Release Blitz for The Best Chance by Elena Monroe
Sinner, he’s criminal.
I was unwavering. I’m handcuffed to who I’m supposed to be.
I’m the guy you don’t take a chance on.
I’m the guy who has all the best intentions and none of the graceful follow
I’m the guy your dad hates and your mom still fantasizes about during their
stale moments of passion.
At least, I used to be all of those things until the girl I loved from a safe
distance decided I was too much of risk.
I used to be all those things until I saw Addi’s poisonous red lips taunting me
to hurt a little bit more.
She had been chewed up and spit out by everyone who was supposed to love
A girl full of destructive risks was going to make me the best chance she ever
I used to vie for my parents approval, I never wished my perfect sister any
good wishes, and let the voice of insecurities become a bitch.
I’m no longer her shadow of imperfection.
I’m the girl you want a wild night with even when I giggle and tell you I’m not
that kind of girl.
I’m the girl who has a chip on my shoulder, filler in my lips, and a master
list of all the corrupt things I want to try before I die.
Get drunk at a college party? Check.
Sleep with a married man? Check.
Fall in love? That is going to be the most corrupt thing I have ever
Convince someone to love me, every rotten part.
laughed, watching death get close enough to scare me shitless but not do any
DNA. Changes like this only happened from loving… and losing.
elbows into my knees to steady my breathing. No matter how many times this had
happened, none of it felt comfortable, and I wasn’t getting used to it.
unable to hear or see me. I was invisible to her, and that hit too close to
reality. She never saw me, not like how I saw her. Her vision, her heart, her
words… every ounce of care was reserved for someone else, long before he
waltzed into her life.
sweat coating my body, like I had run a few miles. That was new.
sleeping body, wrapped in silk pajamas and wearing an eye mask, preventing her
from witnessing this.
bathroom to analyze how shitty my outside probably matched my growing
conscience inside. The abrasive lights made my eyes buckle and close, and I
fumbled for any kind of dimmer switch. Just like my feelings: on a low.
the water and let the sun bake my curls into position. My eyes were still
squinting and had dark bags under them. My skin was a paler version of its
norm. Easily now, pushing through the surface was my soul—that goddamn thing I
buried so deep that I thought I’d only see it again when I died.
my name in Addi’s cursive on an In-N-Out bag I hadn’t noticed before: Hunter,
eat some damn food.
and underlined inside.
grew up in Florida scribbling down stories from a very young age. These stories
were really just wavy lines filling the paper, but she knew each word, each
emotion, each character’s name, and there was no tricking her into forgetting
what each line signified. Just like her unconventional way of writing as a
toddler Elena is setting her own rules and just telling stories.Much like her debut novel, The Best Years, life certainly imitated art.
Transplanting from the South to the East Coast, Elena currently lives in
Connecticut with her soon to be husband, reformed bad boy.Find her on her social media through Twitter at @elenamonroe, Instagram at
@elenamonroewrites, Facebook at @elenamonroewrites, and more!