Book Title: Fall With Me (A Sixth Street Bands Novella)
Author: Jayne Frost
Genre: Romance
Release Date: December 15, 2016
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
As the bassist for the band Caged, the last three years have been one, long non-stop party. Sure, I’ve had some regrets. Everyone does. But getting trapped in a relationship isn’t one of them. I know good and well what happens when the attraction fades. I’ve seen it first hand. Love is a zero sum game, so why play? As long as I'm upfront about my feelings, no one gets hurt. Besides, I'm never in one place long enough to worry about tomorrow.
That is, until the band decided to take an extended hiatus in our hometown. That’s when I met Melody Sullivan. She’s the full-package. Whip smart and beautiful, with enough determination to take on anything life has in store. And the best part? Melody shares my philosophy on the fleeting nature of attraction. She doesn’t buy into the whole “happily ever after” crap anymore than I do. We’re perfect for each other. For now. And now is all I want.
With the expectations off the table, I can let my guard down and enjoy her company until the spark dies. And we both know it will. In a week, or a month. But until then, we’ll just keep having fun. The good kind, with lots of sex and no strings attached. And when it’s time to move on, we will. No drawn out goodbyes and no remorse.
That’s the plan, at least.
Pinning Mel to the cinder block wall in her tiny living room, I kissed her deeply, my fingers creeping under the hem of her blouse. She sighed, the back of her head bumping against the concrete as I palmed her breast,
“Fuck…sorry.” My hand disappeared into her blond locks, searching for a lump. “Are you all right?”
The girl had me so revved up I was ready to take her right here, inches from her front door.
Resting her palm against my chest, she laughed softly. “No permanent damage. I’ve got a hard head.”
Mel was hardheaded, all right. And smart. Not to mention sexy as hell.
Slipping out of my arms, she headed for the kitchen before I could devour her mouth again. I bit my lip when she ducked her head into the fridge, wiggling her ass as she poked around.
“Would you like something to drink? I’ve got water and…” She walked back with two bottles of Dasani. “Water.”
“Water’s fine.”
Twisting the cap off the bottle, I looked around the tiny apartment. Mel’s place was as bare bones as it got. Campus housing with concrete walls and worn carpet. Her entire kitchen would fit in the guest bathroom at my house.
Sinking onto the arm of the recliner, Mel snagged her lip between her teeth. “I’ve never had a one-nighter,” she admitted, like it was a bad thing. “So you’re going to have to tell me how this goes.”
Shifting my gaze to the large calendar on the wall in her dining room, I glanced over the neat stack of books on the table below. The girl was organized—OCD style—which was refreshing. But the fact that she was already planning for my imminent departure unnerved me.
Closing the gap between us, I twirled a lock of her hair around my finger.
“It goes the way it goes, angel. The only thing set in stone is your breakfast. Eggs, right?”
She looked up, the sparkle in her eyes faint at best. “I’m not expecting you to be here in the morning, Christian. We both know what this is. I’ve heard all the rumors. I’m not naïve, you know?”
I pulled away out of sheer reflex. All night long we were just Christian and Mel. My celebrity was barely mentioned. Hell, she didn’t even pump me for information about the band.
After a moment, I eased onto the chair.
“Really?” I slid her onto my lap. “What have you heard about me? I’m dying to know.”
Staring at the bottle in her hand, her fingernail skated over the label. “The usual. Oversexed rocker. Never in one place more than a night.”
Tucking a finger under her chin, I tilted her face until our gazes met.
“I’ve been in Austin for months, so you shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”
Her expression indicated she saw through my halfhearted attempt to address the rumors. I may have been in the same city, but that didn’t mean I was in the same bed. A Google search would turn up dozens of pictures to prove the point.
Mel slipped her arms around my neck. “I’m just letting you know that I get it. Guys like you don’t date—they fuck.” She fought to keep her smile. “And breakfast isn’t usually part of the deal.”
I tightened my grip on her waist, my thumb skimming the smooth skin above the waistband of her jeans. Conversations like this weren’t usually unnecessary. The chicks I hung out with knew the score. Hell, they were fine with it. No truths exchanged beyond the basics: hotel or tour bus, and where should the cab drop you off when we’re finished.
But Mel wasn’t like that. She spent her time in libraries, not waiting behind rope lines hoping to get my attention.
Taking her hand, I blew out a breath. “I’ve been on the road for four years. It’s a little hard to plan breakfast when you don’t know what city you’ll be come morning. But I can’t blame it all on my lifestyle. From a strictly biological standpoint, you know, attraction fades as soon as the hormone rush is over. Pheromones and all that.” Chancing a peek at her face, I found her nodding in agreement, her green eyes glued to mine. I smiled, tracing a finger over the curve of her jaw. “I’m not saying I’m opposed to a repeat performance. I just don’t believe in making promises I can’t keep.”
Realization slammed me in the chest as she mulled over my declaration. Despite the passionate kiss at the door, Mel wasn’t a sure thing. She could ask me to leave. Hell, she might.
I held my breath as she shoved to her feet.
Propping a hand on her hip, she studied me for a long moment. “But you will be making me breakfast…is that what I’m hearing?”
Not quite a question, but a statement of fact. And one I’d gladly agree to if it meant a night in her bed.
“You can bet on it, angel.”
I stood with the intention of capturing her mouth.
Instead, Mel entwined our fingers and said, “Cool. I think I’ll take you to bed now.”
I guess I should start with the basics: the backstory. I was born and raised in California. At this point, I’m usually asked what it was like to grow up near the beach, but sadly, I don’t know. I grew up in the “other” part of California. Perfect for an aspiring writer, if you ask me. You learn a lot about keeping yourself busy when the nearest house is a mile away…and it belongs to your grandparents.
I spent all my time with my nose in a book, living vicariously through the characters, until I wrote a book of my own. I was ten at the time. It was a scintillating piece that cast the family pet as the protagonist.
By the time I went to high school, I moved on to romance. Why? Because I met my very own prince charming. I wrote love poems in my journal about the green-eyed boy who stole my heart. He promised, the way all storybook heroes do, to sweep me away and take me on a grand adventure. And he did.
We picked up and moved to the Lone Star State and began the story of us. The best stories begin without a road map or a compass. Veering off course makes the journey so much more interesting.
True to form, just when I thought my life was set, we started the next adventure. I traded in my cowboy boots and followed my green-eyed boy to Las Vegas. My home will always be in Texas, but my heart is anywhere that he is. Our beautiful daughter made the journey with us. Our son stayed in Texas, to write his own story.
Somehow, in the midst of the chaos that is our life, I find time to write. Writing is what I love. I might stray from romance every now and then if that is what moves me…but I always come back. Some of the stories don’t seem romantic at all. They are gritty stories about flawed characters that find each other and hold on tight. Those are the stories that speak to me. Because that’s life. I believe that every story should have a happy ending—even the difficult ones.
Book Title: Highland Hope (The Wild Thistle Trilogy)
Author: Madelyn Hill
Genre: Historical Romance
Release Date: August 31, 2016
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
“Remember, lasses. Through Hope, Faith, and Honor, ye can rule,” were the last words Lady Hope MacAlister’s father spoke before dying. Those very words direct her every action and thought. Sword fighting and leading the men of her clan was second nature to Hope and she has little time for herself or any thoughts of love. Until Aidan MacKerry is captured spying on the clan.
She is beautiful, strong, and quick to pull a sword. But when he kisses her, all thoughts of the lairdship Aidan MacKerry seeks flee his mind. When the enemy continues to undermine Hope, Aidan is determined to aid her—only he didn’t think he’d lose his heart to the Laird of Wild Thistle Keep. When the enemy reveals Aidan’s secret, he must fight for his right to be laird and prove, despite their differences, he loves Hope.
The enemy refuses to back down and continues to threaten not only Hope, but the security of the entire clan. Only together will they be able to save the clan and save their love.
“You have need of me?” He wasn’t willing to stop watching her, but he wanted to break his fast to ease the rumblings of his stomach.
“Lady Catriona passed away just a few days ago.” As she straightened her spine and met his gaze. There was tension around her eyes, pain. Och, she was grieving. Nay, he’d not soften because the woman lost her mother. “My mother had been my main supporter in leading the clan and I’ve need of help since she is gone.”
Her voice mingled with the dripping water and the sound of his own breath. Aye, there was pain beneath her commanding tone. She took a step back, as if she were trying to remain in control of the situation. He waited for her to continue, interested in her ideas, although the visitor of the night before had given him warning.
Her shoulders straightened. “My father decreed I was to marry at a certain age or not rule. It appears I’m in need of a husband, and he will be you.”
All air left him and his head was awash in ire. He’d been warned, but hearing the words, arrogant and without emotion, forced him into memories Aidan longed to hold at bay.
Woman seeking power, like his mother and his betrothed. Ordering men about as if they were commanders, demanding their will be done.
If she were a man ordering him about, he’d surely have attacked her through the bars.
“You’ll have no control, to be sure,” she continued as she stepped forward and gave a flippant swat of her hand. “I’ve led the clan well and will keep doing so. You’ll be there to soothe the council.”
Soothe the council? Surely, she understood they meant to undermine her? Did everyone think he was a fool? Had no cods?
“No control?” He growled. Fury filled him. “A willing servant? Is that what you want?” he demanded roughly.
Anger knitted her brow as her hands fisted at her waist. “You don’t have much of a choice, do you? Either you rot here in the dungeon, or you agree to my plan.”
Aidan wrapped his fingers around the iron bars, in his mind, they were wrapping around Laird MacAlister’s neck. Maybe it was his normally easygoing nature which led others to believe him weak and caused them to strike against his very manhood. But this woman had gone too far. “I’ve done nothing wrong. You’ve no right to imprison me.”
“Aye,” she conceded with the tip of her head. “But I could take my time releasing you.”
He chuckled humorlessly. Aidan then reached through the bars with his other hand and lifted her chin with the tips of his fingers. “And what of the marriage bed?” he rasped.
She held his gaze as her jaw tightened and flashes of anger flared in her green eyes.
“Am I allowed to share your bed?”
She tore from his hold, then scoffed.
She pointedly ignored the way he wrangled the iron bar as if he could tear them from their moorings. “Nay, we’ll not be husband and wife in the traditional sense. My father may have decreed I wed, but I’ll not sell myself in the process.”
He grunted. “You are daft.” He’d lowered his voice, trying to keep his rage from ebbing out of control. Not husband and wife in the traditional sense. Did she realize there’d have to be heirs? More of the MacAlister line to sit in the laird’s chair? Her plan was poorly created and in the end she’d be hard pressed to keep an even keel along such a plan as they wed and began to rule together. Regardless of what she’s said, he’d not sit by and do nothing as she ruled.
“Laird MacAlister?” a voice called out, one Aidan recognized, one he knew would be coming.
“Aye,” she said with a hint of annoyance as she turned toward the voice.
“’Tis no place for ye, Laird. Let me speak with the prisoner and bring him his food.”
Aidan watched as her spine snapped straight and she visibly bristled at the suggestion. She cocked her head at the voice. “I’ve the right, for now. I’ll keep interrogating the prisoner until I’m satisfied with his answers.”
“As ye wish, m’lady.”
Blast it, the voice had stayed afar and Aidan had never seen his face. Of course he knew it was intentional, a reminder and warning in itself. But he was vexed, nonetheless. Laird MacAlister turn to him, and he nearly laughed at the outrage on her face. It must surely mimic his own. He admired her spirit. And her bravado. She’d asked a stranger to marry. He knew, it had cost her. Mayhap this was the answer . . . her cost would become his fortune.
Mayhap he would agree—for now. Then he’d tip the circumstances to his advantage. Aye. He’d gain her trust, all the while moving his goal forward. For he’d be Laird of Wild Thistle.
As I pledged.
With an arrogant tilt of her chin and a challenge set in her gaze, she said, “What say you, MacKerry? Have we an agreement?”
“Why me?”
Her eyes widened, then she shrugged.
There had to be a reason. The clan was filled with men. The laird hadn’t decided to wed until the moment she saw him? Not very likely, she seemed too intelligent for that.
She remained silent for a moment. “The men of the clan see me as laird. Not as a woman.”
He smirked. A beautiful woman like her, not bloody likely. They saw the woman she was along with the laird she was. The combination mayhap too much for most men—a strong, independent woman. “They are afraid of you.”
A flash of irritation lit her green eyes. “Mayhap. Or they do not like me besting them in the practice yard.”
He tipped his head back and laughed. “Aye,” he said as he took note of her complete surprise. “I’ll marry you.” Aidan would keep her thinking he was compliant.
And then, we’ll see how long it is before I’m in charge and in the marriage bed.
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Madelyn Hill has always loved the written word. From the time she could read and all through her school years, she'd sneak books into her textbooks during school. And she devoured books daily. At the age of 10 she proclaimed she wanted to be a writer. After being a "closet" writer for several years, she sent her manuscripts out and is now published with Soul Mate Publishing. And she couldn't be happier!
A resident of Western New York, she moved from one Rochester to another Rochester to be with the love of her life. They now have 3 children and keep busy cooking, watching their children's sporting events, and of course reading!
