Excerpt: I Spy the Boy Next Door by Samantha Armstrong

About The Book:

http://www.samantharmstrong.com

Four p.m. spy sessions are the highlight of Mallory Taylor’s day. Observing the boy next door—one with a body and an attitude to match—has her perched beside her window so often it can’t be healthy.

When she finally convinces her mom to let her go to public school, Mallory comes face to face with her neighbor, Troy Parker. And he makes it clear he wants nothing to do with her. His rejection awakens a newfound tenacity and maybe even a touch of recklessness. But when Troy starts to show up when she needs him the most, Mallory can’t help but wonder if there’s more to him than he’s let on.

Taking chances, breaking rules, and following her heart is all new to Mallory. And no one warned her just how fickle hearts can be. When she discovers that Troy isn’t at all the guy she imagined him to be, secrets rise to the surface that will change her life forever.

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Featured In June/July 2019 Issue: Summer Reads

“I’ve had a crush on the same guy my whole life. Well, not quite the entire seventeen years, but ever since he moved in next door five years ago and smiled at me. It was the only smile I’ve ever gotten from him. And even then, it didn’t last long.

When I’d handed him back his deflated football that had flown over our fence, the smile had quickly vanished. It wasn’t my fault that he’d practically enticed my dog to play fetch when his ball came barreling into our backyard.

But even as he scowled at me, something about him completely sucked me in. Maybe it was his mysterious nature and innocent, deep-blue eyes. All I know is that the attraction today is clear—his six-foot frame, unruly dark hair, and tattoos have me ogling him whenever I get the chance. But there’s no innocence captivating his eyes these days. They’re harsh, focused, and completely oblivious of ​me​.

I take the stairs two at a time, making a beeline for my bedroom. I know his routine like the back of my hand, and right now is one of the only times knowing his routine matters.

“Mal, where did you put my—”

“Get out of the way, Grieva!” I slam the door shut in my little brother’s face and dart to the window.

Hiding behind a window frame, I peer down onto the street. The annoying OCD man in the house opposite ​his​ is mowing the lawn again. I silently scold him for ruining what is possibly the best forty-five seconds of my day. The man seems to spend an inordinate amount of time in his front yard. I glare at his back, but as he goes to turn around, I jerk my head out of the way so he can’t see me. I’ve caught him looking up here a few times, and to say it’s creepy is an understatement. Though, I guess I’m the last person who should pass that judgment.

I move to the edge of the curtain and let out a breath when I see his attention has returned to his perfectly manicured grass.

“Come on, come on, come on,” I whisper-chant, flicking my gaze to the wall clock, then back out to the street below.

Any minute now.”

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