I hopped off the bench and walked back toward the house, stopping where it was darkest—where the stars shone brightest. Wherever Manning went, I’d follow. If he wanted to live amongst the constellations, I’d move with him around an immovable universe, guided by starlight, and when we got separated, fate would light the path back to each other. Because you couldn’t move the stars—Manning and I were inevitable—and as I stood in awe of the infinite night sky, I thanked the heavens for that.
The Beginning
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Acknowledgments
Thank you to the best team a girl could ask for. For Move the Stars in particular, top billing is reserved for my editor, Elizabeth London, who guided me through some very murky waters (and somehow managed not to toss me overboard). Elizabeth, there’s no fate to acknowledge here—you pushed me until the last deliberate word (or The Beginning, thank you for that), and that’s why everything is as it should be.
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At some point, my eyes crossed, and I passed the baton to Katie of Underline This Editing and Becca of Evident Ink, who helped me mold and fine-tune the end of this trilogy into what Move the Stars is now. Then, the award for acute attention to detail goes to Tamara Mataya Editing for proofreading. Thank you, ladies, for showing me the light in so many places!
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Cover love goes directly to Letitia of R.B.A. Designs and Lauren of Perrywinkle Photography. Throughout the series, you’ve both brought my Lake and Manning to life in a way I can only hope to do with pen and paper. That can also be said of the talented audiobook narrators Andi Arndt and Zachary Webber, who held nothing back and embraced these characters so listeners could live this story start to finish.
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Special mention must be made of Serena McDonald: you’ve kept my head on straight (or, at a manageable angle) during the release of each book and in between. Thank you for manning the ship when I couldn’t, specifically the discussion groups along with Bethany Castañeda, with whom I share a 4-year friend-iversary the same month of the Move the Stars release!
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And to the ladies of the SITW, SES, and MTS spoiler rooms—you might not have seen it firsthand, but your excitement and devotion to these characters and their tumultuous love drove me on a daily basis—not to just finish, but to make the story better in every sense. As Manning ached to be good enough for his Lake, I strove to deliver a story worthy of you all! In that same vein, it has been nothing but great times in my reader group, The Penthouse, and I’ll say what I’ve said before—it’s my author happy place.
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Of course, the thank-you list is endless. To everyone who had a hand in this, including bloggers and their enthusiastic promotion and the authors who took time from their busy schedules to read and honor me with a blurb—cheers to you!
Titles By Jessica Hawkins
More info at www.jessicahawkins.net/books
Prefer audiobooks? Some of my books are available for listening. Learn more here.
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If you’re up for something similar to what you’ve just read, try my completed trilogy, The Cityscape Series (keep swiping to read chapter 1).
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THE CITYSCAPE SERIES
“…the writing is fantastic, the emotional detail, involved, and the connections are so well explored, that we get to LIVE this story (the good, the bad and the ugly). Thoroughly. Intensely. Honestly.”
Learn more about The Cityscape Series.
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SLIP OF THE TONGUE DUET
“Addictive. Painful. Captivating. Tumultuous. Juicy. Sexy. Slip of the Tongue is an authentic, raw, and emotionally gripping must read that I just loved. A highly recommended favorite of mine.”—Angie’s Dreamy Reads
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Sadie Hunt isn’t perfect—but her husband is. Until Sadie finds herself in the last place she ever expected to be: lonely in her marriage. When rugged and sexy Finn Cohen moves into the apartment across the hall, he and Sadie share an immediate spark. And while Sadie’s marriage runs colder by the day, she and Finn burn hotter.
Her husband doesn’t want her anymore. The man next door would give up everything to have her.
Learn more.
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THE FIRST TASTE
“The First Taste is a delicious read that will have you craving seconds. I promise!”—Kim Karr, NYT Bestselling Author
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Andrew Beckwith has already devoted his life to one girl—his daughter, Bell. As far as he’s concerned, she’s all he needs. Amelia Van Ecken is an independent, smart, and savvy businesswoman who doesn’t have time for sex, much less love. Andrew and Amelia are complete opposites, but on one thing they agree—relationships are overrated. But that doesn’t mean they can’t be rated X. Because when sharp-tongued Amelia and stubborn Andrew cross paths, sparks fly—and burn.
Learn more.
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EXPLICITLY YOURS SERIES
(Download the first book free!)
“Pretty Woman meets Indecent Proposal in Explicitly Yours, a provocative series that’ll leave your heart racing.”—Louise Bay, USA Today Bestselling Author
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Lola Winters doesn’t think she can escape her life as a waitress— until she receives a shocking proposition from a sexy stranger. Wealthy businessman Beau Olivier wants Lola for a night, and in order to get her, he’s willing to make her dreams come true.
But what if one night isn’t enough, and Beau isn’t ready to say goodbye in the morning?
Download book 1 free.
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SOMETHING IN THE WAY
An epic, three-book saga of forbidden love.
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It was a hot summer day when I met him on the construction site next to my parents’ house. Under the sweat and dirt, Manning Sutter was as handsome as the sun was bright. He was older, darker, experienced. I wore a smiley-face t-shirt and had never even been kissed. Yet we saw something in each other that would link us in ways that couldn’t be broken…no matter how hard we tried.
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I loved Manning before I knew the meaning of the word. I was too young, he said. I would wait. Through all the carefully-chosen words hiding what we knew to be true, through his struggle to keep me innocent, and through infinitely-starry nights—I would wait. But I’d learn that life isn’t always fair. That no matter how much you achieve, none of it matters if you suffer the heartbreak that comes with falling for someone you can never have. Because even though I saw Manning first, that didn’t matter. My older sister saw him next. Learn more.
About the Author
Jessica Hawkins is known for her “emotionally gripping” and “off-the-charts hot” romance. Dubbed “queen of angst” by both peers and readers for her smart and provocative work, she’s garnered a cult-like following of fans who love to be torn apart…and put back together.
She writes romance both at home in California and around the world, a coffee shop traveler who bounces from café to café with just a laptop, headphones, and coffee cup. She loves to keep in close touch with her readers, mostly via Facebook, Instagram, and her mailing list.
For more information:
www.jessicahawkins.net
Connect With Jessica
Want to dissect this series with others ? Join the MOVE THE STARS Spoiler Room. (Spoiler alert…there are spoilers.)
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Preview: Come Undone by Jessica Hawkins
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Olivia
Germaine has already found love. Devoted wife, loyal friend, determined career woman—she’s created the life she always envisioned. But when Olivia locks eyes with a handsome stranger across a crowded room, he peers a little too closely and sees emotions she thought she’d buried long ago.
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David Dylan, alleged playboy and eternal bachelor, challenges Olivia to confront the life she’s built and to make decisions that could either lead to happiness…or regret.
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Will Olivia be able to draw the line between lust and love? And can David respect that line?
1
EVER SO SLOWLY, I touched the tube to my parted lips and glided on the Ruby Red. I had always lacked the patience for lipstick and only used it for special occasions. Next came a translucent lip gloss that left threads of goop as I smoothed my lips together. I drew back slightly from the mirror to admire my work.
Perfectly coiffed hair, teased and styled into a long bob, floated just at my shoulders, every shiny brown lock suspiciously cooperating. In the trash laid the scattered teeth of yet another broken comb. I’d wrestled especially long with my tangles tonight, but looked particularly poised as a result; so much so, that if one thing were to tremble, everything else would come tumbling down. Or so it seemed. In that moment, I caught Bill’s gaze in the reflection, his normally mild eyes watching me intently. I quickly forgot that feeling of unease.
“You look good,” he said, admiring my emerald green dress.
“Your favorite color.”
“Because it matches your eyes.” I picked at a mascara smear on the mirror with my fingernail. “Do we have to go tonight?” he asked.
“What?” I’d successfully chipped off the mark, but now I was faced with the messy smudge of a fingerprint.
“Tonight. Let’s stay in.”
“Everyone’s going to be there.” I tossed makeup products back into the drawer and wiped the counter with my palm. “People pay good money for these tickets, babe.”
“Whose idea was this again?”
“Andrew’s firm got tickets for their clients. Not everyone could make it, so he invited us.”
“But,” he began. A quick glare silenced him. He held up his palms in defeat. I turned back to my reflection.
I checked my eyeliner one last time to make sure it was even. “I talked to my dad today. He’ll be in Chicago for a night next month and wants to have dinner.”
Bill groaned and slumped in the doorway.
“What? You don’t want to go to the ballet. You don’t want to have dinner with my father. It’s only one night.”
“And you’re so thrilled when my parents drive in.”
“Touché.” I flipped my hair over my shoulder and pushed a gold stud through my ear. “Well, you don’t have to come, but I know he’d like to see you.”
“Sure he would, where else does he get free legal advice?”
“Oh, please. He has plenty of corporate lawyer friends.”
“Not for work, Olivia. For his divorce from Gina. Lawyer friends don’t put up with that shit, they charge you for it.”
“Well, get used to it, ‘cause he’s not going anywhere. I’m sure if you ever need advice on how to win over girls half your age, he’d be happy to help.”
“Half my age?” he repeated as he came up behind me and encircled my waist. A piece of brown hair fell over his eye. He was overdue for a haircut. “Are you trying to get me locked up? I’d say I’ve got my hands full married to a twenty seven-year-old.”
“Bill,” I whined, swatting his hands away. “You’ll wrinkle my dress, and I’m finally ready.”
“Yes, darling,” he said with a sly smile, backing away. “I’ll pull the car around.” I followed him out but pivoted back, grabbed a hand towel, and wiped the smudge away.
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We arrived at the performance minutes before curtain. Teetering in my heels, I clung to Bill’s arm as we scoured the crowd for familiar faces. Sophistication perfumed the lobby, as if it had been bottled and sold to Chicago’s elite. Smartly dressed women carefully stepped down scarlet-carpeted steps, passing beneath elaborate chandeliers that cast shadowy corners.
“There they are,” Bill said. From behind, my two best friends, registering at just a few inches over 5 feet, could almost be sisters. Gretchen, in a revealing pink dress and boosted by spiky heels, gestured wildly to the group around her. Her long platinum hair bounced in signature curls with each exaggerated movement.
Next to her, Lucy dodged Gretchen’s flailing limbs, anticipating her every movement. She wore a boat-neck black dress, and her short brown hair was fashioned into a perfect chignon.
Her boyfriend, Andrew, stood off to the side, wringing a program. Upon spotting us, he grinned toothily and beckoned us over. “Sorry, Gretch,” he interrupted. “Everyone, this is Lucy’s other best friend, Liv Germaine, and her husband Bill Wilson.”
“What, now I’m the other best friend?” I joked, shaking hands with someone. “I only introduced them, you know.”
Lucy looked up at me with big brown eyes before hugging me. “Look, we’re the same height now,” she said, showing off uncharacteristically high shoes.
“I don’t know, shrimp,” Bill said. “Liv’s still got some inches on you.”
“Anyway,” Gretchen interjected impatiently, “the plane lands, and I rush to the station, just barely making the train. Since it’s now one in the morning and I’ve been traveling for fourteen hours, I immediately pass out. When I wake up, the—what are they called—stewardesses?—she says, ‘Welcome to Chile!’”
“Chile!” one of the women cried.
“I’d gotten on the wrong train, slept through the entire ride, and ended up in Santiago.”
Everyone laughed. I politely joined in, though I’d heard the story twice before.
“To make matters worse, it was fifty-something degrees outside, and I was wearing shorts and a tank top.”
The man next to me guffawed loudly. He was the only one who’d been introduced without a partner; Gretchen’s lure was cast.
“Oh, I think it’s time,” Lucy said when the lights pulsed.
The single man sidled up to Gretchen as we made our way to our seats. “What do you do that you can take off to Chile whenever you like?”
“Entertainment PR,” she said, batting her eyelashes.
“Hook, line, and sinker,” Bill whispered, reading my mind. Gretchen turned and shot us a dirty look when I giggled. “Uh oh, Windex is mad,” he said with a playful smile. Her face softened. She liked Bill’s nickname for her. When I’d introduced them, he’d said hers were the bluest eyes he’d ever seen.
Once we were seated, he leaned over so only I could hear. “Are you familiar with the tale of Odette and Prince Siegfried?” He passed me a program. “Swan Lake. Just another love story gone wrong.” He laughed at my expression. “I probably never mentioned my parents took me as a teenager. Another thing to give me culture.”
The lights dimmed, and Bill sat back, shifting to get comfortable. His long legs knocked against the seat in front of us multiple times before its occupant turned to raise her eyebrows. I suppressed a laugh just as the conductor lifted his arms.
Before long, the stage was awhirl with white tulle, hard muscles, prettily pink slippers. And those pink slippers, which curled and arched and lengthened unnaturally, seemed perfectly untouched. Everything about the ballet appeared smooth and blemish-free, from the dancers to the patrons. The graceful precision was one thing, but I was floored by the flawlessness of the performance. Everything in life should be so clean. When the curtain fell for intermission, I clapped gleefully with the crowd.
We spilled into the lobby, excitedly reviewing what we’d just seen as we maneuvered. Bill and Andrew left to get drinks as Gretchen, Lucy, and I broke away from the others, keeping close through a room brimming with people.
“I can’t believe my mother let me quit ballet when I was seven,” Lucy said once we’d found a semi-open spot. “
I could’ve been a star.”
“I don’t think it’s as easy as that,” I said.
She shook her head. “I could have been a professional ballerina.” Gretchen and I laughed at her sincere expression. “Fine, don’t believe me,” she said. “I’m going to the restroom.”
“Oh, me too,” Gretchen chimed. “Liv?”
“I’ll wait here for the guys.”
I craned my neck above the crowd to search for the bar, where I expected Bill would loom over everyone. My gaze lingered on different people, noting how their stiff, deliberate movements countered the elegance of the dancers on stage. To me, they not only seemed like strangers, but like aliens. Or maybe I was the one who didn’t belong.
Since the abrupt divorce of my parents when I was a teenager, I’d never figured out exactly where I was supposed to be. Large crowds heightened that insecurity and left me feeling vulnerable. It was an unfortunate ability of mine, feeling spectacularly alone in a crowd, even when surrounded by friends and family.
I had the sensation of being watched seconds before I met a man’s unfamiliar pair of eyes across the room. They were dark, narrowed intensely in my direction as if he were trying to place me. Everything slowed around me, but my heartbeat whipped into a rapid flutter.
Our gaze held a moment longer than it should have. My body buzzed. My pounding heart echoed in my ears. It wasn’t his immense, tall frame or darkly handsome face that struck me, but a draw so strong that it didn’t break, even when I blinked away.
A woman bumped my shoulder as she passed. I exhaled the breath I’d been holding. Bill waved as he wound through the crowd.
When I looked back, the man loomed closer than necessary. Something about the lean in his posture was intimate and easy, yet the space between us was physically hot. Fire under my skin. I reminded myself to breathe.
Hair blackest black, short and unruly but long enough to run my hands through. His suntanned complexion appeared natural from time spent outdoors. Strong carved-from-marble facial features were softened by long, unblinking lashes. Involuntarily, I drew a sharp breath at the magnitude of his beauty.
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