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
No comments:
Post a Comment