Callum & Harper Blog Tour and Giveaway!

Welcome to the Callum & Harper "The 25 Day Tour of Bad Aces"  Blog Tour!! I have her Top 10 answers and a wonderful excerpt from the book. Also, if you can hold out until the end...there is a chance to win a signed copy of Callum & Harper.

Everyone please welcome Fisher Amelie...

1. guilty pleasure?
   Reality can never compare to imagination. It's probably why I live in mine most hours of the day. I'm always impatient to escape to my own private world.
   Reading….But my reading could be considered something of epic proportions. I read close to five books a week. Yeah, my laundry suffers, my floor is blanketed by toys and funny children but by God do I get the fodder I need for my writing. It is the most amazing experience in the world, imagining characters and deciding who they'll be, isn't it?  
      Wait a second, did I just totally support a possible case of lunacy against myself?
 
2. 1 book you could read over and over?
      Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier.
      Rebecca is the queen of the subtle thriller but more so, is a study of jealousy. Every inch of the book is crawling with mystery and intrigue. Du Maurier has a knack for the true puzzle. There is never a moment where you are quite certain of anything at all. Facts are facts until thrown out as fiction. She is truly talented and I can only hope to aspire to a tenth of her talent.

3. fictional character you would love to spend the day with?
Puck from Julie Kagawa's The Iron Fey Series. Good God! Wouldn't he be the most delicious entertainment?
Mischief has always been something I've been too chicken to allow myself to truly be a part of, though, and I hate to admit this, I've always been attracted to. Not evil mischief. Fun, ornery mischief. The kind that Puck is extraordinarily adept at.
Plus, he's a bona fide hottie.
Funny/Entertaining? Check. Gorgeous? Check.
I'll take one Puck, please.

4. one thing you cannot leave the house without?
      My Kindle. Hey, you never know when you're going to be sitting in the Chic-fil-a line for a few minutes or standing at the DMV. Instant entertainment, baby.

5. fav song/singer?
      This is so HARD! Um, right now? I've got 'I'm On Fire' by Stateless on repeat. Really puts me in the mood for the dark scenes. Mwuahahaha! *clears throat* Um, anyway, about the 3:45 mark, the song gets all sexy and amazing. If I'm listening to it, I have to close my eyes at that part. I don't have a choice. 

      6. hobby?
      I've played the violin for *Smothers hand over mouth* years…Let's just say, a long time. Revealing how long would also reveal my real age and I'm afraid I'd have to kill you if that information was to leak out.

7. fave movie/actor and or/actress?
      BILL FREAKING MURRAY is the best actor on the face of this planet! I'm partial to him in Zombieland, although his role is minimal. All time favorite movie? Hmm, this is equally difficult, but I'd have to say Groundhog Day. Yup, Groundhog Day but Planes, Trains, and Automobiles is very a close second, though Murray wasn't it that one. LOL. The scene where he confronts the car rental lady is highlarious. 
      "People like blood sausage, too. People are morons." - Phil Connors
      p.s. "That'll do, pig."
8. one place you would love to visit?
Rome. (Why couldn't it be build in a day? I want to know.) I studied Latin for years and years. I love the language. I want to visit its roots.
 
9. fav food?
      Would you judge me harshly if I told you my favorite food was the green bean? Alright, fine. My favorite 'dish' is the Parmesan Crusted Chicken from B.J.'s Restaurant and Brewhouse. I know, I know, it's chain but it is DELICIOUS! If I were on death row, it would be my last meal.
      Actually, if you'll just excuse me for a second. Be right back.
      *Beep, beep, beboop boop* Yes, BJ's? I'd like to order your Parmesan Crusted Chicken for pick-up. Fine. Yes. Okay, thank you."
      Alright, gotta' wrap this up, folks. Gotta be somewhere…no where in particular…in about fifteen minutes.

10. fav color?
      I'm a wee bit partial to the color green, meself. I believe it all started when me Mamai' told me of the beauty of the Oirish landscape. The moss on the stones, the rolling grass hills o'er the tops of the cliffsides.
It's in me blood.
      Ah, green. It's the color of amazingness. It's the most beautiful color ever invented. It is the color of the majority of my t-shirts. And it's the color of right.
      Puck from Julie Kagawa's The Iron Fey Series. Good God! Wouldn't he be the most delicious entertainment?
      Mischief has always been something I've been too chicken to allow myself to truly be a part of, though, and I hate to admit this, I've always been attracted to. Not evil mischief. Fun, ornery mischief. The kind that Puck is extraordinarily adept at.
      Plus, he's a bona fide hottie.
      Funny/Entertaining? Check. Gorgeous? Check.
      I'll take one Puck, please.

Oh have mercy you have the BEST answers ever!! And I think the whole Beep, beep, beboop boop was actually Mr Krabs as a robot (am I the only one who references EVERYTHING to a Spongebob epi?) Oh yeah, gotta love Bill in What About Bob? Me and hubby love that movie.

Ok folks on to the excerpt....



Oh dear Lord, we’re leaving at the same time. If she hadn’t stopped attempting to hide her smile, I would’ve been forced to reveal my plans to toss the stranger outside against the brick and kiss her face until the sun set.

She passed ahead of me and I caught a whiff of her shampoo, involuntarily sending my eyes into the back of my head. This chick was a walking version of the Pixie’s “Where Is My Mind?”. Sexy. As. Hell. Though, now that I think about it. Is hell sexy? I’m guessing not. I continued to watch. Her hips could have kept time with the damn beat.

“Here, let me get that for you,” I said, throwing open the door. The sun cascaded down her copper hair and made her eyes feel transparent.

“Thank you,” she shyly said but offered up a cute lopsided grin as if to say ‘good boy’. Thanks for the bone, buttercup.

She took the rod iron steps down to the sidewalk two at a time, which told me she was in a hurry and since it was nearly sunset, I was willing to bet that she and I were heading in the same direction. I scrambled at what to say while her feet scurried along the pavement.

Say something! “Where you headed?” Clever.

She stopped and turned.

“Uh,” she said, seeming embarrassed. She thought twice for a moment before stiffening her body and raising her chin. “I’m headed to..” Confusion set in. She glanced down at the same piece of paper I, as fate would have it, held in my own hand. “Hope House, on One Hundred and Second,” she finished.

“What a coincidence,” I teased with a slight grin.

“You too?” She asked, one eyebrow raised. Cynical, a product of the system.

“Yup, what can I say? Looks like we share the same amount of luck.”

“Which would be?” She asked.

“Nil, if you’re going to Hope House.”

She laughed at our dire situations which was pretty much all you could do.

         “Want a ride?” I asked. She didn’t answer me, obviously not willing to trust me, so I offered, “Listen, by the time you walk there they’ll be closed and definitely won’t have any spaces open. If you ride with me, at least we have a chance of getting a spot for the night.”

         She sighed. “A valid point,” she said, looking around for my car.

         I’m embarrassed by this. “Uh, “ I said, scratching the stubble on my chin with the backs of my fingers. “I don’t actually own a car.” I point to my vintage nineteen-fifty Indian motorcycle. “Come on. It’s better than walking, right?” I stuck my hands out in offering.

         She smiled slowly in appreciation, her mouth curling up at the sides and her eyes squinting into the sun. Her head bobbed slowly up and down on her neck. A silent yes. “I’d probably pick this over any car on this street.” She stood back and admired it. “Solid black,” she said. I nodded, intrigued. “Nice,” she simply added.

         “You think so? I plan on fixing her up when I get the time and, of course, the money. She’s been good to me, though,” I said, patting the handlebars. “She’s pretty much all I have in this world.” Harper looked at me as if in pity or maybe it was understanding. I really hoped it was understanding because if a girl that beautiful pitied me, I didn’t think I could stand it. “Hop on,” I said. She straddled the back of the leather seat and slid her duffel across her chest to sit behind her. “Uh, you might want to, uh,” I said awkwardly, struggling with how to ask her to push her hair back so I could fit my helmet on her.

Instead, I set the helmet on the seat between her legs and brazenly ran my fingers through her hair. It flowed off her shoulders and settled onto her back. The scent of her shampoo bombarded me one more time and I swayed slightly at the assault but regained my stance. I grabbed the helmet off her lap and fit it onto her head. She giggled at the awkward familiarity of it.

“Sorry,” I said. “But I wouldn’t dream of putting you on the back of my bike without this.”

“It’s alright,” she said, but paused. “Why? Are you an unsafe driver?”

         "No, uh, my parents died in a car accident when I was four,” I said matter-of-factly.

         "Oh, I'm so sorry.” She had the decency to look sincere. That was pretty refreshing, actually.

         "It's alright," I sighed, shrugging my shoulders. "I barely remember them."

         "I don't know anything about mine," she said, studying her feet, then realized what she was doing. "Harper Bailey," she said cheerfully, holding out her hand, revealing a dimpled grin.

         I  buckled the clasp around her delicate chin, resting my hands on the top of the helmet playfully. "My name is Callum Tate and I’m going to take care of you, Harper Bailey."

         Her extended hand dropped into her lap. Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. "Wh...what did you say?"

         Shit. Was that was too forward? "I'm sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “I'm Callum Tate. It's a pleasure to meet you, Harper Bailey." I grabbed her thin hand and a shot of warmth crept up my veins and shocked my heart into a frenzy.

         The smile that had so quickly faded before came back with a vengeance. She squeezed my hand in greeting and whispered, "It's very nice to meet you, Callum."

         I climbed on to the front part of the seat and started the engine. Harper settled her hands on the side of my ribs and I couldn't think of anything I wanted more than her arms wound tight against my chest. Suddenly, I couldn't get on the road fast enough.

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Feel like talking to her in private? We don't blame you, she is easily persuaded into doing illegal things. E-mail her at fisher@fisheramelie.com. Don't worry, she's put up a firewall that no government agency could penetrate.

Giveaway....

Fisher is running a contest for the length of her book tour! To win a signed copy of Callum & Harper just click here