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Trip Wiley used to merely be the gorgeous new guy at Layla Warren’s Catholic high school. Fifteen years later, he just happens to be Hollywood’s hottest commodity.

REMEMBER WHEN

Years before Trip Wiley could be seen on movie screens all over the world, he could be seen sitting in the desk behind me in my high school English class.

This was back in 1990, and I cite the year only to avoid dumbfounding you when references to big hair or stretch pants are mentioned. Although, come to think of it, I am from New Jersey, which may serve as explanation enough. We were teenagers then, way back in a time before anyone, himself included, could even dream he’d turn into the Hollywood commodity that he is today.

I’m sure I don’t need to tell you who Trip Wiley is. But on the off chance you’ve been living under a rock for the past decade, just know that these days, he’s the bad boy actor found at the top of every casting director’s wish list. He’s incredibly talented and insanely gorgeous, the combination of which has made him very rich, very famous and very desirable.

And not just to casting directors, either.

I can’t confirm any of the gossip from his early years out in Tinseltown, but based on what I knew of his life before he was famous, I can tell you that the idea of Girls-Throwing-Themselves-At-Trip is not a new concept.

I should know. I was one of them.

And my life hasn’t been the same since.

Remember When is the first story in an NA romance trilogy. It will take you back to that time before the real world kicked in, that limbo between adolescence and adulthood, that trial of hanging on to the past while figuring out where the future will lie.

With heart-shredding romance, steamy love scenes and hilarious eighties references, readers of all ages will find themselves rooting for Layla and dreaming about Trip for years to come. It’s an endearing journey through the tumultuous world of friendship, family and high school…

…and the memory of that one incredible guy your heart just can’t seem to forget.

Hysterical! Made me want to break out a can of Aqua Net and hit the Jersey shore. Loved the characters and their sweet and steamy love story. You’ll find yourself rooting for Layla and dreaming about Trip for years to come.
~Mika Thomas, Fictional Person

There are so many things I loved about this sweet and funny book. The writing was flawless, the story was addictive; I cried, I laughed out loud and I swooned… I devoured every single minute… all the way through it was handled with so much love and a huge dash of humor… You felt it all and it was such a wonderful experience… Remember When was fun, it was sexy, it was a giggle a minute, it was beautiful….yep, it was perfect.
~Gitte and Jenny, Totally Booked Blog

If you think you know what this book is about based solely on the synopsis, you would be wrong. Remember When is so much more… I laughed out loud, I cried, I swooned, I squeed… I angered, I hurt, and I was in total angst a couple of times… [and] I am SO utterly, undeniably, completely, and overwhelmingly in love with Trip.
~Kathy, Romantic Reading Escapes

REMEMBER WHEN 2: The Sequel

“You know how sometimes, your high school crush grows up to be an insanely famous movie star? Okay, probably not. But I do.”
~Layla Warren

Back in high school, Trip Wiley’s fanbase only encompassed the denizens of the nothing little suburb of Norman, New Jersey.
Ten years later, all that is about to change.

In the summer of 2000, Layla Warren is enjoying her career as a journalist in New York City (well, sort of), while Trip spends most of his time grabbing Hollywood by the balls. In the days before what will turn out to be his skyrocketing fame, they’ll find themselves confronted with some life-altering choices.

Remember When 2 is the second story in an NA romance trilogy. It will bring you back to that exuberant and riotous time of life in your twenties when you struggled to figure out your place in the world and the person you were meant to be…
…and the person you were meant to be with.

REMEMBER WHEN 3: The Finale

“I’d spent too long in limbo.
It was time to put The California Plan back into effect.”
~Layla Warren

I’ve been in love with Trip Wiley since I was sixteen years old.

Yep. That Trip Wiley.

Academy award-winning actor, known philanthropist, People’s Sexiest Man Alive two years running…

Yeah.

It’s not like I’m some delusional stalker-fan. It just so happens that he was my high school sweetheart back in 1991. In the years since, he’s simply been The One That Got Away.
We just can’t seem to get on the same page at the same time.

Our timing may have sucked, but the feelings had already been confirmed. Years ago.
At least his were.

He doesn’t know that I had chosen to love him back.

I need to fix that.
And I need to do it now.

Remember When 3 is the third and final book in the Remember Trilogy. It’s a story about taking chances and following your heart…and knowing that sometimes, you just have to learn when to let go.

Remember When: Amazon | Barnes and Noble

Remember When 2: The Sequel: Amazon | Barnes and Noble

Remember When 3: The Finale: Amazon | Barnes and Noble

Excerpt from Book 1:

REMEMBER WHEN 1

Upon entering Lisa’s room, I was immediately informed of the fact that her mother had let her decorate it almost entirely by herself. It was actually painted pink and there were white, eyelet curtains at the windows and a rainbow comforter on her wicker bed. My only attempt at decorating at that time involved a Scooby Doo blanket that I had won on the boardwalk. The pictures on her walls were of David Cassidy and Scott Baio and Donny Osmond, a bit of a departure from the Burger-King-issued, 1978 Yankees and Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band posters that hung on mine.
In spite of our differences, or maybe because of them, Lisa and I have been best friends ever since. It seems that it was within ten minutes of our first meeting that she taught me how to feather my hair, make braided ribbon barrettes and draw a proper unicorn, necessary survival traits for any girl in the late seventies.
Over the years, she has dragged me to the mall repeatedly, making me buy Jordache jeans, parachute pants, Guess denims and ultimately, to my enduring mortification, ZCavaricci’s. She ran me through the gauntlet of makeup and clothes enough to help me get my act together in time for high school.
Prior to that, I was sort of clueless. I used to play football with the guys at recess and spent more time climbing trees than playing dollies. That tomboy stuff was fine during elementary school, but by sixth grade, my body had begun to sprout boobs and that’s when all the boys started looking at me a little funny.

It was the summer between seventh and eighth grade when Lisa went into full-on Frankenstein mode with me. She armed me with a bottle of Love’s Baby Soft and a tube of Zinc Pink lipstick and gave me a complete beauty lesson, showing me how to put on makeup to suit my “season”, and went clothes shopping with me to find outfits that would best show off my new boobs without making me look trashy. When all was said and done, I was surprised to find the girl looking back at me through the mirror. Until that moment, I had no idea that I ever wanted to be… pretty. But there I was, all made up, hair done and dressed like a real, live girl, and I realized that Lisa’s description actually held some truth.
The makeover did wonders for my self-esteem. Not that anyone would have mistaken me for the most popular girl in school (that distinction belonged exclusively to Lisa), but I was confident that I was going to be able to carve out a nice little social status on my own, even without the fact that I had hitched my wagon to her star.
I couldn’t wait to run into my crush and his friends at the lake or the park or something, envisioning myself making a smash as big as Sandy’s at the end of Grease. I would walk onto the playground or someplace where all our friends would be hanging out and I’d snub a cigarette out with my high-heeled shoe. Every guy’s jaw would drop and then we’d all break into “We Go Together”.
That fantasy was squelched, however, when my father refused to let me buy a pair of black spandex pants that I’d found at the nearby Clothing Town. Plus, there was a slight problem with the perm that I had gotten, because it made me look more like Little Orphan Annie than Olivia Newton-John.
Lisa spent her allowance that week to buy me a home permanent kit, explaining that if we just brushed it straight through my hair and let it set for a few minutes, the afro on my head should relax.
She turned out to be right, because the treatment ended up giving me a decent head of soft waves. Thank God, because otherwise, I would have spent the summer looking like Weird Al Yankovic.

My ears perked up when I heard Mrs. Mason speaking over the din of a not-yet-settled classroom. “Thank you. You can take the desk over there behind Miss Warren, by the windows.” Teachers always tried to convey some illusion of respect by calling us by our last names.
My parents had saddled me with the unfortunate first name of Layla. My father has always explained that my mother was in the middle of a pretty heady rock-and-roll phase in the years surrounding my birth, which explains, but doesn’t excuse, the fact that my brother’s name is Bruce Springsteen Warren. I shit you not.
In any case, I hadn’t been paying much attention to Mrs. Mason until I heard her say my name. I looked up and saw some new kid hand her a slip of paper then turn toward the direction of her pointed finger. The sight that greeted me was enough to stop my heart.
If I were living in a movie, the opening strains of “Crazy Train” would have piped in, creating a background for this gorgeous boy who was walking slow-motion toward me. Our eyes met for a second before I realized I’d been staring and suddenly looked away.

I’d been ripping little pieces off my pretzel and trying to pop them unnoticed into my mouth. I was mid-chew when Rymer reached across the table to grab my stack of napkins. Cleaning sauce off his Oxford, he suddenly decided to switch subjects. “Oh, hey Warren! You meet Trip yet?”
I was caught off guard enough to almost choke, but luckily, I caught myself. I still had a mouthful of food, so I shielded my lips with my hand and answered as best I could. “Uh huh. We’re in Mason’s together.” Then, I swallowed and was able to nod in Trip’s direction to add casually, “How’s it going?”
The guys were still laughing at the big, red stain that Rymer was unsuccessfully trying to wipe off his shirt, so Lisa and I were the only ones to absorb the full force of Trip’s lazy grin when he replied, “It’s good, Layla. How’s it going for you?”
I almost died at the way he said that, looking right at me with half-lidded eyes and those perfect, full lips smiling out my name. I felt Lisa kick me under the table, so I knew she caught it too. Oh my God. Was he flirting with me? As intrigued as I was, my survival instincts quickly won out. The guys would never stop busting my chops if they caught me flirting with the new guy. I smiled politely and offered evasively, “It’s good.”
Just making courteous small talk, right?

By the time school let out, I had already decided that I was good to go. This was confirmed when Trip actually showed up to meet me on the front steps. In front of everyone, he plucked me out of the crowd and put his hand at the small of my back for the walk down to his car.
Let me tell you, it felt amazing to be seen with him. I hoped everyone noticed it. Maybe rumors would get started that we were carrying on some sort of secret relationship. People would say things like, “I heard that Trip Wilmington dumped Tess Valletti for Layla Warren.”
And if anyone actually had the balls to ever ask me outright, I’d only give them the satisfaction of a mysterious smile while saying something classy like, “I never kiss and tell, dahling.”
While I was picturing who was going to play me in the movie version of my life story (Alyssa Milano, maybe?), Trip unlocked the passenger door of his Bronco and held it open until I got inside. I thought it was so cool how he did that. Maybe it was a common thing to do where he came from, but in Norman, the guys were always too aloof to treat any of us like actual ladies. God, didn’t they realize how easy it was to impress us?
Trip cruised over to his side of the truck and slid himself behind the wheel. As he put the key in the ignition, I made the decision that whatever song was playing on the radio at that moment would be burned forever into my brain as “our song”.
He turned the key… and New Kids on the Block came blaring out of the speakers singing “The Right Stuff”.
Okay, fine. The next song would be the one.

He smiled as I got out of the truck, and because I knew he was watching me, I made extra sure not to slip and wind up face-down on the sidewalk.
I was feeling a little elated from the time I’d just spent alone with him, while simultaneously feeling let down at the thought of it coming to an end. I knew I was stalling, hoping to drag a few more seconds out of our time together, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Hey, thanks for the ride.”
He leaned over toward the passenger side to talk to me out the open window. “No problem.”
I tapped my toe against the tire as I asked, “See you tomorrow?”
He winked and repeated, “See you tomorrow.”
Short of throwing myself across the hood of his truck, there was really nothing else to do at that point but say goodbye. I had just turned and was starting to walk inside when I heard him yell, “Hey Layla!” which made my stomach do a little flip.
I looked back at Trip, still leaning out the passenger window with a wide grin playing at his lips and answered, “Yes?”
His grin turned into the full-force smile, the one that stopped me dead in my tracks at lunch.
“Good luck.”
At that, he threw the truck in gear and took off.

 About the Author

T. Torrest is a New Adult fiction writer from the U.S. She has written many books, but prays that only a handful of them will ever see the light of day. Her stories are geared toward readers of any age that know how to enjoy a good laugh and a dreamy romance.

She likes pina coladas and getting caught in the rain. She’s not much into health food, but she does enjoy talking about herself in the third person. A lifelong Jersey girl, she currently resides there with her husband and two boys.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads

During the blitz the ebook trilogy will be on sale for $4.99, after that it will go back up to $9.99

Amazon Trilogy: Amazon US
Remember When 3 Print: Createspace

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