#NewAsh New Adult Scavenger Hunt
Welcome to New Adult Scavenger Hunt! This bi-annual event was inspired as a way to give readers a chance to gain access to exclusive bonus material from their favorite authors…and a chance to win some awesome prizes! At this hunt, you not only get access to exclusive content from each author, you also get a clue for the hunt. Add up the clues, and you can enter for our prize–one lucky winner will receive one book from each author! But play fast: this contest (and all the exclusive bonus material) will only be online for 96 hours!
Go to the New Adult Scavenger Hunt page to find out all about the hunt. There is one contest! On the website, you'll find links to all the authors participating and see the full list of prizes up for grabs.
***THE SCAVENGER HUNT***
Directions: Below, you’ll notice that I’ve listed my lucky book number. Collect the lucky book numbers of all the authors, and then add them up (don’t worry, you can use a calculator!).
Entry Form: Once you’ve added up all the numbers, make sure you fill out the form here to officially qualify for the grand prize. Only entries that have the correct number will qualify.
Rules: Open internationally, anyone below the age of 18 should have a parent or guardian’s permission to enter. To be eligible for the grand prize, you must submit the completed entry form by December 30th, at noon Eastern Time. Entries sent without the correct number or without contact information will not be considered.
LET THE HUNT BEGIN!
***MEET D. L. PITCHFORD, AUTHOR OF IF WE HAD NO WINTER***
YA and NA author D. L. Pitchford is best known for her brutally honest stories and realistic characters.Throughout her childhood, art and literature were encouraged in every form. Pitchford fell in love with The Lord of the Rings, The Dark Is Rising, and Harry Potter. By age ten, she wrote her first fantasy book. Her love of writing grew exponentially.In 2013, Pitchford received her BA in English, Writing, and Fine Arts from Drury University. During her studies, she focused on the human condition and penned the first scenes of her debut novel. IF WE HAD NO WINTER released April 2017 and has been commended for its gritty tone and character growth. Pitchford lives with her husband and two sons in Springfield, Missouri, where she continues writing young and new adult novels.
***IF WE HAD NO WINTER***
After her parents’ divorce, introverted Billie Dixon buries herself in her studies. Her plan? To stay out of sight, out of mind, and out of trouble. But that plan fails when she starts at Bradford College.
While hopeful to renew her relationship with her estranged father, she struggles to resist the advances of her persuasive tutoring student. But no one gets under her skin like her best friend’s playboy roommate, whose snarky smirk drives her up a wall…and into his bed.
But is Billie too broken to open her heart again?
If she can’t find closure with her father, she’ll close the door on love. But a huge fight with her father threatens to ruin any hope of healing her past and securing her future.
The following scene is an excerpt from a short story from the perspective of Xander Theroux, one of the main characters in If We Had No Winter. The short story functions as a companion to the novel.
I collapse on the snow beside her.
The wine bottle is empty now. Her eyes can barely focus. Can she even register I'm back?
I nudge the curls from her eyes with a heavy sigh. "You know, you weren't supposed to drink that whole thing."
She frowns, but it takes her a minute to register my words. "You told me to."
"Yeah, well, since when do you listen to what me?" I don't give her a chance to respond before standing. I pull her up with me and hold her close so she doesn't fall. She smells like wine and shame. "Come on, Dixon. We're going back."
"Back where?" She clings to me, her body pressed close, her fingers twisted around my wool coat, and when she looks up at me, her big, dilated eyes meet mine. She's not angry like before; she's so drunk I doubt she has that capability. "Xander, where are you taking me?"
For a moment, I can imagine the desperation, the neediness in her voice is for me and not due to some stupid bottle of wine and the demons in her own head.
That moment lasts no more than a second.
"Your dad's house."
She tries to shake her head. "I don't want to see him again. Please don't take me back there."
I lead her toward the fence line, and she clutches my arm to stay steady as we trek through the snow. "Where else would you go?"
"You can't stay here."
When we reach the fence, I hold the barbed wire aside, and though she manages to crawl through the hole, she can't stand up once on the other side. I follow her through and drag her to her feet again.
She latches on to the collar of my wool coat, holding on for dear life, and looks up with the deepest, most desperate eyes. Her lip quivers; her hazel eyes sparkle with unshed tears. "Please," she finally manages. "Xander, please. Take me anywhere but there. I don't care." She pulls me closer, but the movement is too fast—she stumbles backward into the side of the car, dragging me with her.
My fingers grip my Camaro, my other hand clutches her tiny waist—she's so fragile—and my body presses hers against the passenger-side window.
Our faces are closer than they've ever been.
There are so many places I'd like to take her, each a perfect location for the same carnal act. I'd remove her clothes in a languorous fashion, extract each layer blocking my view, and once those layers are gone, I'd kiss every inch of her freckled copper skin. And when she's begging—literally begging—I'd plunge inside her and fuck her until she screams from pleasure.
My eyes find hers again, but she's dazed, unfocused.
She's too drunk to focus, too drunk to realize how provocative her words sound, too drunk to mean the look in her entrancing eyes, and definitely too drunk for anything I want to do to her.
I try to peel off her fingers, but her grip is strong, and she draws my attention to her lips. "Xander, please, I'll do anything."
I heave a sigh, swallow down any desire for her, and pull away. I should not be getting a hard-on from this. "You need to go back. Your dad is worried. Jimmy's worried."
She shakes her head. "I don't care. Just hold me. I can't stand anymore. Is this normal?"
"When you drink a bottle of wine almost entirely by yourself? Yeah, that's pretty normal." My fingers find the handle to our right, and I tug open the door. "Dixon, you need to take better care of yourself."
Even drunk, she scoffs. "What's the point? No one cares about me. Why should I?"
"You know, Dixon, I care about you a great deal." Despite my previous resolve, I turn back to her, cupping her cheek so she'll look at me. "I wish you cared half as much as I do."
"That's a funny joke, Xander."
"I'm not joking. I don't have to like you to care about you."
Although, with her body pressing against me, even with these layers upon layers of clothing between us, it's hard not to like her.
"Come on. Let's get in the car." I pull her toward the open door, but she's no help—I have to drag her. "Seriously, Dixon. We're going back to your dad's."
Even as I belt her in, she's still fighting me. "Please, Xander—"
"Sober up." I shut her door and climb into the driver's seat. I take a few minutes to scavenge in the back seat. Somewhere, I have a couple bottles of water for tonight's trip, delayed once again.
Her voice is different, more determined—impressive considering how much she drank—and I turn, concerned. "Yeah?"
"Don't take me back there."
"I have to, I'm sorry."
Her eyes harden. "I hate you."
And I heave a sigh, giving up on locating the bottle of water. "That's fine. Do whatever you need to." I return to the steering wheel, pull out my keys, and start the engine. "But it doesn't change anything. We're going back."
To enter, you need to know that my lucky book number is 7.
Add up all the lucky numbers of the authors and you’ll have the secret code to enter for the grand prize!
***CONTINUE THE HUNT***
To keep going on your quest for the hunt, you need to check out the next author, J Lenni Dorner!