Thursday, August 03, 2017

Kissing Max Holden tour!

Kissing Max Holden
Katy Upperman
Published by: Swoon Reads
Publication date: August 1st 2017
Genres: Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult
Kissing Max Holden was a terrible idea…
After his father has a life-altering stroke, Max Holden isn’t himself. As his long-time friend, Jillian Eldridge only wants to help him, but she doesn’t know how. When Max climbs through her window one night, Jill knows that she shouldn’t let him kiss her. But she can’t resist, and when they’re caught in the act by her dad, Jill swears it’ll never happen again. Because kissing Max Holden is a terrible idea.
With a new baby sibling on the way, her parents fighting all the time, and her dream of culinary school up in the air, Jill starts spending more and more time with Max. And even though her father disapproves and Max still has a girlfriend, not kissing Max is easier said than done. Will Jill follow her heart and allow their friendship to blossom into something more, or will she listen to her head and stop kissing Max Holden once and for all?

Author Bio:
Katy Upperman is a graduate of Washington State University, a former elementary school teacher, and an insatiable reader. When not writing for young adults, Katy can be found whipping up batches of chocolate chip cookies, or exploring the country with her husband and daughter. Kissing Max Holden is her debut novel.


Then Max crosses the threshold, moving toward me. After yesterday’s display by the river, I should harbor nothing more than ill will, but to be honest, I want to fall into his arms. He squats next to me, and his proximity sends my heart spinning.

Why can’t I ever stay angry with him?

“Congratulations,” he says.

“Pretty crazy, huh?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you hold a baby.”

Breathe, I remind my failing lungs. “I don’t think I ever have, until yesterday.”

“I heard you coached Meredith through it.”

I shrug, peeking at my dad; he’s consumed by his role of doting husband, paying no attention to Max and me. “That wasn’t what was supposed to happen, but I guess it worked out.”

He goes quiet, and I wonder if he’s thinking about how contemptuous he acted at the river yesterday, like I am.

Fix it, I told him while we sat in his driveway. I want to believe him when he says he’s trying, but how many times am I supposed to accept his regressions? He can be adorably charming, but there’s a bold line dividing supportive friend from dangerous enabler. Becky crossed it and never looked back, and I’m toeing it. I know I am.

He glances at our parents, fawning over Ally, who’s drifted back to sleep. “Hey, do you want to get out of here for a while? Go for a walk or something?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Come on, Jill. I wanna talk to you about yesterday.”

I look at him, hard, my frustration poking its head around the corner. Why does he presume I’m a sure bet?

I shift my attention to the pale, pencil-point scar on his forehead. I’m not sure why, but I’ve always liked it. Maybe because it gives his otherwise perfect face a flawed sense of character. Or maybe it’s the story behind the scar: the two of us exploring the woods behind his house years ago, me stumbling into a wasps’ nest, the buzzing, militant insects and the pain of their stings immediately disorienting. Max rushed into the mayhem to pull me to safety, another near-death experience thwarted by his bravery. He ended up getting stung almost as many times as I did, mostly on his bare arms, but once above his eyebrow, too.

“I don’t feel like talking,” I tell him.

He frowns. His gaze skims my hair, loose around my shoulders, and I suffer the memory of his fingers running through it, pushing it back to reveal my neck. I shiver.

He notices, then looks meaningfully in Dad’s direction. “Let’s go out in the hall, then.”

“I said I don’t feel like it.”

“Jesus, Jillian. Are you never gonna to talk to me again?” Even whispering, he sounds wounded. It surprises me, this knowledge that I’m capable of inflicting hurt on him. I could start torturing him, just as he tortures me, though I would never. Power over his happiness is a taxing thing—so much so, it’s tempting to agree to that walk after all. 

But I have some pride.


  1. Aw come on, is there any situation that a kiss can't kiss and make better? Well, maybe.