Blog Tour: Beautiful Addictions by Season Vining

Josie Banks is a girl without a past.

Beautiful Addictions, an all-new must read, second chance romance from bestselling author Season Vining is now available!

Josie Banks is a girl without a past. After being found unconscious with no memory, she was shuffled in and out of foster homes until the age of eighteen. An experience that left her broken, damaged, and clinging to drugs and meaningless hook-ups to numb her pain.

Tristan Fallbrook is haunted by a dark past of his own. Tristan lost his first love when Josie disappeared years ago. Now a twist of fate has brought them back together, and he never wants to let her out of his inked arms again. But reentering her life puts them both in grave danger.

The two find themselves unable to escape the gravity pulling them together. But now that they’re on the run from ruthless criminals, it’ll take much more than love to save them.

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Keep reading for a look inside Beautiful Addictions!

Clouds stretched across the moon, stealing her natural light. Josie settled herself on the fire escape, drawing by the glow from her apartment window. Dirt and dust on the glass cast a freckled pattern over her. Haunting eyes stared up from the page as she tried to recall a connection to them.

A hooded figure stormed into the alley below, catching her attention. The lead of her pencil stopped in its track, its path abandoned. His dark garments blended into the shadows as if she could smudge him out of one of her drawings.

“Idiot!” he shouted. His voice rolled up the alley walls until being freed into the sky like thunder.

He pushed the hood back, his nails scraping through dirty hair. It wove through his fingers, staying upturned in a crown of thorns. Heavy footsteps counted off his rhythm as Josie watched him rage.

“Stupid,” he said. He said it again, repeating the quiet chant over and over until it matched the beat of Josie’s pulse.

She gasped as he ripped off his hooded sweatshirt and threw it to the ground. Brilliant inked images covered his arms, interrupted only by the white beater that molded to his body. He slammed his forehead into the wall and then landed punch after punch. The blood from his knuckles painted the bricks and Josie knew a part of him would die here this night.

She sat stone-faced, her gaze fixed on the raging figure below. She was envious of such a physical kind of anger. She had never unleashed her fury that way and wondered if it would do any good. His chest heaved, and Josie fought hard to keep her own breath even.

In that moment, the moon broke through the clouds and cast a blanket of silvery light over the alley. He froze, mesmerized by the grid-pattern shadows created by the fire escape. His eyes traveled up the shadow as if navigating a labyrinth, until a small, solid shape obstructed the path. He looked up, catching Josie there.

The pencil slipped from Josie’s grip, falling over the edge. As connected as she felt to the lead and wood, she did not watch it drop. Instead, she stared down into the face of something so familiar—heartache. She’d never seen such a beautiful, broken expression, and it took her breath away. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered the soft tap, tap, tap of the pencil hitting the ground.

Josie felt bound to him in that moment. They were two souls snared by chance and circumstance. Though they did not feel like strangers.

She wanted more, but she didn’t know what. It tugged at her like the pull of the moon. She couldn’t name it, but she craved it like her drugs and her art.

A siren wailed from somewhere down the block and they both blinked, released from each other in a defeated kind of way. He turned away slowly. Josie leaned forward against the railing as he disappeared back into the dotted path of streetlamps.

When he was gone, she raced down the steps of her building and retrieved his abandoned hoodie from the alley. Josie wrapped herself in the black cotton and, for the first time in years, slept through the night. Almost every day since, she’d worn the oversize article, growing attached to it as if it were a long-lost friend.