November 13, 2014

One Kiss With A Rock Star by Amber Lin & Shari Slade ~ REVIEW EVENT




Title: One Kiss with a Rock Star (Half-Life #2)

Authors: Amber Lin, Shari Slade

Date of Publication: November 6th 2014




Half-Life bassist Krist Mellas is caught in a PR nightmare after his dirty sex video blew up online. His agent has the solution: a fake engagement with sultry pop princess Madeline Fox. Krist can’t think of anything worse than a charade with the bubblegum bombshell…except losing the band.

Madeline knows better than anyone what it means to live a lie in the spotlight. She’s determined to help Krist without ever letting him find out what it costs her—or about her girlhood crush on him. But after a smoking hot back alley encounter with him leaves her breathless, she can’t deny she wants the snarling bad-boy rocker.

In a world of glitter and diamonds where the kisses are fake but the climaxes are real, their facades start to crack. And the publicity storm may shatter them both.

WARNING: This book contains a scorching threesome, a dirty talking pop princess, and a surly rocker who hits all the right notes.


Buy the Book!



Review By Erin 


First off, I love rock star romances. I did not get a chance to read Book 1 before I read this one. Since this is a stand-alone, it did not affect the quality of the book. 
Now can I just say WOW! I have not read a rock star book that delved into the industry as well as this one did. All the manipulation by the record labels and agents is astonishing. What looks good for her image, what makes him look better? What started off as "good pr" for both artists, ends with a great love. It is a rocky road, and along the way they discover things about themselves as well as each other. 

                                            5 Stars


Book One in the Half-Life Series

Three Nights with a Rock Star (Half-Life #1)

When Hailey crashes a Half-Life after party, she expects to find the bastard who knocked up her little sister. Instead she meets the sexy front-man who agrees to give her access to his crew if she gives him access to her body.

All Lock demands in return is three days of complete control over the Sunday School teacher. With a contract, because he’s been burned before. One misstep could send the band—and his tenuous sobriety—up in flames.

Hailey and Lock push each other’s limits… Against the penthouse window. Backstage. In the limo and on the elevator. But as the contract counts down, neither are ready for the party to end.


What people are saying about Three Nights with a Rock Star

“This book will ROCK YOUR SOCKS RIGHT OFF!” – Red’s Hot Reads

“Three Nights with a Rock Star has the love story, the push you up against a door sex, and the holy hell I can’t believe they’re doing that ménage sex, but it also has the sweetness of family and the heartbreak of possible betrayals, broken friendships, and leaked sex tapes. I cannot wait to read Krist’s story, One Kiss with a Rock Star!” – Hines and Bingam’s Literary Tryst

“The chemistry between Lock and Hailey is blistering. Sparks flew the first time they saw each other. It was nice to see that both main characters had issues to work through to be able to maintain a relationship between them.” – Cocktails and Books

“Three Nights With A Rock Star was right up my ally, I loved every minute of it! From the sexy lead singer Lock, to the cute mousy Hailey. I’m more than looking forward to the next book One Kiss with a Rock Star.” – Books Unhinged




About the Authors

Amber Lin writes erotic romance with damaged souls and deep emotion.

Her debut novel, Giving It Up, received The Romance Review’s Top Pick, Night Owl Top Pick, and 5 Blue Ribbons from Romance Junkies. RT Book Reviews gave it 4.5 stars, calling it “truly extraordinary.” She has been published by Loose Id, Carina Press, and Entangled.

Amber married her high school sweetheart, birthed a kid who’s smarter than she is, and spends her nights writing down her dirty thoughts. In other words, life is good.



  Shari Slade is a snarky optimist. A would-be academic with big dreams and very little means. When she isn’t toiling away in the non-profit sector, she’s writing gritty stories about identity and people who make terrible choices in the name of love (or lust). Somehow, it all works out in the end. If she had a patronus it would be a platypus.






Excerpt

There was a moment, after the makeup artist and hair stylist had gone, before the choreographer and director had arrived, that Madeline was alone. The silence disoriented her, making her pulse heavy.
It was like stepping off a carousel, unsteady on her feet and squinting into the sun. Though in her case, she was unsteady on four-inch heels and blinking at fashion lights lining the wall. Her short puffs of breath expanded to fill the empty dressing room. Every piece of clothing that had been specially crafted and fitted to her body suddenly tugged and scratched and pinched.
The door slammed open—no knock—and her choreographer stood there. Just like that, the off-kilter moment was over, banished to the Island of Misfit Memories. She was Madeline Fox again, back in her groove. Adequate singer. Dazzling performer. She was a goddamn pop princess—and princesses never had to be alone.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Jimmy said in his customary affected voice. “You look fabulous.”
Doing a little circle to show off her costume, she preened. Literally preened since she had feathers glued onto her arms. “Are you sure I don’t look a little…avian?”
“Please. No one will be looking at your arms in that glitter bra. Every boy in the audience will have a hard-on the size of Texas.”
Madeline rolled her eyes. Jimmy had been saying that to her since she was fifteen. He got away with it because he pretended to be gay. A requirement for being successful in this business, or so he’d told her in a rare moment of seriousness.
“Come on, sweetie. Your devil awaits you.”
She clapped her hands together, barely holding in her squee. She hadn’t been sure Krist would come. Even though he owed her. Even though she’d sent their mutual agent to ensure that extra push. “Ward came through for me?”
Right on cue, Ward entered stage right. Alex Ward had a man’s name and the personality of a shark. In short, she was the perfect agent. “I always come through for you. You’re the best, and you deserve the best.”
“Aww, I bet you say that to all the multiplatinum artists.”
Ward didn’t deny it. But then, she might not have heard. She was currently speaking into her Bluetooth while tapping the tablet propped over her arm.
The important thing was Madeline would get to see Krist today. She’d get to kiss him. And now she was nervous.
She was never nervous.
The spicy scent of warm chai hit her like an orgasm. “Fuuuuck. Someone is about to be my best friend.”
A latte cup was lifted from behind Jimmy’s head. Her assistant. God bless assistants, really. Especially this one, who’d brought her chai. Piper? Penelope? Was it a boy or a girl? Not that it mattered. Madeline swung both ways.
But before she could grab hold of the cup, her voice coach was there with her endless litany of rules and regulations. No smoking. No drinking. No deep throating. Blah blah blah. And definitely no chai before a performance.
“Hey,” Madeline said, pouting. “I’m not even going to be singing.”
Her agent glanced over. “Oh, we changed that. We want some vocals off the main track for a director’s cut. That one’s going on YouTube.”
Jimmy winked. “A little improv goes a long way.”
All righty, so she would sing. In front of Krist Mellas, bass player and vocalist for Half-Life. Her stomach turned over as she grabbed the chai and took a drink. It wasn’t spiked, so the assistant whoever-the-fuck was clearly still in training mode. Big girls got a shot with their latte, and Madeline had been a big girl since she turned fourteen on the set of KidMania five years ago.
The sea of people pushed her along.
No one specifically told her to move. No one asked. They just moved, and she had no choice but to move with them. She didn’t want a choice. This was easy. This was mindless. Swivel your hips and sing until it hurts.
This was her life.

From ONE KISS WITH A ROCK STAR by Amber Lin and Shari Slade


Excerpt 

Watch the wings.
He couldn't miss them. She was naked but for feathers and glitter. Untouchable. Two grips ushered her along the catwalk and affixed her harness to a rig in the rafters. Krist was only a few feet off the ground on his platform, but he still felt unsteady. She was so high.
An assistant counted down, and the director shouted, “Action!”
The army of dancers below writhed to the thumping bass line of the guide track, feet pounding the floor, but Krist only had eyes for Madeline. She lifted her arms above her head like the ballerina in a little girl’s jewelry box, stepped off the ledge, and twirled down, singing.
“I break my own wings.”
The power in her vocals, the edge behind the lyric, knocked him more off balance. He'd expected her to lip sync. He'd expected her to fucking suck.
“I am falling. I am falling. Lift me up.”
All the dancers below lifted their hands in unison and swayed like the collective force of their will would boost her higher. Cheesy pop bullshit, but something about it worked. He didn’t want to admit it, but she had…something. She could fucking sing.
Her descent slowed. If he stretched, he could just reach her perfectly manicured toe. Almost time.
His whole body tensed as a camera swung in his direction. He grimaced and gripped the railing when the platform beneath him, mounted on what looked like a cherry-picker truck, shifted closer to Madeline. The cameraman gave him a thumbs-up. He must look sufficiently demonic.
Now. He reached for her, grabbing her by the waist, the only part of her body unadorned, and pulled her close. One breath and he was overcome by her scent. Spicy cotton candy. Unexpected and strangely perfect. A second breath and he prepared to do his damned job, to mash his lips against hers and fling her back to her adoring throng. It was only skin. It didn’t mean anything.
Her eyes flashed mischief. Hi, she mouthed and hooked her legs around his hips.
He froze. The producer hadn’t mentioned grinding in the rundown earlier. She shimmied against him, and his traitorous cock responded. Do the job you came to do.
Before he could, she bent her head and stole the kiss he’d been hired to deliver. He couldn't help but gasp, and then her tongue, warm and electric, invaded his mouth. Chai. 
Could an angel corrupt a devil?
“I am falling. I am falling.” The guide track looped in the background, distorted by Auto-Tune, hardly recognizable as the sultry voice he'd just heard.
It was too much. The wet heat, her teeth grazing his bottom lip, and the way she rocked against his crotch. It hurt to touch her, just like the devil was supposed to react. He pushed, but she only held on tighter, digging her heels into his ass, twisting his hair in her fingers. Sparks of pleasure-pain skittered under his skin. She’d chosen him.
He didn’t want to want her. Wanting was a one-way ticket to disappointment.
She raked her fingers down his back, teasing the sliver of skin between his shirt and belt, and pressed her mouth to his ear. He shivered.
“Work with me.” She nipped him.
He could work. And if his body responded? Well, it was only biology. The hard-on straining against his zipper was as manufactured and packaged as the Dream Angel in his arms.
He lost himself in the pull and sway, forgot the crowd of people, the camera, the job. Forgot everything but the taste of her, the feel of her tight muscles under his palms, the tickle of feathers floating free. 
He kissed her back, violent and hard, reclaiming what she'd taken: his choice. Her body softened, melted around him. She moaned, giving in, an unexpected surrender. He hadn’t missed the power she wielded over the whole production, a queen bee to her hive. But here she was gasping and shuddering in his arms, the rapid pulse against his chest like wings beating against glass. He ran his tongue along hers, savoring the honey and spice.
A sound came from the sides, an urgent whisper. They wanted him to stop. He even felt her lurch away, tugged by mechanical means, but he held tighter. They’d have to tear her away. They’d have to hurt her to do it. For one brief moment, he wasn’t letting go. Skin to skin, mouth to mouth. Heat to heat, and they’d both flown too close to the sun.
The music stopped.

From ONE KISS WITH A ROCK STAR by Amber Lin and Shari Slade













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