Blog Tour : The Truth of A Liar

“Life doesn’t always go according to plan. In fact, it has a nasty habit of veering off the map. So when my job led me to New York City, something extraordinary happened…her script merged with mine.”

Hadley Theater, New York City, New York - Night

ENTER STAGE LEFT-Rowan Townsend, a twenty-nine year old Broadway starlet, strolls onto the dark, ominous stage. The bright spotlight finds her and she smiles broadly, her body buzzing in anticipation. 

Rowan

Serendipity is a funny thing, isn’t it? It jumps out from behind the bushes and offers an unbelievable

chance at happiness. It’s hopeful and intriguing, and maybe even a little terrifying. 

ENTER STAGE RIGHT-Lark Hawthorne, a striking twenty-nine year old FBI agent and self-proclaimed liar, marches to Rowan and grabs her arm, coaxing her off stage. 

Lark

Rowan, what are you doing? We need to leave. It’s not safe here.

Rowan and Lark look out into the audience and a menacing shadow in the back of the theater catches

their attention. Her eyes expand in panic and he grips her hand tighter, offering reassurance. 

Lark

It’s now or never. Are you ready?

EXIT STAGE RIGHT. Fade to black.

Title : The Truth of A Liar (Anyone But Him #2)
Release Date : 20 October 2015
Genre : Romance
Author : Cassie Graham 
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EXCERPT & TEASERS

I don’t care if it’s sinful. This feeling, right now, it makes all of the bad in my life seem like child’s play in comparison. Landon and Cameron…they’re distant memories.

It’s almost as if I’ve waited all of my life to feel this way with this man.

“I want you. So much, Rowan,” Lark whispers. He reverberates pain, yet his voice is heady. Strained, he hisses as I move my hands lower, settling on the hem of his pants.

I move my head to look at him. I place my hand on his cheek, and touch his bottom lip with my thumb. He’s so soft, yet so incredibly masculine. I want to climb inside of his mind and explore every inch of him. I want to discover all of his inner workings, his secrets. The ones he’ll openly admit to and the ones he hides under his bed.

He clenches his teeth, but his eyes are inquisitive, curious. We stare at each other for an incalculable
amount of time. The seconds seem to pass at a glacial pace and in this moment, I’m thankful. I know
when this ends, it’ll be done for good.

It’s almost as if I’m visiting a foreign place and it’s my last day and I know if I don’t sample the unique cuisine and take mental pictures of the scenery, I’ll never find the feeling deep inside of me again. It’ll be lost forever.

My stomach flops at the thought.

“Lark.” I breathe. Saying his name in this setting is enough to send me over the edge and into the
unknown.

His body vibrates as the word passes my lips, and he moves his face closer to mine. His lips are
millimeters from making contact and all I’d have to do is breathe and we’d be connected, but I refuse to move.

“Say it, again,” he demands, his breath washing over my face. “This might be the last time. Say it one
more time, please. For me.” He closes his eyes with a small smile playing on the edge of his lips. His
hand makes its way up to my face again and he clings to me as if I’m his anchor, tethering him to this
world.

I muster all of the courage I have and mutter his name, letting it float out of my mouth, my lips brushing his in the slightest.

Lark hisses, and this time, I know it’s in longing.

About The Author

Cassie Graham is a fiery redhead with an intense love for fairytales-- angsty, suspenseful fairytales-- but fairytales nonetheless. She's had all kinds of jobs-- but the one she loves the most is being a writer. She finds solace in it. She's also a mom to a beautiful little girl. Her greatest joy is watching her grow. 

Cassie has always loved to write and is so thankful that she's able to do it full-time. She's very lucky to have a husband who works his booty off working so she can live out her dream. He's the reason why writing romance is so easy.

Cassie is a born and raised Arizona girl. Though she has moved around a bit, her home always calls to her. It's where her heart will remain. 

If Cassie isn't writing, she's more than likely cooking in the kitchen with her daughter or has her nose

buried deep in a good book. She loves front porch sitting, drinking coffee, and constantly dating her

husband.

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Cover Reveal : Things Liar Fake

What if… 

Someone you barely knew asked you for a favor. 

What if…

They needed you to be something you weren’t, in exchange for nothing. Unless you 

count a mouth full of lies and a half-broken heart. Faker. Pretender. Liar. There are worse things to be called. 

So would you do it? Would you? 

Daphne Winthrop did. 

And you’re about to find out what happens in the end.

Title : Things Liars Fake (#Three Little Lies #3)

Release Date : 1 February 2016

Author : Sara Ney

EXCERPT & TEASERS

I pay, trying to scurry undetected to the condiments, juggling my cardboard snack 

tray awkwardly as I pluck a few napkins from the metallic holder. One, two… five 

napkins. 

That should be enough, right?

For good measure, I pluck out two more from the holder because sometime my 

butter hands get out of control. I hate having buttery fingerprints.

Still clutching my ticket stub, I attempt to lift it to see which theater my movie is 

playing in, but fail miserably and have to set everyth—

“Daphne?” 

I freeze.

Look up. 

Pivot.

Standing behind me in his navy blue pea coat, Dexter Ryan smiles crookedly down at 

me. 

He smoothes his hands down the front of his dark pressed jeans—or is he wiping 

sweat off his palms?—and pushes his tortoiseshell eyeglasses up the bridge of his 

nose. 

I take it all in—every inch of him—from the preppy jacket, the glasses, the slight 

cleft in his chin, up to the black cable knit winter hat when he suddenly removes it. 

Instead of his hair being flatted by the hat, it’s unruly and a bit tousled. A rich brown, 

his locks are wavy, shaggy and desperately need a trim. 

He finger combs it out of his face. 

“It is Daphne, right?” He asks, unsure of himself. 

It’s hard to hold back my groan of dismay at being spotted, but I muster up a 

cheerful, “Yeah. Hi. Dexter?”

He smiles then, his eyes shining behind his dark, tortoiseshell lenses. I mean—I 

think his eyes are shining. Maybe it’s just the reflection of his glasses?

Those dark eyes dart down to my snacks, the ticket stub grasped between two 

fingers on my right hand. His brows go up. “Do you need help with anything? Sorry, 

I’m an idiot; it’s obvious you’re waiting for someone.”

A nervous giggle escapes my lips, only I can’t smack a hand over my mouth to stop it. 

“Gosh thank you. I don’t need help,” I hurriedly say. “I just have to see which theater 

I’m in, but I’m having a hard time with…”

All my food.

“It’s just you?” His head cranes around, confused. “I’m sorry, that was rude. Of 

course it’s not just you. Why would it be?” His deep voice gives a forced, nervous 

chuckle.

Wow, this is about to get awkward. “Nope, it is just me,” I barely manage to get the 

words out. “I’m here alone.”

Dexter’s eyes go wide, sending his brows straight into his hairline. His mouth even 

falls open a little but no sound comes out.

“Great,” I joke, more for my benefit than his. “I’ve rendered you speechless.”

I follow the line of his jacket, down to the hand tightly gripping his winter hat.

“No! Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean… I don’t know what I mean.” Deep breath. “I’m here 

alone, too.” 

Suddenly, his mouth twitches into a goofy grin, and my green eyes fly make a beeline 

to his lips as they form the words, “Which movie are you here to see?”

Those lips.

Huh?

Instead of formulating a response, I find myself trying not to stare at a perfectly 

sculpted upper lip and a full mouth surrounded by a days’ worth of five o’clock 

shadow. Strong jawline. Straight, white teeth. And is that line in his cheek a dimple? 

Dexter clears his throat, and I watch transfixed as the chords in his neck flex when 

he reprises, “Which movie are you here to see?”

Huh?

“Huh?”

Jesus, I have some serious issues. And if Dexter think I’ve gone space cadet on him, 

he doesn’t let on; his brown eyes are kind. Friendly. Sincere without a trace of 

egotism. “What movie?” 

Oh god. Could this be any more humiliating? The guys asked me the same question 

three times. 

“Uh… StarGate?” 

Don’t judge me! Don’t judge me, Dexter! I want to shout. I want to hide behind my 

massive bucket of popcorn. Yes, it’s true! I am at a nine o’clock screening of StarGate, 

the twenty-year-old movie turned nerd cult classic of all time. 

By myself. 

As in: alone.

On a Saturday night.

A pleased grin quirks, his thick brows shoot up for a second time in surprise before 

he clears his throat. “Me too.” 

Dexter briefly glances down at his ticket stub, pushing his glasses back up the bridge 

of his nose with a forefinger. God, it’s such a sweet gesture I actually cock my head 

and stare. 

Truth be told, I could probably stare at him all night.

It’s been all of three minutes and I find him charming, adorable, and unassumingly 

handsome. The kind of handsome that sneaks up on you.

He clears his throat again. “It’s, uh, in theater twelve. Let me just…” He reaches 

around me then to grab a few napkins for himself, though he’s only carrying a 

medium soda. 

No popcorn. No candy. No snacks.

Wait. No snacks? 

Who doesn’t get snacks at the movies? Who?

Self-conscious of my gluttony, I back away, wielding my embarrassing armload of 

junk food, face flaming hot. “I guess I should go find myself a seat. Yeah. I should go 

do that. The previews have probably already started and those are my favorite 

part…”

Stop talking Daphne!

Dexter nods and grapples for a few more napkins.

Oh brother; between the two of us, we have enough napkins to last us through Armageddon.

About The Author 

Retail marketing and advertiser by trade, I am a university club advisor with a

passion for creating awkward fictional characters that readers can relate to. That 

are real. I enjoy writing fast-paced, humorous manuscripts with empowered female 

characters. 

I love: reading, travelling, meeting new people.... latte's, rainy days, and sweater 

weather.

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