Best Kind Of Broken is out in paperback today!! Previously, it's only been available in e-book, but I'm soooooo excited that you can now get it in actual book format too! I just ADORE Chelsea Fine and I love this series so much!
About Best Kind Of Broken:
SOMETIMES MOVING ON MEANS MOVING IN
Pixie Marshall wishes every day she could turn back time and fix the past. But she can't. And the damage is done. She's hoping that a summer of free room and board working with her aunt at the Willow Inn will help her forget. Except there's a problem: the resident handyman is none other than Levi Andrews. The handsome quarterback was once her friend-and maybe more-until everything changed in a life-shattering instant. She was hoping to avoid him, possibly forever. Now he's right down the hall and stirring up feelings Pixie thought she'd long buried . . .
Levi can't believe he's living with the one person who holds all his painful memories. More than anything he wants to make things right, but a simple "sorry" won't suffice-not when the tragedy that scarred them was his fault. Levi knows Pixie's better off without him, but every part of him screams to touch her, protect her, wrap her in his arms, and kiss away the pain. Yet even though she's so close, Pixie's heart seems more unreachable than ever. Seeing those stunning green eyes again has made one thing perfectly clear-he can't live without her.
*Previously reviewed HERE on Feb. 23, 2014*
Are you guys ready for feels? If you're not don't pick up this book. I mean it, because it's full of feels-inducing chapters, characters, and quotes you'll want to paint across your wall. Best Kind of Broken is told in a dual POV, and I know a lot of you really don't like dual POV, but I'm telling you - you'll like this. Chelsea Fine is a master of the dual point of view. The story follows Sarah (better known as Pixie) and Levi, following a tragedy that not only brought them the loss of a loved one, but also the loss of each other - whether they knew it or not. I'm pretty critical of books that broach the subject of loss on such a tragic scale - only because it has to be done right.. and there is not a single negative thing I can say about how Chelsea dove into the subject matter.
This book couldn't have been easy to write, because there were times when it wasn't easy to read. Not because I didn't want to keep reading, or because the writing was bad, but just because the subject matter is hard. It's sad, and sometimes it brings back memories that I would rather forget - or that I think I would rather forget. It's books like this that make me realize I don't really want to forget - that even the parts of life that suck, are worth living, and most of all, worth feeling.
We see a lot of these books in the young adult genre, two of my all time favorite books are about loss and love and life after it all and they're young adult. I think it's hard to broach subjects like this in the ever growing New Adult genre because people have such lame expectations for the genre. Like it's supposed to be some guilty pleasure that you can get lost in and it's supposed to be steamy and sexy and that's all. Chelsea Fine breaks the mold with this book - proving that new adult can be steamy, sexy, and meaningful..without being corny. If you can handle a couple of intense sexual scenes (and let me be clear: these are not gross, raunchy scenes, they're just not for 13 year olds), then definitely pick up this book. It is worth every second you will spend reading it, and worth every dime you will spend buying it (and also on the kleenex you'll need while reading).
Plus, Levi is really freaking hot. So, I mean.. if you hate things that make you emotional, you'll love it because her characters jump right off the page and make you want to do awesome things with them (and maybe even to them). I absolutely can't wait to read the next in this series (bonus material in the book, by the way: two chapters of the second book, out in June). But most of all, I just can't wait for you to read The Best Kind of Broken. Happy Reading!
BUY THE BOOK:
The door to the dining room swings open again and this time Levi walks through, a box of tools in his hand.
Cougar Mable immediately lights up. “Morning, Levi!”
“Morning, Mable.” He smiles at her. He scowls at me.
I notice his face is now clean-shaven and a part of me misses his scruff—what? No. NO. I do not miss his scruff. Missing scruff is for weirdos.
I scowl back at him and start grating Swiss cheese.
“Where’s the fire alarm in here?” he asks in his work voice. It’s a very different voice than his get-out-of-my-way voice or his if-you-want-hot-water-wake-up-earlier voice.
Mable points to the wall, looking far too happy to be of service, and I keep my eyes down as he moves past me. As I sprinkle cheese over the quiche, I can’t help but notice how grated Swiss kind of looks like white scruff.
I’m not a weirdo.
Quiche finished, I turn to start sautéing vegetables and my gaze automatically darts to Levi. He’s so distracting. His arms are all raised, and his shoulders are all broad, and he’s fixing crap, and it’s just… it’s just… annoying.
You know what else is annoying? The fact that the freaking fire alarm is right by the stove.
With a huff and a puff and some choice words in my head, I grab my sliced bell peppers and force my feet to the stove. I throw the vegetables into a frying pan, grab a wooden spoon, and ignore Levi’s close proximity.
My body hums.
I ignore that too.
I steal a glance in his direction and watch as the corded muscles in his forearm flex as he unscrews something on the alarm box. Why does he have so many muscles in his forearm? That can’t be healthy.
I drop my eyes to the frying pan and focus on bell peppers, because bell peppers are interesting and they don’t have backs the size of Alaska or copious amounts of forearm muscles.
The forearm muscles that I’m not thinking about lightly brush my shoulder, and the humming inside my body knots together and zips around like a bumblebee on crack.
I casually turn down the heat on the stove, like that’s the reason I’m suddenly a human vibrator, and go back to stirring. Levi goes back to screwing.
I’m thinking about bell peppers.
Levi brushes against me again, except this time his forearm grazes my breast and my body immediately goes wild, like I’m some love-starved teenager, and the humming dives low in my belly and the stove gets hotter and my breaths get shallow and suddenly bell peppers are the sexiest vegetable on earth.
Welcome to Hotel Horny Women, home of scruffy cheese and sensual produce.
From the corner of my eye, I catch his Adam’s apple bobbing with a nervous swallow, which can mean only one thing. The boob brush was an accident.
If he had been trying to cop a feel with his Hulk-ish forearm, I could have responded with some kind of snarky “you’re a pervert” comment. But it wasn’t on purpose and somehow that makes it sexier, and now the cracked-out bumblebee is buzzing in my nether regions and my hands are starting to tingle and why the HELL is this stove so hot?
I turn the burner down another notch and take a slow, deep breath. I have a boyfriend. A great boyfriend. So this sexual frustration I feel around Levi is nothing to get my bee-loving panties in a bunch about. I just need to calm down.
Levi lowers his arm for a moment, his eyes still on the alarm, and stretches his neck.
Ah, the neck stretch. The universal sign of stress. Well, at least I’m not alone in my frustration. My hot, distracting, pants-are-so-inconvenient frustration.
Who said anything about pants? I am NOT thinking about pants—or lack thereof. Damn you, bell peppers!
I toss the wooden spoon to the side and move back to the counter, where the threat of being turned on by a handyman or, you know, a sautéed vegetable is much less severe.
I stare at the scruffy quiche and bite back a groan. What was I thinking, living under the same roof as Levi? There’s no way I’ll survive the summer.
Hell, I can barely survive breakfast.
About Chelsea Fine:
Chelsea lives in Phoenix, Arizona, where she spends most of her time writing stories, painting murals, and avoiding housework at all costs. She's ridiculously bad at doing dishes and claims to be allergic to laundry. Her obsessions include: superheroes, coffee, sleeping-in, and crazy socks. She lives with her husband and two children, who graciously tolerate her inability to resist teenage drama on TV and her complete lack of skill in the kitchen.