September 17, 2014

Blog Tour Promo Post: Madness by J. L. Vallance

at 9/17/2014 12:00:00 AM

I never wanted to fall in love.

I lived a life tainted by mental illness and the stigma that came with it. That illness almost claimed my life once and I had a promise to keep, a promise that I would live, no matter how much it hurt. All I craved in life was marginal happiness, a little success, and an unfractured mind. I longed for the normalcy that the rest of the world thrived on while fearing the intimacy that could snap the thin thread with which I held onto sanity.

I may not have had it all, but I was close...until he crashed into my world.

He turned everything upside down and shifted the scales of my balanced world. He was charming and charismatic with a healthy dash of trouble and volatility rolled in. He was completely and perfectly damaged. I tumbled hard and fast.

I fell in love with Rory O’Neill and our world was little more than madness....and it was fucking beautiful. 

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“What do you want from me, O’Neill?”

Rory released a heavy sigh, leaning back in the chair. He studied me carefully, as if he 

were attempting to solve a puzzle. He could try for the rest of his life; I was one jigsaw he’d 

never be able to solve.

“To date you,” he replied simply, and I belted out a laugh.

“Why?” I asked, continuing without allowing for an answer. “You are the type that goes 

on dates to get the prize at the end. You got the prize, buddy. You didn’t even have to work for 

it. If you are coming back because you think I’m a big skank-bank and you can get a withdrawal 

whenever you want, you’ve got the wrong girl.”

It was his turn to laugh. It was an erotic sound that put my already frayed nerves on a 

higher, more precarious edge than they had been. I followed his posture and leaned back, but 

instead of holding my stomach in gut busting laughter, I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Is that what you think this is?” he gasped. “Christ, I could have slept with at least 

seventy women since you.”

“Is that supposed to win me over?”

“Yes,” he answered seriously. “I have no problem picking women up.”

I didn’t doubt that. Hadn’t since the night I’d met him. It was the charisma, the mega-
watt smile, the sultry sex-filled voice. His body, smile, voice, and touch promised a good night in 

the making if one simply took his hand.

I want to take his fucking hand. . .

“Good, then you won’t be alone tonight,” I replied, moving to rise from the table when 

he reached out and grabbed my arm, stopping me.

“I don’t want other women, Francesca. I want you,” he said, the smile missing from his 

“I’ve wanted nothing but you since November.”

I shook my head.

“I’m not like other women, Mr. O’Neill.”

“Please, call me—”

“Rory, it doesn’t matter what I call you. The message will remain the same.”

“Didn’t you ever stop to think that maybe that’s what I like about you?” he countered.

No, no I didn’t. Being different is what set me apart—in a bad way. That’s what makes 

people dislike me. Not that I mind that—being disliked. I’ve spent the majority of my life being 

different, being an outsider. I am the woman that I am, with the issues I have, and that fact will 

never change. I’m proud of the obstacles I have overcome and look forward to defeating the 

ones that are waiting in the wings.

“You don’t know me to know whether you like me or not,” I argued. My dad had always 

told me I’d be great for the debate team.

“I know what I felt with you.”

“You felt tequila,” I replied. “And my vagina. Go find some Cuervo and a willing 

participant and repeat.”

“First, I have a high tolerance. That tequila barely touched me. Quit trying to downplay 

what happened between us. Take a little responsibility.”

“Ha!” I belted, placing a hand over my mouth. “Listen, we had a really great time. But I 

don’t date, I don’t do romance or happily ever after. That’s not written in my stars.”

“What is written in your stars?” he asked with a quirk of the brow.

“A bright future with me, myself, and I.”

About the Author

J. L. Vallance is a wife, mom, and nurse by day, while posing as a writer by night. Plagued with an overactive imagination, a lover of all things supernatural in nature, she has an extraordinary flair for the dramatic that adds flavor to life. There’s little in her world that Otis Redding and buttercream icing can’t fix. And of course, coffee always helps too. True story.



One single anchor bracelet

One anchor and infinity bracelet

One anchor necklace with stamped pendant that says "You are my anchor".

One necklace with a gun charm and a stamped pendant that says "I keep a close watch on this of mine".

And two ecopies of Madness



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