Follow the lead singer of The Forgotten, Christopher Mason, and the lead singer of their opening all-girl rock act Mia Ryder of Hushed Mentality.
Chris isn't on board for an all-girl opening band, which he refers to as The Vagina Bunch. But the ghosts that haunt Chris find solace in one extremely talented singer with dark brown hair and a Kermit the Frog guitar. His plan to remove them from his tour turns into a fight to keep her in any possible way she'll allow.
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Here's an Excerpt from book 1
"Christopher," Jackson whispered and moved to touch him.
"Get the fuck away. Get out!" Christopher yelled.
I flinched from Christopher's outburst, and fear set in. What in the hell was I doing? The desire to flee coursed through my body, but the lure of Christopher dissipated my run instinct. Christopher slammed his head back against the door with a torn look on his face.
My heart ached for him.
"Get out! All of you!" he screamed, burying his head once more, his hands tightening on his legs.
Blood oozed from his hands. His knuckles swollen, turning a purplish-black, and cut open. Deep slashes covered the back of his hands, making them appear flayed and raw. My stomach churned at the appearance.
Jackson stumbled back and bumped into me. He quickly turned and grabbed my shoulders as I took my first step toward Chris.
"Mia, you need to get out of here," he urged.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nicholas snap his head around. Next thing I knew, Nicholas was next to Jackson, putting his hand on his shoulder.
"Let her go."
"But, you don't know what he –"
Nicholas gave him a look and simply said, "Let her go, Jackson."
He let me go and moved to the side.
Looking back over to Christopher, my heart began to echo in my ears as adrenaline coursed through my body. Swallowing my fear and apprehension, I grabbed onto the invisible string tying us together and stepped forward.
"I said go away!"
I jumped when he screamed.
"Christopher," I whispered, shakily.
He raised his head and looked at me, rage burning in his eyes. Terror began to cut at me. I was wrong. I couldn't do this. He was going to launch himself at me. I shrunk back. Noticing my reaction, his rage melted into something else. Guilt.
"Christopher?" I asked, kneeling down three feet before him, trying to keep my voice calm. His expression went blank and he simply stared at me. He was lost, and something deep inside of me longed to find him.
There was movement behind me. Without breaking eye contact, I put my hand out behind me.
"Don't!" I said.
The movement stopped.
Christopher's brow furrowed and he dropped his head back onto his foldedarms.
I inched my way closer, wanting to be able to reach him, but didn't say anything else. The fact that he could now reach me registered with the part of me fighting for self-preservation. My instinct screamed again for me to run, but I just couldn't. Whatever this was, this feeling inside my gut calling out to me, I couldn't ignore it. Bracing myself for the possibility of an attack, I stretched out my arm. Unclenching my fist, I placed my trembling hand on the top of his head. I watched as the tension melted from his shoulders. I released a breath, relieved he didn't pummel me.
Slowly, I stood up to move closer, but he misunderstood my movement. Fumbling to his knees in front of me, he wrapped his arms around my legs and placed his head against my stomach. Instinctively, I pulled my arms up, bending them at the elbows, my hands turned palms out.
Christopher's arm stretched out. Wrapping his fingers around my wrist, he placed my hand back on his head. I brought the other hand down to join. A loud gasp slipped from my lips when he locked his arms around me, lifting me up.
"Nicholas," Jackson hissed in the background.
"Stay still," Nicholas hissed back.
Christopher moved us across the room. Afraid Jackson was going to step in and play the hero, I shot him a look telling him to stay back. Nicholas was holding Jackson in place. Relief washed through me. I had no idea what would happen if they tried to pull me away from Christopher.
Christopher laid us down on the bed and buried his face in my side. I could feel him relaxing; visibly see his muscles contracting from the prolonged stress, trying to unwind themselves.
"What the hell?" Jackson whispered.
Stellar Evolution (a Falling Stars novella 1.5) - currently free on Amazon
*Not A Standalone*
In Falling Stars, you were introduced to The Forgotten and Hushed Mentality, their lives written for the world to read. In this follow up novella, find out what happens after the tours have ended. Who can persevere under the pressure of love in the public eye? Who will fall apart? And who will become almost unrecognizable? Some stars last for an eternity, some stars fade, and others evolve.
Amazon UK - http://amzn.to/2ekbJK3
HITS (Hidden in the Stars)
(a Falling Stars novel Book 2)
Jackson "Jack" Shaw is the lead rhythm guitarist for the chart topping rock band The Forgotten. He's also the step-brother of their lead singer, Christopher Mason. Jack's had his heart shredded by a girl he thought was The One. Drowning his heartache in alcohol, women, and drugs, Jack hides his heart in a sea of fellow stars.
That is, until he meets Miz Liz in a burlesque club hidden in East L.A. A woman who's perfected the art of teasing and ensnaring her audience with leather, lace, satin, and a voice like a siren's call. She turns on all the right body parts, but also rejuvenates one particular muscle in his chest that Jack was sure he could keep hidden.
Eliza Campbell is a single mother who will do whatever it takes to support her family. Even if that means giving up on the dreams she's had since she was a child. Stubbornly independent at times, Liza's carefully scheduled days and plans aren't ready for almost seven feet of dirty, rocking, tattoo covered Jackson Shaw. But then again, one night won't change everything.
Jackson's an addict, and just one taste puts him back in the precarious position of falling in love with a woman who's mastered the art of ensnaring and teasing.
Excerpt from Hits
Turning my head, I rest my cheek against her skin. I'm a sick fuck, 'cause the smell of sex, of us, coming from between her legs is oddly satisfying.
"You'll just have to make it up to me." I can hear the smile in her voice.
I release her knee and roll to my stomach. Leaving my cheek against her thigh, I bring one hand to the right cheek of her ass.
"How long have you worked at the club?"
My question catches her by surprise. The muscles beneath my cheek and hand tense.
"A few years."
I don't like how guarded she sounds.
"Are you from here?"
I brush my thumb over her skin, feeling the muscles relax a little.
"Where are you from?"
"You aren't comfortable with questions." It's not a question.
"Why are you in L.A.?" she asks, turning the tables.
"Promotion. Music stuff." It's not a total lie, but part of my contract with the show is keeping my identity as a judge a secret.
"So, you'll be heading back home soon." This isn't a question.
"Tell me about you, Liza." I trace invisible patterns on her skin.
"Not much to tell." I feel her shrug and then she sighs. "I came to L.A. thinking I would be famous. Turns out, a lot of people have the same idea." She laughs quietly.
"How did you find the club? To be honest, I wouldn't have given that fucking place a second glance from how it looks on the outside."
"Waitressed with a girl who told me about auditions. I went to check it out and the rest is history."
The room falls silent, but it's not an uncomfortable silence. It's too fucking comfortable.
"Do you often go back to hotels with people who come to watch the show?"
It's a shitty question and I know it, but being with her is too easy. Time with my snake charmer is up.
Her body stiffens.
"Why would you say that?"
"I didn't say anything. I asked a question."
"You know exactly what you're saying." Her body disappears and my head hits the bed. I immediately miss her presence.
"Don't get pissy. It's just a fucking question." Rolling onto my back, I rub my face. I want to jump up and drag her back to me.
"Fuck you, Jackson. You got what you wanted from me, don't be an asshole about it now."
The bed shifts and I angle my head, watching her walk toward the bedroom door. Without thinking about why I need her to leave, I roll from the bed and catch her around the waist. She squeals as I lift her into my arms.
"What the hell are you doing?" she asks, more confused than mad.
"I didn't say you could leave."
Kneeling on the bed, I lay us both down onto the mattress.
"I don't take orders from you. I'm not a whore or whatever you want to believe I am."
I pull the rumpled blanket over our naked bodies, tucking the white cotton around her.
"What are you doing?" she asks, her voice exasperated. "I was leaving, just like you wanted me to."
Mid-tuck, I freeze. She figured my shit out.
"I'm not stupid," she whispers.
"No." I settle in and wrap my arm around her, making sure she doesn't get up. "You're worse."
She exhales loudly and I know she's going to speak, curse me, and do what I need her to do, but I won't let her leave. I can’t.
I cup her cheek, bring her face to mine, and press my mouth to hers, ending the conversation before it starts. Something inside me shatters. My chest burns and I deepen the kiss.
This kiss is different—sensual, soft, explorative. It's goddamn meaningful. Holding her face, I bring my body flush to her side, but it's not close enough. I wrap one leg around hers, pulling her into me.
Breaking away from each other, I drop back to the pillow and hold her head to my collarbone. We breathe heavily into the silence.
And if I wasn't fucked before, I am now.
Stellar Collision (a Falling Stars novella: 2.5)
*Not a standalone*
Christopher Mason got more than he dared to believe he deserved; the perfect woman, a love deeper than the emotional scars he carries, and a family. But in true Chris fashion, the greedy asshole wants more. He won't settle for anything less than a legally binding, last name changing event. One that can't
take place soon enough.
What he isn't ready for is a discovery that will take him back to a dark place, one he refuses to repeat, but sometimes we find our largest revelations hiding in our darkest fears.
Mia and Hush are at the top of their game in the rock world. Deemed the current Queen of Rock, Mia is feeling the pressure as well as the love from the industry. She's also not happy with the lengths Chris has gone to for their wedding, but her love for the big asshole, and his unwavering devotion to her, is greater than her frustration.
Then a realization puts the two of them on opposite sides and Mia fears this is the one thing their love won't be able to overcome. For the first time, Mia's own fears and emotional turmoil might outweigh Christopher.
You're cordially invited as Christopher lays his final claim.
SNARE (a Falling Stars novel: Book 3)
Sidra Campbell lives by a hump-him-and-dump-him rule. No love, no messy emotional strings, means no chance of losing control – again. She came to L.A. to support her cousin Liza, but she's also running from the vicious cycle she left behind in Pennsylvania.
Unfortunately for her, two men aren't making life easy. One invokes the haunting nightmare of a past she's fought hard to be a survivor and not a victim. And another so tempting, so persuasive, she reinforces the wall around her heart and dons her mask to keep the behemoth out. To everyone else, she appears confident and happy, but they’re always the ones hiding the deepest pain.
Xavier Stone, former drummer to one of the greatest rock bands, Corrosive Velocity, has suffered loss after loss. Finding himself a full-time dad and in threat of losing once again, he's barely hanging on.
There's one woman who creates a spark of interest so strong he can't seem to keep his hands to himself. She hates him. At least, that's what the mask of insults and indifference she wears wants him to believe, but her kiss tells another story. Xavier has lost too much. She may not be happy about it and can run all she wants, but Xavier's done losing.
When two explosive personalities collide, one runs and the other snares.
Excerpt from Snare
Holy heat wave, it's so hot and I'm so tired. Why am I so hot?
Kicking, I try to get the covers off my body, but there's no cover.
Why the hell is it so hot?
My back is sweating and drops are forming between my breasts.
"Stop kicking," Xavier mumbles.
A heavy weight lands against my legs, preventing any chance of me falling back to sleep.
Finally, I understand the source of the heat. Xavier is wrapped around me, his chest to my back, chin on my head, and arm draped over my side.
My eyes snap open.
"Sleeper Creeper, keep your hands to yourself," I exclaim, pulling his hand off my boob.
"Shhh, sleeping," he says with a yawn.
My chest and neck flush with heat.
"Oh my God! Your body is like the fires of Mordor," I cry, trying to shove him off.
He doesn't move.
"Get off me before the skin melts off my body." I give another hard shove.
"Did you just Lord of the Rings me?" he asks, sounding fully awake, but still not moving.
"Yes, Lord Sauron, I did. Now, go forge the one ring with someone else," I complain, trying to get his arm off and slip away.
Instead, he tightens it around my body, palm flat on my stomach. Instinctively, I suck in my stomach, while also trying to twist away from him.
"You're crazy," he sighs and continues, "and it's definitely my kind of crazy."
I still at his words and furrow my brow.
His hand slips up my stomach, stopping just beneath my left breast. The length of his body presses closer to mine. I close my eyes, trying to decide if I want to stop him or beg him to keep going.
With a swipe of his thumb, he brushes my under boob. Every muscle in my body tenses as a burning throb starts between my legs. The fires of Mordor have moved well below my Middle Earth. I clench my thighs together, fighting against the desire.
In a swift move, he buries his face in my neck, the tickle of his beard and soft heat of his lips pushing for surrender. Xavier runs his nose over my skin.
"What do you smell like?" he asks in a whisper against my neck, his words branding my flesh.
Three knocks on the door stop me from answering and bring me out of my lust-filled haze.
I shove his hand off me as the door opens and his mother enters. Xavier lifts his head.
Blatantly looking us over, she grins wide and says, "I thought I heard you two awake."
"What do you need—?"
"You two look awfully comfy," she interrupts.
Groaning, I elbow Xavier.
"Is there a reason you barged in here?" Xavier asks, finally rolling off me.
"Oh," she says innocently, putting a hand to her chest, "you know what? I don't even remember."
She shakes her head.
"I'll let you two get back to…" she pauses, raking her eyes over us again, "get back to it."
With a self-satisfied grin, she slips out of the room and closes the door.
"Your mom is—"
"Easy, tiger, that's my mom," he cuts me off.
I sit up and stretch my arms over my head.
"Yeah, but…" I yawn, "she's insane."
"Thought you loved her," he teases, poking me in the rib with his finger.
"I'm not ticklish," I disclose, dropping my arms back to my sides. "And I do love her, but I don't know how you handle her on a daily basis."
I place my feet on the floor, my ass on the edge of the bed.
"I don't live with my mother," he says to my back.
"Sure you don't, momma's boy."
Xavier grabs me around my waist and I scream as he pulls me back to the bed. I fight to get away, my arms and legs flailing.
"What'd you call me?"
He pins me to the bed by my wrists with one leg over both of mine.
"Really?" I raise my brow and purse my lips. "Of all the things I call you, that's the one you're seeking revenge for?"
"My sisters are constantly picking and have most of my life. Now, you get the punishment on their behalf as well."
"That's not fair," I argue. "What are you doing?"
He snuggles his body against mine.
"Melting your skin off with my hotness."
"You're an idiot," I say between laughter and fighting to get free.
All laughter flees when his hand traces down my arm.
Licking his bottom lip, his eyes come to mine and hold them with such intensity, I begin to breathe harder.
His hand slides along the skin of my arm, the side of my left breast, and over my ribs before reversing back up my body. When his hand reaches my wrist, he slips it into mine. Entwining both sets of our fingers, he shifts over and between my legs.
Like the slut I am, I open them without hesitation.
He draws our clasped hands just above my head, his forearms taking most of his weight. Our eyes remain locked until he bends and presses his mouth to mine.
The soft touch of his mouth sends a thousand tingles across my skin. The tip of his tongue touches my lip, gaining immediate access, and plunges inside.
All softness gone, he immerses me in his kiss and pushes his hard body into mine. Every sense fills with Xavier—his scent, taste, the way his beard rubs against my face, the feel of his body, the soft growls rumbling up from his chest.
I tighten my hands in his and return the kiss, pressing my hips up. The silent invitation is given, but instead of taking it, he pulls his mouth from mine. He drops his head to my shoulder for just a moment before rolling off me.
"This shouldn't happen," he groans, covering his face with his hands. "It would be…"
With deep, calming breaths, I swallow the lump in my throat and will away the tears stinging the back of my eyes.
"A total fucking mistake," I finish for him.
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Sadie Grubor is a Haribo Gummy Candy Whore & a foul-mouthed writer of smexy times and characters who typically have immature and inappropriate humor. Yes, this is a reflection of her. She can only hope you respect her in the morning, but doesn't expect it.
At some point, she may offend you. Yes, she realizes this and owns it. Trying to change this outcome has proved futile in the past. It's best to just let her trashy mouth weed out the classy folk. Everyone is better off that way.