Pamela DuMond is the writer who discovered Erin Brockovich's life story, thought it would make a great movie and pitched it to 'Hollywood'. How cool is that? Check out her new book The Story of You and Me.
Title: The Story of You and Me
Author: Pamela DuMond
Release date: September 17, 2013
Genre: Coming-of-Age, Contemporary Romance
Age Group: New Adult, Mature Young Adult
Links to the book:
Book Description:
She's driven to save a life.
He's haunted by breaking one.
Some secrets are too risky to share.
But nothing's more dangerous than falling in love...
Nineteen-year-old Sophie doesn’t listen to the naysayers because she has hope. The kind of hope that makes you do weird things—like travel two thousand miles away from everyone she knows and loves to a strange city.
So what if her first night in Los Angeles starts with a small misstep—a brief trip to the ER after twenty-one-year-old Alejandro, the hottest guy she’s ever met, saves her during a bar fight on the USCLA campus.
The stakes are high for Sophie—life and death—as she seeks answers to dark questions in a city that can be a slice of heaven, or a piece of hell. She’s running out of time on her journey to find healing. Falling for a guy isn’t part of her plan. But healing doesn’t always come the way you think you need it.
Sophie’s healing is six-foot-two-inches tall, has stunning hazel eyes, black, shiny hair and a rock solid chest that shelters her. Her healing is Alejandro.
But he’s not your typical college party boy—he has a dangerous past. Sophie isn’t the only one who keeps secrets. As they fall in love, he fears his truth might hurt her. And Sophie doesn’t know if she has the courage to tell him:
He can’t break her—because she’s already broken.
A Story of Hope. A Story of Love. A Story of Redemption.
About the Author
Pamela DuMond is the writer who discovered Erin Brockovich's life story, thought it would make a great movie and pitched it to 'Hollywood'.
She's addicted to The X Factor. The movies Love Actually and The Bourne trilogy (with Matt Damon -- not that other actor guy,) make her cry every time she watches them. (Like -- a thousand.) She likes her cabernet hearty, her chocolate dark and she lives for a good giggle.
When she's not writing Pamela's also a chiropractor and cat wrangler. She loves reading, the beach, yoga, movies, animals, her family and friends. She lives in Venice, California with her furballs. If she ever gets her act together, she might even blog more often.
Author social media links:
EXCERPT
“Goodnight, Bonita.”
“Goodnight, Ralph.” I smiled and walked to my apartment’s door and put the right key in the lock.
“Wait! Who’s Ralph?”
I turned and regarded him. He looked confused. Gorgeous, delicious, but confused. I was so good at messing with Alpha boys. “Oh, gosh. I’m just an innocent Cheesehead.” I shrugged my shoulders, batted my eyes and pretended to swoon. “What do I know?”
“Apparently more than I gave you credit for,” he said.
“About time.” I opened the door to my place and stepped inside. “Thanks for—”
“What do I get when I figure it out?” He stared at me. “I mean—when I figure out the Ralph reference I should at least win a prize or something for my efforts.”
Dr. Tung put a hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him back down. “You have energy shut off from accident that happened about four years ago.”
“You were in an accident?” I asked.
“You’re not an official Angeleno until you’ve had your first fender-bender,” Alex said. “It’s practically a rite of passage.”
Dr. Tung stuck a needle in Alex’s chest and then—bam, bam, bam, three needles in his right ankle and foot. “You need to release that energy so chi flows. So life flows.”
“I’m not a human pin-cushion, you know?” He squirmed.
“Stop moving,” I said. “You’re going to screw up the needles. You don’t want to do that.”
Alex frowned but stopped fidgeting. “Fine. But, I’m doing this for you, Sophie.”
Dr. Tung stuck a few needles in his ear. And one in his nose.
He sneezed, which didn’t help matters. “Dammit!” He was filled with needles, half naked and wearing a stupid gown. He looked at me like a miserable puppy that was getting shots at the vet.
I started giggling. I knew it was wrong. Very wrong. But I couldn’t help it.
“Stop laughing,” Alex hissed. “You’re going to screw up the needles. God knows you don’t want to screw up the needles. Because we could actually be having a normal date.”
“But we’re not on a date,” I said.
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