As a Congressman's daughter in Washington, D.C., Kate Hamilton is good at getting what she wants -- what some people might call "interfering." But when her family moves to West Texas so her dad can run in a special election, Kate encounters some difficulties that test all her political skills. None of her matchmaking efforts go according to plan. Her father's campaign gets off to a rough start. A pro tip for moving to Texas: Don't slam the star quarterback's hand in a door. And whenever Kate messes up, the irritatingly right (and handsome) Hunter Price is there to witness it. But Kate has determination and a good heart, and with all her political savvy -- and a little clever interference -- she'll figure out what it takes to make Red Dirt home.
Terrifically funny and sweetly romantic, with whip-crack dialogue and a wise perspective on growing up, Interference is the perfect next read for fans of Jenny Han, Huntley Fitzpatrick, Elizabeth Eulberg, or Sarah Dessen.
Kay Honeyman
Kay Honeyman grew up in Texas, where she followed football and politics with equal passion. Her first novel,
The Fire Horse Girl, was nominated for three state awards. Kay now teaches language arts in Dallas, where she lives with her family. Please visit her website at www.kayhoneyman.com and follow her on Twitter at @kayhoneyman.
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- ! '"I don''t know how to drive."
He slammed on the brakes. "You''re kidding,
right?"
"My parents just never had time to teach me. We''re always busy campaigning.
And in D.C. we have this thing called public transportation."
Hunter put
the truck in park and got out.
"What are you doing?" I yelled through the
open back window. "We''re in the middle of the road. Get back in the car."
He
strolled to my door and pulled it open. "Move over."
"Why?"
"I''m
teaching you how to drive."
I shook my head. "I can''t."
"Come on,
you have to let me make up for being such an idiot," he said.
I slumped
against the seat and stared out the window. "No, you still don''t get it. I''ll
hit something," I said. "Then people will find out that I hit something, and my
dad will get furious, not because the car is wrecked, not because his insurance
goes up, but because the talk shows will start asking him questions about teenage
drivers. He''ll be asked if texting on the road should be illegal, and as a father,
does he support a curfew for teens. They won''t ask about me, but it will be a barrage
of questions that surround me, and he''ll have to field every one. Then they''ll
start looking at Kyle Stone''s driving record, which is probably perfect, and Dad
will come home at the end of the day, and I''ll get that look. The look you saw
today."
Hunter pointed out the front window. "What are you going to hit?"
I looked across an empty desert to the horizon. The sky stretched for miles
in front of me. It felt more part of the landscape than the sky in D.C., like you
could touch it.
"And if it helps," Hunter said, "Kyle drives like a blind
monkey."'