top of her head, she probably used an entire can.

 “He’s in the house,” she says. I can feel her eyes watching me as I pretend to care about watching the sun setting in the distance, its golden rays bouncing off the tree branches and pool water. “When he saw you coming he said he had to change clothes.”

“Oh, okay,” I say, probably sounding as relieved as I felt. He should be here any second.

“Seems odd that a boy who is just friends with a girl would run off and make himself look nice when she comes over.” She’s still staring at me and I’m still totally feigning interest in the sunset. “You know his condition. Don’t you?”

“Yes, I know he has a small memory problem.”

“Small?” She snorts. “Aaron’s brain was severely damaged from high fever when he was two years old. He suffers from a lot more than a small memory problem. His mind doesn’t understand certain things.”

“Okay,” I say. I check my phone for the time. It’s been two more minutes. Come on, Aaron. Jeans and a shirt. Doesn’t take that long.

“I hope you aren’t filling his head with things.” Her voice couldn’t possibly get any more condescending as she reaches out and touches my arm. “Or taking advantage of him and his disorder.”

I can’t help but look at her now. “What do you mean?” My gentle smile masks my annoyance. It’s the kind of smile that says I’m as innocent as Mother Teresa.

“He doesn’t understand about sex.” Her eyes wiggle as she says the dreaded S-word. “That’s what I mean.”

Oh god. My stomach hurts and it’s not just from the chemical smell of hair products. I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want to talk about anything. But I really don’t want to talk about this.

“You are his only friend, so it would be easy for you to take advantage of him and I just hope that you aren’t doing that.”

“No,” I say, my voice barely a whisper as I recite the line I’ve said so many times over the years. “We are just friends.”

“I know you’re friends. I also know you’re influencing him in many ways and I don’t think that’s a very smart thing to do.”

“Okay?” My fingernails dig into my palms. I briefly wonder if she’d just disappear if I quit responding and making eye contact.

“John said you and Aaron talked about him taking vocational classes for his senior year. He doesn’t need to bother with that because he can apply for disability when he’s eighteen.”

“I had nothing to do with that,” I say. “Aaron signed up for welding class all by himself. He doesn’t want to go on disability. He wants to work.”

“Well he won’t be working. No one will hire him.” Her hand pats my arm again. Her lips stay locked in a tight smile even when I flinch at her touch. “Tell me, darling, that you won’t fill his head with ideas like that. I need to hear you say it.”

“We don’t talk about stuff like that,” I lie.

“And you don’t talk about sex either? You don’t let him think you’re his girlfriend?”

“God, no. No, just, no.” Can’t the woman tell by the deep red in my cheeks that I don’t talk to him about stuff like that? What is wrong with her? And where the hell is Aaron?

She nods, her lips pursed together disapprovingly. I want to drown in the pool. What a bitch. There’s another pill in my pocket, left over from the last time I wore these shorts. If only I had something to drink, I could take it. My heart thumps in my chest, pounding hard inside my rib cage just begging me to grab a drink from the cooler and swallow it down, but it hasn’t been more than fifteen minutes since I took the last one. They are meant to be taken once, maybe twice a day.

But I want it, so bad.

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About the Author 

Cheyanne is a native Texan with a fear of cold weather and a coffee addiction that probably needs an intervention. She loves books, sarcasm, nail polish and paid holidays. She lives near the beach with her family, one spoiled rotten puppy and a cat who is most likely plotting to take over the world.

She also writes under the pen name Amy Sparling.

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