Between Order and Randomness: Blog/ Exerpt Tour & Giveaway: Inspire by Cora Carmack

Ahh Guys!! I just finished Inspire last night and I could not be more excited to be part of this blog tour. I have an amazing Exerpt for you! But before we get to that part. Lets give you a bit of a synopsis of the book!

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Synopsis

Kalliope lives with one purpose.

To inspire.

As an immortal muse, she doesn’t have any other choice. It’s part of how she was made. Musicians, artists, actors—they use her to advance their art, and she uses them to survive. She moves from one artist to the next, never staying long enough to get attached. But all she wants is a different life— a normal one. She’s spent thousands of years living lie after lie, and now she’s ready for something real.

Sweet, sexy, and steady, Wilder Bell feels more real than anything else in her long existence. And most importantly… he’s not an artist. He doesn’t want her for her ability. But she can’t turn off the way she influences people, not even to save a man she might LOVE

. Because in small doses, she can help make something beautiful, but her ability has just as much capacity to destroy as it does to create. The longer she stays, the more obsessed Wilder will become. It’s happened before, and it never turns out well for the mortal.

Her presence may inspire genius.

But it breeds madness, too.

Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iTunes | Kobo

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Cora Carmack is a twenty-something writer who likes to write about twenty-something characters. She's done a multitude of things in her life-- boring jobs (like working retail), Fun jobs (like working in a theatre), stressful jobs (like teaching), and dream jobs (like writing). She enjoys placing her characters in the most awkward situations possible, and then trying to help them get a boyfriend out of it. Awkward people need love, too. She is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Losing It series.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

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Exerpt

All I want is to wash that away. I can inspire genius works of art, moving music, writing that pricks the soul of humanity. I can elevate a person to the kind of success of which they’ve never even dreamed. But at the moment, I feel like none of that means anything if I can’t make him smile. I reach out my hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, he takes it. Then I hold tight and turn the showerhead on him.

The shocked look on his face as the water sprays up his chest draws a laugh from my throat. I'm not completely psycho, so I don't turn the water on his face, but he wastes no time taking advantage of my hesitation. He steps right into the shower with me, and I jump back, slamming into the tile wall. In my surprise I get a little wild with the water and end up catching him in the face anyway. I cover my mouth with my hand to stop myself from laughing, and he takes hold of my other wrist, using my own hand to spray the water back on me. It hits me in the neck first, then as I try to pull away, sprays down my chest. I gasp as the water soaks through my dress, and if he didn't notice my lack of bra earlier, it won't take much for him to notice now. I fight back, trying to regain control of the nozzle, and instead I end up pointing the stream of water straight up and it splashes down on both our heads.

I squeal, and try to squeeze around him, thinking maybe I can get out of the door. My feet slip on the wet floor, and he catches me around the waist, laughing. "Oh, no you don't. You started this." Another jet of water comes toward my face, and I manage to turn just in time so that it only catches my hair and neck. I look down, and can't control my laughter any longer. He'd stepped in still wearing his shoes, and they're soaked now. As are his jeans and the bottom of my dress. We probably look ridiculous. In my complete and utter delirium, I forget about keeping a tight hold on the showerhead, and Wilder succeeds in wrestling it away from me. "I've got you now."

He steps back, lifts his arm to aim, and I squeeze my eyes shut. I raise my hands to cover my face, but the spray doesn't come. Hesitantly, I peek out from between my fingers to find him staring at me, his eyes dark and piercing. I'm aware then of just the way his soaked shirt clings to his toned body, and I have no doubt that my own clothes are plastered to my wet skin. Heat pools between my thighs, and I squeeze them together to ease the sudden ache there. He moves in close, and I catch my breath. He circles one arm around me, and greedily I pull my own arms up to loop around his neck. But he doesn't come in for a kiss like I expect.....

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