Launch Day Blitz - Right Kind of Wrong by Chelsea Fine - Review, Excerpt, & Giveaway!

(March 3, 2015; Forever Trade Paperback; $12.00)

Sometimes when perfect falls apart, a little trouble fixes everything . . .

Sometimes wrong can feel oh so right . . .
Jenna Lacombe needs complete control, whether it's in the streets . . . or between the sheets. So when she sets out on a solo road trip to visit her family in New Orleans, she's beyond annoyed that the infuriatingly sexy Jack Oliver wants to hitch a ride with her. Ever since they shared a wild night together last year, he's been trying to strip away her defenses one by one. He claims he's just coming along to keep her safe-but what's not safe for her is prolonged exposure to the tattooed hottie.

Jack can't get Jenna out from under his skin. She makes him feel alive again after his old life nearly destroyed him-and losing her is not an option. Now Jack's troubles are catching up to him, and he's forced to return to his hometown in Louisiana. But when his secrets put them both in harm's way, Jenna will have to figure out how far she's willing to let love in . . . and how much she already has.

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My Review

4.5 Stars

I guess it is official....I love Chelsea Fine's writing. I have had the chance to read exactly 3 books written by Chelsea Fine and have enjoyed each and everyone of them. I literally consumed this book. I ended up reading the whole book in a single day. I had a lot of fun with this quick, easy read.

This book is the third book in the Finding Fate series but it could very easily be read as a stand alone novel. This book focuses on Jenna and Jack. We first met Jenna in Best Kind of Broken. She became best friends with Pixie in college, where they are roommates. Jenna and Jack are friends who met through working at the local bar. They are both drawn to each other and have acted on that one time but have never talked about it. Jenna is determined to not get herself involved in any kind of relationship.

When Jenna's mom calls to tell her that her grandmother thinks that the end may be coming (which she apparently does every year or two), she decides a road trip home to New Orleans is in order. It just so happens that Jack is from a small town near New Orleans and his family is in the middle of a crisis. One thing leads to another, and the pair are off on a road trip together. During the road trip, they learn quite a bit about each other and their feeling for one another.

Without question, Jack made this story. His character was loving, funny, and fierce when needed. He was not afraid to say what he felt and he was willing to risk everything for his family. I found that I liked Jenna but wanted to smack her a few times. She was so hung up on her master plan that she refused to see what was right in front of her. The chemistry between the characters was amazing. I actually felt that they needed to be together.

I would definitely recommend this book to others. Chelsea Fine's writing is well thought out with a plot that keeps the reader engaged in the story. I plan to continue reading this series and hope to read other works by this author.

I received an advance reader edition of this book from Forever Grand Central Publishing and Net Galley for the purpose of providing an honest review.

About Chelsea Fine:

Chelsea lives in Phoenix, Arizona, where she spends most of her time writing stories, painting murals, and avoiding housework at all costs. She's ridiculously bad at doing dishes and claims to be allergic to laundry. Her obsessions include: superheroes, coffee, sleeping-in, and crazy socks. She lives with her husband and two children, who graciously tolerate her inability to resist teenage drama on TV and her complete lack of skill in the kitchen.

Social Media Links: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads

Giveaway -5 Signed Copies of RIGHT KIND OF WRONG
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The way I felt about Jenna used to piss me off. I’ve never been one to need or even want a girl messing up my life. Just the opposite, in fact. The Lone Wolf role suited me well and I was perfectly content with my world of solitude. But Jenna came along and twisted everything up. She turned me inside out and made me feel complete in a way that made no sense. I fought the sentiment, of course. There’s no room for anyone in my messed up life—especially not a wild, stubborn, reckless girl like Jenna.

But fighting proved futile, and somewhat self-destructive, so I did what all good leaders do when they realize losing a battle could mean winning the war: I surrendered. Not to Jenna, exactly, but to the way she made me feel. It’s not a pretty or romantic thing. It’s a truth with scars and holes—and it commands me completely.

Does that make me weak? I used to think so. But then I see Jenna, still in the throes of a battle I’ve long since succumbed to, and I wonder which of us is stronger. Which of us sleeps well at night and which of us tosses in the moonlight.

Strength isn’t about what you can and cannot achieve. It’s about what you will and will not do in order to achieve. And on that, I know exactly where I stand.

Watching Jenna across the inn’s lobby, I take a deep breath and prepare for round two of what is sure to be a memorable—if not fatal—road trip back home.

“I’m ready when you are, diva!” I call out.

Complete agitation covers her face as she whips around with narrowed eyes and yells, “Don’t. Call. Me. DIVA!”

I grin. “It never gets old.”

“God!” she exclaims, thrusting her arms up again.

The look on her face is priceless. I could do this all day. I might, actually.

Wagging my eyebrows in an inappropriate manner, I slip back outside and let the door fall shut.

A moment later, the inn door flies open and Jenna stomps down the porch steps to meet me by the car. I quickly shove my phone in my pocket, wanting to put as much distance as possible between my present circumstances and the mess waiting for me back home, and climb into the car at the same time she does.

She’s huffing and puffing and cursing under her breath like a spoiled teenager, but when her eyes finally flick to mine there’s no hostility there, just impatience.

“You’re paying for all the gas,” she says, sliding a pair of dark sunglasses over her golden eyes. “And I mean every single drop.”

I lean back in the passenger seat, repressing the joyous satisfaction I feel at the haughtiness on her face. “Yes, ma’am.”

If buying Jenna’s gas keeps her safe by my side then I’ll purchase every last drop in the country. And then some.


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