Blogaversary Celebrations - Exclusive deleted scene from Eversea: Jack's Lost Bar Scene

Eversea by Natasha Boyd

Synopsis

An orphaned, small-town, southern girl, held hostage by responsibility and self-doubt.

A Hollywood A-list mega-star, on the run from his latest scandal and with everything to lose.

A chance encounter that leads to an unlikely arrangement and epic love affair that will change them both forever.

When his co-star and real-life girlfriend is caught cheating on him with her married and much older director, A-list hottie, Jack Eversea, finds himself in sleepy Butler Cove, South Carolina. Jack hopes the sultry southern heat in this tiny coastal Lowcountry town will hide him not only from the tabloids and his cheating girlfriend, but his increasingly vapid life and the people who run it. He doesn’t count on meeting Keri Ann Butler.

Keri Ann has relied on herself so long, dealing with her family’s death and the responsibilities of keeping up her family's historic mansion, that boys and certainly the meager offering of eligible boys in Butler Cove, have never figured into her equation. But fate has other plans. Suddenly face to face with the man who played the movie role of her favorite fictional character, Jack has Keri Ann yearning for everything she has previously avoided ... and Jack must decide whether this funny, sassy girl is worth changing his life for, before his mistakes catch up to him.


You can check out my 4.5 star review for Everesea here.

Try it for yourself: Goodreads | Amazon | Amazon UK

 

Exclusive Deleted Scene from Eversea

Here is the deleted scene from Eversea.    It occurs right after Jack gets his turtle tattoo, and before the party where learns the truth about Audrey.   I really was hurting for Jack during this entire end part of the book. I really appreciate Bookish Treasures featuring this deleted scene for you all today J

Sitting some time later in the Velvet Margarita, in a dark corner with Nick and Devon, I wonder if I should just let it out of my crushing chest.

“So.” Devon starts above the loud music. “You’re getting more tattoos, you’re piss drunk, you’re avoiding your girlfriend whose pregnant with your baby, should I start expecting some door slamming and eye-rolling too?”

“Leave it, Devon,” I grunt at him. I know I have acted childish and moody these last few months.

He turns his blonde, shaggy surfer head and looks at Nick. “See, exactly like a teenager. Classic. Aren’t we too old for this? Just spill it, man,” he says, looking back at me. “What the hell happened to you in Butler Cove? I thought I was helping you by letting you stay at the house, not making it worse.”

“I’d like to know too,” adds Nick, taking a long pull from his bottle of beer. He looks a little like Joel Madden with that fedora on.

I look down at my rattling ice. I may need another Bushmills for this, but the bar is getting crowded, we won’t be anonymous for long. “Nothing,” I manage. God, but I feel like my head might explode, and my chest is tight. I blow out a breath, raking my fingers through my hair and grabbing a bunch of it tightly, like I can snap myself out of this funk. “Fuck.”

Nick is still looking at me speculatively. “A madness most discreet,” he murmurs, then leans back in his chair like he just laid down a royal flush.

Yes. He has it right. It’s almost a relief to hear it. But the madness inside me is all the more potent for its discretion. And for it’s pointlessness. It will never be allowed out. 

“What does that mean?” Devon inquires, as the weight of my acceptance causes me to lean forward onto my elbows and hang my head down.

Nick answers him. “It’s Shakespeare. It means—”

“I know what the hell it is.” Devon snorts. “I just don’t get—oh. Ooh.”  He does a quick scan over both shoulders, then leans toward me, pulling his chair closer. “What the hell happened?” he asks, in a low voice. When I give him nothing, he looks at Nick for an answer, but Nick is looking at me.

I try to give them something.

“Do you know who André Gide is?”  Maybe a quote to explain it. I’d been feeling unsettled before Butler Cove, Audrey’s antics just gave me a good reason to get away. I can start there.

“Here we go,” mutters Nick.

“No,” says Devon at the same time. “Wait, some old French writer Monica likes. And here we go where?”

I scowl at Nick.

He shrugs and smirks. ”He gets all deep and shit. When he starts quoting Gide, it’s a serious fucking pity party.”

I slam my glass down on the table, not hard enough to break it, but hard enough to express my irritation. “You were the punk who brought up Shakespeare, Nick.”

“Can you all stop talking in riddles and literature and get to the point?”

I shrug and close my eyes for a moment. “It’s just ... I thought I’d be ok. But I ... I just keep seeing her face.”

“Whose?” Devon interjects.

Nick rolls his eyes with a grimace. “Keep. Up. Man.”

“The girl in Butler Cove?” Devon guesses. “But you were hardly there.” I can see him trying to understand how ten days could change my entire life.

I still don’t know either.

All I know is that it feels good to finally acknowledge what I have had bottled up inside me, while smiling endlessly through vapid hours and days.

I think about how many times my thumb has scrolled across her number in my phone, itching to press down. I have even called her friend, Vern, once. He helped me get rid of video evidence of my violent outburst in Savannah. Vern didn’t say much except she was doing fine. If only I could feel ‘fine’. What did ‘fine’ mean, anyway? 

I start talking then. “I keep wondering why I did it. She didn’t deserve it. God, it was just that I was different with her. I mean, I felt like me for the first time in forever. I should have known that was too good to last. And Christ.” I wince. “She’s just ... Why I would take someone so perfect and sweet and pure and just fuck it up? Fuck her up?” I grab fistfuls of my hair with both hands as I leaned down on my elbows again. I feel my face bunching up as I acknowledge the crushing guilt in my chest.

Devon reaches a hand out to my shoulder. “I don’t mean to not understand here, but you sleep with fans all the time, or at least, you used to—”

“Shut Up, Okay?” I snap, shrugging his hand off. Then I notice Devon’s widened eyes. “I’m sorry, Dev. I just feel trapped. I am trapped.” I laugh hollowly. “And she’s not a fan. Trust me.”  I slowly shake my head. “At least, even if she was, she’s not anymore.”

Devon and Nick are finally silent. Each of them probably thinking to varying degrees that they have never seen me like this. They haven’t. And I am so tired of pretending to be someone I’m not.

I hope you enjoyed! I know it was short, but hopefully you understand a little more about what is going on in Jack’s heart. 

Thank you for all of your love and support for Keri Ann and Jack!

 ~ Hugs, Natasha Boyd

About the Author

Natasha Boyd is a writer with a background in marketing and public relations. She lives in the coastal Carolina Lowcountry, complete with Spanish moss, alligators and mosquitoes the size of tiny birds.  She has a husband, two sons and a cat named Tuna.  Eversea is her first full-length novel.

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