Perfect Opposite by Zoya Tessi
Publication date: May 18th 2014 (paperback)
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
Publication date: May 18th 2014 (paperback)
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
Cover Artist: Deranged Doctor Design (http://www.derangeddoctordesign.com/ )
*Synopsis*
Their wishes were simple and modest. Fate had other things in store though, and she can be a real bitch sometimes.
- All he wanted was to get the job done and somehow to endure those long months playing nanny to a spoiled little rich girl. Without strangling her with his bare hands in the process. Well, it is going to be much easier said than done.
- All she wanted was to escape the past and live like any other nineteen-year-old girl. Her plan definitely didn’t include the arrogant, tattooed savage, with his awful mohawk hair and lack of social graces, whose only mission was to stick real close and mess up her life.
But, people aren’t always what they seem to be, are they?
- All he wanted was to get the job done and somehow to endure those long months playing nanny to a spoiled little rich girl. Without strangling her with his bare hands in the process. Well, it is going to be much easier said than done.
- All she wanted was to escape the past and live like any other nineteen-year-old girl. Her plan definitely didn’t include the arrogant, tattooed savage, with his awful mohawk hair and lack of social graces, whose only mission was to stick real close and mess up her life.
But, people aren’t always what they seem to be, are they?
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21917934-perfect-opposite
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*Trailer*
Perfect Opposite Book Trailer
*Excerpts*
“Who are you? What do you want?” I took a quick step back, glad the gift of speech had finally come back to me.
I
bowed my head and eyed my father angrily as he pulled a cell from his pocket
and hit a speed dial number. He spoke in Russian, the language I never used but
understood well, and I listened as he started to give orders.
Darkness
was falling outside and my eyes felt fuzzy after long hours spent gazing at the
screen. I didn’t know how much time had passed while I was writing, but the
paper was almost finished when the silence was broken by a shrill and piercing
scream from the direction of the kitchen.
*Giveaway*
*Excerpts*
He cocked his head to one side and threw me a condescending look, the kind a mother would give a small kid who was trying to be smart.
“You have something on your head.” he said after a pause, flatly ignoring my question
Completely distracted, I raised my hand and touched the shampoo bubbles in my hair, which instantly brought me crashing down to earth. The realization came that I was naked save for a small towel, standing and staring at a tattooed stranger twice my height and four times my weight.
“Shit!” I squeaked, quickly closed the door and locked it twice. “The Parole office is in the building across the street!” I called through the now secure doors.
Cursing my dumb self, I pinched my forehead and shook my head. Of all the doors he could have knocked on, this ex-con chose mine. Instead of getting himself tattooed all day long in prison, he should have taken the time to learn how to read, so he could at least hit the right address. Of course, something like this could only happen to me. Where was my mind, opening the door without checking who was behind it?
“I
need someone to come here and stay with Sasha.” he said, his brows furrowed in
the manner he adopted when turning over a serious issue.
“No,
not him.” he looked at me for a second and seemed to weigh the situation before
answering. “I want you to come.”
The
person at the end of the line exploded then and an outburst followed that was
peppered with a host of such creative curses that for a moment I sat there
dumbstruck. Never in my life had I heard anyone stand up to Nikolai, much less
dare to hurl abuse at him that way.
“Shut
your dirty mouth, Aleksey! I don’t care if supplies are late. You’d better get
here in the morning, is that clear?” my father yelled into the phone and then
hung up, not waiting for an answer.
“Who
was that?” I asked, my eyebrows firmly raised. “Your new bodyguard.”
I
leaped out of bed and headed for where the sound had come from, almost
colliding with Bethany in the process. She was standing near the entrance to
the kitchen, a hand over her mouth and a terrified look on her face. Following
her gaze to the source of her anxiety, I almost screamed myself... but whether
out of fear or something else I couldn’t say.
Alex
was standing by the open fridge, leaning on the door with one hand while
holding a carton of milk in the other. And he was wearing just his sweat pants.
I
found myself staring in astonishment at the web of interwoven black tattoos
covering the entire surface of his chest, continuing around his back and down
his arms as far as the knuckles on his fingers. They were scary and magnificent
at the same time.
Only
when the initial shock had passed did I notice that the black pattern was
broken in some places by pale marks. Scars. And there were more than a few. It
didn’t take long for me to realize that two round ones, on his stomach and
right shoulder, had to have come from bullet wounds.
“What’s
wrong with her?” Alex drawled, pointing the top of the carton at Beth and
bringing me back to reality.
“I
don’t think she expected to see a tattooed monster jumping out of our fridge.”
With
the air of an explorer, I approached the sink and began to assess the task
ahead, rummaging around to drain the dirty water and decide what would get
cleaned first. Watching me from behind, Beth giggled, pleased to have played a
winning card.
“You
know, when I think about it, that sharp tongue of yours has its plus side.” she
said, and made a point of examining her perfectly lacquered nails, “I’ll save a
fortune on manicures.”
“Is
that so?” I grinned mischievously.
Glancing
around the sink, I soon found what I was looking for, and my grin widened.
Grabbing the detergent bottle with both hands, I quickly turned and squeezed,
letting out a shriek as the soapy liquid shot out in Beth’s direction. Or,
better said, where I thought she was.
“Oops!”
was the only thing I was able to say before I doubled over, laughing
hysterically.
Instead
of Beth, Alex was standing in front of me, bright green liquid streaking the
white t-shirt he’d apparently changed into, and a few drops of the same hanging
from his chin. I was sure I’d never seen a more peculiar sight in my life, but
what really threw me was how utterly astonished he looked. He was probably
determining the most painful way to strangle me, but I laughed my ass off all
the same.
Interviewer: Hello, Sasha. It’s nice to have you here today.
Sasha: I’m glad to be
here. Thanks for having me!
Interviewer: I'm sure
our readers can't wait to get to know you better, so can we start with you
telling us something about you that no one else knows?
Sasha: Oh, you’re starting with the tough ones, I see that.
( smiling ) I'll have to think about that.
Interviewer: Please,
take your time. It can be anything, maybe something from your childhood?
Sasha: Well, there are some things from that time that I
haven’t told anybody. Like the big clock in the hallway I broke once.
Interviewer: You didn't!
Sasha: I'm afraid I did. I was around five, running through
the house and playing around, when I saw that it was dinner time. I really
didn't want to stop playing, so I climbed up on a chair, opened the clock face,
pulled off the hands and stashed them in the nearest drawer. I felt sure at the
time that I’d be saved from having to eat green beans for dinner.
Interviewer: You sure were resourceful. And you knew how to
tell the time when you were just five?
Sasha: Of course. Vova thought me.
Interviewer: Your father's employee Vova?
Sasha: I've never seen Vova as just employee. He’s more like
favorite uncle of mine, even though we aren’t really family.
Interviewer: You’re
close?
Sasha: We were very close when I lived at my father's place.
He was my hero and he always saved me from trouble. When I got up to any
mischief, I’d always run to his room and hide there. Like when I took sand from
behind the shed and spread it all over the hallway floor.
Interviewer: Why on
earth did you do that?
Sasha: I’d watched some cartoon about Indians, and wanted to
see if I could read tracks. I was sure I was going to be a hunter when I grew
up, and I wanted to practice my tracking skills. I was around seven then.
Interviewer: If I
understood well, you didn't have close connection to your father even then.
What about your mom?
Sasha: She was very young when she married my father and I
always had impression that she was more like a sister to me than mother. But,
when I think of her now, I think she wasn't mature enough to be a mother.
Interviewer: Why do
you think that she wasn't mature enough? She wasn't responsible, or...?
Sasha: She was… extreme. In every way. Sometimes, she
reminded me of a beautiful wild animal that got trapped and was forced to live
in gilded cage. Unlike me, since I’ve always lived like that, my mom had been
raised without any restraints and it was really hard for her to get used to having
bodyguards following her everywhere.
Interviewer: I suppose it was very hard for you too, living
like that, being treated in a different way to your friends. What was the
hardest part?
Sasha: Holidays, definitely. I always dreamed of going to
the seaside or visiting other countries with my friends, but I was never
allowed. Don't get me wrong, I know it was all for my own good, but even though
I wasn't exactly unhappy, I wasn’t filled with joy either.
Interviewer: And what is your idea of perfect happiness?
Sasha: Being able to decide, in the moment, to go somewhere
for a weekend and just packing up your things. Doing that without looking over
your shoulder to see if someone’s following you, or having the idea that
someone might try to kidnap you round the next corner.
Interviewer: Do you think you’ll ever be able to feel that
way? Completely free…
Sasha: Probably not. Habits are really hard to
overcome. ( smiling ) But I am really
happy now.
Interviewer: And what’s the reason for that bliss? Or should
I ask ‘Who?’ … ( laugh )
Sasha: I think you know the answer very well. He came into
my life like a storm. An unstoppable hail storm. It was enough for him to look
me once with that icy gaze of his, so that I felt he’d poured all of his
coldness right over my head and made a total mess of my life. But it seems like
even the thickest of icebergs can melt, given time.
Interviewer: From what I know, he’s a difficult man to be
around.
Sasha: I would say extremely challenging. I have an urge to
kill him in cold blood at least once per day.
Interviewer: Have you tried? ( arching eyebrows )
Sasha: Many times, but he’s so damned agile. He dodges my every
strike.
Interviewer: Lucky him. ( laughing )
Sasha: So far… My aim’s getting better every day.
Interviewer: And do you think that you two are a good match?
Sasha: The worst! It's like putting two crazy, egocentric
roosters in the same room. We can't help trying to strangle each other. At
first I was sure we were completely contradictory personalities with nothing in
common. But… in time I realized that I was wrong. We’re more similar than I
thought, but I’d never admit that in front of him.
Interviewer: How
so?
Sasha: We both had the same fear - letting another person
inside those defensive walls we built around us, to make them important to us.
For Alex, it was the fear of having feelings for someone who he’d eventually
need to let go. For me, it was the fear of watching people I loved getting
killed.
Interviewer: But
you overcame that fear of connecting with people. How?
Sasha: Hmm… there wasn't any conscious decision like: “OK,
from today I’ll let him be something more to me“, you know. It was more
like: “Oh, shit. This isn't happening!”
( laughing )
Interviewer: Were
you scared when you realized that?
Sasha: To my core, yes. To be honest, Alex can be a really
scary guy sometimes, and realizing you’re in love with someone like that, makes
you seriously question your sanity.
Interviewer: He
didn't look very scary to me. I mean, OK, he’s pretty huge and those tattoos
definitely don't make him look cuddly, but he doesn't look like a serial killer
either.
Sasha: Hah! You’ve never seen him trying to strangle some
random guy who dares to look at me the ‘wrong’ way.
Interviewer: He's
rather possessive, I see.
Sasha: Like a dog with a bone. It's not like he tries to
control me or anything, just… he doesn't like seeing good-looking guys around
me. Usually, he doesn't say or do anything and pretends that he doesn't even
notice them, but I can see it in his eyes - that urge to grab me and drag me
back to his cave. (laughing) Like a kid
who doesn't like to share his toys with the other children. It’s funny, really.
And to be completely honest - it bothers me less then it probably should. I
guess I feel flattered.
Interviewer: And
what about you? How do you react when you see girls flirting with him? I
suppose it happens a lot.
Sasha: All the time, but I've found rather productive
strategy for those situations. And, it never fails.
Interviewer: Oh?
Would you share it with us? I'm sure it would come in handy for our readers.
Sasha: Sure. It's really simple. Whenever I see a girl
flirting with him, I just put on my brightest smile and make she hears me when
I say: “Honey, your parole advisor just called. Better call him back or they’ll
haul your ass back to jail for another ten stretch.”
Interviewer: Well,
that would do the trick.
Sasha: It does, every time.
Interviewer: Thank
you so much, Sasha. Unfortunately, our time is up. Is there anything you’d like
to tell our readers before we finish?
Sasha: Don't be afraid to take risks and follow your heart.
Most of the time you’ll end up hurt, but those few times when you don't –
they’re worth it all.
*About the Author*
A teenager in an adult's body. A rebel in the guise of an ordinary citizen. A lady with very unladylike language. A dreamer with a rational mind. A woman born into the wrong era, she still believes that chivalry's a feat to define the perfect man.
Zoya spent years doing volunteering work all across Europe, from cleaning school basements in Northern Russia to excavating Stone Age artifacts in Euskadi (the Basque country) and renovating castles from the middle ages in Southern France. She always dreamed of working with 'Doctors without borders' somewhere out in Africa, but ended up doing an 'ordinary job' in one of the smaller European countries.
Her greatest passion is devouring each and every book that comes within her reach.
Zoya spent years doing volunteering work all across Europe, from cleaning school basements in Northern Russia to excavating Stone Age artifacts in Euskadi (the Basque country) and renovating castles from the middle ages in Southern France. She always dreamed of working with 'Doctors without borders' somewhere out in Africa, but ended up doing an 'ordinary job' in one of the smaller European countries.
Her greatest passion is devouring each and every book that comes within her reach.
*Author links*
*Giveaway*
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