Kiss My Assassin Blog Tour: Uncontrollably Wasted by Cara Elizabeth

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Kiss My Assassin Blog Tour

If there’s one thing I love, it’s the Wasted series by C. Elizabeth Vescio. The writing is fresh, the dialogue witty, and it’s action packed full of goodness. I would love to see this made into a TV show!

In case you’re unfamiliar with the story, Uncontrollably Wasted is the second book in the Wasted series. Check out the cover and the blurb below, as well as an exclusive excerpt from the book!



What it’s about:

“I needed to learn to be less melodramatic, but it was hard in this family.”

It’s been a year since Francesca Fairholm met the rest of the Osiris team and the company heads, her two half brothers Nero and Lex. As they groom her for leadership, it’s all Frankie can do to keep her cynical sarcasm in check as she starts training two new Strikers, avoids the romantic advances of Spark Dawson, and does her best to pry a little family history from her cold, distant Aunt Alexa.

With the pressure of her secret dual life building and her mother acting strangely, Frankie’s sanity is pushed to the brink when she makes a grisly discovery that shakes the young Striker to her core. Despite her cousins’ fear that her panic attacks signal a full mental breakdown, Frankie is positive she’s not crazy. Finding clarity in her personal investigation into Osiris’s origins, she uncovers more about the company than she would rather know.

As her life starts to unravel, things get deadly and, before she knows it, she’s facing down an old target’s pissed-off widow, an unstoppable mercenary, and the one thing she’s most terrified of admitting to herself.
It’s possible the whole situation won’t explode in her face. Yeah, like Frankie has that kind of luck.


Check out the following scene from the book Uncontrollably Wasted, that takes place with characters Frankie and Alexa.


Alexa reached out suddenly and brushed my hair away from my eyes.

“You look like your mother when you worry,” she said, trying to smile. “I miss her, sometimes.”

“You do?” I was confused.

“Yes,” she nodded. “We were best friends once.”

That might explain their perfume preferences.

“I didn’t know,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no need to be sorry. It was a long time ago,” Alexa forced a smile. “The Fairholms don’t like mentioning me. You know that.”

“Yeah,” I didn’t know what to say.

My aunt Greta hadn’t been thrilled to see Alexa in the moments before her death. I knew there was some fucked up story there, but I was too afraid to ask.

“I’m sorry you aren’t friends anymore,” I said. “Whatever happened…”

“It’s all in the past,” she smiled. “You’re here and you are fighting for this dream of your father’s. That’s all that matters, now.”

There was something in her voice that made me uneasy. I couldn’t place it.

“It’s just difficult,” I said.

She cocked her head to the side.

“Being here and always worrying about what my mom would think if she found out.”

“She won’t,” Alexa said. “And if she does it wouldn’t matter. If there’s one thing your mother is good at, it’s pretending like the truth doesn’t exist.”

She said it so matter-of-factly that I let out a short laugh. It was such a catty thing to say that the intangible veil surrounding my aunt dropped completely.

I smiled at her.

“Well, you let me kill for you for a few years before you came forward so you’re both bitches.”

Alexa’s mouth opened in mock shock and she playfully began to pout.

“Are you saying we’re all fucked up?”

“Definitely,” I chuckled.

Frankie Quote

About the Author

C. Elizabeth VescioC. Elizabeth Vescio is a jack of all trades and stereotypical black sheep, Cara has been writing somewhat dark and morbid since that teen angst hit somewhere in the early 90′s- probably because her dad was a mortician. After pursuing a degree in English, she changed gears to photography and design in 2006… although she kept penning stories for fun while reading the works of Edgar Allen Poe, Oscar Wilde and Hemingway (whom she adores even though he was a huge douche canoe). In 2009, her life shifted considerably and she found herself writing Elegantly Wasted- helping her sort out a bunch of stupid feelings and other lame stuff.

She enjoys cynical debates, cupcakes, making her mother-in-law sew her aprons that she never wears, zombies, the Fifth Element and Tomb Raider. She gathers her life inspirations from Neil Gaiman, Julia Child and Paul Simon. When she isn’t out photographing her next project, she’s studying color, concept and design or writing stuff down in hopes it makes sense one day… or she’s on Pinterest.

Cara lives in Las Vegas with her husband, John and their three genetically altered dogs all of which have personal vendettas for the guy who cleans the pool.

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