Remember When Synopsis
Ever wonder how
often Brad Pitt’s high school girlfriend must ponder jumping off a bridge? Ever
think about the girl that had her hooks in George Clooney before he took off
for TV stardom? How about Leonardo DiCaprio’s ex, or Johnny Depp’s first
groupie, or any number of young women who got left behind when their boyfriends
set off for greener pastures and eventually achieved unfathomable Hollywood
fame?
My name is Layla Warren and I don’t need to wonder about any of those things. I already know. Because years before Trip Wiley could be seen on movie screens all over the world, he could be seen sitting in the desk behind me in my high school English class.
This was back in 1990, and I cite the year only to avoid dumbfounding you when references to big hair or stretch pants are mentioned. Although, come to think of it, I am from New Jersey, which may serve as explanation enough. We were teenagers then, way back in a time before anyone could even dream he’d turn into the Hollywood commodity that he is today.
In case you live under a rock and don't know who Trip Wiley is, just know that these days, he’s the actor found at the top of every casting director’s wish list. He’s incredibly talented and insanely gorgeous, the combination of which has made him very rich, very famous and very desirable.
And not just to casting directors, either.
I can’t confirm any of the gossip from his early years out in Tinseltown, but based on what I knew of his life before he was famous, I can tell you that the idea of Girls-Throwing-Themselves-At-Trip is not a new concept.
I should know. I was one of them.
And my life hasn’t been the same since.
My name is Layla Warren and I don’t need to wonder about any of those things. I already know. Because years before Trip Wiley could be seen on movie screens all over the world, he could be seen sitting in the desk behind me in my high school English class.
This was back in 1990, and I cite the year only to avoid dumbfounding you when references to big hair or stretch pants are mentioned. Although, come to think of it, I am from New Jersey, which may serve as explanation enough. We were teenagers then, way back in a time before anyone could even dream he’d turn into the Hollywood commodity that he is today.
In case you live under a rock and don't know who Trip Wiley is, just know that these days, he’s the actor found at the top of every casting director’s wish list. He’s incredibly talented and insanely gorgeous, the combination of which has made him very rich, very famous and very desirable.
And not just to casting directors, either.
I can’t confirm any of the gossip from his early years out in Tinseltown, but based on what I knew of his life before he was famous, I can tell you that the idea of Girls-Throwing-Themselves-At-Trip is not a new concept.
I should know. I was one of them.
And my life hasn’t been the same since.
♥ADD TO GOODREADS♥
*Excerpt*
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*Excerpt*
He
smiled as I got out of the truck, and because I knew he was watching me, I made
extra sure not to slip and wind up face-down on the sidewalk.
I was feeling a little elated from the time I’d just spent alone with
him, while simultaneously feeling let down at the thought of it coming to an
end. I knew I was stalling, hoping to drag a few more seconds out of our time
together, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Hey, thanks for the ride.”
He leaned over toward the passenger side to talk to me out the open
window. “No problem.”
I tapped my toe against the tire as I asked, “See you tomorrow?”
He winked and repeated, “See you tomorrow.”
Short of throwing myself across the hood of his truck, there was really
nothing else to do at that point but say goodbye. I had just turned and was
starting to walk inside when I heard him yell, “Hey Layla!” which made my
stomach do a little flip.
I looked back at Trip, still leaning out the passenger window with a
wide grin playing at his lips and answered, “Yes?”
His grin turned into the full-force smile, the one that stopped me dead
in my tracks at lunch.
“Good luck.”
At that, he threw the truck in gear and took off.
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Remember When 2 Synopsis
You know how sometimes, your high school crush grows up to be an insanely famous movie star? Okay, probably not. But I do. ~Layla Warren
Back in high school, Trip Wiley’s fanbase only encompassed the denizens of the nothing little suburb of Norman, New Jersey.
Ten years later, all that is about to change.
In the summer of 2000, Layla Warren is enjoying her career as a journalist in New York City (well, sort of), while Trip spends most of his time grabbing Hollywood by the balls. In the days before what will turn out to be his skyrocketing fame, they’ll find themselves confronted with some life-altering choices.
Remember When 2 is the second story in an NA romance trilogy. It will bring you back to that exuberant and riotous time of life in your twenties when you struggled to figure out your place in the world and the person you were meant to be…
…and the person you were meant to be with.
*Excerpt*
I slide a hand up his neck and start playing with the hair behind his ear. I’ve always loved that spot, and I know it’s the easiest way to turn him into putty, this beautiful man sitting on my couch. He leans his head into my hand as my palm flattens against the soft skin of his nape. He is looking at me intensely, those deadly blue eyes boring right through me, seeing into my soul like no one but him ever has. He quirks his lip and raises an eyebrow, and I feel my stomach drop. Trip was my high school sweetheart, and I am struck with how insane it is that he can still manage to stir such a reaction in me after all these years.
“What?” I ask. “What’s that look?”
His voice is sultry, his tone is teasing. “Layla, if you don’t know by now, you never will.”
“Know what?” I ask, the picture of complete innocence.
Trip knows that I’m full of it, but plays along anyway. “That look,” he starts in, sliding to lie down on the couch, “is me thinking about every dirty little thing I’m going to do to you. And you know it.”
He’s right. I do.
“Hmmm. What might some of those things be?” I ask anyway, just to lead him on.
He is now laid out on the couch, with me half on top of him; my head resting on his abdomen, my hand splayed out across his chest. Trip reaches down and gets a grip on my elbows, guiding me to skootch up closer to his face.
Dear God. That face. It is unearthly beautiful, from his full, sensuous lips to the sandy gold hair tousled across his mischievous cobalt eyes. It should be illegal to look this good in public. He should be confined to a museum and never let out in real life. His looks are distracting. They could cause an accident one day.
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Author Bio
T. Torrest is a New Adult fiction writer from the U.S. She has written
many books, but prays that only a handful of them will ever see the light of
day. Her stories are geared toward readers
of any age that know how to enjoy a good laugh and a dreamy romance.
She likes pina coladas and getting caught in
the rain. She's not much into health food, but she does enjoy talking about
herself in the third person.
A lifelong Jersey girl, she currently resides
there with her husband and two boys.
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