Saturday, 4 February 2017

Blog Tour, Review, Excerpt & Giveaway ~ The Failing Hours (How to Date a Douchebag #2) by Sara Ney


Title: How To Date A Douchebag: The Failing Hours
Author: Sara Ney
Genre: New Adult, Sports Romance, College Romance
Release Date: January 31, 2017
Book Description:
Zeke Daniels isn't just a douchebag; he's an asshole. 

A total and complete jerk, Zeke keeps people at a distance. He has no interest in relationships—most assholes don’t. 

Dating? Being part of a couple? Nope. Not for him.

He's never given any thought to what he wants in a girlfriend, because he's never had any intention of having one. 

Shit, he barely has a relationship with his family, and they're related; his own friends don’t even like him. 

So why does he keep thinking about Violet DeLuca? 

Sweet, quiet Violet—his opposite in every sense of the word. 

The light to his dark, even her damn name sounds like rays of sunshine and happiness and shit.

And that pisses him off, too.

Buy Links:




Our Review:

Reviewed by Donna ~ 4.5 stars
***ARC received for an honest review***


““Everyone has a choice.” And no one chooses me.”


I loved the first book in this series and Sara Ney has done it again with The Failing Hours. Once again, this story is set amongst our spandex, singlet wearing wrestlers and this time it is the turn of Zeke Daniels.

Zeke Daniels has severe abandonment issues and is very self-deprecating. He knows he is an arsehole and yet he cannot seem to do anything about it. Zeke is full of anger, anger at the world in general, his parents, his friends…just his whole life. His parents may have money, he may have material things but the things he wanted the most…he was deprived of, attention, time and love. Zeke has no filter, he is brutally honest, he is incredibly moody and people give him a wide berth for fear of the repercussions. Underneath that frosty exterior though is a guy with a huge heart, one that wants to love and to be loved even if he doesn’t quite realise it…yet.


“Nobody hit me at their house. But nobody hugged me either.”


Violet De Luca is similar to Zeke in the fact that she lost her parents too, albeit, they passed away when she was young rather than Zeke’s who just couldn’t give a shit. Since the death of her parents and being pushed from one home to another Violet developed a stutter, she works at the library, is a tutor and a conscientious student. On the outside, she is meek and timid, but when Violet finds her voice, she has passion and power. The opposite to Zeke, yet you know what they say…opposites attract.


“I’m not the kind of girl you just sleep with. I-I’m the kind you keep.”


When these two first cross paths, Violet is understandably intimidated, even the strongest of women would crumble under Zeke’s cantankerous, malicious barbs and sarcastic demeanour and yet the more time they spend in one and others company Violet sees something nobody else does.


“I wish I could say I was going to try harder to not be such a dick, but this is who I am. I’m an ass and I’ve been like this a long time. But you’re not jaded – not like me. I’m a beautiful mess… You’re just beautiful.”


Sara Ney did a perfect job in portraying realistic and relatable characters that worm their way into your heart and soul and each other’s. Violet is clandestine in the way that she chips away at Zeke’s harsh, cold, exterior and the more she chips, the more warmth and honesty Zeke emits. We finally get to see what Violet could from the beginning, his chivalrous and admirable qualities finally make it to the forefront. Yes, his inner arsehole still comes out to play at times but no man is perfect.


“I might be a douchebag, but I’m not a quitter.”


The chemistry that these two share radiates off the page and Zeke and Violets vulnerabilities make them characters that you cannot help but root for from the very start. Together they complement each other, Zeke gives Violet her voice and Violet tampers Zeke’s down. Violet makes Zeke smile, yes it did happen…as often as the appearance of Haley’s Comet, but with Violet that smile is a lot more permanent. Both are unwilling to trust in the first instance but together they work through it. It is this slow progression that makes this story all the more believable.


“The best part of me is you, Violet.”



I still had some laughs throughout this book, but for me, this was more about the romance. I also want to say that as a person that has a stutter herself, Sara Ney captured this side of Violet perfectly. Not once did this aspect of the story come across as derogatory or as a piss take but more as an endearing side to Violets character. Sara Ney delivered once again and I cannot wait to read more from this series. 

Early Praise:


"Best Read of 2017! A one click must for any lover of hot, sexy romance done RIGHT ! [This] story is the quintessential slow burn effect...Zeke will come to own your body and soul--I am OBSESSED with this series and The Failing Hours has just shot to my 'Best of All Time' list. Be prepared to fall in love with a douche bag and the woman who sets him straight. " - Books and Boys Book Blog
“That was EVERYTHING I expected, wanted, dreamed of. . . this is a MUST FREAKING READ. UNFORGETTABLE goodness. NA romance at it's best.”  - Angie’s Dreamy Reads
"Sara Ney has delivered a sexy, jerkwad douchebag with soul-deep feelings and the sweet, kind, unassuming girl to reach his hidden heart in one of the best NA romantic comedies I've ever had the pleasure of reading. Ney's impeccable writing, fresh characters, and feel-good story will stick with you forever." - Bestselling Author Staci Hart
"I took so much pleasure in Zeke’s looming destruction (insert evil laugh)...." - The Reading Belles

Excerpt:

The clock on the wall counts the seconds, steady as the rhythm of my beating heart, which thumps wildly within my chest until the glass door to the library opens, propelled by a gust of wind.

Some new fallen leaves flutter in, the heavy doors slamming from the draft.

Along with them? Zeke Daniels.

He shuffles in, dark gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips, black Iowa Wrestling hoodie pulled up over his head, the university’s bright yellow mascot screen-printed across the chest. Backpack slung over one shoulder, black athletic flip-flops, and a pair of black sunglasses perched on the bridge of his strong nose complete the overall ensemble.
He is utterly…ridiculous. 

Unapproachable. 

Daunting.

His arrogance knows no bounds; I can see it in his loose gait, the exaggerated swagger, and the too-casual way he’s dragging his flip-flops across the cold, marble tile floor. It’s noisy, irritating, and completely uncalled for. 

In the moment, my mind drifts to his personal life, and I theorize that he listens to heavy metal music to sooth his foul temperament, drinks his coffee black—as black as his soul—and his liquor straight up. I imagine once he’s had sex with someone, they’re never invited back. I go one step further and theorize that they’re never invited to spend the night at his place, either.

Zeke Daniels makes his way to a table at the far end of the room, near the periodicals, one out of the way with plenty of privacy.

Sets his bag down in one of the four wooden chairs. Flicks on the small study lamp. Plugs his laptop cord into the base and stands. 

Turns.

Our eyes would have met then were it not for those ludicrous sunglasses. I choose the exact moment he lifts his gaze to look down at the ground. Busy myself with shuffling papers on the counter. Count to ten instead of chanting, Please don’t come over, please don’t come over, please don’t come over…

But luck isn’t on my side because he most decidedly does. 

Makes his way over like a predator at a pace so deliberate, I’m convinced he’s doing it on purpose. As if he suspects I’m watching from under my long lashes, dreading his imminent arrival.

He basks in my discomfort.

The distance between us closes, his strides purposeful.

Twenty feet.

Fifteen.

Ten.

Eight.

Three.

His large hand reaches up, pushing down the hood of his sweatshirt, his fingertips pinching the earpiece of his sunglasses and pulling them off his face. My eyes follow the movements as he folds them closed, hanging them on the neckline of his hoodie. 

His gaze lingers—those clear gray eyes famous around campus—and finds the shiny silver bellhop bell perched on the counter with the sign next to it that reads, Ring for help.

Ding. 

The tip of his forefinger presses down on the small bell.

Ding.

He hits it again, despite me standing not three feet in front of him.

What an ass.


Other Books in Series:

Purveyor of all things witty & romantic, I love: iced latte's, traveling, and bright, bold colors. On any given day, you can find me in my office, lovingly gazing at my bookshelf or shuffling my Bic felt-tip pen collection. I love hand writing letters, and sarcasm. 

I live in the midwest, but "Will Write for Travel," and believe everyone should follow their dreams, no matter how big or small. My favorite authors include Cindy Miles, S Walden, Suzanne Enoch, Tessa Dare (to name a few). I am a glutton for Historical, RomCom, Sports and MC romance. 
One husband. Two daughters. Plenty of chaos. 


Giveaway:


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