Alora Kate and Blogging for the love of authors and their books, would like to invite you to join her release blitz and blog tour for The Price We Pay.

**Release Blitz - September 16th**
**Blog Tour - September 23rd to October 7th**

Sneak Peak:
“His name is Latch.” Sofia said. She was holding back the floor to ceiling beige curtains just enough to allow her to peer out the living room window at our neighbor.

“Well at least that’s what I heard the door man say when he walked in the building earlier. Took me long enough to figure that out. Who has a name like that? Latch. Latch.” She said a few times, testing his name out, rolling the sounds around in her mouth.

She was at it again. She was convinced that our neighbor was a drug dealer, a sex trafficker, a gun smuggler … you name it, and she thought it.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not his real name,” I replied.  Even if it was his real name, Latch wasn’t as bad as Marvey.

A boy named Marvey; now that could work. I bet he would be an accountant, and Marvey is the cutesy name his obnoxious girlfriend calls him when she needs some money. A girl named Marvey? Nope, it doesn’t work. I had to endure years and years of teasing from nasty ass kids, teachers always questioning me on the first day of school, and even people wondering if that was my real name.

I mean, who names their kid Marvey?

Oh that’s right, the woman who gave birth to me - gave me life - then waited until I was tucked away in the nursery to leave. Yes, just up and left! No note, no explanation, just up and left me, her daughter, in the hospital alone with no family.

But not before naming me Marvey!

Yes, this was still a sore subject for me.

“Probably not, but still.” Sofia twirled around from the window to face me, making her thick, long, chestnut brown hair fling around her shoulder. Her Mom was from Brazil, so you can guess what she looks like already. A tan that never fades, high cheek bones, flawless skin, eyes that match the color of her hair, perfectly shaped eye brows - only because she gets them waxed once a week – and full, heart shaped lips.

She shut her notebook and eyed me up and down.

“Seriously Marv, you have unlimited access to my wardrobe and you still dress like that?”

She rolled her eyes at me and set the notebook on the table. She closed the distance between us, disappointment and disgust marring her perfect features.

I glanced down at myself – hot pink tank top and black capris, my standard outfit. Well the capris were more like sweatpants, but so damn comfortable. My black flip flops completed my look. Anyway, it’s not like I could ever afford the clothes Sofia wore.

I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s comfy.”

“It’s old.”

“Just because it was cheap doesn’t mean it’s old.”

“You look old,” she eyed me up and down again, “and frumpy.”

“I’m twenty-four!” I snapped back.


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