Secrets Don’t Keep by Elora Ramirez

It’s release day for Elora Ramirez’s Secrets Don’t Keep! I am so excited about this fantastic young adult thriller, and I’m super excited to be sharing it with you. Elora is sharing an exclusive excerpt with us, and a giveaway, so be sure to check it all out!

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Secrets Don’t Keep Synopsis:

My name is Kera Collins, and I would do anything for a golden nod.

At first glance, my life appears perfect: the best friends, the best school, the attention of Dex Albright, the deliciously irresistible grandson to the Headmaster. All I need is the prestige behind La Boheme, an elite secret society formed within the walls of my school, and my life would be complete. Once I’m in, I’ll be the one with all of the secrets.

It’s just…no one told me these secrets could kill.

Amazon

 

Exclusive Excerpt:

I know most people don’t get excited about the beginning of another school year, but I’m not most people, and this isn’t your ordinary school. And somewhere deep inside, I think there’s a tiny glimmer of hope that maybe this will be the year I get a golden envelope.

It sounds hilarious and fake, but it’s legit, and the definition behind Grove’s legacy of A-list alumni.

La Boheme.

A secret society offering immediate acceptance into an Ivy League of your choice. Social proof that lasts for decades. First dibs on societies that are just tiny rumors on our nation’s radar.

Skull and Bones.

Euclians.

From there, the influence is unlimited. The society dates back to our school’s origin and holds roots in the birth of some of the most promising universities. Essentially, La Boheme is the breeding ground for the nation’s elite.

The envelopes come the first week of school. I would do anything for a golden nod. I rub my fingers together in a small circle and daydream about endless funds and absolute power.

We make our way down the cobblestone drive and I watch the lacrosse team, already on campus for practices, run drills on a nearby field. Given the way a few of them keep tripping over their sticks, I imagine this must be the first year team. To their right a few guys throw a football across the quad. Everywhere students are getting situated and carrying boxes into their tiny rooms, now makeshift homes until Christmas break.

A slow smile spreads across my face and I nervously tap my fingers against my bare legs. My phone vibrates and I glance down to read the text. It’s Season.

 

OMG where are you?! Youll never believe the rug I brought back from Bali. Its divine.

 

I shake my head and type in a quick response.

 

Its about time you texted. I just got here. Be there soon.

 

I shift in my seat with anticipation. This year, Season and I managed to get into Ivy Hall, the building reserved for a select number of seniors. It’s by and large the most striking of the dorms, with stone edifices and ivy that snakes it’s way up and over the walls. For the past three years, we dreamed about living here one day. It rests against the back of the campus and in front of a wooded area that’s a rumored host to many soirees reserved for the third and fourth years. But that’s just a cover. Those parties?

They’re La Boheme.

At least, that’s what I’ve heard.

Just getting into the dorm feels like a transcendent promise.

I gaze out the window and shuffle my feet in anticipation.

 

Elora Ramirez Bio:

unnamed (22)Elora Ramirez has been telling stories her whole life.

 

It started when she was four, when she taught herself how to read and write as a way to entertain herself while her grandmother kicked and danced in aerobics class. She cut her teeth on books from Dr. Seuss and writing anywhere she could find the space — including her Fischer Price kitchenette, the pages of picture books, and Highlights Magazines.

 

She’s matured a bit since then, now choosing to write in the margins of her books and on the mirrors of her apartment ideas and thoughts surrounding story and what makes us human. You can read more on her blog, eloranicole.com

Links:

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Enter Elora’s giveaway!!
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Secrets Don’t Keep Cover Reveal

 

Today we’re revealing the cover of Secrets Don’t Keep by Elora Ramirez! I absolutely love this cover and I’m thrilled to be sharing it with you!!
Title: Secrets Don’t Keep

Author: Elora Ramirez

Release Day: August 10th

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About Secrets Don’t Keep:

 

My name is Kera Collins, and I would do anything for a golden nod.

At first glance, my life appears perfect: the best friends, the best school, the attention of Dex Albright, the deliciously irresistible grandson to the Headmaster. All I need is the prestige behind La Boheme, an elite secret society formed within the walls of my school, and my life would be complete. Once I’m in, I’ll be the one with all of the secrets.

It’s just…no one told me these secrets could kill.

 

Pre-Order Now!

 

Exclusive Excerpt:

 

“Tell me again about cherry trees and spring time and eating sunbeams.” I whisper in his ear.

“Why should sunbeams get all the fun?” He growls and I laugh quietly.

Both of my hands are on either side of his face. I’m gripping the soft area above his neck. Our tongues meet and I press myself against him, the sparrow inside my chest turning into a phoenix, lit and ready. I wrap one leg around his hip and position myself against the shelf, pulling away just enough to look in his eyes. I want to see the clouded look that takes over when he’s lost in the feel of me. His hands grab me and I gasp.

This is much, much better than Neruda.

We’re a tangled piece of hormones, begging for some type of release.

And then —

We’re crashing against the floor, Dex covering my mouth with his hand. I start to claw at his arm because what the hell?

He doesn’t waste any time. Leaning forward to where his lips begin to tickle the edges of my ear, he whispers.

“Someone’s here.”

I press my hands against his chest, pushing him back so I can look him in the eyes.

“What do you mean someone’s here,” I hiss.

And then I hear it. Or…them, actually. Soft footsteps. My eyes widen and Dex places his finger on my lips. Despite the severity of the situation, I have a strange desire to bite it.

Or lick it. He sees my gaze shift downward and he hides a smile.

“Behave,” he mouths.

I shrug again, my shoulder scraping against the wooden floor. I stretch my neck and try to get a look at who could possibly be in the library at this hour.

“Kera?”

I jerk my head back toward Dex, and he looks at me in confusion. My heart thuds against my chest. I grab his wrist and pull his finger away from my lips.

“Season?”

Dex opens his mouth like he’s about to say something and I put my hand up to quiet him. In a heap of arms and legs, I try and make my way to a standing position but my best friend finds me bending over, Dex kneeling in front of me with his bow tie akimbo around his neck.

“Kera?”

I swallow and turn around, my face breaking into a smile. I’m thinking of excuses. I’m thinking of how I can explain the tête-à-tête she seems to have interrupted. I’m thinking…my eyes find hers and I gasp.

Holy shit.

She’s been crying. Her eyes, normally a bottomless shade of crystallized green, blink away new tears. I walk over to her, rearranging my dress with each step.

“Ohmigod. Season. What happened?” I reach for her but she twists away. Her arms and legs are covered in scratches and twigs keep falling out of her burgundy curls. She moves to hide her arms and looks away for a brief moment before catching Dex’s gaze and bouncing to me.

She’s skittish, and her eyes — they’ve lost all glimmer of Season.

A weight settles on my chest and I fight to stand still, to not turn and run. This is not life. This is not supposed to happen. Not here. Not Season. I brush away the silence between us, willing her to look at me. I reach for her again and she startles, putting her hand up in front as a defense. She blinks and focuses on me, her eyes feral.

“I knew you’d be here. I knew — I got your text an-and they said you would…”

“S, what’s going on? Why — what are you doing here? Did something happen?” I wrinkle my brow and turn to find Dex walking toward us, his bowtie now perfectly positioned against his neck. He’s working on his cufflinks and staring at Season with his mouth all twisted. I can’t tell if he’s bothered by the interruption or by Season’s condition.

She coughs and whimpers and I shoot her a look.

“Season…”

“It’s Sebastian.” She wipes at her cheeks with her hands, her fingers reaching for each other in a form of desperation.

Anger vibrates against me but deeper than that, there’s a fear. A cold-blooded fear I can’t explain. Something isn’t right and I don’t know how to fix it and my best friend is standing in front of me like she’s been turned inside out and back again. Black spots fill my vision and then grow clear.

“What happened. Where’s Sebastian?” I move closer and she grabs my arm. I stop and look at her. She’s shaking her head.

“You know —.” Her words stumble over each other and it’s enough for me to freeze in place. I turn to look at her and she closes her eyes and takes a breath.

“We were in the woods. They found us. Th-they took him.”

“Who took him?” Dex steps closer, his face now the picture of concern. “Wait. Did you say someone told you we would be here?”

The muscles in his cheek twitch. I reach for his hand.

There are moments in life where we can spot the change coming. Whether it’s intuition or cycles or whatever, these are the seconds and minutes that turn into catalysts. Once they pass, life is forever categorized as Before and After.

This is what I feel hovering above us, waiting to descend and take over. I close my eyes and wait and wonder if I can keep it from happening.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

If I can wish hard enough, maybe we can go back to where I’m leaning against the shelves, Dex pressing up against me. Maybe even before that — back to when I first saw him, standing with the lacrosse team the day I moved into Ivy Hall. I let go of Dex’s hand and clutch at the bottom of my dress and feel myself waver. Dex grabs my elbow.

I open my eyes and find Season looking at me, tears rushing down her cheeks.

“La Boheme.” she whispers. “They’re the ones who took Sebastian.”

 

About Elora Ramirez:

1555334_10153643110030004_531682707_nElora Ramirez lives in Austin, Texas with her chef-husband. At the age of four, she taught herself how to read and write, cutting her teeth on books like Dr. Seuss and writing anywhere she could find the space–including her Fisher Price kitchen set, the pages of picture books and Highlights Magazine. Since then, she’s grown to love the way words feel as they swell within her bones. Writing holy and broken is her calling, and pushing back the darkness and pursuing beauty through story is her purpose. She embraces the power of story and teaches women from all parts of the world how to embrace theirs. She has a knack of calling things out , the truth and the detail, the subversive threads that make a life a story. She loves hip-hop, wishes she lived by the beach and cannot write without copious amounts of coffee, chocolate, music, and her husband’s lavender liqueur.

 

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