Half-Life Series - Book 2 | Add to Goodreads
| Buy at Amazon |
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.
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.
He pulled back, breaking the kiss, but not the connection burning
between them. “Why me?”
She blinked, hazy with lust. “Because you're the demon.”
That's my motivation. “No, why did you want me for this set. I know you did.”
He needed her to say it out loud. Because you owe me. Then he could be done. Then this could be filed
away as one more task completed, one more favor repaid. Then he could ignore
the sweet ache he felt at the thought of letting her go.
What sets this novel apart from other rock star romance novels hitting the shelves is character development and plot. Lin and Slade build dynamic characters who have believable and well thought out back stories which draw you into the story similar to how Olivia Cunning brought us the Sinners on Tour series. Krist is more than your average rocker, battling with a situation that puts his bad boy rocker image at risk. However, it's not your typical scandal and I admire the authors for picking one that puts expectations of masculinity in a space of frank assessment. Maddy is not just a bubblegum pop princess and hides a realistic back story that tugs at your heart strings. Their characters alone are enough for the four star rating. Yes, there is your romantic love scenes and the story does focus on their relationship tango but it's the addition of subtle deeper topics that makes "One Kiss with a Rock Star" a book to read and love. I definitely enjoy every page and will be keeping an eye on these authors future work!
NB: My copy was received from the author in exchange for an honest review. Thank you!
To stay up to date with upcoming releases, sign up for her newsletter.
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.
Sign up for her newsletter to stay up-to-date on all the latest releases, happenings, and events.
Website: http://halflifebooks.com/
Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1455284051383052/
No comments:
Post a Comment